If a blog itself could get PTSD then was given free reign to a box of chocolates filled with statues

Allow me to illuminate you all on the ongoings of my life since last time I ventured forth into the fiery waters of bloggery in the good ship Truth-Bomb. Twas the year of September last year.
Since then it's been my birthday and Christmas, now it's May next year. I've upgraded from Smirnoff to Five vodka, which has a corked bottle so I presume it's higher quality
Now you're up to date.

So I had a dream the other night where someone I know (who shall remain a nonny mouse - which incidentally is the name of a poetry book i was once shown when i was about 5 in school). was driving around in a super sports car with only two tyres and he was like follow me but i was like okay and i have a flat tyre! Elements of the story are missing.

So I recently looked into moving back out into Brighton or Hove so I can live the zany bohemian lifestyle everyone down there clearly lives 24/8, but ran into a problem. If you're a long-time reader of these, you'll remember that I used to live down there for a bit a few years ago and had a decent-sized studio flat for £500 a month. NOW I'll be looking at paying out way more money for a place literally the size of a kitchen.



SO instead of paying a fortune to live in a cupboard I'm seriously considering this lifestyle instead
I men what's not to love. It's sunny, I can ride a horse about and finally make use of that holster I bought last year and probably be able to buy a mansion in Texas or wherever!

What's probably influenced this is my revived love of country music! I've gotten fully into some Townes Van Zandt recently, as well as George Strait, Chris Stapleton, Johnny Cash and many others!


When not listening to country music and wondering whether to invest in a lasso and ass-less leather chaps, I've also been enjoying the Biggie Smallz/Thomas the Tank Engine mashup and the Lazytown Dank edition.

I'll do my best to get back on these in the regular, but frankly I'm not some overly-friendly youtuber/blogger who needs followers because they don't have an actual job/self-respect, so whether or not you read this makes very little difference to me. #dropsmic

Mrer Mrer Mrer?

Okay so where to starr?
I think the last time I posted on this was about some magical adventure about a matronly character or something but let's be honest I dont have the tme to go back and check!

That was back in June and frankly it's the least inportant month of the year, even worse than May! A poor man's July, if you will!
Now it is September, turning to October, and it's bvegun to be Authumn here. Where is here? Why in England, f course! I dot know what's happened since last I posted but if this is your only source of local news then where the hell do you live?

I've recenrly become aware that my actual job should be a singer on the london underground, only recently I lit up the Northern Line all the way to Collier's Wood! People were singing along and making requests (for me to stop) all the way! Along with some pals, we sang to some great hiots by Queen, Elbvis and the Bare Necessities.

Now it's Tuesday night and I've drank half a bottole of Kirsch which is some german brandy and tastest of a bit of cherrys but is much stronger than I remember from when I last drank it.

my DVD of Zodiac arrived, which I watched recently with a friend and I found it jumps around a lot and I was able to increase the enjoyment by narating what was actually going on throughout the whole film, like my friend does when he recites the entire script of Nightmare Before Christmas.The whole bit where he ties up the students then stabs them brutally to death made me cringe!....the Zodiax killer that is, not my friend....But maybe they'er one in the same?!

So I watched Se7en recently too, and I came away with the idea that Gwynneth Paltrow framed Kevin Spacey in it as the killer. And I'm not even talking about the film, I mean in real life. Also is she the Zodiac?

Listen to the song Telstar. If it doesn't make you think of like a magical unicorn flying through space and time then you're not experiencing it correctly in my mind.

So it was the Burgess Hill bonfire night again and this time I remembered to stay off the Waltzer at the fun fayre. They may spin it very fast but it always leads to massive neck-ache and that damage to your neck I cant remember at this time but I'm sure if I said it you'd know ti, know wham sayin'?

I've started an Instagram account too. I used to think it was just a thing for people who had the wrong assumption that taking a photo and adding a pointless filter made them a photographer or an artist, and now I have adopted it ironically....or have I? Nah but mine is mainly old buildings.

That's all for now bye

This is Tom Petty - unrelated

Part 3, where the mystery and plot comes as close as it's going to to developing - and we discover who's mum is a slag

As I stepped out into the street and looked around for Salmonella (my eyes lingered on the Johns Brothers' Raw Chicken Guzzle Shack across the road) and saw the hem of her skirts disappear around a bend in the road. I pursued as fast as my legs could carry me and soon came face to face with Old Father Boa, who was the local preacherman and occasional crossdresser - who my expert eye assessed was wearing enormous skirts that was just of a similar fashion to Mrs Bathwater's own. I was understandably perturbed so backed away slowly...right into the arms of a shadowy figure dressed in rags who let out a grumbling moan! A zombie!

Okay so it wasn't a zombie. It was a lost pensioner who had been wandering the streets since the early hours and who was more or less agreeable to the idea of accompanying me on my adventure to find Mrs Bathwater. He had raggedy flared trousers and big circular glasses like what John Lennon wears in those photos where he's scowling - you know the one. He also had long grey hair and a jacket made of hemp, he was a right flower child. He said I could call him Elderflower and I could tell just from looking at him that he had some fabulous stories - that I had no interest in hearing. Also he smelled of the drugs.

So Elderflower and I were walking down the street and there's still no sign of Salmonella anywhere but I am growing uneasy because i know a woman that size doesn't just disappear into thin air, more likely she disappears into an all-night cake shop. I was aware that that's probably not a thing so we walked until we reached the edge of town. Elderflower began whooping and chanting and dancing round a tree, so as I got ready to put his lead back on and walked over to him, I noticed on the tree someone had scratched a message into the bark - Apparently José's mum is a slag. But below that message was ANOTHER message! It read:

Bring a thousand 'dollerydoos' to 129 Old Hill Road by midnight or SB gets the shit beaten out of here. Message is continued on next tree'

Elderflower cocked his head at me and I scratched my chin in contemplation. I knew dollerydoos was Australian for pounds sterling, but where would I get some dollerydoos at this time of night?

The Family Friendly Adventures of Salmonella Bathwater

As Mrs Bathwater stepped into the crowded hubbub of the bar, we were all spellbound - and not only because it wasn't even ladies night. She had an oily reputation about the town for being the sternest governess ever known. It was said she had once ruled over the well posh FitzMcSmythly household like a cross between Margaret Thatcher, that woman who always wore pink in Harry Potter but I've forgotten her name, and Wolverine (but from one of the films where he's at the top of his game, not like in Logan when he's short-sighted and coughing up a lot of blood). She had a hairdo that looked as unyielding as steel wool and eyes that looked like they might turn into werewolf eyes at any moment and she would attack with vicious claws. But, as a governess she was generally safe around children.
Anyway you may be thinking - well who the hell is telling this story, this ain't not 1st or 3rd person narrated bullshit. Well you'd be right, this is 2nd person, like Sherlock Holmes, but I ain't no John Watson I guess you could call me Marshmallow Buttercream, as that is my name. I'm a regular here at the pub and apart from a tequila sunrise my one love is my good woman, Ironica McManus. She's a fine woman, and hairy as they come!
But anyway I was melodorisising about Mrs Bathwater and as she was talking whilst I gave you my life story.
"Keep it down with the life story over there, Buttercream, I am trying to advance the plot!" she cried.
Clearly it was time to listen in!

No...no we missed it. Sorry about that. She came in briefly and waved some paper around and now she's stormed out. Bloody hell now we'll be playing catch-up with the plot for a while I guess.
Let's go outside, oh it's snowing now. It was sunny when I walked in, but that was a couple of months ago and we are in that country where the weather might change, u don't need me to tell you which one.

Let's follow Ms Bathwater and find out where she's off to in such a hurry!

The Adventures of Salmonella Bathwater - Part 1 - An Evil Smell in the Filthy Mistress

She entered the room and immediately the music stopped and all heads turned to regard her with the air of a bunch of people in a bar thinking hey who the hell is that woman?
But I already knew her. Or so I thought.

She might have just looked like someone I knew.

But it turned out then it was actually someone I knew. I think.

The bartender was wiping a dirty cup with a crusty rag and had a glass eye rolling playfully around in his face whilst the other one was covered by a roguish eye-patch. He was a total dreamboat, even though he rarely got your drinks order correct. His name was Charles McCohan and he had tales of the sea from his days adventuring and plundering lots of booty as a sophisticated oceanographer on his prize steam-yacht the Filthy Mistress. He had an anchor tatoo on his forearm so you knew he was legit.His favorite song was Sailor's Hornpipe by Henry Wood, and he knew all the words from all the songs from Muppets Treasure Island.

But anyway this lady had just barged her way unceremoniously into the bar and basically she didn't look impressed. Perhaps she'd spotted the neon signs to the ladies room that just said 'GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS' and wasn't necessarily directing ladies to a toilet. Or perhaps she'd spotted the hole in the roof, that was only there to help dispell the fumes from José's up-and-coming meth lab that Charles McCohan had allowed him to set up in the hope of finding a cure for having a glass eye (but secretly José was just cooking meth and calling everyone a bitch, like he'd seen on the telly). I think was appalled her the most was seeing that what Charles claimed was prosecco on tap was actually just fizzy water mixed with chewed up refreshers.

So as the last majestic bars of Smell Yo Dick by Riskay faded away, there she stood in the doorway, her shoes reflecting the light from the fire that was burning merrily in the corner (much to the chargin of José, who was off his tits on fumes anyhow so don't dwell on it). Her hair was tied in a tight bun that pulled the skin on her face back into a rictus grin that was like Jared Leto's Joker but less disappointing, whilst her big manly hands were wrapped around the strap of her big hooker-sized handbag. Also she had a coat on - probably because it was spitting out.

Before she said anything I could tell live was never going to be the same again, because Mrs Salmonella Bathwater was back in town - like the Boys in a Thin Lizzy song,

Happy New Year! And Christmas! And other days!

Here's a run-down of what I've been up to since November, minus anything I haven't put.

I drank a beer.

I am still trying to work out if Twitter is the most pointless thing in my day. I basically just have it for Simpsons Quote of the Day. I mean I follow Trump but it's not even as amusing as the media makes out! It's basically just him saying how great everything is going, with millions of replies that end up making me hate the humans.

I got asked why I am angry at British politics. Keep reading to find out - or read many of my past blogs.

I watched 50 Shades of Grey. I had the same sort of reaction to this 'romance' storyline as I did when I was watching the whole Twilight storything, as in there's not a lot of action in this. Apart from when he 'fucks hard' of course. Trolls was much better.

I still have not downloaded an update for Quicktime. And I never will, I dont even know what it is.


What other shocking things would you like to hear about?

Well I have not done one of these blog posts since November 2016 so perhaps some stuff has changed since then, not much for the better but I mean at least I don't have to see the news coming from the White House from anywhere in America, I mean I will be when Theresa May sells the rights of British citizens to Trump in exchange for a handjob and 5 minutes of sucking on his quiff behind the bicycle sheds in her desperate bid to be friends with that maniac. I was asked a while ago if I had a gun with one bullet and was in a room with both of them, what would you do. I replied that I'd shoot Trump because May looked easier to beat to death with the gun but. But of course I missed the obvious answer of making them stand in a row - god knows even a low-calibre bullet would go through the yawning chasm between Trump's ears and straight into the poisonous meat of May's brain, where it would no doubt melt in her acid blood. I guess you could lure Trump into position by drawing a fanny on one of the walls or something.

I've listened to some Townes Van Zandt lately. He was an American country musician but he's dead now. It's some good stuff. But you can't beat 'Zat You Santa Claus' by Louis Armstrong, whatever the time of year! the Bare Necessities is also a tune, I like to listen to it while I scratch against trees.

I'm doing a charity 26-mile hike in June. Please give money or I will regret it more than I already do. https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/emilyjacksarah?utm_id=13 - there is a link, please use it

So I binge-watched all of House, and I see what people say that all the episodes are basically same and yeah, a lot of them basically are! But the bigger problem I saw, especially in the latter series' is that he's basically an addict for a puzzle - and they just take it so mentally far. I'm surprised they didn't end it with a patient who was being uncooperative for some obscure reason, or who had a family who wanted to be as big a pain in the arse as possible, would only tell House what he needed to save their ungrateful life if he cut his own head off first - for reasons! and he'd bloody do it and all, just to show he was addicted to puzzles!
I mean overall I did enjoy it though!

Despite my clear reasoning about why pets are essentially slaves that don't do any work in my last blog (shameless self-plugging - make sure you read LET THY WORDS BE FURIOUS - great free advertisement, actually I don't really care if you read this, as I've said I only started this blog to take the piss out of my friend's blog about feelings and I don't get paid so read it or wipe ur arse on it...I mean that would be a bit of an own goal as you'd have to clean ur tablet, phone or computer monitor afterwards but yeah I just get a high off viewing figures, and before you think that might be an innuendo, it could work as one I guess!) anyway so yeah I was talking about pets and some people have said YOU'RE WRONG, MY CAT LOVES ME!!!!
They don't. You're in denial.

The Party's Over

When I say that I mean I thought about creating a political party recently. Can you get ultra-liberals?
I mean the constant upset as a liberal-minded fellow is you're constantly like omg that politician is so annoying I wish someone would just assassinate him - but then you have to catch yourself and be like oh shit no wait would that be in keeping with my liberal views?

Psycho right-wingers dont need doubts like that they be like "awww shiiitttt I'mma blow him up,
aheheh".

Can you affect real change by playing by the rules?
The rules are there to make sure the people with the money stay in charge.

The problem with a phrase such as Make America Great Again or the more humdrum British equivalent we had over here when Brexit was in the news, is that we are in a slump now and we could be as great as we once more. But when people look to the past they gloss over the bad parts like - to name a few, when women couldn't vote, or when homosexuality was a criminal offence, and look through rose-tinted lenses.

What is the point of freedom of the press when it is owned by billionaires? It has become a mouthpiece for their agendas.
Then what is the point of democracy when the people don't understand the issues, or don't care?

One of the most irritating things is how people have substituted action for opinion. Why march on the establishment when you can get 1000 views on Youtube? If those 1000 people are sitting watching your terribly life-affirming video that is guaranteed to make your jaw drop or some shit like that, then they are not fighting the injustice in this community, they are merely observing.
Sharing an opinion will a million people now is easy, in this age of the internet. But if you get bombarded by a million opinions you cannot value them. Take them all with a grain of salt.
When Michael Gove claimed that the people 'had had enough of experts' then if that was true it showed that the people are fucking idiots and their opinions are damaging, and they probably wouldn't even appreciate it.
When someone can broadcast their opinions to a huge audience they imagine that their opinion is actually valuable, when in reality if you know nothing about a subject your opinion is worthless. Hence Brexit, earlier this year. If I lived in a house with ten dogs, for instance, I am in charge but why would I ask the dogs which car I should buy? (This is assuming they could talk)

Speaking of animals I saw one of my friends who is a fanatic animal lover, posted something on Facebook that I found so distressing I blocked it in the end. Basically a dog-owner had put their dog up for adoption to a loving home because they were expecting a baby (presumably they were pregnant, not just waiting for the post) and the abuse this lady was getting from this 'animal-lovers' was appalling. They were upset because she was choosing her unborn baby over her pet.
Now don't get me wrong I understand the attachment one can feel towards a family pet, I have a cat and a dog. But this person was trying to make sure their pet was going to be taken care of because they were afraid they wouldn't be able to give it the care it deserved once their baby was born and from the responses you would think they were trying to sell it for meat.
Some women told the expectant mother that, and i paraphrase, if she had kept her 'whore legs' shut she wouldn't be in this predicament.
What is wrong with these people? I love animals and I don't want to see anyone abuse them, obviously. But that's not what was going on here. She wasn't saying - does anyone want some dog-meat and an Alsatian pelt? We have a baby on the way so have decided to slaughter the dog!
No, she advertised the dog to a loving home and gave, in my own opinion, a good reason for doing so!
I do like pets but if you pretend they're anything other than part decorative ornament and part prisoner, you are delusional.
Also people who fool themselves into thinking their pets would give two shits about them if they didn't provide food daily are silly. If you met in the wild they would run away from you or attack you. You have destroyed their natural instincts and converted them into just a plaything you use to cheer yourself up if you've had a bad day.
I'm not saying you can't have pets, but don't act like they're your friend for any real reason or post endless pictures of your 'bae' being happy to see you - of course they're happy to see you, or they will starve to death as you've locked them in a house all day.


I heard a theory that the idea of superheroes was created in order to set in peoples' minds that they themselves would not have to fight for justice because they could read or watch a superhero do it instead.
Batman, Superman, Spiderman, Ironman. They are all fictional. In real life they are not fighting crime. In a way they have become a tool of the corrupt.

My j-key on my keyboard is really sticky from when I spilt vodka all over it.

Have a great day. Fight for what you want to happen and respect your pets for the fine-tuned killing machines they should be.

This is what a pet should look like.