Crunchy Crunchy Bunny.
Cunningly hidden white text!
So the Whorehopper and the Gimp thang hasn't happened. Probably won't, since none of you can be arsed to send in stories. And I sure as hell ain't gonna write any.
To gimp@whorehopper.fsnet.co.uk if you please
So I saw American Beauty today (Saturday). Totally sweet film. One of those ones where you walk out feeling all motivated and speeded up and junk. I walked round the city centre for ten minutes after it finished just looking at the way peoples' hair flowed when they turned their heads. Of course, that could have just been 'cos I hadn't had any breakfast... Anyway, on the bus to the comic shop I was having all these funky thoughts about how I hate having regrets about not doing stuff. In the film, for those of you who haven't seen it, that's pretty much the story. Kevin Spacy's character goes nuts when he realises his life's total shit. And he makes it better. So anyway, I'm having these funky thoughts as I watch people's hair and everyone walks like they're underwater. And I'm thinking I hate having regrets and I'm gonna do stuff about all the stuff I want to do / wanted to do long ago / want to do in the future. And I've just had a shower and shaved so I'm feeling fine and thinking I look fine which is a pretty rare feeling... should probably wash more often ^_^
Let's leave that all unresolved like ^_^
Anyway, last summer when I was pissing around doing that Prince's Trust thang, there was this thing they talked about "comfort zones" and junk. Basically how it's like you have this bubble around you and the further you stretch away from and out of it the less comfortable you feel. But that the more you stretch away the more you can achieve / accomplish. You know what I mean. So I never leave the centre of this bubble 'cos it's all cosy like. But at the same time I'm, like, slowly killing myself - my mind's kinda atrophying. So I should probably leave.
Like a tree no less.
On to lighter news. That picture I sent out a few days ago has produced a lot of responses. Okay, most of them have been "What the fuck is it even meant to be?" and even one "Don't ever send me this stuff ever again!"... But at least they're responses!
So I'm an attention seeking bastard! So sue me!
Kabuki #9 is finally out. For those of you who don't explode. Only 10 months late. I'll bring it on Monday and who asks first can borrow it. Ditto on The Dirty Pair: RFTF #3.
These are comics, for those who don't know.
Why only the one mass e-mail this week? Well, I've taken some of my own advice. It annoys me greatily when people take forever to tell a simple story because they insist on telling it in the wrong order / give too much detail / repeat themselves repetitively / repeat themselves repetitively / repeat themselves repetitively... So my advice to he afflicted with this affliction was "Condenserise, man!" And that is what I have done. Squeezed all those random thoughts I used to subject you to over three or four e-mails into one easily-deletable one. Ain't I just too kind?
No. I'm actually just a lazy arse.
Where is my mind? There! Where? There on the stair, a little mouse with clogs on... Give me back my clogs you stupid mouse! No! Guh? Thas right! I talk! Ya gotta problem wit that, bub? No, no sir, Mr Mouse sir, sorry for interrupting you. Thas alright, I was getting kinda lonely anyway. Come here boy. What? No! Get away from me! Aargh! Heh heh heh. I is a big mouse...
A little kick-back to olden times writings from me.
The Pixies. Death to the Pixies. Where Is My Mind? Damn sweet song.
If you don't have it go napsterise it now!
Do any of you even go to www.megasad.freeserve.co.uk? If you don't, please do. Even if it is just to listen to the damn fine opening sound. Which you can't hear if you're using Netscape. Or if you don't have any speakers. If either of those is true then you just a fool! A damn pitiful fool! You akin to leghaired girlz!!! Sort it out, ya hear? If you don't Ah shall be forced to put On mah most Suthun Amerikan Aksent. And you dinnae want that. Ho no.
I do talk like this in real life! Ho yes...
The puppet is back under control, so if any of you were worried about that don't be. To be totally and utterly truthful it's just that I can't think of anything to do with the story. When I do he'll probably be back. If you know what I mean. And I'm sure that you read Rankin.
Robert. He of The Sprouts of Wrath / Raiders of the Lost Carpark etc. fame.
Feck, that's 'nuff for this week. I keep writing and I'll just deteriorate into even more dialects(ish).
If any of you found these hidden messages please let me know. Else they will have been muy pointless.
Later,
Caleb
BWA HA HA HA HAAAAA!!! I IS NOT UNDER CONTROL! HO NO! I IS JUST GETTING STARTED!
PS - I is the original rewd boy. Drinkwater may think his e-mail is nice and toasty but he be way wrong. You gonna smoke like a turnip boy.
Conditioner rewls! It makes hair go all nice and smooth and makes it smell nice for days! All hail conditioner!!!