It’s true, when i don’t sleep it turns into Squires’ blog. Random inside jokes. One-liners that probably require explanation even for the people involved. Huge chunks cut and pasted from another website. Unexplained and un-related lyrics to songs nobody else knows or even cares about… it’s great, at least you know you can have a day off at some day mate and i can cover for you!

Before i start my latest series of rants, this is not my fabled ‘next blog entry’. That would require time, patience and dedication of which i have next to none of at the moment.

I found my songbook! I do not have any word in the English language to describe how happy and relieved I am not to have lost it. It is over 10 years in the making now.

Every day i take my earring out to go and work at the bank and every day i have to pierce it again when i get home. Completely covered over. I think that i am an X-man. Is that how you say it? I don’t want to offend any geeks. Ok i think i am one of the X-Men? How’s that? My eyebrow ring was even worse. If i took it out to play basketball for an hour i would have to re-pierce that one, and that one bled.

I used to think that i was hyper-observant, perceptive, even the ability to pre-empt the future – a soothsayer perhaps – because i always knew when a street person was going to talk to me….then i figured out that street people talk to anyone and everyone. They really are prejudice free. They are role models for the future.

Actually i think i just wanted to be a soothsayer because it is something that the kids of today aren’t really interested in, so i would face less competition in going for jobs. Maybe a candlestick maker…or something that still requires the use of an anvil. For CJ and red a soothsayer is ein Wahrsager oder einer Wahrsagerin. I don’t imagine the word Soothsayer would come up in too many English text books…unless you learn’t by reading Asterix.

Is there anything more annoying of a morning than someone walking behind you in high heels at a slightly faster rate than you? It sounds so panicked. Is someone chasing them? I don’t particulalry want to look around because if there is someone chasing them i may have to play Johnny hero. I hate Johnny Hero. He’s a cunt.

Why do high-heels have to make so much noise? Can they not put some rubber thingies on the bottom? Or is that one of the features of high-heels that is attractive to women? The ability to piss people off at a mass level.

60 year old woman: Hmmm what am i doing today again? That’s right i’m overseeing some examinations at the local school. Where are the exams again? The basketball court? Hmmm better take these comfortable rubber-soled loafers off that i have been wearing for the past 20 years and better put on some ridiculous heels while im walking in between rows on a wooden floor. That should help them concentrate.

Paraphrasing Catharine’s text: “I just went home to read a book, then a friend rang me to sing to me how much she loves me, so that cheered me up”

Matt’s witty reply: “Your friend’s call you to say how much they love you? Who do you hang out with, Lionel Ritchie?”

Would have been sooo much funnier had i remembered that it was Stevie Wonder.

So Coheed and Cambria were awesome. He had all the moves including singing into his pickups and some sort of weird instrument that Phil assures me Jimmy Page also once used. He’s too fat to use it now. I still managed to get sufficiently annoyed by the people around me. I really have to come up with a new strategy for concerts.

I learn’t a new word during the week. Well first of all i didn’t believe that it was actually a word, but then i looked it up and it is. I don’t normally plug any kind of products or what-have-you but i will tell you if you are looking for a Dictionary, go no further than Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary of Law. Dictionary.com was trying to explain my new word to me when i stumbled on Merriam’s contribution.

Main Entry: fungible
Function: noun
: something that is fungible

Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary of Law, © 1996 Merriam-Webster, Inc.

I wonder what their definition of a lawyer is: someone who lawyers stuff?

A person who turned out to be a surprising fountain of wisdom once said to me, everyone has issues – it’s just that some people let their issues get the better of them leaving the rest of us just deal with the pieces that remain.

I said this 10 years ago, then i didn’t have to repeat it until about 5 years later, then a few years ago, and now. Seems the intervals are getting shorter – who needs enemies when you have got ‘friends’ like mine?

People who can not stand their own company should probably not burn all of their bridges…

Xavier’s latest offering…

Another one i have written is ‘Modern psychology stopped with the hysterectomy’. This is hilarious. I would assume i was being facetious with this. I think it is more funny to me to think where my mind must have been at that point in time. A quick brush up for those of you who don’t know, the hysterectomy originally came about as a cure for hysteria. It was thought at the time that only women could suffer from hysteria. What makes a woman different to a man? A Uterus. Well let’s get rid of the Uterus then…that should cure it!

A duck!
Who are you that are so wise in the ways of science…

In many ways modern psychology hasn’t progressed at all since these days. Of course there have been giant leaps forward in some areas but so many old habits are still lingering. I wonder why i would have been upset about psychology??? The mind boggles.

Working in an insurance agency is the ideal place for a woman to hunt for men. In three questions yesterday i was asked ‘Am i married?’, ‘Do i have any kids?’ and ‘how much money do you make?’ It’s like looking in a catalogue really isn’t it…Have to admit i was a bit embarrassed when she followed it up with ‘Well you do make a fair bit of money….which is a good thing!’ The latter comment tacked on because i had become visibly uncomfortable. Firstly i don’t earn that much, and secondly i don’t find money to be impressive. If i wanted my ego fellated i would go hang out at Living or Velvet with the masses of horrible excuses for people that seem to plague financial cities like Frankfurt.

I almost got suckered in by suggestive advertising yesterday. Which is annoying really cause i’m not usually susceptible to suggestion. I was in Railslide and they were having a sale on Jackets for 50% off. I’ve needed a new jacket for about 2 years now so was browsing away. Noticed this brown number so thought i’d check out the size. I only added brown into my repertoire last year, seems to be working. I notice the label and it’s a North Face jacket. I fucking hate North Face as a brand. I hate people that wear North Face gear. Have you ever even seen a fucking mountain? I bet you drive a range rover through the city as well. Cunts.

Anyway, i was about to walk away but just out of curiosity i thought i’d check out the price. Original price €399, marked down to €249…i’m thinking an additional 50% off this makes it just over €120. That’s almost €300 off! Now all of a sudden i am thinking…well how much do i really hate North Face? Surely they deserve their day in the sun…But i stood strong! €400 is a bit extravagant for a jacket for my tastes..that’s about the price of my entire wardrobe…and it’s still fucking North Face!

I rate that story about a 2 out of 5. I gave one point for the use of the c-bomb.

I’ve been going to the doctors a lot recently…hell if i’m paying for health insurance i may as well use it. Anyways, i have to say i really, really dislike reception staff in health care facilities. Notice how i didn’t use ‘hate’? Cause you’d all think i was a prick if i said i hated them. …I fucking hate anyone working in the service industry who doesn’t appear to like their job. If you don’t like it, don’t fucking do it! The service industry wasn’t for me, that’s why i got out. If you don’t like talking to people, don’t get a fucking job which requires you to answer phones and greet people. Slags.

My GP is good, actually my GP is great. Silk put me on to them. I sit in their waiting room listening to whale noises and shit, ogling the walls which are covered by autographed pictures of the head doctor with famous people. Seriously, Shakira, Elton john, Carlos Santana…all get sick going through Frankfurt apparently. But the nurses there are great. They at least attempt to speak English with me. They also assume i can’t speak any German at all when they speak to each other – “Er ist süß!”

Damn right i’m sweet bitches…

I have no problems with that place, it’s when they refer me to a specialist or something that all the problems begin. Every fucking time, i try as much German as i can…they refuse to speak any English and develop some massive chip on their shoulder like i shouldn’t be there. It’s not the doctors, they are fine. Always the fucking reception staff. Today i walked out after my ultrasound – turns out im not preggers – and i said to the woman in German ‘..ahh are we done?’ She points back to where i just came from and says ‘i don’t know, go and ask them’. Fuck that. I just walked out the door. You can ring me if you need anything else. Trollop.

I now have my insurance sorted, tax sorted, and my health is looking better. 3 Down, 3 to go!

I had to slightly edit this one because of some comments leading up to the US election, for no other reason than they didn’t make sense now in the timeline.  Oh, and i was in Australia when i wrote this one so just pretend im on holidays there and not in the UK.

OK so speaking as an Australian in Australia…albeit for a short bit of time, here are some observations / words of advice…

Who, the FUCK, spends $45 to go to a gig and speaks all the way through it? Who? Australians! For fucks sake here’s 30 bucks go buy the cd, turn it up really loud at home and then speak to your dog about the weekend or something…whatever just don’t do it the fuck away from me at a show. Everytime the music goes quiet you can just hear this low fucking annoying hum…i don’t give a flying fuck what Dazza said to Bruce at the club the othernight…otherwise i would have paid money to go see Bogan’s Live…. cunts!

Guys, mullet’s are not cool. I don’t care if you think you are being funny, the jokes gone on long enough. You look like a tards.

That emo dickhead i saw at Miranda…if you want to put hair over one of your eyes and look all sad and cut yourself, that’s fine, each to their own. Probably wouldn’t advise growing a charlie chaplin moustache as well though and resembling the star of the History Channel….tool!

Girls, i’m probably on my own on this one but that is the beauty of my rants, i am not doing it for your approval. Pregnancy tops should only be worn by pregnant women. These tops that fly out from just below the bra line in to what looks like a 3 year olds communion dress down to the tops of your jeans just look stupid. If you wear one i just believe you are either pregnant or hiding a belly. Congratulations if that is/was your mission.

Everyone, fluro has had it’s day. Let it go. There is no need in modern society for fluro board shorts.

Even our normal non-american-election news show though proves that we have become little litigious American wannabes. All it is is bad news and lawsuits. This is probably why i don’t watch the news. Take for example the case of this child that drowned while at swimming lessons at school. Now the parents are of course suing. In presenting the facts the news tart trying to be diplomatic presented what she believes to be the contentious points in the case…in point form (very compassionate). From memory her points were something like::

- Debateable permission slip – Apparently the parents had signed the form saying the child could attend the swimming lessons, but the part about ‘my child can swim 20meteres’ was circled in a different coloured pen, most probably by the child herself before handing it in to the teacher.
- Insufficient supervision
- The amount of children in the pool or some bollocks

I can’t remember the rest, she waved her hand in front of a blue screen to another 4 or 5 points like she was presenting the weather. I can summarise the argument actually.

Fuck the permission slip and every other contentious issue! They are kids in a swimming pool and should be supervised whether or not they can swim 20m! How is suing the school going to alleviate heartache? Way to put a price on your child…pricks.

There you go Germany, it’s not only you that pisses me off.

I miss recovery.

While I’m on the topic of legs… your knees should not be the widest part of your legs. You’re supposed to have thigh muscles AND calf muscles. Seriously people, I will buy you a sandwich, it just looks fucking disgusting.

So it looks like i have another Old Trafford trip coming up. I’ve had to answer this question a few times recently, and have answered it so many times over the course of my being that it has kind of mutated and i have left certain parts out and embellished on others. So i’ll try to jot it down once and for all…then i’ll get cards printed out with the URL and just hand it over rather than explaining it each time.

Why do i support Manchester United?

It all began a long time ago in a small suburb of Sydney Australia called Peakhurst…or was it Riverwood? One of the two. That general area. I used to hang around with this bloke from school…playing Basketball, cricket etc. I reckon this must have been around ‘93 or ‘94 cause i remember him playing Snoop Doggy Dogg’s Doggystyle album over and over again. 93 is more likely as I had a bulldog clip around my school notes from that year with Paul Ince crudely written in liquid paper (tipex) and he was sold at the end of the 94 season.

Anyway, my mate had just gotten back from the UK playing cricket for i guess the Australian schoolboys or something – Bryce Young was his name if you are anal enough to check the authenticity of this tale. So we went up to his room one day, to trade basketball cards or whatever we were doing back then and he had his walls completely covered with posters and pictures cut out of magazines of Manchester united players. Who the fuck is Manchester United? A soccer team? Nah fuck that. That’s what the Italian and Lebanese kids at school play. Why the fuck would i want to watch that shit? So he tried to explain it to me in terms i would understand. It’s like watching the origin team week in-week out. State of Origin is what Australian’s and probably many other Rugby League fans would consider the highest level of the game..especially since England are now utter shite at it. Not completely sold yet he delivered the killer blow…it’s like watching an all-star team week in, week out. I was hooked. The NBA was at once everything foreign and familiar to me. It was what we aspired to and knew we could never get to. It brought together all these players from different teams from different parts of a country i hardly knew…places i could not point out on a map, but could name their starting 5 including their heights and colleges, and more often than not their dangerous bench players. So how could i imagine this on a much grander scale…the best players in their positions from countries all over the world playing together every week…a team that in all fantasy, and probably reality would annihilate any team an entire country could put together… Fuck choosing teams! There was only one! Manchester United was football to me. Can you remember the names of the teams ‘playing’ against the Harlem Globetrotters? It was as clear cut as that. It was Manchester United, then a gulf, a chasm, to any other team. Why would i want to know their names?

And so it began. Saturday nights in the rumpus room watching videos of United games he had brought back with him, eagerly waiting for our one football wrap up show on SBS or ABC…one of the government channels anyway. There it was…match of the day or some spin off program. 10 or 15 minutes of goals and wrap-up of the action, followed by an extended highlights package of the game of the week for roughly 45 minutes or so. And guess who the game of the week was? 9 times out of 10 it was Manchester United. In fact i can only remember watching united games…maybe the odd Liverpool or Newcastle match.

I remember the players… Steve Bruce before he ate everything in site.. all the kids Nicky Butt, Giggs, Keano, and later the explosion of the Nevilles, Beckham, Scholes…Cantona, Kanchelskis, Denis Irwin, Incey, Gary Pallister, Lee Sharpe, Hughesy and the goliath Schmeichel in goals. I think we brought in Andy Cole in the first year i was watching.

The following morning, the trampoline would be turned on it’s side to become a makeshift goal as we’d try to emulate whatever highlight we had seen the night before. This was completely unheard of in the land downunder. It was foreign enough to be trying to emulate some NBA moves…in fact if you weren’t pretending to be an Aussie Cricketer, or rugby league player you were a right poof. Unfortunately i found out at an early age that i was painfully rubbish at the game – a fact which has still yet to change – and so i concentrated on watching the sport and rather playing basketball or cricket. The seeds were sewn though.

By the time we got pay tv years later and i realised there were other teams in the league it was too late. I was a one team man.

Of course it wasn’t all clear sailing. I still couldn’t quite grasp why the commentators would make such a big deal about ‘local derbies’ in games between Chelsea and Arsenal or United and Liverpool…weren’t they all London teams? Sure it was the English premier League…but the Australian Football League (AFL) was just played by a bunch of short-short wearing girls in Victoria and some Victorian rejects over in Western Australia…it wasn’t really national. Christ 18 of the Rugby League teams were from Sydney and we didn’t bang on about local derbies…

It’s since become clearer…

I don’t remember the qualifying campaign for the 94 world cup, so i might not have been totally in love with the game by that stage, just the United way. I had to read about it later that after topping our group, Australia then had to play home and away legs against Canada – which we won – followed by home and away legs against Maradonna’s Argentina just to fricking qualify. We lost 2-1 on aggregate.

Not so, four years later when i was amongst half of the nation to be late to school/work thinking we were heading on our way to the World Cup in France with a 3-1 aggregate lead over Iran and only 30 mins to go, only to see us concede two late goals. Once more i would be watching the World cup purely to see United players turn out for their respective countries.

Less than a year later i would be celebrating United’s treble, without really grasping the significance of the feat. Sure i was watching a lot of United games…but they were all games still. We were not really getting the amount of coverage that would allow me to understand the nuances of league Cups, F.A. Cups, the League, the European Cup….i just loved watching united play, United playing well, United winning!

At this stage i did not have a hatred for any other clubs. I knew which clubs were capable of beating us on the day – if we played poorly – which players posed a threat. I knew which other teams and players i could watch while waiting for a United match to come on.

By the time of the next World Cup i was coming to the end of my Uni degree, and working full time in the evenings as a bar supervisor in an R.S.L club. This is where i was put on my first test, though hardly a baptism of fire. Across the road from my club was a sort of up-market shopping center with diamond stores etc, that for whatever reason used to solely hire English and Irish backpackers. Keen for a drink they would pack into my club on a Friday and Saturday night ripping open fresh pay packets to satisfy their thirsts. And so began the banter. I was United. I would single out the other United fans and we would trade stories and memories. I would match wits with Arsenal fans and pre-roman Chelsea fans. Any faux pas i would make were to be ignored…he’s only an Aussie. A moniker which would haunt me later entering the big leagues of football fandom.

Watching the 2002 finals surrounded by these English and Irish fans, i made up my mind…i was moving to the UK. To give it final impetus i decided i would have two years in the UK, preferably Ireland cause i am genetically predetermined to also hate the English, and then 2 years in Germany to get myself setup with a place where my mates could come and doss to watch the World Cup in Germany in four years time. Sorted.

Didn’t quite work out how i’d planned. I’d stopped in London on my way to a job in Ireland to visit a friend, only to find out that there was no job. I ended up getting a live-in job at a bar paying 160 pound a week, living rent-free above the pub. 70 pounds of my first pay check went to my first United Jersey…which i still wear to the pub each week, and every time i go to Old Trafford. 40 pounds for the Jersey, 10 Pounds for Giggs’ name and number, 10 pounds for the official FA badges and an extra 10 pounds for long sleeves…Giggsy only wore long sleeves back then.

I would wait till my second paycheck to buy a Woollen Duffle Coat for the cruel November winter.

Which brings on the next turning point…apparently it is not ok to support your own team.

Up until this stage i had never come across, or even heard the term ‘Anyone But united’. South London is full of them.

My first premiership match was Chelsea vs Middlesbrough at Stamford Bridge. Chelsea won 1-0 thanks to a Celestine Babayaro sprint down the left. i remember sitting the entire game on my hands so as not to cheer every time Chelsea lost the ball. I was in the home section of the Bridge. When i did let out a yelp at one point i made it abundantly clear that i was Australian and was ever so proud of having the Aussie Mark Schwarzer in goal of Middlesbrough.

It was to be almost 3 years before i finally made the pilgrimage to Old Trafford for a boring 0-0 with a Sunderland team who had not won a game all year i think. I almost died of embarrassment when our keeper lunged to cover his post on a shot that was some 8 to 10 yards wide which was met by my sister’s stunning observation…”our keeper isn’t very good is he”. We’ll talk about this after class.

Yet here i was, unable to wear my beloved Jersey to my local pub, for fear of retribution for the locals for something my team did to their team some 100 years ago or something. Admittedly i knew most of the punters around my local area from working in the pub so i didn’t cop it too much. Unfortunately that sort of clout did not help me outside of Balham.

I never really had anything against Arsenal. I liked watching Thierry Henry (obviously before “Le Hand”) and Freddie Ljungberg, and Dennis Bergkamp was capable of the sublime. I hated, hated, hated Ray Parlour and Martin Keown with a passion. Still to this day i get annoyed when i see them on TV for whatever reason. But apart from them i was quite capable of watching an Arsenal match if i was waiting for someone else to come on. I even had a cheeky bet on Freddie to score first in one F.A Cup final as he had 4 goals in 5 games or something coming into it and was still double figure odds. He scored second. Ray Parlour scored the first. Cunt.

However, when United drew Arsenal in some FA Cup tie…i can’t even remember if it was a semi or what, i decided with a mate we would watch it on neutral territory somewhere. I was working in Farringdon at the time and thought the city might be nice and neutral. Of course all the pubs were shut when we got there as the Square Mile is pretty much barren outside of office hours. With 15 minutes till kick off we jumped into a cab and said take us to a sports bar, we want to watch the game. Unbeknownst to me, ’sports bar’ apparently means strip club. Unfortunately we didn’t find this out before the beer was poured, and had to exit quite quickly at the behest of two very large bouncers…drinks paid for but not drank.

Minutes to go now and we stumble across some standing room only pub. Fuck it. This will have to do. We watch the game in near silence. United won! Walking away from the pub to the tube my friend and i were stopped by several people wanting to know the score as it was a fairly big game. By the time we got on the tube we weren’t even talking about the footy any more, just regular shit. Neither of us were wearing colours. When we got to Baker st tube these two lads that were sitting across from us spoke to us as we were waiting to get off:

Tosser #1: Do you guys know the footy results?
Me: United won 2-1.
Tosser #2: Fucking united cunts..

At this point i was a bit unsure if he was referring to us or the team so i just turned around and waited for the doors to open, at which point it became clear it was directed at us as a bit more abuse followed….until he spat on me…

Now i didn’t feel it or anything at the time so my friend had to tell me later, but he saw it and immediately turned to them saying “Touch my mate again and i’ll fucking kill you!” – Dave had a way with words and a way to back them up. We continued up the stairs with these dickheads behind us but not really saying anything. We crossed the floor to take our stairs as they went to leave the station. At the very last minute Dave turned around to see where they were and that was enough of a trigger for these gobshites. They sprinted across the floor and attempted some sort of flying kick which missed my head as i was three steps below them.

Tosser #1: Come outside man, we’ll fuck you up! Come outside where there’s no cameras you fucking cunts!

Exactly how many people respond to this offer with “yeah alright, may as well…”

Now i know these people did not represent the Arsenal football club, they may not have even been fans, but it is not going to stop me associating Arsenal FC with dickhead cunts looking for a fight. I could probably break this association with some therapy but why bother…united fans are supposed to hate Arsenal.

Likewise i’ve never really hated Liverpool. I have always had mates who supported Liverpool, so have always seen them play. I don’t like them, i don’t dislike them. I am just ambivalent. I don’t want to lose to them that’s for sure. Perhaps if i had to put up with them gloating all the time i might change my mind but lets be honest…it’s been a while since they won something and might be a while till they win something again if the Rafa-lution continues….

I’ve never hated City either..mainly cause i think of them as a bit of a joke. I liken City fans to people who like unsigned bands just because they are unsigned…’this is real music man’, ‘this isn’t about the money’. Sound familiar? Where are you hyping on about your lack of money now? Manchester is Red! Stephen Ireland is a red! You can have Tevez. Jokes on you.

I hate Chelski, mainly because they seem to be our biggest threat. I hated them for the money thing and trying to buy the league and i do think they destroyed part of the game by paying over the odds for everyone, but i know they can never buy one thing and it’s team spirit. Have a look at them after they have scored a goal…it looks about as awkward as some parents sobering up on the dance floor of a wedding…there is no camaraderie, no feeling in it. Just a bunch of investments thanking each other. Chelski will never have class.

So hopefully that explains it beyond the point where i have to listen to another retard talk about, oh but you’re not from Manchester…what a surprise? You’re just fucking stupid. It doesn’t matter how long you have supported a team, or how many games you’ve been to, or how many tattoos you have or any sort of shit measure. If you feel passionately about a team then fucking support them and be proud of it.

If you cut me do i not bleed? Of course i do. I bleed red. Manchester United red. Try telling me when i feel sick after a loss that i’m not a real fan and see how far you get with me…

Cue Metallica circa ‘94:

Pretty crap right. If only i had known this when i was at the gig in the next clip:

So at the time i thought this was kind of cool you know. I wasn’t completely sold on Will Duvall by this stage (i am now). Had i have known that he was openly taking the piss out of Layne some 12 years earlier then i probably would have thrown my shoe at the prick as well. On a day when the main stage lineup was Alice in Chains followed by Deftones, Korn and Tool and ALL of the bands gave props to AiC and how good it was to see them performing again then this kind of cheapens it for me now.

So anyway, it got me thinking how much Metallica actually annoy me. So here is a little sketch for you. I wish i could draw cause i picture this in my head as a cartoon but unfortunately im a tard when it comes to drawing so you jut get the script. Maybe someone else can draw it up.

The demise of Metallica

New bassplayer who kind of looks like the guy from Korn: Man, the new album is dop yo. We got this phat sound it’s like proper old school y’all.

Lars Ulrich: I’m sorry, what?

James Hetfield: I told you man. That’s how the kids of today talk man…he’s going to reunite us with our estranged fans man.

Lars Ulrich: But, aren’t you like 50?

Kirk Hammett: You know why they’re estranged don’t you Lars? Remember Napster? Yeah great job there dude. Alienate all of our fans that use a computer. Look around at our gigs now man, it’s a bunch of prehistoric rock dinosaurs man. These cats in their tight black jeans and leather jackets man. They still want our albums on vinyl!

Lars: Is your hair receding Kirk?

Kirk: Shut up man, my forehead hasn’t finished growing yet…

Hetfield: So what do you want to do for the gig tonight man…you wanna do that Layne Staley bit again? Where we pretend to shoot up?

Lars: Yeah man! That’s some funny ass shit!

Kirk: Don’t you think it’s kind of retarded that we make fun of him for using, when James you had to go to rehab, and we all had to go to counselling for our own problems and addictions…and then we made a movie about how retarded we are…

Lars: You are…

Kirk: You know i was thinking, you know how we’re a bit short on cash thanks to St. Anger being crap…maybe we can sell your second bass drum…it’s not like you use it…

Lars: Hey Fuck you man…there was that bit in ‘One’…i used it towards the end.

Hetfield: Dude that was like 20 years ago…

Lars: Fuck you greybeard!

Hetfield: Yeah nice nipple rings on your saggy old man boobs!

Lars: Speaking of St Anger…did you forget how to solo Kirt?

Kirk (imitating Lars): Hey guys i got this new beat i want to try out for the new album…it goes “Kick..snare..kick..snare..kick..snare..kick kick..snare” Fucking best work i’ve ever done.

Hetfield: Why do you play with your shirt off? It’s not like are working hard. You’re like drumming 101…seriously Meg White learnt to drum off our last four albums…

Kirk: We even asked her to join the band when we got the new bassist, but she refused to play any of your work saying it was beneath her.

Lars: Yeah well we tried to hire Joleon Lescott for lead guitar as well, but he didn’t want people confusing him for your forehead!

New Bass player: Guys come on man, this shit is whack yo.

Hetfield: Hey shut the fuck up new guy! What’s with the basketball shorts and singlet tops man? Did you not get the memo? Black jeans. Black shirt. Black accessories. Black! We’re a heavy metal band! We’re fucking Metallica! Metal is in our name! You can’t spell Metal without Metallica..no wait..Metallica without Metal…yeah Metallica without Metal…cause we have metal inside us!

Kirk: We’re like the terminator man, metal on the inside, flesh on the outside…we are musical terminators.

Hetfield: That’s awesome man…i’m gonna write that shit down. I feel Unforgiven IV coming on…

Lars: I can hear the beat in my head already…

Cunts the lot of them.

“and i got more rhymes than the beasties got songs about having more rhymes than other people, places and things”

So Australia, or as we were affectionately nicknamed, the dirty south, reclaimed the Ashes on the weekend. Called into the squad despite injury i was happy with my half hour spell as substitute fielder in short mid-wicket – the most boring of all places to field. I got whiplash from watching balls go past out of reach to my left and my right. Slightly odd though to see some Oirish playing on the England team…what the hell are the Irish doing fighting with the English?

Things that annoy me today:

Eier in Senfsoße … Eggs in Mustard?!?!? Are you shitting me?!?!? Here’s a picture from the canteen at work if you don’t believe me.

Shoutouts to peeps on the train:

The fat cunt who pretty much sat on my bung knee yesterday with no acknowledgement whatsoever of body contact…seriously, boundaries. He was a habitual linestepper! Cheers cunt!

The pre-pubescent bint who walked around a blind corner with her mate as i walked from the opposite direction around said blind corner and clicked her tongue at having to move slightly. I hope that cigarette stunts your growth, it will complete the picture with your sunbed orange skin you fucking oompa loompah!

The woman at the ticket office that kind of looks like Serbian Alex with blonde hair who apparently thought my German was good enough in asking for a new monthly ticket starting tomorrow that she could then have an entire conversation in German with me. Like i said this morning, “uh huh, ok,*nod*, ja, *smile*, uh huh, ok, dann schönen tag noch und vielen dank. Tschüß!” I got you in here! *thumps chest*

I’m going to turn 30 soon. Sad. I have been away from home for most of my 20’s, almost a quarter of my life. Now i’m getting old. But i’ve decided i’m going to fight it. I don’t like the concept of getting old and what it does to you. I’m not talking about the physical aspects – like i could really give two shits about that. I’ve been bald since i was 20 and am odds-on to get diabetes at some point in time so i’m aware of what i have to look forward to. It’s not like anyone ever dies of old age anymore, it’s always cancer or some other bundle of joy taking people against their will so we just have to wait our turns. No the physical things i can deal with. It’s the other things i have noticed in older people. Priorities change. Friendships are everything when you are younger. Later on you seem to only see friends at their weddings, then the weddings of their children, and then at funerals, always with the same promise – we should do this more often, yeah let’s keep in touch a bit better.

It’s all too familiar. Friendships become superficial as eyes glaze over for what was previously important while the mind wanders towards IKEA catalogues and investment opportunities and when would be the right time to pop the question and could i afford to bring a child into this world. I’m not saying that these things aren’t important, don’t get me wrong, but they can wait until someone is not talking to you. It’s a bit like those retards you see around the street with headphones on in one or both ears while they are walking with their friends. I LOVE music, but there is no song or tune so important that i need to listen to it while my friend is talking, that’s just fucking rude. Similarly i don’t think there is anything life can throw at me that takes precedence over a friend trying to tell me something. That’s the part I’ll fight till my death.

So i’m not allowed to discuss the c-bomb and now i can’t talk about fashion either. There’s just no keeping Squires’ high-brow audience happy is there. I might go back and edit my post (if i can’t write a new one) to include ugg-boots worn outside the house – that’s a definite no-no.

Me: There really are a lot of fit women in Frankfurt
Berger: There is a huge difference between ‘fit’ and ‘accessible’.

I used to watch a lot of stand-up comedy when i was living in Australia. I’d go to uni during the day and straight to work at the Rusty (RSL, club, pub) and then get home at 1-2 in the morning or so. Of course you can’t go straight to sleep as anyone who has done shift work will tell you, so i’d watch tele. What else is on at 2 in the morning than the comedy channel.

I remember this clip and I’m paraphrasing something i saw about 8 or 9 years ago here, but if it rings a bell and someone could tell me the comedian’s name i’d be much appreciative. Google gave me nothing.

You know when you fancy a girl and she tells you that everything is so good between you that she’d just like to keep it as friends? Imagine that in a job interview…

Thanks for coming Tommy. We’ve had a look through your cv and it’s very impressive. You’ve got written down here that you’re honest, not afraid of commitment…you’re good looking (creative licence rocks!)…we’ve seen you’re hilarious…basically you are exactly what we are looking for, but we’d just rather not. We admit, you are perfect for the role, in fact so much so that if you wouldn’t mind we’d like to keep your cv on file and call you to complain about the guys that we do take on and how bad they are at the job…

Want to know how to keep a fool waiting? I’ll tell you next week…

No seriously, do you want to know how to keep a fool waiting? Send him a text message which reads:

* some text missing *cking Amazing!!!

Watch how long they wait for the rest of that message to show up…

I have realised i have become desensitized to life in general. For a while i thought my body was just rejecting life. Strange illnesses, bites and rashes…it was just like i was allergic to being. Now it seems my mentality has joined the party. I don’t know that i experience polarities of feelings anymore. I don’t really get happy, or sad, or find things funny or scary or horrifying – i get annoyed a lot but that doesn’t really count. I find it hard to remember a time when i could truly answer “i’m happy”. Sure, United winning cheers me up briefly, and music still elicits a reaction, but the rest is some sort of unresponsive, indifferent, grey numbness. I can’t surround myself with music and football every day. I watch movies and tv and barely register that it’s on. How did i like the movie? It was ok. Was it? I have no idea. It is my standard response to everything. How are you? I’m ok. Am i? I wouldn’t know. I’ve given up caring. I’ve managed to remove almost every thing or person which was causing me anxiety or stress from my life, to the point that i just float around independent of connection. I look forward to the occasional argument to fire up the coals of my wit to see if it still works. Would a change of scenery help? Probably not. I don’t know what would. I’ll just carry on my semi-detached existence hoping that something sparks me back to life. I’ve gone from being a man of bridled enthusiasm, to being a man of bridled participation.

Told you i was fucking hilarious.

The top 10 search engine query’s which have (mis)led people to my page as recorded by the blog software are:

1. 20: cunts
2. 2: manchester(…)d hendrix
3. 2: masturbation
4. 2: pissing mastutbation
5. 2: luke chadwick ugly
6. 1: hugh grant
7. 1: soundgarde(…)urstville
8. 1: www.joesquires.com
9. 1: joe+says
10. 1: tomi hendrix experience

Not hilarious on it’s own but certainly indicative. So i decided to dig a little deeper. Some other queries observed:

* SEARCH ENGINE: search.aol.com SK (page: 1)
* KEYWORDS: aniston+cunt

Descriptive or possessive? You decide!

* SEARCH ENGINE: Google Images (page: 2)
* KEYWORDS: luke chadwick ugly
and
* SEARCH ENGINE: Google Images UK (page: 2)
* KEYWORDS: luke chadwick ugly

I want to see if he is uglier in the UK!

* SEARCH ENGINE: Google (page: 1)
* KEYWORDS: ivorian cunt

What’s his name again? He plays for Chelsea… um…i don’t know, just google his description!

* SEARCH ENGINE: Google (page: 1)
* KEYWORDS: pussycats sluts

Unless i don’t remember searching for this, i may have coined a nickname.

* SEARCH ENGINE: Google Images (page: 1)
* KEYWORDS: pissing mastutbation

This poor French lad was so excited in anticipation he couldn’t even type properly.

* SEARCH ENGINE: Google Images (page: 1)
* KEYWORDS: irish cunt

Possessive / descriptive?

* SEARCH ENGINE: Google Images (page: 28)
* KEYWORDS: bathroom masturbation

28 pages people! Talk about determination! I’m kind of glad that i don’t come up earlier in this search.

* SEARCH ENGINE: Google Images (page: 31)
* KEYWORDS: cunts

This Dutch fella was clearly more determined / in need.

* SEARCH ENGINE: Google Images TR (page: 23)
* KEYWORDS: masturbation yapan adam

I don’t know what this translates to in Turkish but for 23 pages of google images it would want to be worth it.

* SEARCH ENGINE: aolsearch.aol.co.uk SK (page: 1)
* KEYWORDS: Cunts and Bulmers

Sounds like a night out at Waxy’s…

* SEARCH ENGINE: Google Images (page: 6)
* KEYWORDS: piss of death

I almost, almost want to put this into Google to see what else you can find.

Derby time!

Comically, I don’t date anywhere near enough girls where i can pass these sorts of comments off without the girl(s) in question getting suspicious. There’s probably a couple of girls i know that if they read this would assume i am talking about them. Don’t worry it’s not you that i’m writing about…or is it? Nah, Just kidding…or am i? I can feel a Carly Simon remix coming on…

It’s Tuesday night and not a single Patrick Swayze joke has come my way. By this stage i already had about 3 different email chains going trading Michael Jackson jokes…Does no-one care anymore????

This guy is my new idol. Well i didn’t really have an idol before that. Maybe Kurt Cobain, and this guy doesn’t beat him. Ok this is someone i look up to. I’d like to think i can bitch about stuff with certain aplomb but credit where credit’s due this guy takes it to a whole new level. I would almost consider joining Twitter to follow this guy. I said almost. I’ve almost considered giving up drinking at times, doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. http://twitter.com/shitmydadsays

Squires won’t link to me because i use certain words too much which may offend the ‘high-brow’ readers of his site. I will have you folks know – and by you i mean Squires and Berger, my faithful audience – i have shown considerable constraint when dropping the c-bomb recently.

So because of this my self-constraint, i feel no ashame when i ask – What is your definition of a cunt?

Someone who uses the middle urinal out of a possible three, making you take one of the side ones next to him?

Someone who purposely writes a post about cunts so that he can tag it again making the word appear even bigger in the tag cloud, rivalling ze Germans?

Someone who treads on an ex-teammates head the first time they meet?

Discuss.

Enzyme missing people cunts

Butt crack people cunts

Suit-wearing people cunts

Cunts that use the word people instead of cunts.

YMCA – Village Cunts.

Hearing the same CD three times in a night over four pints.

Cunts that ask German questions first in an Irish pub quiz!

Bandwagon-jumping-on cunts.

Turncoat cunts.

Cunts who try to join in your Joke.

Overbite cunts.

Cunts that speak English with an American accent when they are not American (and not Filipino).

Old cunts.

Cunts that eat hamburgers with cutlery.

Cunts that mix shit with their beer.

Every cunt at the airport who gets off the escalators at the airport and just stands there looking for signs.

Cunts that take the middle urinal out of three. (The very definition of a cunt.)

Cunts who fight for equal rights and then want to be treated special.

Cunts who are taller than me.

Cunts who order Bulmers with no ice.

Breaking my seal.

Saying no to chump change – it’s Money bitch!

Hallo! (WIth inflection)

Hallochen…cunts.

People that get excited over quiz answers.

Guys who clap over shit.

KFC when they don’t take our voucher and charge us double.

Sauce.

Bighead cunts.

St Pauli Fans (Excluding Mexico who just needed a hoodie)

Being tired like a cunt.

Germans who speak English to other Germans.

Half beer cunts.

Cunts who don’t use smote enough (This is my personal favorite for its absurdness.)

Cunts who persist in clapping.

Missing out on having my balls massaged. (I must have been in the bathroom when this chance event occurred.)

German songs.

Questions about Bridget Jones (The movie, not the chick from Southside.)

Building Cunts – e.g. Kevin Costner

Cunts that stop me from doing Lord of the Dance.

It’s good to know someone else shares my propensity for this word.