Adverts what annoy me

This advert for Tresemme annoys me, in the video some beauty editor for Reveal (whatever that is) advertises the wonders of Tresemme, until, shock horror, that chap from that channel 4 hair salon show thing invades the advert shoot steeling the bottle of Tresemme from the beauty editor.But does the beauty editor for reveal looked bothered, annoyed or shocked that her advertisement shoot has been invaded? No, she just stares blankly looking mildly constipated. But then maybe thats the real horror of having your advert shoot being interrupted by someone who isn't even a Z list celebrity, they'll make you shit yourself (if only a little).

Cuntry Walk time!

WARNING: If you don't like looking at photographs, might I recommend you skip this blog.Today in the means of being productive I decided to go on a country walk (or cuntry walk if we want to be crude), down a stretch of public bridleway that I hold most dear to me, over four years of intense schooling in which I gained my qualifications (like GCSE German) this bridleway would be become very dear to my heart, there were good times (the sun), there were bad times (the rain), there were confusing time (the hail), but I came to know this public bridleway as my second brother (after the cat). Join me with your hearts open to embrace the beauty of the Worth Way public bridleway in the beautiful West Side Sussex. Here is the duck pond full of crap. This one time back when I were lad before I gained me qualifications (like GCSE German) I fell in there, well I say one time, it might have been more than once. Needless to say from looking at the contents of the pond I must have smelt fucking horrible after my dips in there. But back in those days the kids would praise you for smelling like toxic waste. It was like a beauty scar some might say.How some kid gets world wide media coverage for going missing and this Harris Hawk going missing get's no publicity I'll never know. I would love to inform you I found the Harris hawk on my travels, but alas sadly not, I don't really know much of Harris Hawks work unlike his brother Chesney, I know all about his work (and I mean work, that one hit wonder scum boat).Here are some railway sleepers, well I assume they are, to be honest I wouldn't really know what railway sleepers looked like if I got struck in the face by one (but if they are what I am assuming they look like in the photo, than face sleeper combination probably equals quite a bang. Ouch. They'd fucking knock out my eyes). There used to be a railway line down here didn't you know? Until the evil Dr. Beeching closed it down. And thats why the residants of Sussex curse Dr. Beeching, and you just know that all the evil kids out there in Sussex have been named Beeching in line with popular conception that Dr. Beeching was sent here by the devil. Oh shit, how did that get in there, no one is supposed to know of my horse shit fascination. But now its out in the open, I guess I must explain the hardships I had when I were a lad just doing your qualifications (like GCSE German) and the kids would think you were uncool if you didn't cycle in the horse shit. Like the toxic waste daring, kids became more hardcore the older they got.Here is a bridge, I would tell you the story of when the Bridge collapsed and us teenagers rebuilt it only on enthusiasm and a desire to help the local community, but I remember that story isn't believable in the slightest, and I can't think of a decent punchline. So let's just all salute the Bridge. All hail the bridge.

And this is where our cuntry walk time must end, I hope you've enjoyed the walk, felt you were there and want to embrace this public bridleway, but not too much, there's horse shit on there, quite a bit actually, really smelly stuff. Goodbye and thank you.

Vindictive Shit

Student's aren't the most cleanest of creatures, although I do shower folks! It may take us a few weeks to empty a bin, such as our bathroom bin, which was full of loads and loads of loo rolls. I being the restless sort and the creative sort, started building a tower that stems from the bin one poo ago and have since progressed in continuing the building of this tower. It's going be a welcome present for the next tennats. Except my housemate has now decided to extend the loo roll tower so high it's now taller than me and intimidates me everytime I pee, and stops me from building it any higher.Shame.

Catch up post

The last couple of days have been quite interesting blog? Want to hear about them? It might be quite long. No? Oh well, scroll down to the end of the blog and look at the pic of my arse and then leave.

Not wishing to start up a theme in my blog posts, but my first point on the agenda is poo. I'm getting the poo in early because it give me plenty of oppurtunity for some creative writing by inserting as many poo puns as possible. Did you know I'm on a graphic design degree of sorts? No I never talk about it, I'm not quite sure why not, maybe there's just not much comedy to be extracted from it. Anyway as part of the design degree of sorts I and someone else was selected (guess I must be pleasing some people of the graphic desing degree of sorts) to do some design work for the Royal Society (which apparently is a big deal, but I'm quite niave of science, and don't really understand science, that's what happens when you have a science teacher of dad). One of the features of the display will be a gut model, which we foolish agreed to be shown, I not quite realising it was 4 valves passing poo (real poo) around through pipes simulating the colon. Apparently at the exhibtion the real thing will only have brown coloured liquid, probably for the best, poo smells folks. Geh! Poo!

I entered the bowles of London (thanks Dan) last night to watch the Mitchell and Webb comdians (who do have some shit on the C.V. people) with their cohorts to record another part of their quite good radio sketch show. It was solid comedy stuff as usual, all the strongest material was on the first night and sadly the quality of the material may have declined a little (Geh!). The heat in studio certainly didn't assist my comedy enjoyment factor. Blasted heat. But I enjoyed seeing the comedy with the Cheryl and Dan and their respective cohorts. The comedy was certainly not of the quality where I can poo puns, but the shit storm on Oxford Street was a bit annoying when walking down it. And I was annoyed in the bowles of me on the bowles of London (Oxford Street) when I couldn't find any good shitting points, I'm not paying to shit, and the one in Virgin was closed, and I just can't work out how the fuck to use those McDonalds taps on Oxford Street. Don't worry, my hands got quite the thorough clean after I had seen the gut model. I'm so sorry that I've now got the delussion in my blog posts that you wanted to hear of my pooing woes.

On Thursday night I might have well shat on the stage at karaoke and would have got a more welcome reception. "But Richard hasn't heard you sing" was enough encouragement I needed to do Karaoke. I decided it would be fucking hilarious to do Avril Lavigne's Sk8er Boi (I almost wrote Sk8er Boil, now imagine the songs, boiling fresh skaters!). I got booed during it, and as not a regular karoke singer I often forget I can't hold a tune, admitedly I was egging on some of the booing, but apparently there was cheering at the end (that I'd finished) and people were singing along to it (why weren't they singing louder over my voice eh?). Video footage may exist of this haunting rendition, my friend's phone was definetly pointed at the stage, and I never quite got confirmation he did record it). No one would want such a video on YouTube anyway. Would hurt their ears.

And now as promised, the photo of my arse, I could explain the context to the photo, but why bother. Poo comes out my arse folks!

I'm feeling sadistic today blog...

...so I'm not going to allow myself to go upstairs and poo until I've done this long MeMe that Dan did. Christ I need a poo. It feels a little runny.

Are your parents married or divorced?:
Married, they celebrated their silver recently, well a couple of years back. Wooo! Marraige! Carriage! Clock!

Are you a vegetarian?:
No. I like my meat too much, and have no conscience.

Do you believe in Heaven?:
No, gay clubs don't exist, their is no such thing as gay culture, I'm not even convinced gays even exist (Irony folks!)

Have you ever come close to dying?:
I might be if I don't do this poo soon.

What jewellery do you wear 24/7?:
I am from the ghettos so do where the bling and the bling all day and night long when out with my dawgs.

Are you eating?:
Nothing, that would just add more to shit out. Do I look like I want to do an even bigger poo than I'm already going to do.

Do you eat the stems of broccoli:
Yes, they're the best bit.

Do you wear makeup?:
Loads, I'm not seen dead out with out a bit of lippy, foundation, mascara and fake tits.

Would you ever have plastic surgery?:
I would like a seel put over my bottom to hold in my shit.

What do you wear to bed?:
Pyjamas, cos I'm cool like that.

Have you ever done anything illegal?:
Illegal downloading? Yes. Real immoral illegal? Don't be silly, I have a conscience, well a limited one.

Can you roll your tongue?:
I think so.

Do You have a boyfriend or girlfriend?:
Girlfriend? Why that's my favourite song by Avril Lavigne that I love singing a tad too much, enough for my sister's boyfriend said to me "sort it out mate"

Do you believe in Abortions?:
Well with my limited conscience I think they're morally right.

What is your Hair colour?:
GINGER!

Future child’s name, boy and girl?:
Whitewash for my son, and Piegon for my girl.

Do you smoke?:
Nope. Can I smoke out my poo?

If you could go anywhere in the world where would it be?
The Former Yougslavian Republic of Macedonia, just because I want my photo taken outside a sign for that country. Or Scunthorpe so I can put my hands around the rude word in the name.

Do you sleep with stuffed animals?:
My Yoda!

If you won the lottery, what would you do first?:
I'd buy myself a museum, I dunno which one, that one that's a bit up the arse. Oh shit arse, I need a poo.

Gold or Silver?:
Blinging with the minging blud.

Hamburger or hot dog?:
Hamburger, I'd rather eat one then watch a dog pant inside a car.

If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?:
I don't want to eat food now, I'm just needing a poo.

City, beach or country?:
Poo!

What was the last thing you touched?:
Touching Cloth.

Where did you eat last?:
Chips from Mr.Cod (what a name) on the way back from dissapointing student night out.

When’s the last time you cried?:
Why are there always these questions, ask me when the last time I pooed, because it was two second ago in my pants. Not really.

Do you read blogs?:
I think so.

What colour are your pants?
BROWN!

Would you ever go out dressed like the opposite sex?:
Might be a laugh, and reminds me I have to drag up for a friend 21st birthday in November.

Ever been involved with the police?:
I might do if they make holding in poos illegal, which they should.

Oh fuck it, I can't hold it in anymore and this MeMe is really long like the type of sausage shape I might just produce, toodles.