Yawn.

I only seem to be able to write blogs when I'm tired. Not sure why. Puts me in the mood I suppose. Fuck yeh. All my readers are the people motivating me to write more, i.e. stay up late, which damages my health you know? So does everthing else that's good. Like coffee and eating glass.

Fuck. I got nothin'. Ha. Suck it.

Too tired.

I'd hate to be you. Getting your hopes up for another classic blog. And it turns out to be shit.
You must feel like a reader of Callous And Seabird.

Failure

Don't you have to be an artist before you can have artist's block?
Half the writers I've stumbled across(1) in the past minute claimed to have writers block, despite never actually writing anything prior to the statement. Such a fuckin' human.

This blog is about you.

I'm finished this blog already. And guess what? It's still longer than your poxy blog.

Drown :)

Tweet Tweet

I seen a Christmas mug with various animals on it. All smiling.
Except the bird. Does this mean that birds are incapable of happiness, or at least expressing it?
O.k. So you might say, birds can't smile, as they have beaks.
Shut your mouth. Have you ever seen a reindeer or a polar bear smile? I rest my case....
On your fuckin' head.

One of those questions in the world. Why is it that my computer tells me that it'll only take 10seconds to move these files into another folder.....and it continues to tell me so for several minutes, until it finally changes its mind and tells me that I'm gonna be sitting here until tomorrow to see the change happen.
Windows should change their notices to tell you to make a cuppa tea and read a book.

A program on facebook predicted my future:
"Conchúir dear, share your emotions with others and find out what they would do if they were you. You don't have to seek the comfort of someone who knows you well. Sometimes, the less someone knows about you the safer he or she can make you feel."

Golly. That is a bright future. Is it advice or a prediction? Maybe it's a prediction of advice I'm gonna take. Presumably from this application that is probably on thousands of ignorant fuckers pages. It's right though. I should share my emotions to people I don't know. Why should I be miserable while they're not? Here ya go. Now fuck off and cry yourself to the point where your cheeks turn to blister and the bags under your eyes from sleep loss become turgid* and chapped.

*Turgid - Full of water.
I feel I should put a word index at the end since not everyone reads the dictionary on a Friday night eating crossaints and pomegranite while writing blogs through their nose, and I feel it'd be arrogant of me to assume everyone knows what it is.
If you already knew the word. Happy days. If not, now you do, so read this again and join the group of people who know and are set for happy days.

Here's another one: ''Conchúir sweetheart, to show courage and loyalty is a sure way to get your admirer's attention now that things have become clearer.''

I'm not afraid to put my hands down your pants, and you can trust me not to do it to any other girl. Now you surely want to tell me your true feelings since I've got your attention and cleared everything up in doing so.
Note how it says that it's your admirer. If this person was already admiring you, why would you need to get their attention? Foolish.

And in the news: Cardinal Sean Brady has refused to leave his position following his handling of child abuse claims.

http://uk.news.yahoo.com/21/20100518/tuk-survivors-slam-cardinal-staying-on-e1cd776.html



To be fair. If I had a chair like that, I wouldn't be leaving either.


That's me finished for now.

Just Hold It, Don't Ask Questions

This is about taking it like a bitch. You do it everyday. Accept it.

I went to the shop yesterday to get some milk. Blankly droning towards the counter to find this girl smiling at me. How dare she?!
I know. It gets worse too.
She meant it. I could tell. I seen it in her eyes. It was obvious. She was happy.
I instantly became nervous. I could feel my heart speeding up and my breaths became gasps. My hairs stood on end, and then.
Then she handed me the change and she did it again. Has she no shame?!

I was raised to believe that only Protestants and Paedofiles were allowed to be happy. Now this. I instantly entered a state of shock, walking away. I felt a little bit happy too.
It sickened me. I snailed home, trailing behind this blonde woman who gave me the look like I was gonna attack her. I was holding 2litres of pasturised/homogenised glory. I was the least threatening thing in the world next to the Dahli Llama and Malta.

I reminded myself that this is an unforgiving world and cried myself to sleep.

Tears of mild happiness is all I could muster! Damn you!
I read the bible to further my thoughts.

And there came out a fire from the LORD, and consumed the two hundred and fifty men that offered incense.--Num.16:35

Take that! Bam! That's what you get for being thoughtful and considerate. A smiting.
Where was the smiting yesterday, when I needed it the most?

If I ever become emporer of the world, I'm putting a fuckin' tax on happiness.

Suck it.

Hare Krishna

Fuck yeh, yah bastard.
You can fuck right off,
I don't want your shitty leaflet
With its empty surprise
A donation, is it? I think not!

This is expensive roach that I can do without,

Serious cock and balls is all that you shout.
Reality comes with a smack
So pucker up and don't pout.

Suck it

So I'm staying up a little bit late, I'm quite happy listening to ambient music.
This has lead me to want to write an anger filled blog.

If anyone gives me a topic, I'll hate it, and maybe write about it. Sophie's suggestions:

Not enough people thank bus drivers when getting off the bus.
It's their job. They're legally required to let you off the bus. Plus, they're not worthy of my thanks. Although, they didn't choose to drive into a truck and kill everyone on board. To that logic, People should thank me every second that I don't undress and pluck my arse hairs.
Therefore, bus drivers don't need to be thanked if the mood doesn't strike you.

Starving children with bloated stomach's.
Lying, fat bastards. We should eat more and be more selfish. It works for me.

Getting smoke in your eyes.
It's better than a cock in the eye.

Crying children in restaurants when you're trying to enjoy a meal.
At least they're not happy.

Gore-Grind/Gore-Core/Brutal Death Metal Analysis

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