Friday, August 15, 2014


Douchebaggery, douchebaggery.
What is that, exacerry?
'Tis said to be like dickery,
But the shitte isn't as stickery.

Wednesday, October 09, 2013

From the Urinal

Oh spiky little piss mat, on which I have to pee,
You have not been placed there for the benefit of me.
Though your citrus fragrance wafts afar, and orange hue distracting
It's the leavers of the gum, and their leavings you are catching.

The urinal is just for urine, that's not good enough for some.
They like to leave the pubic hair, the naval lint and gum.
The cleaners have had enough, they're putting up a fight
Orange spiky little piss mat, stop gum with all your might.

It could be worse, you could suppose,
you might be a ping pong ball.
Dropped into the toilet bowl,
for those with no aim at all.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

It's Seanies Show

Last night I dreamt I paid $400 for two tickets to see Shaun Micallef in concert.  He was pretty chuffed.  He said so himself, in the dream, about an hour before the concert was due to start.  He also dropped a hint that when the concert finishes, he invites half the audience to stick around for more, and the rest go home.

I was travelling in Europe with my fiancée.  We were back packing; this is, we were staying in hostels.  That's a bit unusual for me now.  Whilst back packing is fine (because I'd rather carry my stuff on my back, than wheel it around in a suit case), I'm well over putting up with share accommodation, and the whispers and moans heard in the neighbouring beds and rooms.

We also met David Boreanaz while we were travelling, and some Australian feral who wanted to be our best friend.  Whilst I was initially suspicious of both for wanting to steal our stuff, David turned out to be alright, and just a bit lonely in his travels, and the feral was right gob shite and I ended up telling him to piss off, and that it wasn't polite to stand on someone elses pillow.

At last, a normal dream! And no mice!

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Mouse in the House

The dreams have started again.  And they're waking dreams.  That is, I'm awake, I'm seeing things, and on causal inspection, I can't tell if what I'm seeing is real or not.


We, that is, my fiancée and I had a mouse experience a couple of weeks ago.  Two mice having a feed in our cockatiels' provisions draw.  Our fault, really.  We didn't seal the packet after opening it.

We spent that night sleeping in the spare room, with towels blocking the doorways.  The other half has an irrational fear of mice.

A purchase of some catch and release traps, and a day later, we catch them, and a four others under the house.  It's an open area, under the house, and we have some crap down there that mice would live.  A couple of old couches, and old cardboard.  Not surprising really.

Mid week, 5 more mice from downstairs, but none upstairs.  Awesome.

Then the dreams start.  I wake up, and there's a mouse on the pillow. It's actually between the pillows.  And there's one on the blinds, and another on a picture frame on the other side of the room.  And a whole writhing swarm coming out of the light socket.  By the time I can turn my side lamp on, they're all gone. I must have been imagining it, because mice ain't going to be crawling out of that light socket.

The next night, similar thing.  A single mouse on the pillow again.  This time there's a reflection coming from its eyes.  Beady little mouse eye reflection, bright and grey.  I put it down to imagination, and go back to sleep.  Then there's a thump on the bed.  A small impact.  A mouse sized impact from the mouse sized jump.  I know those fuckers can jump; I've seen them move when I release them a few miles down the road, at a park.  This one has my attention.  I sit up. It's scurrying up the blinds, and across the top.  Nothing I can do, go back to sleep.

Then the next night.  Same again.  This time a rat has joined the crew, and walks across one of the photo frames on the wall.  I know it's too heavy for the frame, but the mouse between the pillows looks real enough.  Back to sleep.  Then I wake.  There's a mouse in my pillow.  It's under where my mouth is resting.  It's squashed, yet still wriggling.  I can taste the blood and piss of it, in my mouth.  Disgusting, and I've had enough.

I go out to the living room, and grab the trap that's under the cockatiels cage, and put it under my bed side table draw.  If they are in the bedroom, then they're sure to go for the half eaten seed stick that is in there.

Last night.  Fitful sleep. No mice.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Let me count the ways

J: Hey, guys, I got an announcement. 

All: Hi J!

J: In the next couple of days, I'm going to get taken away, beaten, tortured and crucified.

All: Oh noes!

J: But don't fret.  I'm gonna be up and about, about 3 days after I'm burried.

All: Yay!

T: But how will we know it's you?

J: Let me count the ways...

OpenId, Facebook, Yahoo!, Google, Blogger, Gravatar, Digg, MySpace, MSN Passport (or is it Windows Live), YouTube and Buzz!

P: What about Twitter?

J: Damn.  I knew I forgot something.  It's just never really grabbed me as something I want to sign up to.  I guess it could be handy if I wanted to follow someone else, but I've never really had something to say that could fit into just 140 characters.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

What It Takes

Having played French Horn in high school, I'm quite aware of the tenderness that your lips can go through when learning the correct embouchure. And having tried to play my brothers trumpet, at the time, I'm also aware of the stretch that can happen to your cheeks when you get tired and the back pressure is too much.

I've never played a reed instrument, but I have heard that it is important too keep the read moist, for best effect.

However, in all my years of passing wind, it has never occurred to me, what it takes to be Mr. Methane.

Mind you, it's not a passing thought I'll be investigating anytime soon.

Friday, May 21, 2010

On wiping

Recently, we've had a case of the toilet light (at work) causing an overload of the circuit and all the lights in the office to go out.

S:"How do you see where you're wiping?"

R:"I don't know about you, but it's an act of faith of me."

R:"Periscope down."