New Year. New Post. Same Old Fuckery.
Time for an update, and this one is dedicated to Richo who is sick of re-reading the Christmas Post.
Happy New Year you cheeky sluts.
It's time to wipe '06 off our guts with a dirty sock, and start barring up for '07.
Did you all have a nice Christmas Day? You don't have to answer that. It was a rhetorical question and besides I can't hear your response through your computer screens. Plus I don't give a fuck. But Merry Christmas anyway.
I managed to pull off a life time ambition, in that I pretty much skipped Christmas Day. I've always wanted to skip just one Christmas, just to see if it could be done. In the end it wasn't that hard to do, seeing how my entire family and most of my friends are on the other side of the planet. It didn't hurt that all of my London cronies were off holidaying outside of London too.
It got to about midnight Christmas Eve and I still didn't have plans, but I ended up flaking out on Toby's couch and we spent Jesus' Birthday drinking booze and watching sitcoms on cable TV. Quite pleasant.
Don't get me wrong, there was plenty of Christmas Spirit flying through Beef town earlier in December. I went to half a dozen Christmas parties, gave Season's Greetings to at least a thousand people, and think I might have caught "girl germs" under the Mistletoe. But it got to the point where if I heard one more Christmas Carol I was going to fire bomb an orphanage, and decided to give it a rest by the time the 25th hit.
Dear God you should have seen London for the entire month of December. If you're thinking a lit up Harrods and Chimney Sweeps drinking Egg Nog, sorry but your way off. It was a stone cold motherless DRUNKEN ORGY. I swear everybody older then 10 and younger then 100 had booze squirting out of their fucking ears from pure unbridled alcohol engorging. The doors of a bus or train would open, and you'd have a second to bask in the stench of liquor before a dozen drunken bastards would fall on top of you. And I just love the way alcohol is still the world's greatest social equalizer. That Vice President of the Law Firm with the 200K job and the trophy wife? He's sitting in the gutter with a three piece suit covered in vomit because he can't hold his brandy. Ha, love it. Stupid Prick.
Yes it was quite the debaucherous month, so much so that I woke up on the 31st and wondered if I could actually muster the strength for a New Year's party (for some strange reason a group of us went and got shit-carted at a bar in Leicester Square on the 30th, New Year's Eve's Eve. Retarded). But after boozing solidly all year it would have seemed dopey to give the "Biggest night of the year" a miss. Besides, a party would just seem empty without me scowling in the corner.
So I ended up at a House Party at a flat in North London, drinking with a heap of people from Adelaide I hadn't met before. I got wasted on Guinness then tried to convince a Nurse to help me pull apart the Stereo Speakers so we could build a set of defibrillators. Then I spent at least an hour explaining to the inhabitants of the house that we should cook some Spaghetti in the Washing Machine. Throw some pasta in the tumbler, Bolognaise Sauce and a clove of garlic in the detergent tray. Let it wash through a cycle, then come back in an hour and everybody can eat out of it. Fuckin' Drunken MacGyver I am, but my plans were lambasted as irresponsible and nobody let me see them through to fruition.
In hindsight, home-made defibrillators are probably a bit stupid. But you can't shake that Washing Machine Pasta from my mind. You can use the Iron to toast some Garlic Bread while your waiting for the tumbler to stop spinning. Try it tonight kids, your parents will love it.
So here we are, 2007.
It's the fucking future already. And we've made it this far without neither the Apes nor the Robots taking over - which strangely has left me feeling more disappointed than relived. We should have at least had an Alien invasion by now. Oh well. Here's to the Zombie Holocaust we'll be living through in 2008 (after World War III later this year).
12 brand new months of Shoddy Blogging. God help us all.
Happy New Year you cheeky sluts.
It's time to wipe '06 off our guts with a dirty sock, and start barring up for '07.
Did you all have a nice Christmas Day? You don't have to answer that. It was a rhetorical question and besides I can't hear your response through your computer screens. Plus I don't give a fuck. But Merry Christmas anyway.
I managed to pull off a life time ambition, in that I pretty much skipped Christmas Day. I've always wanted to skip just one Christmas, just to see if it could be done. In the end it wasn't that hard to do, seeing how my entire family and most of my friends are on the other side of the planet. It didn't hurt that all of my London cronies were off holidaying outside of London too.
It got to about midnight Christmas Eve and I still didn't have plans, but I ended up flaking out on Toby's couch and we spent Jesus' Birthday drinking booze and watching sitcoms on cable TV. Quite pleasant.
Don't get me wrong, there was plenty of Christmas Spirit flying through Beef town earlier in December. I went to half a dozen Christmas parties, gave Season's Greetings to at least a thousand people, and think I might have caught "girl germs" under the Mistletoe. But it got to the point where if I heard one more Christmas Carol I was going to fire bomb an orphanage, and decided to give it a rest by the time the 25th hit.
Dear God you should have seen London for the entire month of December. If you're thinking a lit up Harrods and Chimney Sweeps drinking Egg Nog, sorry but your way off. It was a stone cold motherless DRUNKEN ORGY. I swear everybody older then 10 and younger then 100 had booze squirting out of their fucking ears from pure unbridled alcohol engorging. The doors of a bus or train would open, and you'd have a second to bask in the stench of liquor before a dozen drunken bastards would fall on top of you. And I just love the way alcohol is still the world's greatest social equalizer. That Vice President of the Law Firm with the 200K job and the trophy wife? He's sitting in the gutter with a three piece suit covered in vomit because he can't hold his brandy. Ha, love it. Stupid Prick.
Yes it was quite the debaucherous month, so much so that I woke up on the 31st and wondered if I could actually muster the strength for a New Year's party (for some strange reason a group of us went and got shit-carted at a bar in Leicester Square on the 30th, New Year's Eve's Eve. Retarded). But after boozing solidly all year it would have seemed dopey to give the "Biggest night of the year" a miss. Besides, a party would just seem empty without me scowling in the corner.
So I ended up at a House Party at a flat in North London, drinking with a heap of people from Adelaide I hadn't met before. I got wasted on Guinness then tried to convince a Nurse to help me pull apart the Stereo Speakers so we could build a set of defibrillators. Then I spent at least an hour explaining to the inhabitants of the house that we should cook some Spaghetti in the Washing Machine. Throw some pasta in the tumbler, Bolognaise Sauce and a clove of garlic in the detergent tray. Let it wash through a cycle, then come back in an hour and everybody can eat out of it. Fuckin' Drunken MacGyver I am, but my plans were lambasted as irresponsible and nobody let me see them through to fruition.
In hindsight, home-made defibrillators are probably a bit stupid. But you can't shake that Washing Machine Pasta from my mind. You can use the Iron to toast some Garlic Bread while your waiting for the tumbler to stop spinning. Try it tonight kids, your parents will love it.
So here we are, 2007.
It's the fucking future already. And we've made it this far without neither the Apes nor the Robots taking over - which strangely has left me feeling more disappointed than relived. We should have at least had an Alien invasion by now. Oh well. Here's to the Zombie Holocaust we'll be living through in 2008 (after World War III later this year).
12 brand new months of Shoddy Blogging. God help us all.
posted by Beef at Friday, January 12, 2007
7 Comments:
Yikes, another 20 day dry spell between posts. New Year's Resolutions:
1. Post more
2. Buy a Cactus
3. Stay alive.
Fuck that's a simple enough list.
Surely I can achieve those.
Also: I'll change that Shoddy Santa logo when I get some time. I completely fucked my computer at work, and Photoshop went with it.
Christ, I'd rather watch a train plough into a school bus than lose my precious Photoshop.
Hopefully I can get the bastard back.
b.
PS Once I retrieve Photoshop -Insane Cats...have we drained that well, or are they good for another year? We may need a new Shoddy mascot for 2007, and I'm open to suggestions.
Beefa, I`d liek to see an insane cat gallery - just collections of pics on the site.
Perhaps for the mascot you could use the photo of the crying Andrew Flintoff, or photoshop a Bong into inappropriate places. Perhaps crying flintoff with a bong into inappropriate places. One such inappropriate place would be Andrwe Flintoff, crying, with a big hookah pipe, coming out of a woman giving birth. Surprised doctor in the foreground optional. Things like that.
Mousehead that.
welcome back f*cker. and happy news to your and your family of sudanese child labourers.
indian heads on sticks roasting slowly at your nearest bay-marie
I too desire to spend at least one Christmas not fucking celebrating Christmas.
I have an affinity for the cats. Drink some warm pub beer for me while you plan for how to fend off the zombie invasion. One word: Machette. It never needs re-loading.
Well, that is my favourite post of the year so far.
You have such a fucking way with words.
Happy New Year fucko.
Is it me, or are you surlier this year? Thats right, surly. And as for me, the cats are still funny. Keep 'em coming
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