01. X is extreme; obviously
02. X is algebraic; the universally intuitive variable
03. X is androgynous; until it forms a chromosome pair
04. X is je ne sais quoi
05. X is vulgar; red neon does nicely
06. X is retro
07. X is now; I wish they’d make up their minds whether it’s called Gen X or Gen Y, though…
08. X is ambiguous; we’re calling it the X-Ray?
09. X is abbreviational; Xmission, X86, etc.
10. X is puzzling
11. X is powerful
12. X is prohibitive
13. X is provocative
14. X is prefixual; as in “my ex-BFF, Jill”
15. X is girly
16. X is manly
17. X is musical; Los Angeles
18. X is religious; see: Xmas
19. X is dangerous; see: Jolly Roger
20. X is sexual; three is company
21. X is heroic; just ask Jean Grey
22. X is new and improved; but we’re still calling it the X-Ray??
23. X is mysterious; ever played Scotland Yard?
24. X marks the spot; good for Piratey Swag
“Better watch your soul; it’ll leave you like a hundred bucks”
Scissor Sisters – Filthy/Gorgeous
Belinda Carlisle – Leave A Light On For Me
Electric Light Orchestra – Mr. Blue Sky
I remember how, when I was young, I often sat by the window, gazing out at the colours and wishing that when I grew up I could be one of those people who defined COOL. Don’t assume that I wanted to be a pop star or hip designer… I wanted to be the head of a corporation bent on monopoly that decided what its weak-minded consumers ate, watched, drank, wore and smoked. Or better yet, the head of a single organization bent on monopoly, represented by a bunch of apparently unassociated conglomerates that divide among themselves the rights to influence individual aspects of their weak-minded consumers’ lives.
Fine, I lied… this only occurred to me today while I was practicing my domination technique. When I was a kid I probably wanted to grow up into a tree.
It’s so utterly miserable that no matter how much you might want to be original, almost everything you are is not what you are. It needn’t be subliminal programming that countercultures and conspiracy theorists like to believe in. As far as I’ve seen, it’s all right out there in broad daylight, in every medium that exists. Everything is projected onto you in one way or another, maybe purposefully, sometimes ricocheting off the next person, but when one of those rays eventually sneaks one of its dirty little tendrils around you, you’re already the newest victim of urban culture.
Being a tree would be nice, though. Trees are cool.
“The frontline is everywhere, there be no shelter here.”
Rage Against The Machine – Wake Up
Joe Anderson and Salma Hayek – Happiness Is A Warm Gun
The rise of Floyd!
Little Ernie was having a problem with his homework. “Dad,” he asked, “What is the difference between ‘anger’ and ‘exasperation’?”
“Well, son,” said his father, “I’ll give you a practical demonstration.”
His father picked up the phone and dialled a number.
“Hello,” said a voice at the other end.
“Hello,” said Ernie’s father. “Is Melvin there?”
“There is no one called Melvin here!” the voice replied. “Why don’t you look up numbers before you dial them?”
“You see?” said Ernie’s father. “That man was not at all happy with our call. But watch this!”
He then dialled the number again, and says, “Hello, is Melvin there?”
“Now look here!” the voice said angrily. “I told you there is no Melvin here! You’ve got a lot of nerve calling again!”
“Did you hear that?” Ernie’s father asked. “That was ‘anger’. Now, we’ll see what ‘exasperation’ is!”
He dialled once again. And on hearing the voice at the other end, Ernie’s father said: “Hello! This is Melvin. Have there been any calls for me?”
Young girl: If I go up to your room, do you promise to be good?
Young man: Baby, I promise to be FANTASTIC!
Bacteria: The rear entrance to a cafeteria
Dogma: The mother of puppies
Ultimate: The last person to marry
Vice versa: Dirty poems
A rather inebriated fellow on a bus was tearing up a newspaper into tiny pieces and throwing them out the window.
“Excuse me,” said the woman sitting next to him. “But, would you mind explaining what you’re doing?”
“It scares away the elephants,” replied the drunk.
“But I don’t see any elephants around here,” said the woman.
“Bloody effective, i’nnit?” crowed he.
Har...
Damien Rice – 9 Crimes
Radiohead – Fake Plastic Trees
(TY - Reader's Digest)
Two-five is here at last. It’s not as though it dropped in unexpectedly, but two-four was bad enough without adding another year. I expect/want to live till I’m 55 (or did I say 2055 AD?) so I may be close to halfway there already.Floyd: Wow, did you use your fingers to count that? Happy Birthday, doofus.Considering that I’ve only really gone about life for about 11 years and slept one third of that time away, that leaves me with some 7 and change years done and an actual 20 to go. All my versatile number crunching may be obvious arithmetic, but I’m bad at telling this sort of thing.I hate my computer. I want to write for the sake of writing, but as soon as I sit down in front of the keyboard, the words dry up until I find a half decent laxative. I don’t write when I’m emotional, I write simply for the enjoyment. I am probably my own biggest fan, not because I’m narcissistic but because I can go back as an unbiased reader and judge everything I’ve ever written and sometimes hate it, but sometimes love it too. And I love that I can love my own stuff.Floyd: There’s a word for self-lovin’ y’know…The rest of this post: CANCELED in favour of self-loving.“If I could be who you wanted, All the time”Opus – Live Is LifeSheryl Crow – If It Makes You HappyNow frequenting: Wendy Molyneux at
http://fakeinterviewswithrealcelebrities.blogspot.com
It is difficult to get along, to match minds these days. The world grows ever rapidly and as more people populate the planet, it will be increasingly more difficult to get along, to find a matching of minds in those days.
Happiness seems to need to be earned (which is not always a bad thing) so it is probably a lot easier to find comfort in knowing that your conveniently begotten sorrow makes you more alike the rest, than your happiness can.
Since one is alive, one is likely at any given moment, to ask the universally clichéd and redundant question of “Why do I live?” The truth is that the answer holds neither importance nor value; the real question one might want to ask is “Why should I live?”
All things must die and therefore, one must too, at whatever time is deemed proper. But, since one cannot know if said time shall be struck by the clock within a reasonable count of seconds, days or years, one can always assume that the time is near at hand, so as to comfortably take into account all that is required to complete what is deemed to be a satisfactory lifetime.
I’ve never stopped to think either way, because I already know that I don’t know either answer. It is less trouble to ignore the question than to be haunted by the knowledge of your own ignorance.
Not knowing the answer to the first question is no crime. Most would believe (or want to) that some unrevealed purpose has been pre-ordained for them and that they are merely fulfilling their respective prophecies, however insignificant/not they may be.
But not knowing the answer to the second question is abuse of the right to survive. If I don’t know why I love to live, what is the point? Lots to learn as yet.
Floyd: Fuckin’ eloquent as usual, eh? Here’s a tip, MEET NEW WOMEN! Then we’ll see how you find time to keep spouting this morose bullshit.
“Life, is a single skip for joy”
Matt Willis – Crash
Peter Sarstedt – Where Do You Go To, My Lovely?
01. X is extreme; obviously
