Thursday, 30 April 2009

Bootube!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O2ayBG1uBHQ&

I havnt uploaded many vids for youtube, and none of them have recieved particularly large figures. So the other day i was very surprised to find that the least popular one which only has 231 view was nor working due “copyright infringement” I was shocked. This was a video that i made with a friend with the camera on my phone to plug an event as a joke.

“copyright? I thought “ What the hell is there about this rediculose video that has broken copyright”

As it happened, i had used Charles Mingus’s “Eat that Chicken” in the last minute of the track, and that was what the problem was.

So it would seem that out of the 231 viewers of possibly one of the worst vids on youtube, one person not only managed to get to the end of the vid, but also complained about the legality of the music i used for the last minute! What are the odds.

Sunday, 19 April 2009

Redge

So i've had this story on my PC for a couple of years now and I figured a fast paced dialogue would be a nice juxtaposition against the first story, which was almost all filled with discription of action.


RICH: Where is it?
BARRY: What
RICH: The cheese.
BARRY: What cheese?
RICH: The wheel of stilton
BARRY: What wheel of stilton?
RICH: The wheel of stilton I bought 6 weeks ago
BARRY: What?
RICH: The wheel of stilton I bought 6 weeks ago and have been saving until my special bottle of Tokay arrived.
BARRY: err
RICH: I’ve been talking about it since Christmas, I finally find one of the most expensive and rare stilton’s in the U.K. and to make the most out of it I ordered a bottle of very special Hungarian tokay over the internet so I could sit down, after a day working at phones for you..
BARRY: Phones 4 u for less chica chica chica fones 4 u
RICH: Will you shut up, where the hells my stilton, my wine came in this morning and I told you that I was going to drink it with the stilton after work on my way out. Where’s my stilton???
BARRY: Your stilton?
RICH: YES!
BARRY: Oh that was your stilton?... Well there’s a short version and a long version
RICH: What’s the short version, coz I swear if…
BARRY: Whoa whoa whoa, who said any things happened to it? Right I’m just going to put the kettle on, do you want a cup…
RICH: BARRY, my stilton
BARRY: Ok, so just after you left I got a call from work saying that I was fired for shitting in the urinals, yeah well needless to say I was bummed
RICH: You got bummed, what by a bloke?
BARRY: No I was bummed, bummed out, annoyed
RICH: right, sorry for the homo mix up
BARRY: so I rang up Redge, to go for a couple of drinks
RICH: Redge? Crazy Redge? Crazy drunken Redge?
BARRY: Yeah
RICH: What time was this?
BARRY: 8.45
RICH: In the morning?
BARRY: I WAS BUMMED, so we went for a couple and well, Redge drank a pint of vodka and pissed himself
RICH: Jesus, how longs this going to take, where’s my cheese
BARRY: I’m getting to that, Redge pissed himself
RICH: right I’m gonna sit down… who the hells that?
BARRY: Who
RICH: Under the sheet on the sofa.
BARRY: Redge, who dya think
RICH: You let the drunken crazy man piss all over the sofa in our living room
BARRY: Nope
RICH: good
BARRY: I let the drunken crazy man piss all over your bed!
RICH: What!?
BARRY: Just messing
RICH: Is he wearing my clothes?
BARRY: yeah well I couldn’t have him walking round the house in his piss rags
RICH: What’s wrong with your clothes!
BARRY: There at the cleaners
RICH: Right. Sod it! The cheese!!!???
BARRY: Oh yeah, so Redge had pissed himself and I put him in the shower and then in to your clothes and
RICH: What’s that smell? Smells like piss and shit all in a mouldy marmite jar
BARRY: Well its not me, and its not Redge coz I showered him and put him in your clothes
RICH: Well it’s coming from the sofa. What’s he been doing under the sheet
BARRY: Nah won’t be Redge he’s clean
RICH: I don’t believe it he’s in my sodding clothes and he’s pissed and shit himself
BARRY: Accident?
RICH: Cheers Barry, you’re a real mate… I don’t believe it
BARRY: Sure you don’t want that tea?
RICH: No BARRY, just tell me where the FUCKING CHEESE IS!
BARRY: Well Redge got out of the shower and into your clothes and some how it happened, I don’t really know how, but…
RICH: what happened, what did he do with my cheese?!
BARRY: oh no not your cheese, it happened so quickly it’s hard to say
RICH: WHAT. HAPPENED. BARRY?!
BARRY: Well, he got something jammed up his arse.
RICH: WHAT!
BARRY: Yeah I know impressive for someone who’s paraplegic
RICH: Paralytic Barry, not the point, how did he do that when he was wearing my trousers?
BARRY: I guess he cut a hole in the arse area…
RICH: Cut a hole in the arse area. Oh great Barry just great. So you’re telling me that I now have a pair of trousers covered in shite with a hole in the arse? Well at least now I’ve got easy access and an inviting smell if I ever go to a GAY GANGBANG! Or I could just bring Redge along, give him a yard of petrol and hire him out as a kinky rent boy all night!
BARRY: I think that’s illegal mate
RICH: I KNOW IT’S FUCKING ILLEAGLE. Sod it sod it sod it sod it. Bollocks, where’s my cheese???
BARRY: I’m getting there, you are impatient today
RICH: Barry, I’m really pissed off, what happened to the stilton
BARRY: So Redge is unconscious and got this thing lodged up his shitter and I says to myself- what should I do now, I tried tugging at the thing but I just couldn’t get it out. So I thought I know I’ll call a taxi and get him to get fixed up at the hospital
RICH: and
BARRY: well I called the cab, and I thought id just have a quick game playing with the Wii to get a new high score on bowling. I tell you what mate you’ve got some catching up to do I laid down 3 strikes in a row, then a spare. Only to lose out on the 7 -10 split, but I just managed to pull it back
RICH: BARRY would you get the hell on and finish the story
BARRY: Jesus keep your shit stained trousers on… too soon for jokes? Right well I sort of got lost in the game and forgot time and ended up playing for about 2 hours and the taxi never came, and then I realised I told the wrong address.
RICH: What???
BARRY: Yeah told them my address at my place last year
RICH: The cheese Barry
BARRY: so I rang back and he eventually came and then I didn’t have any cash, so he wouldn’t take us
RICH: So what did you do?
BARRY: I paid him in cheese
RICH: YOU gave a taxi drive my most prized food for a trip to the hospital which you could have got an ambulance to take you for free.
BARRY: nope
RICH: WHAT
BARRY: He didn’t take us in the end
RICH: you mean he wouldn’t accept the cheese as payment, well there’s a surprise
BARRY: oh no he took the cheese and fucking sped off
RICH: Barry… there had… I’m going to kill you
BARRY: wait wait wait, there’s a happy ending to all this, trust me
RICH: fine
BARRY: so I took Redge inside and put I’m on the sofa and what should fall out of his pocket, a half full bottle of Jack
RICH: I don’t understand, you get a half empty bottle
BARRY: half full, such a pessimist you are
RICH: what ever, bottle of jack and then what
BARRY: I drunk it, and fell asleep, all that Wii bowling had tired me out
RICH: OK so then what
BARRY: you came in and started asking about cheese
RICH: HOW is that a happy ending?
BARRY: Happy for me I got half a bottle of jack in me and a good kip after a crummy day
RICH: Right that’s it. I want a new flat mate.
BARRY: Come on
RICH: I’m fucking serious, you don’t do fuck al around here and then shit like this happens
BARRY: I’ve had a bad day too you know, I got the sack, you miserable git
RICH: From a job where you were shitting in the urinals
BARRY: Everybody does it!
RICH: You were the janitor!
BARRY: Well fuck it; I can see you don’t understand my art
RICH: I’m sorry mate, just been a tough day, was really looking forward to the wine and stilton
BARRY: Yeah, sorry to, didn’t mean to unno…
RICH: But that’s alright, the wines arrived I just have to drink it with out the cheese. Where is it by the way?
BARRY: well you know how Redge got that thing lodged in his arse…

Mafairs New Duke

"I grew up on the out skirts of north London and that’s where I was born. I played a lot of rugby, not as part of the school curriculum but in my local community. We once played another team and some members of their scrum took a lot of offence to me, and they kept tackling me, and even beat me up off the field. They kept harassing me in my in my local community, so certain members of my family thought it would be better for me to live with some relatives who resided in Mayfair.

It came to moving day, and I had to get a Black Cab, but there was only which was free and its registration was CL38N, but my parents had already given me the taxi fair, so I thought no more of it and asked to be taken to Mayfair.

I quite enjoyed my trip in the taxi, even though the traffic was bad and it took longer than expected, which is why we arrived at dinner time and not before. I told the driver that I hoped to see him again. As I starred at the Acre of land, I realised my journey was over and it was now time for me to take my pew as the duke of Mayfair."

"Robin, what the fuck?"

I thought I might be at a lose end when I title my 4th blog before actually having any idea on what it was going to be about. Then I looked back at some of the stupid suggestions I’ve heard over the last few years.

Pause, think about it (but mainly, stay with it coz while the point may not be worth the text, it might give you a little insight)

Batman+ Robin. There is so many episodes in the old series that in the first take Batman must have been thinking, “really?”:

Batman: [reading a riddle] What has yellow skin and writes?
Robin: A ball-point banana!
Batman: [reads the second riddle] What people are always in a hurry?
Robin: Rushing people... Russians!
Batman: So this means...
Robin: Someone Russian is going to slip on a banana and break their neck!

I would have shot Robin… a lot.

I have known a lot of “Robins” with terrible suggestions and ideas, but, that said (and I don’t want this to sound too “Jerry’s final thought-ey”) even if Robin is a complete tool, he’s trying to help. It’s ultimately us who makes the decision. I’m defiantly a “Robin” a lot of the time, after all, I’m the one asking

“Where to Batman?”

Wednesday, 15 April 2009

3 part poem post

They say home is where the heart is, but where the fuck’s that
Coz I cant use my legs, when I have this monkey on my back

So I need to kick some habits, and I need to pick some up
I need to earn some money, but I’m having no luck

If these problems are animal, we need to go to the zoo
If I find what I need I’ll bid this monkey adieu.

4 storey steal

"YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR THAT YOU THIEving cun..."

The ice cream man's voice trailed off around the corner as the skinny man turned and then jumped over a fence. Closely behind him, with fury in his eyes, the tall man gave chase. The skinny man was carrying a small pouch in one hand, and the remains of a 99 in the other, realising this he shook out the messy contents and smeared the rest on a lamp post as he used it to turn. Dumb luck struck that day when the tall man tried to use the same spot on the lamp post to pivot, and in slipping, threw himself into a parked VW Beatle.

The day was hot, the street was a playground, the chase continued.

Vaulting and dodging children, the skinny man progressed towards a junction. He was tiring. He had no plan to turn down either end of the T but to find refuge in the building at the end. Crossing through traffic, his entrance was masked by the No.14 enroot to Golders green.

With enormous velocity the tall man pushed his way down the street, kicking the football in his path over the telegraph poles, flattening a toddler and then parting a red sea. The children, once dazed and amazed by the skinny man, were now terrified of the tall, hugged the sides of cars until the tall man had passed.

As he looked out down the roads of the junction, the tall man took a deep breath and sighed, but as he lifted his head he saw a familiar shirt sleeve through closing lift doors. Weaving through cars he sped into the building, he gave chase up the stairs in the hope to catch the button on the first floor. No luck, the lift was continuing to the second. He tried again, charging up another 28 stairs, he went to hit the panel and missed by seconds. Pounding the elevator shaft with his fists he ran towards the next set of stairs towards the top floor.

Half way up he was halted by a group of adolescents who almost wet themselves when the tall man yelled "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY OR I'LL CUT YOUR DICKS OFF". Obliging and recoiling in fear they moved out of his way whilst at all times trying not to lose face.

The skinny man heard the shouting as he exited the lift and panicking went for the stairs to the roof. As soon as he got to the top he knew he had made a mistake, the only way out was towards the tall man. He looked around the top and seeing only air vents wondered if he was thin enough to fit in them, but it was too late. The door swung open with a bang. The tall man was sweaty, but not tired. This was it.

"You're out of options friend, no where to run"
The tall man strode towards the skinny. The skinny man backed off, edging his way closer and closer toward the drop. The tall man smirked as he stretched out his hand...
"Tag. You're it"

Tuesday, 7 April 2009

Where to Batman?

When we ran out of things to do, my friend Joe always used to say "where to Batman?" and now im in a job known as "Lego Man" by a man obsessed with Batman. It's an odd train of thought to get to a blogg title, but as "which way next" was taken I went back to my year 6 snes days, and here we are...

Where to Batman?

no, really, where to?

I once literally looked for Jesus under a sofa, he wasn't there, but hide and seek is a bit unfair when you've had over 2000 years of practice...

I could list the 10000 reasons why I've started this blog, at 1.30am on a UK Wednesday morning, but where would the fun in Lost be if they told you about the polar bears in the first episode?

So here it is, blog blog blog.

Reading this back, its a very stereotypical first post- "this is my first post and why" blog blog blog, bla bla bla. Crikey. So lets start on post 4, or, at least a prediction on post 4. "Robin, what the fuck?" indeed.

Like a lot of pilots, I'll set up the characters and some grounding, but not actually tell much story.

Me- I'm Tim, I'm 22, and I have a Job, which i guess makes me in uncool crowd.
My friends- need to smile at some tragedies, and frown at some romances.
My life -relative, i guess not bad.

So there it is- next time, a story, the time after a poem, and then hey, Robin, what the fuck?

but for now, Where to Batman?