Monday, May 19, 2008


I've been surrounded by a lot of of disturbing phenomena in the last few days. Whenever I think of any of the following things that I've encountered, I feel a bit queasy.

1. I was informed by the mother in law that she was sat next to R*ger at lunch after a bowls do, and a bogey was dangling from his nostril, on her side.

2. The infamous Amy 'n' Pete 'n' baby mice video. "Wow! Look at the veins, you can see the blood pumping round the body!"

3. We watched a film called Hukkle which follows the *daily* life of some residents of a Hungarian village. Truly fucking disturbing. A toothless, permanently grinning, walnut faced old bloke has very annoying hiccups and reappears throughout, sat in front of a cottage. A pig with testicles the size of punch bags mounts a sow as a (human) couple look on in a state of satisfaction, having a celebratory drink. At a gathering of villagers at a meal a woman prepares a plate of (bleugh) pureed chicken for a man in dungarees who presumably couldn't be bothered to wear his dentures. Bleugh, BLEUGH. PUREED CHICKEN.

4. The story on the Holy Moly Mailout about Amanda Holden and Les Dennis. Probably freaked me out even more than the previous three.

We're living through the final days on this earth. Only Tom Cruise can save us, but I don't want to think of his maniacal, grinning face, because I'll start bawling.

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Not even Jerry Springer could have predicted this.
Amy, Amy, Amy...
"Oim only one day old but I know wot Luv iz"

Why would you watch a movie about a Hungarian village? Unless Vampyres were ravaging it...
toothless Hungarian Vampyres who had their victims pureed!

This is a sick world and thanks to the Interwebs now we know WAY TOO MUCH about how depraved we really are.

Ignorance WAS bliss.
Can't comment on this post as it's too unsettling. But I did like the Grimleys.
MJ - I don't know which bit you're referring to, although I assume you're fortunate enough not to have heard of Les Dennis and Amanda Holden, and that was the most disturbing bit as far as I'm concerned.

Donn - it's difficult to tell how much they're taking the piss with that video. Did they stick their fingers in a bag of fertiliser to get the dirty fingernails, just so that people would say "eugh, look at the state of them, those filthy nails, what a pair of skanks, you could smell them before you could see them", etc, As for the Hungarian vampyre flick you mentioned, that sounds more like my sort of thing than Hukkle. Good, lighthearted fun the whole family can enjoy.

Kaz - I think I have to put in a good word for Les and his performance in Extras, even though it's very unfashionable to admit to liking anything Ricky Gervais was involved with these days.
Yes it's the last days of Rome alright.

But at least people aren't as anally retentive as they used to be...
Murph - I don't know about that. Yer Romans didn't seem to mind where they put it and with whom. Nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more.
Oh Murph you are priceless - that is the best line to worst mental image ever. It almost made reading it worth it.


I thank You.
and Betty, BLEURGH!
Someone told me that Wino & Pete ate the mice, so I watched that stupid video through my fingers, getting ready to throw up at into a conveniently placed bucket.

I must admit that Wino's Blake-mouse voice was more than enough. I wish they'd warned me about that instead!
Ziggi - enduring image, isn't it?

IVDVD - yeah, what was the big fuss about them eating the mice? Apparently, though, if baby mice are contaminated by human contact, the mother disowns them/eats them. Still, it couldn't be much worse than being handled by those two.
I would take great pleasure in force feeding Tom Cruise pureed chicken.

The diminutive Scientology loving pipsqueak would have something to shout about then.
Garfer - eugh. Okay, as long as I don't have to watch. Mind you, I quite fancy using the Cook, The Thief, The Wife And His Lover treatment on him - stuff him full of Sc*entology pamphlets and cook him at gas mark 8 for a week. It's the only language his sort understand.
Your post read like a scary short story by Susan Hill crossed with a Louis Bunuel film! Ugh - little mice being held by dirt-clogged junkie fingernail fingers. And Doherty's comment about the blood pumping through. Veins - every junkie's fixation I reckon. Pureed chicken makes me want to yack big time. I pureed chicken once and tried to make my son eat it - he said (age 6) in a really panicky agitated shout "take it away immediately it's DISGUSTING!" I can't believe I even entertained the idea that he would even eat it. I have since repented and expect it to be literally brought up at some sort of milestone birthday/wedding reception speech once he is older. As for Holden's drippy bottom - that is a shocking state of affairs . What a bummer!
I'm saving up to join the off world colonies. Life will be better there.

Ah, no, I forgot, this isn't Blade Runner.

RoMo - watching the pureed chicken being pureed and then slopped out onto the old bloke's plate and then eaten by the old bloke was bad enough. At least I didn't have to see/smell/taste it, for which I'm very grateful. Your son should really thank you for the experience - it's very, ahem, character building. My mum used to dish up cold pork chops for dinner at times, with dried up fat on the plate. Children ought to face up to unpleasant challenges like that ... probably.

Del - perhaps you should save up to live in Greenland? It may be a bit easier to avoid television or the internet out there, at any rate.
Just thought I'd pop over to Betty's before breakfast. Jeez, I'm gonna enjoy my toast this morning.
Now Betty, In the interest of balanced journalism, you better make your next post a little less, what shall I say, less, just less!
how you manage to cope with the fast-paced wackiness of life in modern day Britain is beyond me. the fast wackiness of the pace would be too much for me to endure without a large supply of oxycontin and a gallon jug of cheap tequila near to hand. i prefer living in my peaceful corner of the world watching the pterodactyls battling overhead as they circle the ravaged, smoking remains of Tom Cruise, still tightly belted in behind the wheel of his personal submarine, charred fingers still clutching at a hoped-for rescue that never came.

hungarians, betty?
Tom - I can't guarantee that the post will be less, just less, because I'm not even sure what the next post will be about, or when it'll be published. Bit of a blogging block (well, there has been for a few months actually - I'm just about holding on by the skin of my teeth!)

FN - the pace of life around here is very slow indeed. I like to while away my days sat out on the porch chewing a bit of straw and spitting occasionally, although sometimes I switch on local television and get confused by the fast-pacedness of the news about telephone masts being put up or a new supermarket being built. Bollocks to all that. Hungarians can't be as deranged as Serbians - I speak from experience.
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