Boring John's World Looks Like This...

The world according to Boring John a la March 2007.

Well it looks a lot like the list below(*).

About ME (8)
BJ Thoughts (113)
BLOGS (20)
Communication (25)
Dreams (6)
Fear (13)
Jokes (1)
Life (39)
People (38)
Poetry (6)
Problems (32)
Procrastination (20)
Relationships (53)
Religion (1)
Sex (25)
Tosh (96)
What Do I Know? (77)
Wisdom (41)
Words (6)

These are the subjects that are interesting me, obviously.

Who'd have thought that Sex would only score a 25, especially when Relationships has the third highest score (number of postings) of 53. Come to think of it, perhaps a ratio of 1 to 2, sex to relationships, aint that bad. (I know lots of 'real' people (including some women) who would die for such portions! Yes, die!)

Clearly, I think too much in the virtual world. There's a surprise!

I do not think that much about religion (though that first post is a particularly fine one, even if I do say so myself), nor do I care for jokes.

I'm into wisdom and words and ME.

Google isn't into me, though. I don't even appear first in the listings for Boring John. I mean that's my name, Google, ferchrissakes! John Boring clearly is NOT Boring John. (And why am I only being found for stoopid terms like protectmyidentity.co.uk ? I need to get famous, and fast!)

But, what do I know? I know a lot about Tosh! ;-)

(And if you like my tosh then do subscribe to my blog whydontya. It's easy. You'll find a link to click below the pic of the little boy in the sailor's uniform. Any monkey can do it! [Erm, I think you'll find that that sailors uniform is the closest thing that kid, the Pele of his generation, had to a football shirt - Ed, aka The Writer.]

* Yes, this is yet another example of this character living out his life here, in this blog, when he should be making paper pages quiver with his wit and disdain for life.

What's wrong with little Johnny! Why won't he come out to play? (You're right, replied The Writer, let's add this post to the Procrastination label too and then get bouncing on the blue ball!)

Values?

(The character who expresses the views below really should be doing something else right now. He really should be acting out his character in the book that he stars in. Is this inactivity his fault, or the Writer's fault? I'm not sure and will get back to you on that one. Okay...)

Values: a question.

Do I share your values and if I don't should I?

This is one of those deep and meaningful questions that really should get the juices flowing. Understanding your answer really will help you communicate better, especially with those few that seem utterly puzzling to communicate with.

Consider answering the question your homework.

You are not allowed to post any comments on this blog without first satisfactorily answering that question to yourself. You will know what satisfactory means.

I'll get you started shall I by answering the question myself

My answer: Some of them, and no

My, your balls are looking...

BLUE!

(Apropos of nothing at all, I'm sure!)

PS That fellah Neruda, Pablo Neruda, musta had big blue balls too! As he wrote this once: Love is short, forgetting is so long

You Said What?

Little bird, you said what?

To who?

Oh my god, oh my god, "Please not Flanders, please not Flanders, please not Flanders"

Let's hope she thinks it's just one big joke. Let's hope she doesn't notice. Let's just hope she replies to A N Other instead!

Oh my god, oh my god, "Please not Flanders, please not Flanders, please not Flanders"

Groundhog (rainy) days

Message to MySpace Agent

Hi

Ever seen Groundhog Day? Great movie starring that guy with the hangdog face - Bill Murray. Anyway, he keeps on reliving the same day, over and over again. He gets bored, as you might imagine and he even actually tries to kill himself in more and more bizarre ways. This all fascinated me, especially as it didn't matter what he did that day, he would always wake up at the beginning of the very same day, and have to have the very same conversations with the very same people (he even had to watch the street beggar die, but that's another story).

Anyway, the reason I'm writing is that whatever he did (or wrote!) it did not change anything. There were no consequences to his actions, because whatever he did elicited the same response, or the same turn of events.

So, beam back to MySpace.

Imagine, if you will, someone sending someone else (let's use the initials A.B. to protect the guilty) MySpace messages. Witty, friendly, hostile, pained and, if I'm being honest, tediously long messages, not too dissimilar to this post in actual fact.

Imagine (if you can!) that A.B. never responds to these messages. Never. Would that mean that this someone would stop sending the messages eventually, irritated by the non-responsiveness. Or, would it mean, buoyed by the absence of feedback (negative or positive) this someone would just carry on sending. Click, send. Click, send. Click, send. Would this someone get more and more bold in what they feel able to say?

It's an interesting one, for sure. Only for those with nothing better to do on a Sunday I agree, for sure.

Take it from me, A.B., that a little birdy told me that silence has no power anymore. It's normal. It does not disarm or disable or demean. In fact it empowers and vindicates. Utterly so. Amazingly so. The little bird would chirp. The boy cried wolf too often, birdy would say. The little boy just cried too often.

No, what worked and what continues to work are short left-field replies that cut to the nub of the matter with brutal incision. For example, one such reply might involve the admittedly somewhat puzzling expression, ego vertigo. Puzzling to little birdy, anyway.

"Anyway, it's a rainy day (days I most enjoy)," this someone might say, "and I thought I'd share this thought with you. Yes, I admit it, I was thinking about you. It's Sunday, after all".

People are funny, aren't they. As are little birdies and little boys.

Why can't they all just get along?

Who Says RoMance is Dead?

Not Me!

Today's Message...

Today's message from the Don't Sweat The Small Stuff 2007 calendar is...

"Your time and energy are among your most precious and important assets. It's extremely important to make wise and well-thought-out choices about who you spend your time with."

Actually, this is the message for Sunday Feb. 25 - the day My Author went to Barcelona for a few days.

'Hmm, fascinating,' I heard him think.

Egotick Me

Egotistical?

Moi?

You've been reading the wrong blog!

PS Whilst you're here - would you mind terribly if you EgoTick Me!

Shapeshifters

What are shapeshifters?

I have an idea, but I may well be wrong. So let's see what others think:

• Shapeshifters are characters that play more than one role in a novel (initially a friend to the protagonist, say, that then becomes a foe)
  
  - From the world according to Nick Daws
  
  
• Shapeshifters are a band, man!
  
  - From the world according to Google
  
  
• Shapeshifting is a change in the physical form or shape of a person or animal
  
  - From the world according to Wikipedia
  
  
• Shapeshifters are those who trim themselves to suit everybody [so that they] soon whittle themselves away
  
  - From the misquoted world of Charles Schwab
  
  
• Shapeshifters are...?
  
  - From the world according to YOU

Yes, you the reader, I want to know what you think shapeshifters are. It's important. The world according to Boring John depends on it...

3 Little Words?

I opened one of those random quotations books yesterday, y'know like my mate Ego Fatigo based his (or her, I can't be sure!) website on. Basically, it was offering wisdom in love, and you just had to think of a love-related problem.

So, anyways, these are the three little words that resulted (I did it three times, see):

1. Transition
   
2. Healing
   
3. Get over it

So there you go.

Utter nonsense, as I suspected...

Things

I was looking over the Words Of Another, as is my wont in 2007, and I came across a poem written in 1996. All about change. (Ya don't say.) I think Our Main Man might have just split up from a long-term lover but he's keeping his lips shut at the moment - thinks I'm bullying him a bit too much, right now.

Ah, whatever. This is my world and I'll write what I know and make up anything I don't. As for bullying Mister - you aint seen nuthin yet!

And Suzie? Well, He and she were just friends. It seems that even in 1996 our Main Character wanted to do the right thing rather than simply get some. "When will we ever learn, eh!".

Read on (MacDuff)...

THINGS
(Ode to Suzie,...)

Things Change.
Things grow,
things decay
“Things usually work out!”

Things change.
Things become special,
things just f-a-d-e away
And “some things just never change!”

Things change.
The things you do,
and the things you don’t do
“Things will never be the same again!”

Things, eh!

Me, Myself and I...

A winning combination. Who needs anybody else, eh!

(Hee hee.)

PS Happy Valentine's Day to y'all out there. Let's hope you got that card / text message or email that you were hoping for. Until next time, when the case is sol-ved...

What Women Want

According to leading dating expert Brian Caniglia women are looking for the these qualities in their male partner:

1. Personality
   
2. Physical beauty
   
3. Excitement

Trouble is, according to Brian, they're also looking for these qualities too

1. Confidence
   
2. Mystery
   
3. Respect

What makes this revelation the conundrum that is boy-girl relationships is that one set of qualities are conscious (that is openly expressed) and one set are unconscious (that is inwardly expressed).

I see, thinks Boring John.

So I should stop listening to what women say they want and start listening to what women think they want.

Easy. Innit!

And then I need to improve myself a just a little

Because, as my mate Meatloaf almost once sang, "two out of six aint bad!"

Roses Are Red!...

When I grow up...

Love story? Tragedy? Farce? Or just another boring sitcom repeated on ITV?

[MySpace message: unsent]

Hi You,

I'm not coming to London this weekend!

That means I won't be able to visit you on Sunday evening; which is a pity, because I'd really have liked to have seen you again, in person. (Shit mods or no!) I'm going to arrange another visit to my friend soon, cos I don't like letting him down either. (He lives on Bellenden Rd - know it?)

Still, it's been interesting 'communicating' with you these last few weeks. Looks as though things haven't changed between us much, though; just two more of Shakespeare's players sticking rigidly to their (life) scripts, I guess.

Do you know that it's exactly two years since we last met. So perhaps we shall meet again in two more years, or never even. (Does that sound like tragedy to you? Lol). As it's Valentine's Day soon I shall buy you another red rose; but I shall keep it for meself, this time ;-)

What else shall I do, instead?

Well, I have boxes to move, rooms to reorganise, and lie-ins to indulge in. 'All go' in Yorkie-land for sure, and definitely not boring. And I might do a bit more writing (I actually wrote a new poem, don't you know - 4 lines, but still.)

So now I have to invent some cock n bull story about why I can't come and visit my mate and all his American chums.

Maybe I'll say that I missed my train due to the fact that I was kidnapped by aliens. They forced me to lie awake for several hours and relive several of the worst moments in my life, that made my face twist bitter-and-twistedly. The aliens then hid in my cupboard and played peek-a-boo with my car keys even though I just wanted to go to sleep. And when I looked in the cupboard the aliens had vanished, having sneaked into my car and driven away whilst I was obviously not looking. At the same time they made all the buses vanish too and forced all of the trains to only go from the south to the north making travelling down south, almost impossible.

Or I could just tell him I'm not coming, I don't know yet.

[The fact that I'm finally rewriting this at 18.40 on Sunday means that he already knows that I'm not coming. My friend's smart like that, though he didn't quite understand why the aliens would want to hide in my cupboard...]

Anyways, am sorry we're not going to meet; I just don't have the energy for traipsing down to London right now. (I'm not as used to insomnia as you are.)

Adios guapa

Me

Da Other Guy?

Could this be Da Other Guy I refer to...

(Or is this just yet another lame poem by yet another lame nobody soul!)


Poem 666
========

Queen Bitch
You aint seen
nothin Sis
For I'm the King,
the QB of this dome main

Where are you
first thing?

I... wake with Him;
taunt Him morning,
noon and night.
Make up stories, I do,
'bout You
Who you with, and
why - you're - not - thinking - of - Him

Your twisted and bitter
refrain?
Disdain!
I got fifty better
in my locker,
locked away

I delve deep
into HisStory
Play out his doomed
scenes once more,
(Just in case he forgets)

You help, oh yes
But you're just part of
an extensive life-long
cast-list.
...Just a player
But *I* star,
in the mind of
my Master

I know my Man
I haunt and
I taunt,
like no-one else
can
*I'm* the Queen Bitch

I undermine
I talk back
I demean (LIKE A DAEMON!)

I reduce
I traduce

I keep him alive!
Just so I can do it
all over again

I'm the man,
the Pain Body man

At your service...

If you please...
(IF YOU DON'T PLEASE!)

I'm the devil,
if you will
His precious
3 letters
e.g. (?) Oh!

Or try this 4-letter word:
Fear

I know You too...

I know your curse...

(Charmed... I'll
be round Yours soon!)

And Finally...

All is not well in the world of Boring John.

Not only does what he write have to be read in the wrong order -- And Finally, should come after the two Boring John posts [perhaps there's a setting I can set? Ed.] -- but now he finds out that Some Other Guy is using his words, his thoughts and ideas, too.

Some Other Guy?

I like to call him Da Other Guy and here's the proof.

Thankfully I got an inkling of what was happening yesterday and messed with his karma man. I messed with his karma. Hee hee.

Who's writing what and why, is what I'd like to know. And fast. Yes, this post qualifies as Tosh for sure...

Boring John Still Looking For...

Inspiritation

Another Amazon.co.uk review, this time of Abby Lee's Girl with a One Track Mind

Whilst the use of such a limited selection of words may work fine for a diary or blog, a book demands more variety. The subject matter becomes irrelevant when the writing style is so lacklustre.

There is hope yet, in Boring John's mind, for this year's small project. :-)

As for Abby Lee, she's gone done did it, despite the comments of the reviewer above who was (clearly) disappointed. "Did I read a different book?" he complains in his review. Ouch.

Boring John is looking for a story?

Could it be be based around something like this?

"If you have problems around, self worth, relationships, proving yourself, fitting in, people pleasing or a part or you that you keep hidden this book will find it and give you the tools to over come it."

- Taken from a Amazon.co.uk customer review of Reinventing Your Life

Change?

I'm all for change, I really am, but what does change actually mean?

For example, does change mean doing the things you don't want to do (as stipulated in my 2007 New Year Resolutions)? Or does it mean changing how you think about the things you don't want to do so that you do want to do them? Or does it mean allowing yourself not to do those things you don't want to without giving it another thought?

And, whilst you're thinking about this, I have another question for you:

• why do some people think too much, whilst others don't think enough?

Insomnia?

This morning I woke up and went to the bathroom; I then looked at my watch and it said: 2:57

Hmm.

After much tossing, turning and gnashing of the gnashers, I looked at my watch and it said: 3:39

Hmm.

"I wanna go to bloody sleep!"

I looked again at my watch, and it said: 4:45. Then 5.13

"Fooks sake!"

Why?

Well my "Don't sweat the small stuff" calendar entry for Thursday February 8th might yield a clue. It said: "If you can let go of the past, free yourself from it -- your resentments, judgements, concerns, anger, boredom and frustration -- you'll open the door to a brand-new beginning."

Either that, or you'll get a good night's sleep.

Pay attention!

Attention (to detail) is needed to be a good writer, just as it is needed to be a good listener and a good lover.

So it would follow that a good writer would be a good lover. Wouldn't it?

More Regurgitated Words

The World According To Boring John is taking shape; somewhere else, not here though.

The process has begun; the book has begun.

And here are some words, some regurgitated words, that did not make it (so far, anyway)

• Girl eats Boy
  Boy leaves girl
  Girl eats Boy again
  Girl is sick
  
• Miss Smilla's feeling for stuff that is white as
  
• Ronnie Corbett Ate My Hamster

Why the Crinkly Face?

Crinkly face? Sour faced trout?
What's that about?

Hey, it's only a Red Rose,
ya Sourpuss Mush?

(Hee hee.)

"Life is a crock of pstrąg"

Pstrag: a predatory fish that eat other fish

Yes, Polskis really do have it much worse than Yorkies

Fleshy enough for ya?

I just visited an interesting website called My Penis and I

It tries to nail down the truth as to whether penis size matters when it comes to sex and pleasure. Unfortunately, there is not enough flesh on the website bones to decide (pardon the puns) one way or another.

Just have to watch the (short?) film, I guess.

"I'm not cool!"

I'm not cool

I'm not cool

I'm not cool

I wanna be cool but I'm not

(Repeat)

I APOLOGISE!

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!

I apologise.

For every time I pissed you off, stood you up, made you feel second best, didn't get your joke, didn't flatter you or 'had a cow, man', I apologise.

For those times I dumped on you, rejected you, didn't listen to you or overreacted to what you'd said, I apologise.

For the odd time I ignored you, hurt your feelings, laughed when I should have cried, hugged you when I shouldna touched you, I apologise

For those things I did wrong that I didn't realise I'd done wrong, or those things I don't remember no more, I apologise.

I apologise for apologising too much.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!

Right?

Can we start again. Can we? C-a-n w-e s-t-a-r-t a-g-a-i-n ?

Can we draw a line under this?

It's not going to be perfect from here on in, but I will stop saying sorry.

Agreed?

Okay?

I'm sorry.

Let's move on...

(Cos soon we'll all be dead.)

And then we'll both be sorry.

What's the point of Boring John?

Hmm, time for a little bit of introspection methinks. A little bit more than usual, actually. So what's the point of Boring John?

Well, Boring John is a fictional character that provides the author a vehicle to express himself. I guess. Obviously the author doesn't agree with everything that appears on here. (Which bits does he agree with and which bits does he think are tosh? Ah, that's for him to know and for you to find out!) I find Boring John amusing, though. Do you?

But Boring John is more than that. It's an opportunity for the author to write. And in the absence of the development of a first novel, writing blog entries up here will have to do.

So, in that vein, here are some of the author's notes, scribbled almost illegibly onto a scrap of A4 paper about some guy or other...

(A)

As he grew up he thought little about it. When he was a teenager girls just didn't look. But when he was in his twenties, when some girls looked (but not the ones he wanted to) he decided he would only marry a woman when he truly, truly, truly knew that he would not want to look any more. (That's a lot of 'truly's.)

(B)

"What can you write a novel about?" she asked, sneeringly

Life, love, anything... something.

But the ridicule continued. "You have not lived! You have not experienced! You have not done!"

No?

Doing is not necessary to write my name but thinking is. Yes thinking, imagining, trying to understand - I do a lot of that.

My only ambition after writing and seeing this book published is that she - Ellie - reads the book. She won't though, or if she does she'll find it dull. [She's forgotten about it already. She's moved on. She's worrying about her own life, her own goals, (the Iraq war) and certainly won't remember that time when she was a little too quick to dismiss someone else's dream. Get over it. - Ed.]

(C)

This is not a history of love, Nicole, but thanks for sharing. This is the story of how one little boy finally squares the circle of love.

(D)

Once upon a time there was a boy whose Mum and Dad fell out of love. They divorced. He was six. He then decided that he would never ever, ever, ever divorce his wife. And that would mean he would have to be really, really, really sure he married the right woman

Sexual Equality?

I know this woman, you probably know one too, who couldn't find love. She'd meet men, lots of them, but one thing or another wasn't right. Then she meets this guy -- this is not autobiographical by the way, I was not that man; I wish -- and he likes her, and she likes him. But then, subconsciously, as the relationship develops, she tries to put him second -- yes, she still likes him but she won't be able to stay with him that weekend; she tries to get her way. The man isn't happy with this, though. He uses the word no. "You can stay with me," he says, "and we can meet your friends or let's just not bother. "

And what did she say?

"I do."

And what else did she say?

"Men have let me get away with everything, in the past."

(And she doesn't respect those men.) I said that.

The moral of the story? Sometimes women have to be tamed, for want of a better word. (I thought to use broken in but it would give entirely the wrong meaning to what I'm trying to say. Nice image, though, eh! Lol.)

Yes, sometimes they need, nay crave, to be tamed. The winner -- the so-called Mr Right -- is the man who does the taming. Simple. As. That.

Okay, back to me. (That's why I'm writing this after all.)

Okay, so if taming works for women then why doesn't it work for men?

Okay, when I say men I mean Boring John.

Does Boring John need to be tamed?

Yes.

Okay, where are the taming instructions then?

It doesn't work like that.

In fact, you have to ignore what Boring John or the man or the woman says about what they need, what they want and what they fear, to a large extent. This is one case where actions speak louder than words.

Take (appropriate) action.

It isn't easy, but it is doable. (Is that a real word- doable?)

--

Anyway, the point of this whole piece is that it isn't Boring John's fault that he's a sad ol' git all alone. It's all cos no-one ever tamed him.

And that makes him feel all comfortable and somewhat smug. Yes, it's everyone else's fault not his. Yes the world is indeed wonderful - thank you Louis. And yes, I will buy your Big Issue, I will...

What's Wrong With The Wife?

What's wrong with The Wife?

The Wife

My wife

The difference?

Discuss.

--

(Note: this is now, officially, the first poem I have written for years. Hurrah! (I think it's poetic, anyway.) Perhaps I shall add it to my collection.)

No wisdom in MySpace!

I got this bulletin the other day. It's been removed by the poster so I can't remember the full details, but it kinda goes like this (obviously I've improved the grammar and spelling!)

Subject: Women beware men [summat like that]

Just to let you know that my friend met this man the
other day from MySpace. He texted and emailed and
wanted to meet up so she finally gave in and agreed
to meet up. Well... They met for a beer and they kissed
and, er, I'll spare you the gory details. Anyway, as he
dropped her off the guy said: "Thank you now fuck off!"
She's really upset [No kidding] and he's not replied to
any of her texts [Again. No kidding]. Why are men such
bastards?

I don't know why all men (implied) are bastards.

But I do wonder why some women are so f*cking stupid.

Don't get me going. I can sense a pedestal moment. No. I will resist. (Still mopping up the blood from the last nasty incident.)

More Myspace Madness

A True Boyfriend Would...

-Call her EVERY night
- Leave her sweet texts to wake up to
- Sneak up behind her
- Grab her by the waist
- Tell her she has amazing eyes
- When your friends walk by say this is my girlfriend
- Say i love you to her face not JUST over the phone
- If she's sad, take her in your arms and tell her everything will be okay
- NEVER CHEAT ON HER!!!
- Kiss her on the forehead
- Tickle her even when she says stop
- Don't say i love you Unless you Mean It.
- Listen to her when she talks
- Tell her your secrets.
- Protect her.
- Show her the respect she deserves.

Girls repost as - a true boyfriend would ..

Guys repost as - I would do this for her anyday

Boring John repost as - And what would a true girlfriend do in return to get this perfect boyfriend?

Lol.

Can you really imagine how long a relationship would last if a girl actually had a so-called true boyfriend!

Imagine telling a girl - I prefer the word woman, actually - "I love you" only when you meant it. Yep! No sex, no fun and probably no relationship.

Imagine tickling a woman even when she tells you to stop - "F*CKING STOP, Aaargh". Yep. No fun, a black eye and probably no relationship.

Even worse, imagine telling a woman your true secrets - "you see, I fancy your friend too and would secretly love to do her and you in a threesome". Yep! No balls, no sex and probably no relationship.

Note: there's a reason that secrets are secrets darling. "What goes on in my head stays in my head"

Okay, granted. Never cheat on her. I agree on that one. That's just a baad thing to do, mon. Don't go there. Especially with her sister. (Believe!) Lol

Boring John's not bitter. Oh no. The fact that he was this perfect boyfriend once (as near as dammit, anyway!) and what did it get him. Yep! No sex, no fun and definitely no relationship.

The thing is, if the above boyfriend stuff worked, then men would do it.

Darwin is to be blame for this startling revelation, not Boring John. It's called evolution. It's called trying stuff out and seeing what happens. It's also called saying one thing, and meaning another.

So, whilst I'm on me bloody pedestal, bitter and twisted like, here's a Myspace Message back at ya!

WOMEN! If you want men to change, then change how you behave towards them!

Otherwise, stop moaning. Ahright!

(Obviously, the same goes to MEN too with regards to women. To these creatures ruled by their paints, stop fawning at big boobed numbskulls, complaining later that you have nothing to talk to her about and she really only likes you for your money and fast cars. Well, d'uh! Etc. You can fill in the gaps, especially if you are a woman!)

Right. I'm getting a nose bleed from standing so high up on this pedestal.

Actually, that's the worst thing about being perfect - the nosebleeds!

See ya later.

"Life is a crock of shit"

"Life is a crock of shit"
- Kilgore Trout

"...God give me strength for it was much more than I could bear!"
- [Author without name]

So what does Boring John think about life? (And why is that bloody author without a bloody name, still? Why is he - must be a bloody he - griping on about wimmin when we're talking about life here? Back to the script...)

What does Boring John think?

He aint as cool about it as he should be, that's fer sure. (Clearly.) Dagnabbit. I mean he still gets annoyed when he tries to arrange a meeting with one particular imaginary character - a soiree for goodness sake. All she has to do is fail to respond, fail to answer his questions about the meeting of minds (?) for a few days and he gets annoyed, he gets agitated and he gets aggressive.

Huh?

What's annoying about that?

• The fact that none of his other friends (real or imaginary) do this to him. They all say, 'Meet me here at 7pm. Here's my mobi in case there's any trouble. Here's my email. Blah blah blah'. So what?
  
• The fact that he has absolutely no idea why, after a few years of 'knowing him' this imaginary character still behaves with caution towards him. Still waters might run deep, he thinks, but no one ever got run over (repeatedly) by still, freakin, waters whether they run deep or not.
  
• The fact that this caution smacks of fear. Fear? he asks himself. What does a freakin imaginary character like Boring John have to do to prove that he is not the bad guy in this story? He's a genuine, bona fide, good guy. Extra good on Tuesdays. Yeah he makes mistakes, but his heart's in the right place. He aint someone to fear. Etc.

The Iraq war; Shilpa versus Jade; July 7th Conspiracies* Now these things are annoying. That stuff above? When you're coolio with life, it's a rant on a blog at most. Move along. Nothing to see here. More et ceteras.

Mr Editor, you're right! You know what, it's not annoying.

And Boring John is only writing this piece because it used to be annoying, f*cking annoying indeed. The most annoying thing about it, though, was the fact that he really didn't understand this behaviour and HE LIKES TO UNDERSTAND more than anything else in the world. More than dancing; more than sticking it in; and more than football or talking about David Beckham's salary (how much?)!

But Boring John is a little wiser these days, the straight-jacket a tad more comfortable; and the need to understand is slowly being replaced by the need to accept. (Though he's been saying that for a long time in his various efforts to get the knickers off. [That's harsh - Mr Editor])

So is life a crock of shit or is Kilgore just a sour-faced trout?

Tell me, in person, why don't ya! Whether there are other Bohemian Creatures to witness the conversation or not. Who needs 'em? We don't.

--

(*) Note: it is not 7/7 (seven seven). We freakin DON'T use that expression for our dates in the UK. I know it would have confused the Americans if the July 7th bombers blew themselves up on the 8th of July. They'd be thinking 7th of August not 8th of July and it wouldn't quite have the same ring to it. No, it obviously had to be the 7th of July so everyone understands. In the same way it had to be doubly spelt out to our wealthier cousins in the great US of A: 9/11 - could it be any clearer? It's great that the terrorists had such an understanding of Western media when they planned these terrorist atrocities, it really is.

Yes. I am digressing. What time shall we meet? Lol

Pain?

"Much of your pain is self-chosen. It is the bitter portion by which the physician within you heals your sick self" -- Kahlil Gibran

Well Kahlil much of my pain has now gone. My hair is cut, see, and the world feels much less heavy on my shoulders today. Hooray!

(I have been a bit anxious about the impending hair cut, though. Hence the lack of witty posts on here. You hadn't noticed you say? Hmmm.)

If I Were A Porn Star...

No this is not one of those stoopid what's your porn star name thingies. If you're looking for that you need to find a different blog. (Go on. Slurp off. Sling your hoook! Tch.)

No, this is simply if I were a porn star then I'd probably do it like this too (but maybe lose the moustache!)

Tomorrow?

"Today, I feel like I am able for the first time to live my life as I wish. That means not being bound by someone else's real (or unreal) agenda. So I don't have to get married, have kids and buy the extra large t-shirts. I don't have to judge myself if I live my life in a way that is different to others. Etc. What I do (or don't do) is up to me.

"Boring John is dead. Long live Boring John!"

More Questions

What is my life's purpose?

If I am, as I sometimes believe, so absolutely marvelous then why do I irritate some and feel awkward with others?

Is it okay for people not to like you?

And, erm, should I know what my life's purpose is and if I should then... what is my life's purpose?

I must be going crazy...

I've just been doorstopped by a Jehovah's Witness and he was making a lot of sense!

(Where's the rest of that bottle of red!)

Why?...

Why do I want everyone to like me?

(And why don't they?)

"Move over Ego Fatigo" says Boring John

Problem:

I have a thoughtless boyfriend - I want him to be more understanding and supportive - how do I do that eh?

Ego Fatigo and Mahatma Gandhi answers:

It is unwise to be too sure of one's own wisdom. It is healthy to be reminded that the strongest might weaken and the wisest might err.

---

Wooah! Much as I respect my old mucker Ego Fatigo (and that Gandhi geyser knew a thing or too, also) I have to take issue, serious issue, at the advice being handed out here.

THIS is what the answer to the problem above, my dear reader (don't you agree!)

Boring John Says:

If you wanted an apple then why did you pick an orange!

(Is that a bit harsh, I'm not sure as I don't know the exact situation our problem-owner is talking about. I do speak as an avid member of the [Apple] Club, though, and I will admit to being annoyed when women complain that men are not a member of our club when they never professed to be in the first place. I also get annoyed when women complain that men are not like them. Well, duh!, that's because they're men! (Men that make similarly dumb comparisons to women make me cross too, don't worry.))

Another Problem:

What makes a guy chase after a girl for six months, swear undying love and devotion, promise to solve all her problems, put up with all her hang ups and deal with all her insecurities, then dump her in the worst way after 3 months in a relationship?

Ego Fatigo and Unknown answers:

When you're arguing with a fool, make sure he isn't doing the same thing.

No, no, no Ego Fatigo! Man, there's a much better answer below for sure...

Boring John Says:

If you make a man dance for his supper then don't be surprised if he learns his steps a little too well.

Final Problem:

I need a problem

Ego Fatigo Answers:

Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan 'press on' has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.

That's better, Ego Fatigo, much better! Keep on persisting [sickish mish] and those problems will soon come knocking on your doorstep, I'm sure!

10 Things I Am Going To Do In 2007

In no particular order:

1. Write a novel
2. Get my hair cut. (I haven't cut my hair in over three years, don't you know, so I'm due!)
3. Change. Change what? Change (or at least begin to change) everything that needs to change and challenge the behaviour in myself that I don't like
4. Eat frogs, everyday!
5. Visit as many of my friends as I can whether they live locally or they live darn sarf!
6. Hang out with my family more
7. Run 10K in under 40 minutes
8. Do things I don't like doing; e.g. talk when I want to be quiet, go out when I want to stay in, smile or laugh when I want to snarl or loathe. I want to start doing things I don't like doing so that I start liking doing them. (Got that?)
9. Stop flirting, start talking; stop leering, start listening; stop wondering, start learning
10. And, finally, love my leetle self a leetle bit more (ahhhh!)

Puked yet?

Well, there's more.

The above begins on Jan 1st 2007 and ends when I've completed it or when I have more important things to do.

So there.

5 New Year Resolutions

A character I know wants to change. And the beginning of a new year is as good a time as any to try and effect those changes. So here they are - unchanged, so as not to protect the innocent.

Changes

#1 - Start treating my work as a business, and not as work

#2 - Stop worrying about my love life; just do it (thank you Nike, but I won't be wearing the shoes!)

#3 - Stop worrying about anything, especially offending other people (hey I offend people whilst worrying about not offending them, so I might as well not worry about it!)

#4 - Start being more direct with the opposite sex (this combines changes #2 and #3)

#5 - Stop planning, start doing

So, character I don't know, what are you going to change, what resolutions do you have for 2007?

Random Sunday Musings

(scribbled on a notepad last Sunday)

"Only me!"

I like being on my own. Especially in a bar that is empty, like a few moments ago. Now the chattering voices of others highlight my aloneness. But still - I like being on my own. (I wonder why I resist it so much.)

Seven Sundays

I have fond memories of Sundays. About seven or eight of them, in particular. I won't elaborate here as I do not want to incriminate myself any further with the person who I shared those Sundays with. They were interesting and stimulating times, for sure. Shame I was so paranoid, possessive and so un-aware of my power. The same as her, really.

I know a man who went with a prostitute in Amsterdam (probably not on a Sunday, though). He spent his hard-earned money for a squallid twenty minutes or so simply to be able to draw on the memory of the experience in many future moments. Well, I've never been with a prostitute (maybe the ball puts them off, or puts me off I don't know!) but I do know what he means. Those seven Sundays were worth it for me, worth the cost; those Sundays still live on

And if I ever get to have my own Billy Pilgrim moment I will... well, I will savour the 'pink, vodka, ice' much more and perhaps complain a little less about the pink, the vokda and the ice.

Daft Hairstyles

A man across from me in the bar has a daft hairstyle (says he!). It's like his hair has been folded down the middle so there is twice as much there as on the rest of his head. [I'm sure this hair-style will have a name, and I'm sure that name will be not be Daft Hairstyle but I don't know it's name, it just looks daft.] If his hair was the Christmas paper wrapped around a present then that present would have to be re-wrapped. Yes this is a bit of a daft way to describe a hair-style but then it's a daft hairstyle and proof that the philosophy of the Emperor's New Clothes lives on.

I blame David Beckham for it - he of some of the daftest hair styles since the 70s - and fashion

I actually saw this daft hairstyle again on a fellow train passenger (I was returning from Barcelona, again - no daft hairstyles just a daft lack of instructions as to how to get around town). This man with the daft hairstyle was sitting diagonally opposite me on the seat in front of mine, and he was sitting with an older carbon copy of himself (must have been his Dad) without the daft hairstyle.

I seriously had a strong desire to tell this daft-hairstyled man how fucking stupid his daft hairstyle was. But I didn't. I didn't partly because I also have my own (unique) daft hairstyle and partly because it wouldn't be nice to be so aggressive about someone's hairstyle (my Mum would not have approved).

The thing is, he probably paid good money at the barbers for that daft hairstyle. Daft "baa baa" bastard!

Ugly Betty?

So, ugly is wearing glasses and having teeth a British person would be ashamed of huh?

(Sigh. Only in America.)

Isn't It Just!

"It is a pity when one, either through force of circumstance or because one is afraid of being ridiculed by others, won't produce and expose to everyone that little spark of something special which is unique to him alone"
- Ken Russell

Father Ted Confessional

(A work in progress!)

Boring John:

Father, I have a problem with women, Father, too many women.

Yes, I have these women friends, Father, friends that are women. And either I think they want something more from me, Father, or I want something more from them. Year after year, Father, this list of women where the names sometimes change, Father, as do the situations, but it's still a list of women, Father and I just want some friends, really I do Father, just some friends and some smiles and some fun. Father, what can I do?

For example, I have this good friend Father, really good. Trouble is we sometimes have this really great sex, Father, really great. And I keep trying to resist the great sex, Father, resist the temptation. But it's just so great and so physically fulfilling, Father, and... and my woman friend thinks it's great too, Father. She seems perfectly happy, Father, but I'm leading her on, aren't I, I'm leading her on? I know that I am, I'm leading her on; and that's wrong, Father, that has to be wrong. What can I do, Father?

I have another woman friend who gets all deep and meaningful with me, Father; but we've only met once, Father, and I hardly know her at all. And she says she doesn't want one of them relationship things with me, Father, or even that casual kind of sex thing. But - ah, you're a man of the world Father I know that you are - it's one of those situations where what you say is different to what you mean, Father, I know that it is. I know you know what I mean, Father, that's why I'm here talking to you now. I know you know what I mean, Father!

I even have a woman friend who finds it fascinating that I have all these woman friends. Trouble is, Father, she's looking for someone special too, I know; I know she's looking for the right man, Father, and that might not be me, Father, might not be me. And she wouldn't be so interested in my list of women if she wasn't interested in me, Father. I know it, Father, and I know you know it too, Father.

But it's not all me, me, me, Father, not it isn't! I have one woman friend who I don't seem to be able to get from under my skin. We rarely talk these days, or meet and share only the obscurest of communications, Father, every now and then. We do that instant messenger thing or we meet on Myspace, Father (you know that Myspace place where that Borat character lives). But it's not a proper meeting, Father, and we don't really talk to each other, don't really speak. The daft thing is, Father, she doesn't even want a relationship anymore, with anyone Father, let alone me - she's told me as such, Father, told me as such. So she hardly encourages me at all, Father, yet there she is still under my skin. Why Father, why?

Yes, Father, I probably do encourage these situations year in year out, you're right.

Yes, Father, I probably do like to keep my options open; you're right about that too.

Yes, Father, perhaps I do fear committing again, Father, fear getting hurt again. You know how it is, Father, you know how it is.

But I DO want this all to stop, Father, I really do. No more lists of women, Father, no more potential situations; just friends and a life of fun rather than worry, Father. You know how it is, Father, and you know how it should be Father, I know that you do, Father, I know that you do.

So, Father, what can I do? What can I do Father?

Dougal:

"You have a what, now?"

They Laughed At Me...

They laughed at me when I started playing the piano...

Erm, I mean they laughed at me when they looked at my shoes, my black pair of Campers.

And now everyone wears these casual yet stylish shoes, whether black, brown or blue. A different pair for every day of the week, almost, and the shops are full of 'em.

"Exactly, John!" said Julie "That's cos Campers are fashionable now."

Exactly, sis, exactly.

"Huh?"

I wear what suits me not what suits fashion.

Or, I prefer not to make a certain noise when I go shopping and when I put on clothes (or when I talk, or think or even write).

"What noise?"

Baaaaa!

"Ah!" she paused a moment, "You're so marvellous, John..."

Another pause.

"Maybe that's why they laughed!"

Ah!

The Year Of Living Dangerously

The year of living dangerously begins!

(You have been warned!)

Actually, it began a few days ago - I was just a bit busy with other stuff to let you know until now!

Changes - PS

"Let me know when you are free and I will be happy to share my thoughts on transformations and changes etc. and I promise I will not wave some mistletoe in your face in my feeble-as-usual effort to get a Christmas kiss. I will drink beer in an alluring manner, though; I've been practicing. Lol"

Attaboy!

Changes

Changes happen every second of every minute of every day. That's life, baby! But, despite this, some personal changes just don't happen or they don't happen fast enough. Now I can live with not possessing a Bill Clintonesque charisma, but the other stuff below... well, it's got to change.

Welcome to my changes. And, yes, they're timed to begin happening on Jan 1st, 2007

Change #1 - start treating my work as a business, and not as work

Change #2 - stop worrying about my love life; just do it (thank you Nike, but I still won't be wearing the shoes !)

Change #3 - stop worrying about anything, especially offending other people (hey I offend people whilst worrying about not offending them, so I might as well not worry about it!)

Change #4 - start being more direct with the opposite sex (this combines changes #2 and #3)

Change #5 - stop planning, start doing

So what's going to change in your world in 2007?

Do tell!

Little Boy talking...

Sometimes little boys try to help little girls.

Sometimes, this is not because little boys are weak and feeble and always trying to please.

Sometimes this is not because little boys are trying to control, to gain, to obtain.

Sometimes this is not for the wrong reason (nor the right).

Sometimes - quite simply - little boys try to help little girls

http://www.squidoo.com/search/results/little%20boys

A New Year Approaches!

Thank f***!

I can't wait for this year to end and for the new one, the new me, to begin...

Oh yes!

What's Jane Austin doing here?

"Why not seize the pleasure at once? How often is happiness destroyed by preparation, foolish preparation!"

- Jane Austen

Erm, Jane, can I get back to you on that in a little while! I've just go to...

Ego Fatigo

Interesting character that Ego Fatigo; hangs with some interesting types indeed.

Just overheard this conversation between Ego Fatigo and one Goethe no less

"Treat a man as he is and he will remain as he is; treat a man as he can and should be and he will become as he can and should be."

(Do you think now is not the time to interrupt 'em to see if they want one of me Terry's All Gold then? Yum, yum more for me I guess!)

Raindrops keep falling on me head!

Great song, eh (and from a great movie too)!

Actually... actually, I did get wet today but I'm not going to tell you why because getting wet puts you in that sort of mood really. I'm sure you understand. And if you don't. Tough t*ts!
Yes, tough tots to you matey boy, because I'm feelin like a wet one (and not in a good sense) and so I just don't bloomin' well care who I offend today. Oh no I don't... (It's pantomine season. Already.)

By the way, in case you didn't realise it, the above is what's known as tosh!

What! You can do better? Show me!

Am I a classic castration candidate...

i.e. sensitive, well-intentioned and weak?

(Don't answer that!)

Coming or Going?

I don't know whether I'm coming or going?

Y'see, should I live here in Blogger world, or here in Boring John Myspace world ?

(Don't have many friends in either! Lol)

Are You A Psychic Vampire?

- http://healing.about.com/cs/energyhealing/a/aa_vampires.htm

I thought so! Bugger off will ya, and leave me alone. There's only so much Lucozade Isotonic fluids a boy can drink.

No wonder I'm in bed be ten these days. ('Appen Mr Wilkes. 'Appen!.)

Clear off the lot of ya!

What I Want For Christmas!

I want to solve all of the world's problems. Am I being too ambitious? Should I, instead, sort myself out first? Or how about if I started with you and your problems... "Tell me about your childhood"

Confessions Of A Little Boy

Dear G

This might sound a bit of a big drama, but...

I think I see what my problem is, now (after our chat). It's a big one, too, I think. I fear being with a girl, any girl, where I might get rejected, again; where what I want is ignored.

For some reason that really, really scares me! :-(

Yes, it makes me scared. I just don't know what to what to do about it. Because, obviously, I will never be able to have a long relationship with a lady unless I am ready to do things without worrying about it going wrong.

I think it's all because my Mum left my Dad when I was younger. Dunno. I can't remember much about it, what happened or anything - the memories are already buried away. First thing I can remember is living in someone else's house with someone else's family in a place called Linthwhaite. Mum had only just left him, then. I was five.

So even simple stuff like 'taking things as they come', even these words frighten me. Cos what if something goes wrong!? It might do, you never know.

And, as you know, I really don't like upsetting people because... well, I guess I'm frightened they might leave me or get mad at me.

So I try and please, so they don't get cross; I try and please people, girls, and I try not to complain, try to be good, but after a while I just get so mad inside that it all boils over. And then they leave me or I leave them. Like what happened with you and me.

Sorry.

Thanks for chatting a while ago, though. I think it did help. It helped me see that sometimes I'm nothing more than a scared little boy who doesn't want it to go wrong again.

BJ x

I Don't Fancy You Anymore...

Clare Grogan!

:-(

But I guess I look older these days too

I Like Me!

(Or, if I were chocolate I'd eat myself!)

I like me. I mean I like my blog. I sometimes re-read my world and I think 'I like you mate, you're alright'.

But then I like *me* so why is it a surprise that I like reading my blog! (Hey, someone's gotta!) Others like me too; they think I'm cool, different, interesting. And in return, I like them. That seems to be the deal, anyway. Yes, I much prefer them to the people that think I'm a dull slap-head who takes life far too seriously and doesn't even wear blue jeans.

Hey, they do have a point. I don't wear blue jeans, that often. (Do you?)

Being different, however, means that maybe you don't have that David Beckham appeal. But then I can live with that. Really. I wouldn't want to swap with him for a million pounds. Erm, okay, two million. If you insist. But there would have to be a quickie divorce. (Yes, that would be the only quickie (or slowie!) there would have to be.)

The great thing about my not wanting to be David Beckham is that I'm pretty sure that he would not want to be me, Boring John. So it's a win-win attitude all round, I think. He gets to stay rich and famous and desirable to millions and I get to be me, interesting and different, and desirable to a select, discerning few.

Aint life marvellous how it arranges things so that we all get to be who we are!

Yes I can safely say I'm my biggest fan.

Aren't you, yours?

5

A character I know quite a lot about was running in the rain last night, at the end of a six mile run. Almost back at his running club, and seemingly for no reason at all, he just shouts out the number "Five!", clear as you like. He then trailed off with "six, seven, eight"

Bit strange, really.

Wonder if it had anything to do with the hulking articulated lorry that sped close by him on the road at the time.

Was he trying to tell himself something?

Or is five just a number (another summer, sound of the funky drummer)?

Bad attitude?

"You're not a black man!"

"You're not an English man!"

"You're not a real man!"

Really?

And how would you all know?

For your information, I am a mixed race English man. It is not my problem that I don't fit in with your narrow-minded stereotypes, is it!

And another thing!

I did not get my hair done at the hairdressers (far too expensive!). I did not twirl it myself (I'm far too lazy for that!). Yes, that means my dread locks did grow naturally. I'm not style-conscious enough for it to be any other way.

Actually, I am conscious of style. I just don't care for being a follower of fashion and for people who don't know the difference!

It really does make me mad when...

More "Mierda de Toro"?

Well... okay, if you insist!

(How can a lil boy like me refuse the one and only Agent Bhangra!)

Watch this space! And if you really want more, you could always subscribe --->>>

What's that! What's that you say?

"cicha woda brzegi rwie :)"

Hey, is that really something you should be saying to me of all people?

(Wouldn't you have a crinkly face if I could actually read Polish?)

PS Did you like the answer to your problem, then? I brought out the big guns to solve it! ;-)
PPS It's mierda del toro, by the way! Isn't it?

Who am I talking about?

"She had the power of inspiring love, almost anywhere. Forget about making strong men weep. Seven-stone pacifists shouldered their way through street riots to be home in case she called. Family men abandoned sick children to wait in the rain outside her flat. Semi-literate builders and bankers sent her sonnet sequences. She pauperized gigolos, she spayed studs, she hospitalzed heartbreakers. They were never the same again, they lost their heads."

Are you a headless man, then. Do you recognise the woman?

Or, worse, do you have the power to behead?

So who am I talking about?
(See p21 of Marting Amis' London Fields to find out!)

More blimmin thoughts!

Change

"Why am I so happy to accept my exterior environment, so disinterested in changing it, yet I seem almost obsessed with needing to understand and to change (or improve) my interior environment?

"Wouldn't it be so much easier if it were the opposite? Then I could just subscribe to a monthly magazine called Home Improvements or something, and head off to B&Q on the weekend like so many other people seem to do week in, week out."

Random thought of the day

Don't you just hate it when this happens! You're minding your own business when, bam!, you find yourself tuned into someone else's thoughts, someone else's fears. It wouldn't be so bad if they were sexy thoughts, or sexy fears, but no! Instead...

"... I guess I have kept the drama alive over the years, so part of me could feed off the pain

"I've dallied with internet dating, for example, so I could be distracted (and have some excitement in my life) and so I could add to my complex layers of guilt (morning after the excitement before).

"Why do you I don't want to succeed?

"Why am I holding myself back?

"Why do I still believe that life is difficult, life is hard, when it's really as easy, easy, easy as you want it to be?

"So why do I want life to be hard?

"Why am I fascinated by my so-called nemesis? I am far more negative a force in my life than any imaginary foe, any queen bitch..."

Grim stuff, eh!

It gets even worse.

He starts reciting a blimmin poem! I'd click away now, if I were you. It's a shocker...

Poem 666
========

Queen Bitch
You aint seen
nothin Sis
For I'm the King,
the QB of this dome main

Where are you
first thing?

I... wake with Him;
taunt Him morning,
noon and night.
Make up stories, I do,
'bout You
Who you with, and
why - you're - not - thinking - of - Him

Your twisted and bitter
refrain?
Disdain!
I got fifty better
in my locker,
locked away

I delve deep
into HisStory
Play out his doomed
scenes once more,
(Just in case he forgets)

You help, oh yes
But you're just part of
an extensive 41-year
cast-list.
...Just a player
But *I* star,
in the mind of
my Master

I know my Man
I haunt and
I taunt,
like no-one else
can
*I'm* the Queen Bitch

I undermine
I talk back
I demean (LIKE A DAEMON!)

I reduce
I traduce

I keep him alive!
Just so I can do it
all over again

I'm the man,
the Pain Body man

At your service...

If you please...
(IF YOU DON'T PLEASE!)

I'm the devil,
if you will
His precious
3 letters
e.g. (?) Oh!

Or try this 4-letter word:
Fear

I know You too...

I know your curse...

(Charmed... I'll
be round Yours soon!)

:-O

Eating the monkey!

Actually that should be eating the frog!

(Eating the monkey is an altogether different experience, not without its own benefits.)

Basically, eating the frog is about doing the stuff you don't like and doing it first rather than last. Doing it first means it doesn't get to cast a murky shadow over the rest of the day as you worry about doing it later. Doing it first means it's done and you can now get onto doing the nice stuff, energised even, in some cases!)

Come to think of it, maybe eating the monkey is not that different to eating the frog. Eh, ladies? ;-)

Anyway, today I'm going to start eating the frog each and every day! Yum, yum in my tum!

Nemesis?

(1) Agent Bhangra

versus

Ego Vertigo?

(2) 'Visible, present and unable to go unnoticed' ?

(3) Ego against alter ego?

Who knows! I also do not have a clue! (Hee hee!)

I said 'God damn'!

...I'm the greatest

ego vertego

in the world,

baby!

Fun, anyone?

Tada!

Presenting...

The eight irresistible principles of fun!

(D'oh! Oh why oh why oh why have I resisted fun for so long!)

Tuning in to random thoughts!

"What an interesting (and nice woman) she is.

"So why are my thoughts straying to lascivious endeavours?"

I dunno either, dood. Can you keep yer blimmin thoughts to yerself, I'm trying to be a good guy! Ommmm!

Myspace or yours?

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Happy Birthday To Me!

I am one year old today!

Well the blog is.

Well, the birthday was yesterday actually.

Well, okay, Nov 21st to be precise!

Fictional Characters

Boring John is not real.

And if he sounds like a person you know, then you are mistaken.

As it says in the movies:

• "All references in [this blog] are purely fictional and any resemblance to persons or places, actual or fictional, is purely accidental"

Just so's you know!

What's Wrong With Mr Anonymous?

Mr Anonymous Says...

You know that man that looked at you nicely the other day; your favourite lover, with that glint in his eye; your loving husband; that man you really thought it would work out with, but it didn't; that great male friend of yours; HIM!

Let's call HIM Mr Anonymous.

Well he has something to say to you, Mr Anonymous, are you listening?

He tells me that he loves you, cherishes you; respects you too, finds you sexy - that way that you do that thing. I know you don't believe him, but it's true.

You inspire him.

You inspire him to be stronger, more reliable; more committed to his life, his loves, his friends.

You inspire him to earn more, to care more and show respect; to communicate.

You inspire him to listen, to learn, to laugh and to trust. And he's never had as much fun as when you and he, y'know, squealed and squealed that day.

Thanks to you he loves to flaunt his smiling eyes and show off his body - the firm bits as well as the soft bits.

You inspire him to share. You matter. To him. It's true!

You always have mattered, despite those troubled days, those lows, caused by unending argument; the ugly frowns, the sulky sighs.

He will never forget. You.

Make sure you keep on believing in him. Because he is out there, he really is.

He is not a perfect man (looking for a perfect woman) and he is not always that easy to understand, to read; but he is a real man, like you are a real woman.

A real person.

Mr Anonymous, Mr Real, he says 'hello!'. And he thanks you for remembering, if only for a moment; whichever moment you choose.

So who, again, is Mr A?

Well, he might be the first man you thought of as you read this. Or maybe he's the last person in the world you'd imagine him to be. Maybe you have yet to meet him; he may be waiting to bump into you on the street, right now.

Mr Anonymous is whoever you want him to be.

He's real.

He exists.

He says 'hello'.

Bad Science (continued...)

Homeopathy

Dismissed as bad science by those conditioned to think classically about stuff, homeopathy is loved by those that have experienced the medical benefits.

So I like to think that homeopathy is just science you don't understand (I'm talking to the doubters now, the "show me the proof"-ers). Or, the science of placebo. (We foolishly underestimate the power and potential of our minds. And this is the clever-clogs 21st century, too!)

And I have no problem believing that homeopathy works. Even if it doesn't. Even if it's just a powerful form of auto-suggestion. After all, what matters most is that people get better -- whatever reason you wish to attribute to this success is up to you -- not that homeopathy can be proven to work in laboratory tests.

Or is methodology really that much more important than results?

(I once told a science-loving friend that I was going to write a book called Science is Not My GOD. You know, I don't think he even registered what I was trying to say.

Obviously, I am more than happy with obeying the laws of physics (though I do occasionally fly home from work if the traffic is a bit thick) but that does not mean I am an unquestioning slave to the logic, reasoning and dismissal of anything that cannot be proved that is science. Talk to a Christian about the Bible and you will find an equally rigid response to any questioning of the meanings that they take from The Good Book.

The fact that I can lump both these groups together is actually quite ironic - they tend not to have much overlap, see! Or is that moronic? So hard to tell these days. Let me do some tests...)

Hello Empty Heads!

Are you an Empty Head?

Please read this to see if you qualify!

"If you are a member of the "if you haven't done anything wrong, what have you got to fear" brigade you probably haven't thought about the issues very hard. It's as simple as that.When you regurgitate such empty-headed nonsense you reveal not just your lack of thought but your lack of awareness of history and your lack of imagination.You are to be pitied.If, on the other hand, you HAVE thought about it then what you are in favour of is totalitarianism.You are to be feared."
Source: BBC Website forum

So, are you?

I couldn't have put it better myself, by the way!

"if you haven't done anything wrong, what have you got to fear"

If you believe in this stock response to the Government's ever-increasing desire to accumulate information about everyone, anything and everything, then I have one question:

do you know what civil liberties are?

Then why are you so happy to throw them away?

I do not trust this government (or any for that matter) to use this information properly.

I value my privacy and I wish you did.

But most of all, I wish people (like you?) would simply think before opening their empty-headed mouths!

(That's better.)

Jokes

Welcome to my jokes page

Or rather my rant about jokes page. Rant? Yes, jokes are not funny and I don't understand why people think that they are.

Example joke!

A bloke walks into a pub and sees Van Gogh standing at the bar.
"Hi Van, can I get you a drink?"
"No thanks, I got one ear."

See! Bloody not funny.

I watched that Peter Kay live once. Very funny man. Part of his very funny routine - "gar-lic bread!" - was telling a couple of jokes.

Yes, we laughed, cos his jokes were crap. If he'd have stood up there and told a load of jokes I'd have left straight away. I'd have heckled first, obviously, with the witty and un-putdownable

"Gerrof! You're rubbish"

But then I'd have left.

He didn't do that, because...

Jokes -- are -- not - funny!

Period.

You know different?

Okay, please do send me your funny jokes to prove me wrong. Here's my email address

NotOnYourNelly@JokesAreNOTFunnyHoney.com

:-)

(In American speak, that's equivalent to.... NOT!)

Jokes
are
not
funny

Not blonde jokes.

Not text message jokes

Not even jokes that are funny.

Life is funny.

A story well told is funny.

Exploding conkers is funny.

Loads of things are funny.

But not freakin jokes.

Allright!

Are we clear! Here!

Now move along. And if you want to break out into a Monty Python Funny Walk that's fine. If you want to say "Bob" with a particular emphasis on the b (a la Blackadder) that's fine. If just you just wanna say "D'oh!" then that's fine, too. But no jokes. They're not funny. Okay?

:-)

Don't you just love it when this happens

37) They laughed at me when I told them that The Simpsons were not a disfunctional family.

(If the clever bods at The Observer agree with me, then that's good enough for me.

• 37) Those critics who got it wrong at the start by billing the Simpsons as 'America's most dysfunctional family.' It's now clear that Homer almost always ends up doing the right thing; it is, it could be argued, one of the most moral shows on television today. According to Archbishop of Canterbury Dr Rowan Williams: 'It's one of the most subtle pieces of propaganda around in the cause of sense, humility and virtue.'

YES!

And bloody Aled Jones did not sing Walking In The Air in the film The Snowman, but he did have a top 10 hit with it.)

Bonkers Conkers!

Please don't, laugh too much!

Someone I know very well tells me he had a bit of a shocking kitchen experience, today. He tells me... well this is what he said:

"Please don't laugh too much!

"I'm not sure what you're meant to do with conkers (horse chestnuts) but I tried to [bake] them in my oven just now and - twenty minutes later - several exploded when I brought them out of the oven.

"Chestnut mess everywhere, I can tell you!

"And a non-Superman-like somewhat shell-shocked me trying to move the remaining potential bombs to a safer place.

"Ea-sy!

"Is this normal?"

Tee hee hee!

(Apparently you're suppose to roast chestnuts, not bake them, and only once you've pricked their shell. They don't do ovens very well, it seems. Get a bit antsy, they do, often leading to somewhat explosive behaviour!)

Who Lives Here?

Who would want to live here?



Or here, where there are few, if any, people of different nationalities living?



Or here, where the trees replace the people and there's wide open spaces rather than narrow streets filled with stalls, and shops and great places to eat, sleep and laugh?



Erm, I would!

How do you let a boy down, gently!

A boy I know, I won't say who - anonymity is the theme for today (you see!) - has very recently been trying to 'get some' with a woman he blew out a few months ago. (By the way, when he says 'blew out' he means 'got bored with waiting for her to be available' after a promising first 'hot kissing in the car park after' date and a 'limpish, hmm limpish' follow up a few days later.)

Now he may be a boy, but he's certainly a man when it comes to being affilicted by not being ruled by the head, sometimes. Naturally he only tells me this after a few beers, a bottle of whisky and we're started on the vodka. In these days of equality (?), he confesses that he has sometimes not even been ruled by his heart. (Shame on him.)

[This was meant to be a short and punchy piece about 'how you dump someone', not a load of guff about hearts and heads. Just use the word, man - he's ruled by his dick! Ed]

As I was saying, ahem!, he wasn't that into her (and he knew *he* wasn't really her type, either) but he really did want to kiss her again. So he signed up to the dating sites where they met (he'd deleted her numbers and emails ages back, right!) and cut to the chase...

Internet dating messages...

then Windows Messenger...

and then, finally, an email.

(Not too clever my friend, as if he could contact her via IM then he had her email address and he really didn't need to open up the Pandoras Box* that is Soulmates. "D'oh!" as his favourite TV character would say.)

Now it could have gone several ways, so he tells me, but it didn't! See below. But it got me thinking, in these days of almost unlimited choice when it comes to dating, how do you actually go about telling someone that isn't quite what you want that he (or she) is not quite what you want!

Obviously, silence and ignoring them works. Always has done, and always will. But that is not my style - it's shabby, it's cowardly, it's weak. It's also not the style of my friend, either - the *he* that I'm referring to.

Apparently if you just come on all strong, emotionally and everything, and tell the woman how much you love her, and need her, and can't wait to see her again and you also ask about 'Dave', her friend, and ask who he is, and wonder why she likes going for a lunchtime drink with him, and get all sulky about it when she won't stop having a lunchtime drink with him - that works too!

Takes far too long, though, eh!

Or...

you could try these lines:

"I am flattered by your interest in me! You are a lovely, charming and funny guy...great company. But....that is it. Sorry!"

"Masterful. Women. The great communicators."

That's what my friend said to me just moments ago. And you know what, today, I have to agree with him.

(*) I meant this

British Bloggers, Unite!

If you're reading this before Dec. 9th, 2006 then you may well not be wasting your time, particularly if you're a blogger and you live in Britian. Why so? Well, that's the date that many bloggers will be meeting in London (perhaps Covent Garden). Click here for details! Oh, I mean here

If you're reading this after Dec. 9th, 2006. I have a question for you:

Why?

(Are you expecting some kind of killer punchline! Tch, tch! You really should know better by now! ;-) )

More mythical creatures

- http://www.TheMythsMovie.com

Your Idea Of Fun?

I asked a woman friend of mine (in search of a husband) who I should be on the lookout for whilst out in a bar, and this is her text message response:

sexy, nice cook, nice to women, & goes like a train ha ha ha ;-) internet marketers preferred!!! Gsoh and likes fluffy bunnies

Whaddya think?

Does this kinda man exist?

Or are we back to Prince Charming Theories again?

Today is Saturday...

don't you know!

What Do I know About... Rape

What do I know about rape?

Very little.

I'm a male and males don't tend to get raped they tend to do the raping! (Hmm, obviously I am not a rapist and I abhor rape.)

One thing I do know a little bit about is the perception of rape. I think a lot of men think that rape is much less prevalent than the 'figures suggest' and a lot of women think it is much, much more prevalent than the suggested figures. I'm in the second camp, here.

Rape is quite often the case of one person's word against another and is therefore very difficult to prove. It doesn't mean that no rape occurred, though. (Nor does it mean that no 'false claim' was made, either. Read on.)

That's why it annoys me when false claims of rape get so much prevalence in the news (see this Judge jails 'wicked liar' article in The Guardian, for an example). What we have here is evidence that women do occasionally make up false rape claims, but it's not countered by the fact (I say fact loosely, obviously, as we're in the land of perception, here!) that men rape women an awful lot more times than women make up false claims about rape.

We rarely see reports of rape convictions, but the convictions of 'false rape claims' make headline news.

This uneven reporting, to me, simply confirms the fact (to many, especially me) that most rape either doesn't really happen or it isn't really rape. (Not really rape? That's something else I know little about other than men and women seem to have very different views on what rape actually is.)

If it frustrates me, how must women whose lives are affected by it, feel?

What do I know?

Nothing. Much.

I am still here!

...in case you were wondering!

(But now I have gone!)

"Stay hungry! Stay foolish"

[and] don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice"

I hear ya, Steve! I hear ya!

My World...

My world is going to get organised, very soon. I'm going to be able to label my sometimes-daily thoughts depending on what I happen to be talking about. Some suggested labels may already be coming to your mind, perhaps

Tosh
More Tosh, and
Tosh, Tosh, Lots of Tosh

I think I know what you *mean* and will perhaps come up with categories a little more meaningful to everyone else. What do you say! How about...

Love
Feelings, and
Sex

Watch this space!

Riddler?

"There are 3 woman. A blonde. A brunette. and a red head. Which do i
choose and why is that a good decision? P.S.which one will get me some."

As my good ol' friend Ego Fatigo would say...

"To see your drama clearly is to be liberated from it."

He also said: "Tch! What a plonker!"