Trying to write whilst listening to Bill Hicks is not an easy thing to do. I should probably stick some tunes on. But the laughter is fun, so he can stay in Arizona Bay.

Had a bitch of a dream today. A bitch in the bad way. It was another of those ones where I get to fly. And, you know, they're usually good. Because I'll be just going about my business, in school or town or whatever, and then I'll suddenly be flying. And it's as if I've always known how. And sometimes I forget for a bit, plummet earthwards, but then I remember and all is well.
    But today was different. Because instead of knowing how to fly, I LEARNT how to fly. I started the dream as a normal person. And as it progressed I just kinda learnt how to fly. Nothing dramatic. I was walking one moment, then hovering above the ground the next. And all I had to do was try a bit harder and I'd get higher and higher. And no-one seemed to really notice to my face, but I could hear them all behind me. I'm getting sidetracked.
    I learnt how to fly. And I got higher and higher, could control it with greater finesse, could go anywhere. And then I woke up and my body weighed far too much. I stood in front of the mirror, trying to fly. Because I could remember how. I KNEW how to fly. But it didn't work.
    Which kind of put a damper on things.

Hoo-hah.

So anyway.

Bought me a couple good books, borrowed a whole load more, plus some Hicks on CD and video.

Actually bothered to find some literature about what it is that I intend to spend three years of my life studying. It looks good.

And I can use the Internet for free, at the library.

Now for something to make you laugh. Which you WON'T have read before. Unless you're Jenny. Or someone else who's received it. Or the actual person who wrote it. Or that complete fuck-head who keeps intercepting my e-mails, vetting them for sanity, holding them for several days, and then, if he feels like it, sending them on to the people who it was originally intended for, though usually just stops anyone reading them. You know who you are! Stop it, already! Goddamn government spies keeping track of every word I write... go get a proper job! Er... so, if you're that person you've probably read it already whilst spying on some other hapless individual. Whatever.

~

This is for all of you out there who are suffering from bad cases of extreme chainmail-itus.AAGH!

Hello, my name is Basmati Kasaar. I am suffering from rare and deadly diseases, poor scores on final exams, extreme virginity, fear of being kidnapped and executed by anal electrocution, and guilt for not Forwarding out 50 billion bloody chain letters sent to me by people who actually believe that if you send them on, then that poor 6 year old girl in Arkansas with a breast on her forehead will be able to raise enough money to have it removed before her redneck parents sell her off to the traveling freak show.

Do you honestly believe that Bill Gates is going to give you and everyone you send his email to $1000? How stupid are you? Ooooh, looky here! If I scroll down this page and make a wish, I'll get laid by every Playboy Bunny in the magazine! What a load of bull. So basically, this message is a big SOD YOU to all the people out there who have nothing better to do than to send me stupid chain mail forwards. Maybe the evil chain letter leprechauns will come into my apartment and sodomize me in my sleep for not continuing the chain which was started by Jesus in 5 A.D. and was brought to this country by midget pilgrims on the Mayflower and if it makes it to the year 2000, it'll be in the Guinness Book of World Records for longest continuous streak of blatant stupidity. Fuck them. If you're going to forward something, at least send me something mildly fucking amusing. I've seen all the 'send this to 50 of your closest friends, and this poor, wretched excuse for a human being will somehow receive a Nickel from some omniscient being forwards about 90 times.

I don't fucking care. Show a little intelligence and think about what you're actually contributing to by sending out forwards. Chances are it's your own unpopularity.

THE FOUR BASIC TYPES OF CHAIN LETTERS:


Chain Letter Type 1

(scroll down)
> > > >> >
> > > >> > Make a wish!!!
> > > >> > Keep Scrolling
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> > No, really, go on and make one!!!
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> > Oh please, they'll never go out with you!!!
> > > >> >
> > > >> > Wish something else!!!
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> > Not that, you pervert!!
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >STOP!!!!
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >Wasn't that fun? :)
> > > >> >Hope you made a great wish :)
> > > >> >
> > > >> >
> > > >> >Now, to make you feel guilty, here's what I'll do. First of all, if you don't send this to 5096 people in the next 5 seconds, you will be raped by a mad goat and thrown off a high building into a pile of manure. It's true! Because, THIS letter isn't like those fake ones, THIS one is TRUE!! Really!!! Here's how it goes:
*Send this to 1 person: One person will be pissed off at you for sending them a stupid chain letter.
*Send this to 2-5 people: 2-5 people will be pissed off at you for sending them a stupid chain letter.
*Send this to 5-10 people: 5-10 people will be pissed off at you for sending them a stupid chain letter, and may form a plot on your life.
*Send this to 10-20 people: 10-20 people will be pissed off at you for sending them a stupid chain letter and will napalm your house.
Thanks!!!! Good Luck!!!


Chain Letter Type 2

Hello, and thank you for reading this letter. You see, there is a starving little boy in Baklaliviatatlaglooshen who has no arms, no legs, no parents, and no goats. This little boy's life could be saved, because for every time you pass this on, a dollar will be donated to the Little Starving Legless Armless Goatless Boy from Baklaliviatatlaglooshen Fund. Oh, and remember, we have absolutely no way of counting the emails sent and this is all a complete load of bull. So go on, reach out. Send this to 5 people in the next 47 seconds. Oh, and a reminder - if you accidentally send this to 4 or 6 people, you will die instantly. Thanks again!!


Chain Letter Type 3

Hi there!! This chain letter has been in existence since 1897. This is absolutely incredible because there was no email then and probably not as many sad pricks with nothing better to do. So this is how it works... Pass this on to 15,067 people in the next 7 minutes or something horrible will happen to you like:

Bizarre Horror Story #1
Miranda Pinsley was walking home from school on Saturday. She had recently received this letter and ignored it. She then tripped in a crack in the sidewalk, fell into the sewer, was gushed down a drainpipe in a flood of sewage, and went flying out over a waterfall. Not only did she smell nasty, she died. This Could Happen To You!!!

Bizarre Horror Story #2
Dexter Bip, a 13 year old boy, got a chain letter in his mail and ignored it. Later that day, he was hit by a car and so was his boyfriend (hey, some people swing that way). They both died and went to hell and Were cursed to eat adorable kittens every day for eternity. This Could Happen To You Too!!! Remember, you could end up just like Pinsley and Bip. Just send this letter to all of your loser friends, and everything will be okay.


Chain Letter Type 4

As if you care, here is a poem that I wrote. Send it to all your friends.

FRIENDS:

A friend is someone who is always at your side.
A friend is someone who likes you even though you stink and your breath smells like you've been eating catfood.
A friend is someone who likes you even though you're ugly
A friend is someone who cleans up for you after you've soiled yourself.
A friend is someone who stays with you all night while you cry about your sad, sad life.
A friend is someone who pretends they like you when they really think you should be raped by mad goats, then thrown to vicious dogs.
A friend is someone who scrubs your toilet, vacuums and then gets the cheque and leaves and doesn't speak much English...no, sorry that's the cleaning lady.
A friend is not someone who sends you chain letters because he wants his wish of being rich to come true.

Now pass this on! If you don't, you'll never have sex ever again!


The point being? If you get some chain letter that's threatening to leave you shagless or luckless for the rest of your life, delete it. If it's funny, send it on. Don't piss people off by making them feel guilty about a leper in Botswana with no teeth, who's been tied to a dead elephant for 27 years, whose only savior is the 5 cents per letter he'll receive if you forward this mail, otherwise you'll end up like Miranda. Right?

Now forward this to everyone that you know otherwise you'll find all your knickers missing tomorrow morning.

~

And now for a treatment I really, really want to write, but probably never will. On account of not knowing how. Hell, I meant to have it finished (writing AND art) by December 25th...

~

Thirteen

-A man wakes up to find himself standing on top of a thirteen mile high pole.
-He has complete amnesia. He can't remember how he got there, who he is, anything...
-So he starts to climb down the pole.
-As he descends he begins to remember why he was up there. Who he was. Et cetera.
-By the time he's got to the bottom of the pole, he remembers why he was up there.
-And he wishes he was back up there.
-But he's too old and too tired to climb back up.

Copyright (c) 2000 (and yeah, 2001 too, in a few days) Caleb Newcastle
(so don't any of you punks go ripping it off [without my permission] before I get round to writing it myself)

~

What I really like about this idea is that I can hang a whole load of stuff off of it. Because we're basically reliving the main characters life, through his recovery of his memory. What was his life? What happened that ended with him atop a thirteen mile high pole? Hell, it's an interesting premise with the potential to be far more... So that's what I'm currently working on.

The Authority (by Warren Ellis) and Clerks (by Kevin Smith). Good books the both of them.

Bill Hicks sounds (sometimes) like a male Victoria. Or maybe she sounds (sometimes) like a female Bill Hicks... Scary, either way.

What's up with the no-people-e-mailing me? I was only gone a couple weeks...

Ooh. And another scary thing. Or thing that scares me. Whatever. Things getting fucked up, and being able to stop them getting fucked up, but not. For no reason I'm prepared to identify.

Send this, watch Relentless, go sleep.

But before that...

Sticky Dicky. You just ripped off half of my own jibba jabba in that questionnaire thing. Why?

But before that...

What's happening in three/four days?

But before that...

Finish reading Clerks.

But before that...