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on the interbutts i have been cosidering things for the fap, came across these, and - revelation!






Glass dildoes, nigel, GLASS!
I can think of no better woman for the job. It would be epic and AWESOME.

and they would be beautiful and classy.

This is all.

Its 7am i seemoingly cant sleep and every time I fap I just wake up moar.

Ask Me Anything.

I am waiting for Ross to get back from meeting a potential housemate.

The longer it goes on, the moar positive it seems the outcome is.Its a five roomed house with one occupant in it currently, so no need for 4 people to unanimously vote him in, so he has a very bored guy all up in a big house and a pick of the rest of the rooms.

hopeful, but iuntil he comes home and says "i got my date for movin in" i cant count mah chickens.

and the wait is making me a little nutzy.

http://www.newscientist.com/article/mg20427345.300-cocaine-and-pepper-spray--a-lethal-mix.html?DCMP=OTC-rss&nsref=online-news

1000th post!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kkvsi1OeUfc

you fuckers have warped me forever, i hate you and i love you, PeeDee.

has a lady shaped cake.



and have a happy birthday!

What's the difference between surviving life's crap or getting sucked into its quicksand? Traumatic things occur to us all at some stage and at varying degrees, some people seem to keep trying to overcome, to dig themselves out.  Others just seem unable, or even unwilling at times to take the hard slog out of the mud, suffocating themselves and others around them.

I reckon the diggers started out as lost and floundering as the ones who are stuck. Somewhere along the line, they found the tools to survive the tough stuff.  Sometimes, the hole gets a little deeper before you manage to crawl out, it gets darker and scarier. Just the digger looked up, changed tack, whilst the stuck panicked and threw the tools out of the hole, or downed them in confusion.

What are the tools to dig out and up to the sunlight?

Communication is one of the tools. if you dont let whats eating you up out, it'll just get more cancerous.  in other words, "shit your hate or die!"

The Ability to Adapt. Takes a few skinned knees to get this one right. Things dont always go the way you fantasise or dream about in life, reality is that usually that it's far from the target you were aiming for. If you keep telling yourself "This [Insert incident here]  should never have happened." you're never going to face up to the fact that IT DID.

Knowing Your Limits. knowing when to say "I fold!" or "Nah, just finish this one [insert intoxicant here]
and head home" or just plain "back the fuck up, NO"

Obtaining your toolbelt is hard work, its a little like self-conditioning. yes, you have to climb almost to the top a few times, lose your grip and fall flat on your arse.  Hit your head a few times. However, with practice and some self awareness you'll know where your footing is.

So, do you want to sink to the bottom? Or rise out of the hole?

Always know where your tools are. Your tools may be different to mine, just keep hold of them.

Or Kill Me

(im feeling a little sketchy today, i'm not sure as to the clarity or quality of above rant.)

 I GOT THE T-SHIRT FOR MY ORDINATION AS A PAYNITE NUN!


I ordered a longsleeve by accident, but its cold yo.

Shame i cannot wear it again for a while.

THANKS SYN!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY YA SPAG.

HAS WHISKEY



AND WENCHES



Pix.

This morning, i woke up with this on my bed.


the hat is an awesome drunk find.

i then looked though my phone and found these.


I was very drunk at this point


I mostly blame this man. Ben. Unfortunately beer bottle obscures EPIC beardage.


sharpie in handbag and booze... YAY!



one beer up and about to leave the house.

last night was insane, it seems that since I have decided I need to be a Good Panda, that the world around me is getting Uber Bad Panda.

I need more sleep and more fluids

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rv3v8qjLSyU

this is part 1 of 5, all easily findable after the 1st has finished, and is a documentary on Surrealism by Jonathan Meade...

Ok, there is a lot of documentaries available online, I was talking with Pance and Payne, after we all watched a docu on Surrealism by Jonathan Meade, and me and Payne had a very good discussion ref- art history and general concepts, and we struck on the idea that in a manner akin to the Book Club, we could choose documentaries, discuss, find further reading online, and discuss some more.

I think a frequency of about 2-4 weeks for a new documentary and a new thread should be placed in the appropriate board to the subject of the documentary. This all depends on

So I reckon start off with the same docu that me payne and pance watched... and any suggestions in the fread here like.

This is my first rant. It is also my entry into the Horrormirth Competition.


The Man Who Married 1.5 Women.


When I was 24 years of age, on the 1st of May 2004 at the Southampton Registry office, I married. I wore a bright pink dress and arrived in a classic Mini Cooper S from 1969. I got so drunk,  I broke my wedding ring and set fire to the table decorations.

This was an action so very, very full of Epic Fail. I married an American, studying in Southampton, After a trip with him back to Phoenix, I should have known better, considering his mood-swings and drinking, as well as choice of travelling companions for our spectacularly awful road trip to San Francisco. The road trip is a whole another story. The song that reminds me of the trip is Dashboard by Modest Mouse. Anyway, I should have known better. Or should have hooked up with the hawt guy with black hair and ice blue eyes trying to pull irish girls with his pot stash whilst Nate was passed out drunk in SF, negating the engagement entirely. 

Nathan is Bi-polar. Nathan also used to be an alcoholic. We broke up on the day of Dubya's re-election to a second term, the 2nd November 2004 . I was tripping my nuts off on Halloween, and somewhere in the trip I knew that I had made a Big Fucking Mistake and was not going to emigrate anywhere with that crazy sonofabitch. I pushed the Big Red Button on me and Nate after 6 months, as I was petrified that he would knock me up and I would be forced to carry his defective demon child, and didn't want to be isolated with the crazy man in a desert that should only contain lizards, cacti and small rodents, not a fucking huge city.

I also received some help from a friend who I have known since I was five at primary school, also high as a kite at the time and had been there during a major rough patch in 2001... Plugg kissed me, and I didn't say "stoppit i'm married!" and run away. Honestly, high as I was and feeling safe with Plugg, it was pretty hard not to fuck him. And I didn't... until later. 

Nate went to stay at my mothers, and subsequently made himself ill from drinking too much and fucking up his medication, laying on the "woe is me I'm dying" act, and I have to run around getting his blood work done to prove to him that unfortunately, he wasn't going to die. On Christmas Eve, 2004 he flew back to Phoenix. My mum said "I Told Not To Marry That Crazy Yank" I nodded. All you can do with Mum ownage, really. I later moved in with Plugg and found a stray kitten a bus stop on the day the tenancy ended on mine and Nate's flat. I called the cat Eris.

I was happy living with Plugg, we had the same friends and same interests to a degree, and the next 18 months or so we were content living with each other and the cats, going to raves with our friends. In this time I start talking to Nate again, and it seems pretty chilled. Like I can work on a divorce by end of 2006, get on with my life and me and Nate seemed to be behaving like rational adults. He stopped drinking and met a girl with a kid.

A little bit of background on Nate's new lady. She is a bulimic meth addict, with a child who's grandparents at the time were trying to take custody of the child (not Nate's, her first son by some other loser). Way to pick a winner there Nathan!

Nate started to correspond with my brother in law, and it was suggested that they take a holiday and visit Nate. This is duly booked, and arrangements are made. I hear from my mum that this may or may not involve... A Road Trip.

I raise an eyebrow and said to Mother, "Really? That's brave . Make sure they have extra money just in case something goes wrong and make sure they don't go out of Arizona, I dont trust that crazy fuck". This was a moment of Prophecy. I hate it when I'm right.

They were out there, and I received a call from my mother, saying "Your Husband has been arrested, somewhere in Arizona, and your sister, Brother-in-law and nephew are stuck somewhere in Buttfucknowhere, AZ with no idea where they are". My rage rose, I spewed bile all over Livejournal, luckily once I had calmed down, Google Earth proved very useful in locating where they were, and the other wonders of the interwebs meant we had a solution to fix the problem.

I found their location, told them (through my mother who was running the phone side of the operation) to get a motel room to avoid heatstroke what with them having a baby and a 6 year old with the group that was left in the lurch when the stupid asshole got arrested for not having the correct documents for the car he was driving. Fucktard.

Co-operative efforts between me and my mum, we find out that the nearest Greyhound bus station where they can get back to Phoenix is in Flagstaff, tickets are booked and a kind local gives them a ride to the bus station. Win for my family Getting Shit Done, and a random stranger restoring my faith in Americans.

This problem solved, they make their way to Phoenix.

Once my sister gets back to Phoenix, I get a phonecall. Apparently when she was in the car, and later the motel room, Meth Head starts wailing "my husband my husband" and got very jumpy when my name was mentioned. Big Sis says "well thats odd, he's not divorced Annie yet!" before leaving her and the sprog in the motel to her meltdown.

Further digging revealed that due to the aforementioned custody case, Nathan had married Meth Head so they could keep the child. How a Bipolar reforming alcoholic and a crazy Meth Head can seem like a stable family is franky, a fucking joke.

It dawns on me, then, that I will have to wait for my divorce. The friends and family that got him to admit to the bigamy were unwilling to make legal statements to that fact, and at the time I did not have the financial means to dig up enough evidence to fuck him with the full extent of the law. More Rage, feelings of betrayal by loved ones. More spewing onto LJ.

I freaked out, like life had yet again turned into a very dark comedy, and I fell out with my friend Michelle, who was one of the people who managed to weasel the information as to what the fuck was going on out of Nate yet still refused to help.

I remember a few days after I found out, standing in the New Forest, at my friends smallholding, outside the caravan in the orchard, drunk on whiskey and incredibly stoned screaming "WITH ALL THE UNIVERSAL LOVE IN THE WORLD FUCK OFF! Crazy motherfucker" I got stared at by some chickens.    
   
The resulting inability to communicate how I felt about the situation ruined my relationship with Plugg within 3 months, I then had to undergo counselling for depression, and ended up living back at my mums. She was about to marry, and had said "come home, the stability will do you good" All the time my mum was having an affair, the wedding was called off within a month of me moving in, and some new bloke moved in. :head-desk:

I've never been able to prosecute the cunt, due to lack of money, and its apparently hard work to get authorities to take this sort of thing seriously, despite being a felony. I know he crossed state lines to do it, and probably got married in San Diego, but it would have cost hundreds of pounds to prove it... Money I just don't have.

I then find out I cannot just divorce him without him returning notarised paperwork within 10 days, until 5 years separation. (Thats this Xmas.) I knew that to send him the documents would just be a very expensive piece of paper with no outcome, seeing as he now knew that I had found out, and fast and loose with legal documents is his speciality. I'm looking forward to turning 30. This waiting game is almost over, thank fuck.

And you may think Karma is hippy bullshit, but this year I heard he was left by Meth Head, holding 2 kids, caring for his mother who has health issues and is also Bipolar. He ran for local government as a Libertarian, wants to join the Marines, and is obsessed with UFO's.

Some may call this Karma, others self ownage.

I laughed so hard I almost prolapsed.

your sig image makes me unhappy whilst drunk. They were nice beers, and your flashy shit makes the room go squirly. This is NOT how i liek to enjoys fine ales.

PLEASE KINDLY PACK IT THE FUCK IN.

oh and submit your face to the mercy of the WOMP cabal and all this alt/not alt business will go away. thats a protip, as is the lose the spaggy banner suggestion..

That is all.

yea, wut the title says... 000 this is for you.

This Saturday


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