It's a female bus driver, so this bus musings might forget to stop at red lights, be a bit sporadic and have occasional PMS.
A disabled polish person just got on the bus. He looks like a normal downs syndrome, except he has a more pronounced brow. I have to change subject, because he's looking at me and most of the guys in the UFC are proof that I couldn't beat him.
The little boys at the back of the bus, beside me, think they are from Long Beach. They are playing their tinny music from their Sony erricsons and it's shite.
I've taken to sitting at the back of the bus. Even if there are already 4 youths siting there, I'll join them. I don't know what it is, maybe I look a bit older now, but they never say anything. They're usually quiet when a weird, slightly older person sits next to them, especially when there's nobody else on the bus.
I remember about 4 years ago I was on the bus with Iain. A family got on and they had a big bag of coke with them. Not the sugary treat, but the devil's dandruff. The mum had it in a carrier bag in her lap and the daughter tried to dip her finger in it. The mum said "not afore yuv had yer tea" and she stopped. Then (the scary bit) she turned to me and Iain and started asking why he looked like a girl. Then they decided we were gay together and started asking us questions about bumming. Iain answered them all and I stared out of the window. I genuinely thought we were going to die. The dad was trying to be nice and kept saying 'leave the queers alone, hun' - he was the scariest of all.
My new friends at the back just got off. One of them kicked my bag by accident and apologised as if I had a knife. Weird.
Off to work.
About Me
- ChePasty
- Euania, Scotland
- Euan Menzies (Manzies). Age; 20. Height; 5'6". IQ; 17. Enjoy.
Sunday, 31 October 2010
Thursday, 28 October 2010
"Wanna come and see a film?" ; "Only if it's in 2D. If it's in 3D, you can FLECK OFF" (Featuring Bob)
Twenty-four moons ago, I started this blog so I could pester Euan. After about two days, I thought it was a way I could try and make Euan famous and embarrass him. In the end, this has just been general news (all true) about Euan's life. So yeah, it hasn't changed much.
Today though people, in the way that Barack Obama couldn't, I am bringing you change. My dearest friend Bob and I have written a collaboration blog, because both of us think we're equally funny. We also both hate 3D and that is the subject of this post (see what I did there? clever aye? I pure love me). I hope you enjoy this (and if you don't stop reading, as it doesn't once mention nazis and Hitler (the stuff you like)). If you do enjoy it, why not gander over to Bob's blog and keep sniggering at our unstoppable idiocy. Thank you.
Bob
You've seen it on posters. You've seen it in the cinemas. You can see it in shops, on TVs, in pubs. You can see it in your children's eyes. I am talking of course, about the latest flashy fad to spew it's shiny processed guts over every movie.
I'm talking of course, about 3D.
Every decade has had it's gimmick to keep cinema goers happy; the 80's had montages (and briefly, 3D), the 90's had cheap CGI (and computer hackers. every 90's movie had a hacker in it somewhere), the 00's had better CGI, and now in 2010, we have 3D. Just like all these other fad's, 3D will become overused until we get bored of it. Why? Because cinema audiences are stupid and easily amused, and filmmakers are lazy. Why bother with decent plot structure, acting, character depth, or any sense of realism when you can instead distract the audience with a 3D super slow-motion explosion?
Myself
If normal explosions weren't good enough, it won't be long until spunky explosions in porn are also shot in 3D. I'm not sure if they've been made yet, if not they're definitely missing a messy treat. The reaction videos all over the world would be hilarious.
Boy falls asleep. Boys' friends put porn on 3D tele (which costs far too much for something originally designed in the 50s (it failed then, too)). Boy wakes up (I'm imagining drunk) to a muff lunging at his face. My favourite bit would be at the end, when he literally jumps behind the sofa, because he thinks he'll get spunked on. It'll be reminiscent of my mum hiding behind the sofa at the first ever showing of Dr Who, except nobody was waving a giant cock in her face and trying to spunk on her (eh grandad?).
Bob
Like an evil scientist resurrecting the dead for his own sexual purposes, 3D is now finding its way back through history, to re-release all your favourite movies. Back to the Future. In 3D! Star Wars. In 3D! Citizen Kane. In 3D! (one of these is a lie. I wished it was Star Wars). 3D is like a license to show repeats, an excuse to re-release some old movie the film company owns the rights to. Or in George Lucas' case, to squeeze some more money from the franchise.
And maybe even worse, sequels that should have never even been considered are now being released...in 3D! Who in their right mind would have made a Shrek 4? Oh but of course, if u add "3D" after the title, audiences will go see it anyway. It's like crack to these people. I'm positive that you could release a film just called "3D", and it would break all box office records. There is something very wrong with this craze, and what is even more terrifying is that I don't think I can understand it. And I've been trying, dammit.
Myself
I, on the other hand, think I've worked out why 3D is so successful at the moment. The average person is 5' 6", about ten stone, mixed sex and an idiot. To make it even worse, because the average person is stupid, it means that - by definition - 50% of people are more stupid than that.
Maybe you think we (the elite) are being elitist, but we're not at all. The argument for 3D is purely that "it's more immersive, aye?", but do films need to connect emotionally with their audiences any more than they already do? I cried watching Marley and Me; I'm not afraid to admit that. It didn't need to be in 3D for me to feel involved with the main characters. The main character didn't even need to be human and I still felt close to it and got the story on an emotional and immersive level.
In a world where everything has to be right in people's faces for idiots to understand, it makes sense for us to want to have films acted out around us, instead of in beautiful, conventional, 2D form. For the people who love 3D, let me introduce you to cinema's father; Theatre. It's really good, honest.
Bob
In case Paul didn't make it clear, that was a joke. theater was fine maybe before the Internet, but nowadays we have better ways to masturbate.
But I digress.
So what comes after 3D? when the cinema-going public eventually grow tired of this 3D trend, the film industry will fill the void with another flashy distraction. ultra HD? 4D? maybe even...better films? Because the sad truth is that Hollywood will always make films that give the public what they think they want. by this I mean that dumb, loud, flashy movies and phenomenons such as 3D will always be more popular and more likely to be made than intelligent well made films - just like the X-factor is more popular than The Sopranos, or how Big Brother was constantly renewed for countless seasons when Arrested Development was cancelled.
Myself
It's embarrassing that we live in a world in which we vote a 69 year old film (Citizen Kane) as the best film ever made. I am happy to admit it's an absolutely fantastic movie and one of my favourites, but it's still a sad indictment of our times that we have to look so far back for a movie that was truly amazing.
3D has brought us nothing and it never will. As Bob has just pointed out, maybe it's time to start making movies with a beautiful script, instead of trying to polish out a turd by slapping some 3D on it.
I just jokingly googled Avatar 2 and saw it's in pre-production. This world is a horrible place to live in. Perhaps our only salvation is for me and Bob to write a film - I just need to convince him his life and anus are 100% safe. And yeah, it's gonna be in 2D.
Fuck you James Cameron!
Today though people, in the way that Barack Obama couldn't, I am bringing you change. My dearest friend Bob and I have written a collaboration blog, because both of us think we're equally funny. We also both hate 3D and that is the subject of this post (see what I did there? clever aye? I pure love me). I hope you enjoy this (and if you don't stop reading, as it doesn't once mention nazis and Hitler (the stuff you like)). If you do enjoy it, why not gander over to Bob's blog and keep sniggering at our unstoppable idiocy. Thank you.
Bob
You've seen it on posters. You've seen it in the cinemas. You can see it in shops, on TVs, in pubs. You can see it in your children's eyes. I am talking of course, about the latest flashy fad to spew it's shiny processed guts over every movie.
I'm talking of course, about 3D.
Every decade has had it's gimmick to keep cinema goers happy; the 80's had montages (and briefly, 3D), the 90's had cheap CGI (and computer hackers. every 90's movie had a hacker in it somewhere), the 00's had better CGI, and now in 2010, we have 3D. Just like all these other fad's, 3D will become overused until we get bored of it. Why? Because cinema audiences are stupid and easily amused, and filmmakers are lazy. Why bother with decent plot structure, acting, character depth, or any sense of realism when you can instead distract the audience with a 3D super slow-motion explosion?
Myself
If normal explosions weren't good enough, it won't be long until spunky explosions in porn are also shot in 3D. I'm not sure if they've been made yet, if not they're definitely missing a messy treat. The reaction videos all over the world would be hilarious.
Boy falls asleep. Boys' friends put porn on 3D tele (which costs far too much for something originally designed in the 50s (it failed then, too)). Boy wakes up (I'm imagining drunk) to a muff lunging at his face. My favourite bit would be at the end, when he literally jumps behind the sofa, because he thinks he'll get spunked on. It'll be reminiscent of my mum hiding behind the sofa at the first ever showing of Dr Who, except nobody was waving a giant cock in her face and trying to spunk on her (eh grandad?).
Bob
Like an evil scientist resurrecting the dead for his own sexual purposes, 3D is now finding its way back through history, to re-release all your favourite movies. Back to the Future. In 3D! Star Wars. In 3D! Citizen Kane. In 3D! (one of these is a lie. I wished it was Star Wars). 3D is like a license to show repeats, an excuse to re-release some old movie the film company owns the rights to. Or in George Lucas' case, to squeeze some more money from the franchise.
And maybe even worse, sequels that should have never even been considered are now being released...in 3D! Who in their right mind would have made a Shrek 4? Oh but of course, if u add "3D" after the title, audiences will go see it anyway. It's like crack to these people. I'm positive that you could release a film just called "3D", and it would break all box office records. There is something very wrong with this craze, and what is even more terrifying is that I don't think I can understand it. And I've been trying, dammit.
Myself
I, on the other hand, think I've worked out why 3D is so successful at the moment. The average person is 5' 6", about ten stone, mixed sex and an idiot. To make it even worse, because the average person is stupid, it means that - by definition - 50% of people are more stupid than that.
Maybe you think we (the elite) are being elitist, but we're not at all. The argument for 3D is purely that "it's more immersive, aye?", but do films need to connect emotionally with their audiences any more than they already do? I cried watching Marley and Me; I'm not afraid to admit that. It didn't need to be in 3D for me to feel involved with the main characters. The main character didn't even need to be human and I still felt close to it and got the story on an emotional and immersive level.
In a world where everything has to be right in people's faces for idiots to understand, it makes sense for us to want to have films acted out around us, instead of in beautiful, conventional, 2D form. For the people who love 3D, let me introduce you to cinema's father; Theatre. It's really good, honest.
Bob
In case Paul didn't make it clear, that was a joke. theater was fine maybe before the Internet, but nowadays we have better ways to masturbate.
But I digress.
So what comes after 3D? when the cinema-going public eventually grow tired of this 3D trend, the film industry will fill the void with another flashy distraction. ultra HD? 4D? maybe even...better films? Because the sad truth is that Hollywood will always make films that give the public what they think they want. by this I mean that dumb, loud, flashy movies and phenomenons such as 3D will always be more popular and more likely to be made than intelligent well made films - just like the X-factor is more popular than The Sopranos, or how Big Brother was constantly renewed for countless seasons when Arrested Development was cancelled.
Myself
It's embarrassing that we live in a world in which we vote a 69 year old film (Citizen Kane) as the best film ever made. I am happy to admit it's an absolutely fantastic movie and one of my favourites, but it's still a sad indictment of our times that we have to look so far back for a movie that was truly amazing.
3D has brought us nothing and it never will. As Bob has just pointed out, maybe it's time to start making movies with a beautiful script, instead of trying to polish out a turd by slapping some 3D on it.
I just jokingly googled Avatar 2 and saw it's in pre-production. This world is a horrible place to live in. Perhaps our only salvation is for me and Bob to write a film - I just need to convince him his life and anus are 100% safe. And yeah, it's gonna be in 2D.
Fuck you James Cameron!
Wednesday, 27 October 2010
Excerpts from "Love and Hate"
This next bit is written by our dear friend, Bob (short for Daniel Taylor). I think it's hilarious. For more hilarity, read his blog here. It's great!
Euan and Paul. Paul and Euan. Two seemingly immortal beings, tied together by fate, and doomed to spend eternity balancing the equation of their lives. Their path through history together is a tale fit for a library of books, of which I, Daniel "Bob" Taylor, am writing. I have known both of them for years; I was their squadron leader back in 'Nam, their band manager in the 80's, their dealer near the end of the 20th century, and their psychologist numerous times (although neither knew the other was seeing me as a patient). This in depth and unique perspective I have on their intertwining lives, coupled with the blog debt I owe them, has driven me to write their story. I hereby present excerpts from my upcoming epic, "Paul and Euan - Love and Hate"
Taken from Chapter 5 - No Turning Back
Mekong river delta, Vietnam, 1968
I gazed across the burning jungle with ash on my uniform and lead in my heart, the cries of the Vietcong still loud enough in my ears to mask the sound of Private Menzies running up the path to my tent. He startled me, but you wouldn't know it to look at my bloodied and grimy face. War had stolen my ability to express feelings. Private Menzies was crying. I had never seen him cry. Not like this.
"What is it soldier?" I growled, trying to fathom what could break such a fine war machine.
"It's Paul, sir, he, he..." Private Menzies vomited onto the ground, unable to continue. Wiping his mouth, he simply pointed, shaking his trembling arm back at the village. The village where we were keeping the woman and children, waiting to be evacuated. I had left them in the care of Private McCallum.
The look in his eyes told me to run, to get to the village as fast as possible. I padded down the dirt road, three armed soldiers and Private Menzies in my wake. I slowed to a cautious trot. Before the village echoed of crying Vietnamese, now only silence. Not even the birds were calling. As we circled around the tents, I could hear someone singing...nursery rhymes? But it wasn't as a child would sing them, this sounded like a demon struggling to speak the king's English, his quiet garbling almost...joyful. I rounded the corner, and what I saw made me vomit onto the crimson-stained ground.
* * *
Fort Bragg, N. Carolina, U.S, 1969
Private McCallum stood upright, against the wooden post, blindfolded. He was still. The only sign he was conscious was the burning ember on the tip of his cigarette, glowing as he inhaled. I looked over the thirty man firing squad I had assembled. I'd had to limit it to thirty, the whole regiment had volunteered for the task. Sergeant Menzies stood silently by my side, his hand fingering his holstered weapon. I wished he wasn't here, but nothing on God's earth could prevent him from seeing this through. I unrolled the document in my hand, and read.
"Private Paul McCallum, 9th division, U.S Army. You have been charged and sentenced by a panel of your peers to death, for the most heinous crimes and atrocities known to man. Your death sentence will be carried out by firing squad. May God have mercy on your soul. Any last words?"
The silence was palpable, the cold field holding it's breath. His lips moved.
"Euan" he whispered.
Private Menzies looked at him. I was unable to tell what was going through his mind. He looked at me. I nodded. He moved closer, leaning in so Private McCallum could speak in his ear. We stood in silence as Menzies listened. A crow called in the distance.
He stood back, looking at the man tied to the wooden post, a questioning look of confusion and moral terror. He screamed, his shrill cry shattering the fragile silence, and pulled his gun from his holster. I stepped forward, knowing what was about to happen, but powerless to stop it. Private Menzies screamed and emptied his service revolver into McCallum's chest, clicking the trigger until it was dry. He fell to the ground in tears, defeated, as the firing squad muttered and walked away, disappointed. I walked forward and placed my hand on Euan's shoulder, staring at the corpse of the dead private.
He was smiling.
I nodded to the guard, and walked into the small cell, hidden deep in the Fort Bragg basement, away from watchful eyes. The noise of my footsteps caused the shadow in the corner to lean forward, and smiled up at me.
"You were charged with crimes unspeakable in the field of combat" I stated "You want to tell me about it?"
"Apparently I have an attitude problem" he smirked. I stared at him.
"Your sentence was carried out this morning when you were shot 12 times in the chest, while I watched. How did that feel?"
He grinned at me, the same grin he'd had on his face this morning, while hanging from the wooden post.
"It tickled"
Euan and Paul. Paul and Euan. Two seemingly immortal beings, tied together by fate, and doomed to spend eternity balancing the equation of their lives. Their path through history together is a tale fit for a library of books, of which I, Daniel "Bob" Taylor, am writing. I have known both of them for years; I was their squadron leader back in 'Nam, their band manager in the 80's, their dealer near the end of the 20th century, and their psychologist numerous times (although neither knew the other was seeing me as a patient). This in depth and unique perspective I have on their intertwining lives, coupled with the blog debt I owe them, has driven me to write their story. I hereby present excerpts from my upcoming epic, "Paul and Euan - Love and Hate"
Taken from Chapter 5 - No Turning Back
Mekong river delta, Vietnam, 1968
I gazed across the burning jungle with ash on my uniform and lead in my heart, the cries of the Vietcong still loud enough in my ears to mask the sound of Private Menzies running up the path to my tent. He startled me, but you wouldn't know it to look at my bloodied and grimy face. War had stolen my ability to express feelings. Private Menzies was crying. I had never seen him cry. Not like this.
"What is it soldier?" I growled, trying to fathom what could break such a fine war machine.
"It's Paul, sir, he, he..." Private Menzies vomited onto the ground, unable to continue. Wiping his mouth, he simply pointed, shaking his trembling arm back at the village. The village where we were keeping the woman and children, waiting to be evacuated. I had left them in the care of Private McCallum.
The look in his eyes told me to run, to get to the village as fast as possible. I padded down the dirt road, three armed soldiers and Private Menzies in my wake. I slowed to a cautious trot. Before the village echoed of crying Vietnamese, now only silence. Not even the birds were calling. As we circled around the tents, I could hear someone singing...nursery rhymes? But it wasn't as a child would sing them, this sounded like a demon struggling to speak the king's English, his quiet garbling almost...joyful. I rounded the corner, and what I saw made me vomit onto the crimson-stained ground.
* * *
Fort Bragg, N. Carolina, U.S, 1969
Private McCallum stood upright, against the wooden post, blindfolded. He was still. The only sign he was conscious was the burning ember on the tip of his cigarette, glowing as he inhaled. I looked over the thirty man firing squad I had assembled. I'd had to limit it to thirty, the whole regiment had volunteered for the task. Sergeant Menzies stood silently by my side, his hand fingering his holstered weapon. I wished he wasn't here, but nothing on God's earth could prevent him from seeing this through. I unrolled the document in my hand, and read.
"Private Paul McCallum, 9th division, U.S Army. You have been charged and sentenced by a panel of your peers to death, for the most heinous crimes and atrocities known to man. Your death sentence will be carried out by firing squad. May God have mercy on your soul. Any last words?"
The silence was palpable, the cold field holding it's breath. His lips moved.
"Euan" he whispered.
Private Menzies looked at him. I was unable to tell what was going through his mind. He looked at me. I nodded. He moved closer, leaning in so Private McCallum could speak in his ear. We stood in silence as Menzies listened. A crow called in the distance.
He stood back, looking at the man tied to the wooden post, a questioning look of confusion and moral terror. He screamed, his shrill cry shattering the fragile silence, and pulled his gun from his holster. I stepped forward, knowing what was about to happen, but powerless to stop it. Private Menzies screamed and emptied his service revolver into McCallum's chest, clicking the trigger until it was dry. He fell to the ground in tears, defeated, as the firing squad muttered and walked away, disappointed. I walked forward and placed my hand on Euan's shoulder, staring at the corpse of the dead private.
He was smiling.
I nodded to the guard, and walked into the small cell, hidden deep in the Fort Bragg basement, away from watchful eyes. The noise of my footsteps caused the shadow in the corner to lean forward, and smiled up at me.
"You were charged with crimes unspeakable in the field of combat" I stated "You want to tell me about it?"
"Apparently I have an attitude problem" he smirked. I stared at him.
"Your sentence was carried out this morning when you were shot 12 times in the chest, while I watched. How did that feel?"
He grinned at me, the same grin he'd had on his face this morning, while hanging from the wooden post.
"It tickled"
Tuesday, 26 October 2010
Shameless Plug!
So me and Euan made a wee video, in which we discuss a few points raised in the blogs and argue it out (try to embarrass each other). He clearly wins and it's quite funny. Pop it on in the background while surfing the web and pretend we live in your head. I'd love to live in your head. Euan lived in mine for a few weeks for a dare; I guess that explains why he is a little bit off.
[CLICK]
Also, he has started making game reviews and funny videos from the games we play. Might be funny. Check it here.
[CLICK]
Also, he has started making game reviews and funny videos from the games we play. Might be funny. Check it here.
My Dream
This post is about a dream I had. It's not from Euan in any way, and because it's a dream, I might have misremembered it. I just wanted to say that you all know it might not be 100% accurate, like the rest of my posts.
Anyway.
I woke up in a cold sweat last night. We had the heating on for a bit yesterday, so the flat was far too warm and then after sleeping naked without a duvet, it was cold. My body got confused and angry at me and I woke up. I'm only mentioning temperature, because it had nothing to do with the sweat I was in. The sweat was induced by the notion that Euan Menzies is not a household name. I mean, I know if you type "deeatribe" into google, a post about Euan comes up, even although it's nothing to do with him; so that is an achievement, but that's about it. If you google his name, you've got to look down through about 4 links, before he comes up; and that's unacceptable.
I don't know what I need to do to make Euan a world famous name. Euan - that's the point. I want his first name to be synonymous for him. I want people to hear "Euan" and instantly think of Euan Menzies; like Kylie, Madonna, Justin, Steve (doesn't really work with Steve, but you get the idea)
Then again, that is something I love about Euan's name. It is so monosyllabic, that it doesn't connote, denote or emote anything. It's just a noise. Some animals probably make the noise without thinking. It's the same as "Paul". It doesn't mean anything. "Euan" is never going to be the hero of any story. He's never going to achieve anything great and he's never going to be a WW2 pin-up girl; for obvious reasons. I've thought about bringing out a t-shirt range with his wee face plastered over peoples' chests, but that's about as far as my plans go. I'm sure there are a million other ways we can make him famous (stickers of his name around campus, for example (genius. This is going to happen soon)), but I don't know.
The whole point of this is that I would like you people to come up with ideas to make him a superstar. World famous, preferably, but I'll settle for Dundee or even Dundee Uni famous, if I have to.
I want him to be the new rector with a bigger turn out than ever before. I want him to be known. I want him to be somebody. If people don't understand why, just read a few of these blogs and you'll see why. As well as that, he's just my hobby, I guess.
Anyway.
I woke up in a cold sweat last night. We had the heating on for a bit yesterday, so the flat was far too warm and then after sleeping naked without a duvet, it was cold. My body got confused and angry at me and I woke up. I'm only mentioning temperature, because it had nothing to do with the sweat I was in. The sweat was induced by the notion that Euan Menzies is not a household name. I mean, I know if you type "deeatribe" into google, a post about Euan comes up, even although it's nothing to do with him; so that is an achievement, but that's about it. If you google his name, you've got to look down through about 4 links, before he comes up; and that's unacceptable.
I don't know what I need to do to make Euan a world famous name. Euan - that's the point. I want his first name to be synonymous for him. I want people to hear "Euan" and instantly think of Euan Menzies; like Kylie, Madonna, Justin, Steve (doesn't really work with Steve, but you get the idea)
Then again, that is something I love about Euan's name. It is so monosyllabic, that it doesn't connote, denote or emote anything. It's just a noise. Some animals probably make the noise without thinking. It's the same as "Paul". It doesn't mean anything. "Euan" is never going to be the hero of any story. He's never going to achieve anything great and he's never going to be a WW2 pin-up girl; for obvious reasons. I've thought about bringing out a t-shirt range with his wee face plastered over peoples' chests, but that's about as far as my plans go. I'm sure there are a million other ways we can make him famous (stickers of his name around campus, for example (genius. This is going to happen soon)), but I don't know.
The whole point of this is that I would like you people to come up with ideas to make him a superstar. World famous, preferably, but I'll settle for Dundee or even Dundee Uni famous, if I have to.
I want him to be the new rector with a bigger turn out than ever before. I want him to be known. I want him to be somebody. If people don't understand why, just read a few of these blogs and you'll see why. As well as that, he's just my hobby, I guess.
Monday, 25 October 2010
Euan's Disney
Well, I've just had a weird experience. Contrary to popular belief, Euan didn't die the other day. He just floated into a sewage treatment plant and they recycled him back to us. Hurray for us. I think as a punishment we should all post "You liar" on his Facebook wall.
Anyway, that's not the weird experience; this is. I walked into the flat and Euan was playing a Disney game (My Heart is a Kingdom) on the PS2. The game is like Last Fantasy, but with Disney characters. He's been playing it for a few days now and although the AI is smarter than him (and more handsome and with more friends and nice people), he really likes it.
So yeah, he was fighting with the typical Disney characters and all of a sudden just said; "AHHHH, I hate Dappy Duck and Michael Mouse". I asked him if he meant "Daffy and Mickey" and he said; "It's a Sunday, they use their Christian names on a Sunday"
I don't even know what to say to that. Maybe he's right (he's not), but I never knew they ever used their posh, real names.
I guess it's because he wasn't allowed to watch Disney as a child. His parents refused to buy him the Disney tapes, because they said Disney was evil and would make him really violent. They knew if it didn't do that, it'd make him want to be a Disney princess. With hindsight, they were right, I suppose, but it's quite strict. Niall, his brother, was allowed to watch whatever he wanted as a child though.
I remember going to their house as a three year old - Niall was 1 and watching Blade Runner and Euan was just doing Bible studies... it's weird when siblings are brought up different (like the Queen and her spastic twin) but why not.
Anyway, that's not the weird experience; this is. I walked into the flat and Euan was playing a Disney game (My Heart is a Kingdom) on the PS2. The game is like Last Fantasy, but with Disney characters. He's been playing it for a few days now and although the AI is smarter than him (and more handsome and with more friends and nice people), he really likes it.
So yeah, he was fighting with the typical Disney characters and all of a sudden just said; "AHHHH, I hate Dappy Duck and Michael Mouse". I asked him if he meant "Daffy and Mickey" and he said; "It's a Sunday, they use their Christian names on a Sunday"
I don't even know what to say to that. Maybe he's right (he's not), but I never knew they ever used their posh, real names.
I guess it's because he wasn't allowed to watch Disney as a child. His parents refused to buy him the Disney tapes, because they said Disney was evil and would make him really violent. They knew if it didn't do that, it'd make him want to be a Disney princess. With hindsight, they were right, I suppose, but it's quite strict. Niall, his brother, was allowed to watch whatever he wanted as a child though.
I remember going to their house as a three year old - Niall was 1 and watching Blade Runner and Euan was just doing Bible studies... it's weird when siblings are brought up different (like the Queen and her spastic twin) but why not.
Sunday, 24 October 2010
Bus Musings 2
The bus is weird today. The Mormon didn't get on, but a 'gang' did. Not a cool gang with cars and guns, but the kind that get the bus and all wear the same trilby. Seriously, it feels like the west side story on this bus. The falsetto right in front of me looks like he's gonna kick off!
As well as the gang, there are two children, between 4 and 6, and they're swearing and shouting at each other across the bus. The parents are there, of course. Stupid minks.
To make it worse, everyone on the bus is discussing whether or not the clocks have gone back. It's weird hearing people confused about when they are. They still got on the bus, though, so I guess it hasn't made a huge difference to their lives.
Off to work.
As well as the gang, there are two children, between 4 and 6, and they're swearing and shouting at each other across the bus. The parents are there, of course. Stupid minks.
To make it worse, everyone on the bus is discussing whether or not the clocks have gone back. It's weird hearing people confused about when they are. They still got on the bus, though, so I guess it hasn't made a huge difference to their lives.
Off to work.
Bus Musings 1
The Mormon just got on the bus - it's going to be a good day. I always have a good day when he's on the bus with me. I've never spoken to him before. He doesn't seem too happy today, I guess it's because he doesn't have his book with him. He always has his book. I wonder which one it is.
The bus is going faster than usual. I don't like it when the bus goes too fast, just because there is only me and a Mormon on it. It should take the same time when it's quiet and when it's busy. It's things like this that make me miss the bus to work sometimes, just because the driver is hurrying. Idiot.
The mormon just got off the bus and has a limp. I hope he's okay.
Last week two old women sat beside me and one of them pissed themselves. I haven't washed my trousers since then. That's a bit disgusting. I never thought that I'd miss the pissy bus lady.
The bus has taken literally 9 minutes to make it across town. This is a bad omen.
Off to work.
The bus is going faster than usual. I don't like it when the bus goes too fast, just because there is only me and a Mormon on it. It should take the same time when it's quiet and when it's busy. It's things like this that make me miss the bus to work sometimes, just because the driver is hurrying. Idiot.
The mormon just got off the bus and has a limp. I hope he's okay.
Last week two old women sat beside me and one of them pissed themselves. I haven't washed my trousers since then. That's a bit disgusting. I never thought that I'd miss the pissy bus lady.
The bus has taken literally 9 minutes to make it across town. This is a bad omen.
Off to work.
Friday, 22 October 2010
Euan's Gone
Before I start, the important news is that the 50th post special vlog is all nice and planned and I'm just waiting for Euan to get back from the YMCA, so that we can record it.
Last, and by all means least, Euan is dead. I know I've made light the state of his mortality before, but he is actually dead.
It all started this morning when I noticed there was a sever weather warning on the news;
http://uk.weather.com/severeWeatherAlert
I told Euan and he said, "no, that's just in Angus, we'll be safe". Now, I hate to argue with the dead, but I will here. Angus completely surrounds Dundee. It does. If you look far enough out of Dundee, you're looking at Angus (or the Kingdom of Fife, but nobody wants to look at that). Euan thinks that the slight differences in council tax between Dundee and Angus mean that Dundee will be exempt from rain today. Sadly, he was wrong... so wrong.
He'd been out at uni for a few hours studying (wanking in the library) and decided to walk home. The rain was really heavy by this point and he was only wearing shorts and a shirt, so he wasn't protected from the elements in the slightest.
I got a phone call and saw it was Euan. After ignoring it for the first three rings (play it mean, keep 'em moist) I answered, "Alright dickhead". All I heard was screaming, "Fine, I wont call you names anymore"
"No Paul, I'm drowning."
"well, I did warn you," I answered with authority.
"look at the buoy in the river,"
"It's a big river..."
"JUST LOOK"
So I looked and there I saw a boy... not a buoy, but a boy. Not even a boy, but a Euan. My Euan. I started shouting down the phone at him, for being at idiot and thinking he could take his canoe out in such weather, but there was no answer.
I've not informed the police yet, because they're probably too busy stopping drunk 19-year-olds from driving or putting parking tickets on wheelie bins; but as soon as they're free, I'll give them a ring.
Anyway. I just want everybody to post a "RIP little Manzies" on his facebook wall. Extra points will be awarded to the people who write the nicest little ditties.
RIP Buddy. Why do the whores always die first?!
Last, and by all means least, Euan is dead. I know I've made light the state of his mortality before, but he is actually dead.
It all started this morning when I noticed there was a sever weather warning on the news;
http://uk.weather.com/severeWeatherAlert
I told Euan and he said, "no, that's just in Angus, we'll be safe". Now, I hate to argue with the dead, but I will here. Angus completely surrounds Dundee. It does. If you look far enough out of Dundee, you're looking at Angus (or the Kingdom of Fife, but nobody wants to look at that). Euan thinks that the slight differences in council tax between Dundee and Angus mean that Dundee will be exempt from rain today. Sadly, he was wrong... so wrong.
He'd been out at uni for a few hours studying (wanking in the library) and decided to walk home. The rain was really heavy by this point and he was only wearing shorts and a shirt, so he wasn't protected from the elements in the slightest.
I got a phone call and saw it was Euan. After ignoring it for the first three rings (play it mean, keep 'em moist) I answered, "Alright dickhead". All I heard was screaming, "Fine, I wont call you names anymore"
"No Paul, I'm drowning."
"well, I did warn you," I answered with authority.
"look at the buoy in the river,"
"It's a big river..."
"JUST LOOK"
So I looked and there I saw a boy... not a buoy, but a boy. Not even a boy, but a Euan. My Euan. I started shouting down the phone at him, for being at idiot and thinking he could take his canoe out in such weather, but there was no answer.
I've not informed the police yet, because they're probably too busy stopping drunk 19-year-olds from driving or putting parking tickets on wheelie bins; but as soon as they're free, I'll give them a ring.
Anyway. I just want everybody to post a "RIP little Manzies" on his facebook wall. Extra points will be awarded to the people who write the nicest little ditties.
RIP Buddy. Why do the whores always die first?!
Thursday, 21 October 2010
50th Post Special
We have a nice video plan for the 50th post special, but it's not done yet, so I'll keep you all informed for when it's up.
This post is all going to be about me, because he (and many others) have claimed I might be having a mental breakdown. He wants me to list the reasons (proof) he thinks it's happening. So here we go;
1) I say and do things and then can't remember doing them. The other day at work when my manager was serving a customer, I was sitting with my back to them. They were about to buy a £10,000 kitchen which I had booked the appointment for. I was just browsing the computer, while she worked her magic and then they left happily. As soon as they'd gone, she turned to me and started laughing. I asked why and she said that it was because I had been making high pitched bird noises. I genuinely can't remember doing this. She had to pretend it was perfectly normal so that the customers thought I was a "special child" (spastic). I got home and told Euan about this and he said I do it all of the time. Luckily my darling girlfriend was there to back me up... but she didn't. She sided with him.
2) I can't be alone. If I am alone for a few minutes, I'll put music or podcasts on. Usually podcasts. I even listen to them when I am in bed. Ill be lying there next to my girlfriend speaking and keeping her awake with my antics and she'll get annoyed. So she puts my headphones in and I giggle myself to sleep with my "podcasts friends" who I'll never meet.
I've even been known to refuse to eat because people wont come across the street with me to get food.
3) I deliberately leave my keys in the flat, so I have to do the buzzer and get to see Euan's wee face.
4)I've got a hair style now. Never before have I had a style. I've always had hair (never had cancer, yet (fingers crossed)), but it's always been just that. Hair sitting on my head. Recently, I've had a lesbian come around and shape it into hair shape. It's nice I guess, but I usually want it cut when I realise I'm in my 20s now and need to "grow up". Well listen up, squares, I stopped growing physically when I was 14 and mentally AGES ago; so don't hold out hope for my growing up any time soon, whatever it means.
5) I need daily reassurance that Euan is my friend. I mean, he's been at my side (equally) for 17 years now, but I still need him to tell me he is my friend.
6) I can't stop eating toast. I tell him it's because I'm poor and can't afford food, but it's not. I just like toast. Not as much as I've been eating it, mind, but I do like it.
Anyway... I can't put myself down anymore. I can't think of a number 7. Some people would say that keeping a blog for two years for somebody else would be a classic sign of a breakdown and a great number seven, but I'm not convinced.
This post is all going to be about me, because he (and many others) have claimed I might be having a mental breakdown. He wants me to list the reasons (proof) he thinks it's happening. So here we go;
1) I say and do things and then can't remember doing them. The other day at work when my manager was serving a customer, I was sitting with my back to them. They were about to buy a £10,000 kitchen which I had booked the appointment for. I was just browsing the computer, while she worked her magic and then they left happily. As soon as they'd gone, she turned to me and started laughing. I asked why and she said that it was because I had been making high pitched bird noises. I genuinely can't remember doing this. She had to pretend it was perfectly normal so that the customers thought I was a "special child" (spastic). I got home and told Euan about this and he said I do it all of the time. Luckily my darling girlfriend was there to back me up... but she didn't. She sided with him.
2) I can't be alone. If I am alone for a few minutes, I'll put music or podcasts on. Usually podcasts. I even listen to them when I am in bed. Ill be lying there next to my girlfriend speaking and keeping her awake with my antics and she'll get annoyed. So she puts my headphones in and I giggle myself to sleep with my "podcasts friends" who I'll never meet.
I've even been known to refuse to eat because people wont come across the street with me to get food.
3) I deliberately leave my keys in the flat, so I have to do the buzzer and get to see Euan's wee face.
4)I've got a hair style now. Never before have I had a style. I've always had hair (never had cancer, yet (fingers crossed)), but it's always been just that. Hair sitting on my head. Recently, I've had a lesbian come around and shape it into hair shape. It's nice I guess, but I usually want it cut when I realise I'm in my 20s now and need to "grow up". Well listen up, squares, I stopped growing physically when I was 14 and mentally AGES ago; so don't hold out hope for my growing up any time soon, whatever it means.
5) I need daily reassurance that Euan is my friend. I mean, he's been at my side (equally) for 17 years now, but I still need him to tell me he is my friend.
6) I can't stop eating toast. I tell him it's because I'm poor and can't afford food, but it's not. I just like toast. Not as much as I've been eating it, mind, but I do like it.
Anyway... I can't put myself down anymore. I can't think of a number 7. Some people would say that keeping a blog for two years for somebody else would be a classic sign of a breakdown and a great number seven, but I'm not convinced.
The End is Nigh'
Euan is threatening to move out. I don't know what to do. I'm lost and genuinely confused. Who'll walk to the shops with me? Or hold my hand when I'm scared? Or be sarcastic whenever I speak?
It all started this morning. He had lots of weird dreams last night, but the weirdest one was him going on an erasmus exchange to Barcelona. He thinks he's going to do it next year and then he says he probably wont come back. It's the end of an era. Admittedly, there is still like 7 months until the end of the uni year, but I miss the little idiot already.
Little things I'll miss;
1) He is hungry just now, but every time I say "shall we go out for some munch?" he says "yeah, the post office. I've got parcels to get". I'm all like; "get some lunch on the way" and he just keeps going; "pick up my parcels, lick a stamp"
2) I can't speak without him being passive aggressive for no reason.
3) He's friendly and buys me boosts, sometimes (rarely)
4) He always watched anime and plays games that are like 20 years old, and thinks they're good, just because they're old. Well they're not. They're rubbish.
I don't have a number five, because he's not that great.
He said today that if I ever get famous and really rich, he wont let me make him do things for money. I'm still on track to get him living in a small metal box for a day, but he's trying to ruin my fun and I don't know why.
Anyway, he's hungry. So I need to go and put some food down for him.
It all started this morning. He had lots of weird dreams last night, but the weirdest one was him going on an erasmus exchange to Barcelona. He thinks he's going to do it next year and then he says he probably wont come back. It's the end of an era. Admittedly, there is still like 7 months until the end of the uni year, but I miss the little idiot already.
Little things I'll miss;
1) He is hungry just now, but every time I say "shall we go out for some munch?" he says "yeah, the post office. I've got parcels to get". I'm all like; "get some lunch on the way" and he just keeps going; "pick up my parcels, lick a stamp"
2) I can't speak without him being passive aggressive for no reason.
3) He's friendly and buys me boosts, sometimes (rarely)
4) He always watched anime and plays games that are like 20 years old, and thinks they're good, just because they're old. Well they're not. They're rubbish.
I don't have a number five, because he's not that great.
He said today that if I ever get famous and really rich, he wont let me make him do things for money. I'm still on track to get him living in a small metal box for a day, but he's trying to ruin my fun and I don't know why.
Anyway, he's hungry. So I need to go and put some food down for him.
Tuesday, 19 October 2010
Pyramid Boy
Euan's got a new thing. A new little quirk, you could say. It's something that he started doing a year ago, but found today and started adding to and changing. I could keep describing it without saying what it is, but this ambiguity is starting to confuse me, too.
He draws all of his friends.
I left that sentence on it's own, so it sets in better. Read it again... am I the only one that thinks that that is a really weird? He has literally drawn all of his friends in a pyramid with him on the top, reaching into the sky. I should be flattered, I am drawn on his right hand side (as his right hand man, get it?) but slightly beneath him (like he's pissing on me, get it?).
When I asked how everyone is placed, he said it's hierarchical. Then he mumbled something about me being right handed, and because I'm on the right hand side it'd be hard for me to give him a hand shandy (the same is true for Liam on the left hand side, being left handed). As if I would even want to.
There were a few people who had to be deleted from the friend's pyramid (sorry Rachel (you brought it on yourself really (slag))), but I can't mention who they are. he also refused to delete Lisa Stott, which confused me a lot. Then again, she was right at the bottom of the pyramid, so we'd have no support if he removed her.
He's only done a rough outline for the pyramid so far, but will be posting it online soon. So watch this space and you'll see that this is all 100% true.
This is so mental, I couldn't have made it up. Then again, none of this is made up, so we're safe.
He draws all of his friends.
I left that sentence on it's own, so it sets in better. Read it again... am I the only one that thinks that that is a really weird? He has literally drawn all of his friends in a pyramid with him on the top, reaching into the sky. I should be flattered, I am drawn on his right hand side (as his right hand man, get it?) but slightly beneath him (like he's pissing on me, get it?).
When I asked how everyone is placed, he said it's hierarchical. Then he mumbled something about me being right handed, and because I'm on the right hand side it'd be hard for me to give him a hand shandy (the same is true for Liam on the left hand side, being left handed). As if I would even want to.
There were a few people who had to be deleted from the friend's pyramid (sorry Rachel (you brought it on yourself really (slag))), but I can't mention who they are. he also refused to delete Lisa Stott, which confused me a lot. Then again, she was right at the bottom of the pyramid, so we'd have no support if he removed her.
He's only done a rough outline for the pyramid so far, but will be posting it online soon. So watch this space and you'll see that this is all 100% true.
This is so mental, I couldn't have made it up. Then again, none of this is made up, so we're safe.
Monday, 18 October 2010
Euan's Dreams
This is a really weird post. I wish I could say it wasn't 100% true, accurate and reflective of Euan's life and social class, but it is. I'm sorry if anyone out there is freaked out by it... I most certainly am.
Euan told me today about his glasses. I've never seen him wearing glasses before, so I thought it was a load of shit, but supposedly it's not. Euan wore glasses for years, until he discovered contact lenses. I really don't know how I missed this.
Even although he has glasses, he isn't specky. Just in the same way that some people without glasses just have a specky face.
I asked him why he hasn't worn glasses for ages and he said that "since his accident" he has always worn contact lenses. He told me it was easy, because you just "pop them in and change them once a month". At this point I knew he's tripped up. I was all "you need to take them out at night, you foolish fool" and then he said the weirdest thing I've ever heard;
"Not if you want to read in your dreams" ... I know... "I tried to sleep without them in and then kept dying in my dreams. I must have been walking past all of the 'hazardous wasteground' signs, because my eyes were so bad I never saw them. So now I just wear them when I'm sleeping and I see fine in my dreams"
Nice one, Euan. Even in your deepest dreams (where you can do or be ANYTHING), you're shit at something. I once dreamt I was God. Let's compare these aspirations.
Poor Euan.
ps; post "specky" on his wall.
Euan told me today about his glasses. I've never seen him wearing glasses before, so I thought it was a load of shit, but supposedly it's not. Euan wore glasses for years, until he discovered contact lenses. I really don't know how I missed this.
Even although he has glasses, he isn't specky. Just in the same way that some people without glasses just have a specky face.
I asked him why he hasn't worn glasses for ages and he said that "since his accident" he has always worn contact lenses. He told me it was easy, because you just "pop them in and change them once a month". At this point I knew he's tripped up. I was all "you need to take them out at night, you foolish fool" and then he said the weirdest thing I've ever heard;
"Not if you want to read in your dreams" ... I know... "I tried to sleep without them in and then kept dying in my dreams. I must have been walking past all of the 'hazardous wasteground' signs, because my eyes were so bad I never saw them. So now I just wear them when I'm sleeping and I see fine in my dreams"
Nice one, Euan. Even in your deepest dreams (where you can do or be ANYTHING), you're shit at something. I once dreamt I was God. Let's compare these aspirations.
Poor Euan.
ps; post "specky" on his wall.
Sunday, 17 October 2010
Euan's Latest Council Letter
Dear Council,
I was walking down one of your roads recently (not in the middle of it, you idiot) and
I noticed something peculiar. My shoes, although made of wood, metal and rubber,
do not work like a car. I even tried rubbing my shoes on the road to see and they’re
definitely not a car. They had no traction or engine or everything!
My complain to you, Mr Council of Council lane, is that I cannot find the place Usain
Islam Bolt bought his shoes. They must be council shoes, because of the shit quality,
but I cannot find them anywhere. Could you please send me a free pair of shoes to
make up for the rubbery clogs I wasted on your motorway.
Thank you,
hugs and lovers,
Euan Richard Menzies.
What can I say... Euan is ill.
I was walking down one of your roads recently (not in the middle of it, you idiot) and
I noticed something peculiar. My shoes, although made of wood, metal and rubber,
do not work like a car. I even tried rubbing my shoes on the road to see and they’re
definitely not a car. They had no traction or engine or everything!
My complain to you, Mr Council of Council lane, is that I cannot find the place Usain
Islam Bolt bought his shoes. They must be council shoes, because of the shit quality,
but I cannot find them anywhere. Could you please send me a free pair of shoes to
make up for the rubbery clogs I wasted on your motorway.
Thank you,
hugs and lovers,
Euan Richard Menzies.
What can I say... Euan is ill.
Saturday, 16 October 2010
Euan and Caffeine
Euan has a small addiction. It's not as bad as smoking, but it's still bad for his health. Euan is addicted to caffeine and not even in the cool, French, sitting outside a coffee shop doing a sketch way. His addiction to caffeine is more the type where you bulk buy coke (coca cola, not the devil's dandruff) during the day, then go out all night (I genuinely don't know where he goes, so I wont speculate. I couldn't say for sure that he hires rent boys and has sex with them, or that he works as a male stripper... I just couldn't say).
Every time I see him these days, he just complains about having too much caffeine. He says he needs it because he is always tired from his severe lack of sleep. I've tried to explain to him that going cold turkey and coming clean from his addiction means that he will be able to sleep better at nights, but he doesn't believe me. It's a vicious circle (like an AIDs infested anus) and he can't escape it.
The worst part about his addiction is that he gets really down because of it. When he's high, he feels on top of the worst - cracking wise and being the funniest, nicest person you'll ever meet. Sadly when he's low, he really is low - he barely speaks, except to claim somebody has stolen his "baby" and he cries (oh how he cries).
It's a horrible thing to watch. I think that everybody could help him by posting "give it up, Euan" on his facebook wall. It's the only way we can help him.
ps; I'm sorry if this one sounds really sad, it's just that it is.
Every time I see him these days, he just complains about having too much caffeine. He says he needs it because he is always tired from his severe lack of sleep. I've tried to explain to him that going cold turkey and coming clean from his addiction means that he will be able to sleep better at nights, but he doesn't believe me. It's a vicious circle (like an AIDs infested anus) and he can't escape it.
The worst part about his addiction is that he gets really down because of it. When he's high, he feels on top of the worst - cracking wise and being the funniest, nicest person you'll ever meet. Sadly when he's low, he really is low - he barely speaks, except to claim somebody has stolen his "baby" and he cries (oh how he cries).
It's a horrible thing to watch. I think that everybody could help him by posting "give it up, Euan" on his facebook wall. It's the only way we can help him.
ps; I'm sorry if this one sounds really sad, it's just that it is.
Friday, 15 October 2010
Ace is Base
Euan has always been a huge Ace of Base fan, so when they released "All that She Wants" in early 1993, Euan was ecstatic.
I never knew that there was anything bad that could be done with that song, but when I woke up this morning, he was listening to it on Discover Radio and had made up his own, deplorable lyrics;
All that she wants, is another baby,
she lost her first one.
All that she wants, is another baby,
stillborn.
I think this is disgusting. To prove a point, we should all post "Stillborn" on Euan's wall. I'll start it off.
Thanks for all fighting the good fight.
I found more of his council letters, they will follow soon!
I never knew that there was anything bad that could be done with that song, but when I woke up this morning, he was listening to it on Discover Radio and had made up his own, deplorable lyrics;
All that she wants, is another baby,
she lost her first one.
All that she wants, is another baby,
stillborn.
I think this is disgusting. To prove a point, we should all post "Stillborn" on Euan's wall. I'll start it off.
Thanks for all fighting the good fight.
I found more of his council letters, they will follow soon!
Thursday, 14 October 2010
An Answer To Eefan
This is an answer to;
http://paulhaditcoming.blogspot.com/
I hope everyone understands. Here is my brief disclaimer before I start, because that is supposedly how everything needs to be written now.
This is entirely factual. All characters are real. Euan is Euan (a paranoid mental who often loses grip with reality) and I am I (a passive observer who tries to cheer him up).
Disclaimer done. On with the blog.
Euan wrote a letter to the council recently about music in shops. Here it is;
Dear Council (or more accurately, council worker. I don't understand why we refer to everybody with a job in the private as the council. That'd be crazy),
I am writing a complaint letter, as you can see. I was in one of your shops recently (today). I don't want to say what one it was, cause Ann Summers' bum fun section would sue me for libel.
While walking through this council owned shop, I realised that there aren't enough man bum toys. You get lots of toys for "clit action", but I don't have a clit (Honestly, I looked for it) and I don't know what bit of my body to rub. I asked the council who was walking the floor and she said she knew where the man clit was, but refused to touch mine.
I've also got into the habit of asking people to "enjoy a load of this", which the council behind the till didn't seem to happy about, when I whipped my willy out and tried to use it as a check.
The council just looked at me and slapped me on the willy. This is assault (not the one in the sea or on my chips). I was very annoyed at the council and decided to write this letter. However there is one more straw that broke my back (I am in a wheelchair now). As she was tending too my wounds (not in a sexual way) by applying a plaster with her mouth, the council never once made eye contact with me. I always say to my girlfriend (she is in a jar) that when putting a plaster on with her mouth, she needs to not bite me.
Long story short, I think you may have sold my penis as a sex toy. It was lying about the council store and when I came back to collect it, I was handed a dildo instead. I thought it was a joke, but the council in charge of lost property genuinely thought it was mine. I can't pee now without going on vibrate.
Love (and general annoyance),
Euan Richard Menzies.
You read it here first, unless you work for the council.
Sorry guys.
http://paulhaditcoming.blogspot.com/
I hope everyone understands. Here is my brief disclaimer before I start, because that is supposedly how everything needs to be written now.
This is entirely factual. All characters are real. Euan is Euan (a paranoid mental who often loses grip with reality) and I am I (a passive observer who tries to cheer him up).
Disclaimer done. On with the blog.
Euan wrote a letter to the council recently about music in shops. Here it is;
Dear Council (or more accurately, council worker. I don't understand why we refer to everybody with a job in the private as the council. That'd be crazy),
I am writing a complaint letter, as you can see. I was in one of your shops recently (today). I don't want to say what one it was, cause Ann Summers' bum fun section would sue me for libel.
While walking through this council owned shop, I realised that there aren't enough man bum toys. You get lots of toys for "clit action", but I don't have a clit (Honestly, I looked for it) and I don't know what bit of my body to rub. I asked the council who was walking the floor and she said she knew where the man clit was, but refused to touch mine.
I've also got into the habit of asking people to "enjoy a load of this", which the council behind the till didn't seem to happy about, when I whipped my willy out and tried to use it as a check.
The council just looked at me and slapped me on the willy. This is assault (not the one in the sea or on my chips). I was very annoyed at the council and decided to write this letter. However there is one more straw that broke my back (I am in a wheelchair now). As she was tending too my wounds (not in a sexual way) by applying a plaster with her mouth, the council never once made eye contact with me. I always say to my girlfriend (she is in a jar) that when putting a plaster on with her mouth, she needs to not bite me.
Long story short, I think you may have sold my penis as a sex toy. It was lying about the council store and when I came back to collect it, I was handed a dildo instead. I thought it was a joke, but the council in charge of lost property genuinely thought it was mine. I can't pee now without going on vibrate.
Love (and general annoyance),
Euan Richard Menzies.
You read it here first, unless you work for the council.
Sorry guys.
The Rabbit Incident
Euan’s been having a hard time recently. He hasn’t said anything to me (other than how much he loves me, obviously), but I know this because he’s been smiling, happy, laughing hysterically and wanking too much. A clear sign that something is wrong.
Today he had a real cry for help that really proves everything I’ve just been saying. He come home from uni, had a nice little game on the Wii with me and then went to buy some food. That might seem normal, but he bought me a boost and I just can’t condone that.
He told me a story today about how he is stuck between time lines; “If you delete your reason for going back in time, then you’re stuck there. Floating in space without a place, cause you belong nowhere… if you delete your time line. Then he comes back and annoys you when you’re annoying people”. I don’t know what he is talking about either.
Euan also told me today that he wants to buy gauntlets. I didn’t even think they made them anymore. He says you can get some online, that have “cool spikes” up them. I really don’t know what to do for him. His mental breakdown is really sad to watch. It’s like that time in my car when I hit a rabbit. I got really upset and had to get out of the car and move the poor, limp idiot of an ex-rabbit. Euan was in the car with me and got out and tried to kick the poor little bugger. He kicked it so hard that the head came off, which must’ve been hard, because my car at 60mph never managed it. On one hand, I was proud that he has finally managed the kick his Dad always shouted at him to get during Sunday Football League. (which he did for three years (11-14 (he was a late bloomer who never really ever bloomed)))
So yeah, I think we should all do something nice for Euan. If everyone goes onto his Facebook and just posts “cheer up” it’d mean a lot to him and to me, but mostly to him.
Today he had a real cry for help that really proves everything I’ve just been saying. He come home from uni, had a nice little game on the Wii with me and then went to buy some food. That might seem normal, but he bought me a boost and I just can’t condone that.
He told me a story today about how he is stuck between time lines; “If you delete your reason for going back in time, then you’re stuck there. Floating in space without a place, cause you belong nowhere… if you delete your time line. Then he comes back and annoys you when you’re annoying people”. I don’t know what he is talking about either.
Euan also told me today that he wants to buy gauntlets. I didn’t even think they made them anymore. He says you can get some online, that have “cool spikes” up them. I really don’t know what to do for him. His mental breakdown is really sad to watch. It’s like that time in my car when I hit a rabbit. I got really upset and had to get out of the car and move the poor, limp idiot of an ex-rabbit. Euan was in the car with me and got out and tried to kick the poor little bugger. He kicked it so hard that the head came off, which must’ve been hard, because my car at 60mph never managed it. On one hand, I was proud that he has finally managed the kick his Dad always shouted at him to get during Sunday Football League. (which he did for three years (11-14 (he was a late bloomer who never really ever bloomed)))
So yeah, I think we should all do something nice for Euan. If everyone goes onto his Facebook and just posts “cheer up” it’d mean a lot to him and to me, but mostly to him.
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
Euan Wrote The Deeatribe
There’s been a fair bit of controversy around the Union recently, and it’s all because of this “Deeatribe”. I want to come clean now. I know who did it and his name is Euan Menzies. Here is my proof;
1) Euan was born in June and is therefore a Gemini, making him incredibly untrustworthy and sneaky.
2) He has gimpy hair which is just slightly (far) too long. He tried to his face, because he is guilty about his deeatribe.
3) He once threw a cat into a bin.
4) I’m being told by a reliable source (a relative of his) that he once bullied a girl until she killed herself. No wait, it might’ve been a caterpillar, or a bit of dust.
5) He’s disgustingly pessimistic about everything, even his own existence.
6) I saw him do it. Swear down. No lies… he was definitely doing something that involved a laptop and it wasn’t porn, cause it was sitting at a normal angle on his lap.
For more evidence, just message me or ask Euan why he did it.
As the next stage in the toture of Euan Menzies, just comment “Deeatribe” on his Facebook wall. If you don't, then you might be gay (science says so).
1) Euan was born in June and is therefore a Gemini, making him incredibly untrustworthy and sneaky.
2) He has gimpy hair which is just slightly (far) too long. He tried to his face, because he is guilty about his deeatribe.
3) He once threw a cat into a bin.
4) I’m being told by a reliable source (a relative of his) that he once bullied a girl until she killed herself. No wait, it might’ve been a caterpillar, or a bit of dust.
5) He’s disgustingly pessimistic about everything, even his own existence.
6) I saw him do it. Swear down. No lies… he was definitely doing something that involved a laptop and it wasn’t porn, cause it was sitting at a normal angle on his lap.
For more evidence, just message me or ask Euan why he did it.
As the next stage in the toture of Euan Menzies, just comment “Deeatribe” on his Facebook wall. If you don't, then you might be gay (science says so).
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