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Hi, I'm Michael Finn, and I'd like to sodomise your mum.

I wrote a rant about big brother that's too long for a status, so fancy publishing it on your blog? Cheers.

Is actually pissed off with Channel 4's decision to have a fucking ''Ultimate Big Brother'''! Aimed towards the fucking retards that don't even know what 'Big Brother' is supposed to mean, but somehow feel a connection with the attention whores clustered into a house together! I thought Channel 4 had standards, but they seem to lack imagination, and want to give twats fame for no specific reason, or airspace to an Asian poof, that has a thing for saggy women.You could tell me not to watch it, but if it's not the 12 hours of airspace it takes up, it's gonna be another shitfest like X Factor, just on time to have a bollocks cover song (which every chav will realise he/she loves, and will play it on their phones, ignorant to the fact that it's a cover) with a key change at the end and a montage of the 'X Factor journey' in a radio friendly, Christmas music video! But we must feel sympathy for their sob stories, as having a dead mum or a recovering drug problem makes you, somehow, a good singer.

In conclusion, it took Jade Goody three Big Brothers to get evicted from life, hope the trend continues, :).

There you go, you shite monger. I'm not making a habit of posting peoples rants. So if you want a piece of my exposure, you can fuck right off.
Double plus good!

Shattered

August has been a scattered month. Whataya gonna do?!

If your body is a temple, then mine is a slum.

Thinking you've eaten all your toast and turning around to find a corner of toast sitting on the arm-rest. That is quite enjoyable.

Getting mistaken for another cat by a... yeh... because you have rattling coins in your pocket is awful daft. Every time you look behind you, there it is, looking around as if you didn't know.
Sure don't we all.

My raggedy ass clothes have exposed me once again.

I may be unhealthy, but I certainly don't look it!

Look at you. Driving your own extensions of your greed.

The big problem with thinking too fast is that you can't keep at the same pace speaking, so you slur your words. Your brain will go at such a speed that it'll trip over your mouth, leaving you with an overbite. That pretty much hinders you even further. Maybe even your forehead will melt over your face in a fury of linguistic improbabilities.
Typing is a different story. I've never tripped over my own fingers. I suppose I could grab my feet and hop down the stairs.
That's likely to happen in a world where my mind moves slower than my digestive system.
Or in a house where I'm given free alcohol.

Gladly appreciated if you could oblige me to that.

As I've said before, I love making paragraphs. It keeps me happy, and it stops your attention from fading. I start losing the point and you~

Jump ahead. Wonderful!

Tick. Tock.
Tick. Tock.
Every tick.
Every tock.
One more second.
One more second awake.
Time passes,
And you wait.
Every second,
And you hear it.
"Lets count time together"; Says the clock.
"Lets hide you from the night"; Says the lock.
Inside, and behind your door.
Start drinking coffee, 'cause you'll sleep no more.
The tick and the tock from every little clock.
The watch keeping rhyme,
Keeping you awake all the time.
In a time where patience and rest comes to play,
Ticking in the night. The world sleeps until day.

What time did you go to sleep?
I don't know. I was meant to check the time as soon as I fell asleep.

For something interesting: http://uk.news.yahoo.com/5/20100824/tod-the-pizza-burger-a-2-500-calorie-fat-870a197.html

Get it into yeh!