Answers Arent At The Back

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Jesus's Birthday.... again!

Well another years has almost passed... The little Peter Pan Jesus has had another Birthday, and although he may not be appear any older in the nativity, I for one am... (No not in the Nativity you dumb ass!), I'm a little bit older, a little bit grayer, a little bit rounder, but still none the wiser.

Anyways, this Blog entry (Forgive me father, it been so so long since my last), is dedicated to a couple of ‘Friends of the Blog’, who over the last few months have whinged constantly because my updating frequency here has been less than consistent. (Work is at present quite demanding and other matters of life demand a certain degree of attention, time is an illusion, tea time doubly so...)

I know excuses; excuses; who cares? I don’t :o) Anyways, thanx to Dobby (Aka thebardbardfromposting), and to the Big Guy (Aka Bognor Blade), for their consistent support over this past year (OK, when I say support, I mean their steady stream of vaguely amusing P*ss Taking), and for their Christmas Pressies (Pictured Below), just a very subtle hint as to the direction they wish may wish me to pursue more vigorously in the coming New Year.

Anyways, that’s enough sentimental clap trap... Just a quick; have a very Happy Festive Seasonal people. May the New Year bring to you good fortune. May your chosen path be a wise one. May it lead to fulfilment and contentment, to happiness and security, and most importantly to peace.

What can be said in New Year rhymes,
That's not been said a thousand times?
The new years come, the old years go,
We know we dream, we dream we know.
We rise up laughing with the light,
We lie down weeping with the night.
We hug the world until it stings,
We curse it then and sigh for wings.
We live, we love, we woo, we wed,
We wreathe our prides, we sheet our dead.
We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear,
And that's the burden of a year.

Me I'm heading off to Seville for 5 days now, a chance to chill, eat plenty of Tapas, drinks Vats of Rioja and catch up on my Flamenco and Bull fighting... Olay! :O)

Happy New Year folks, and another chance for us all to get it right :O) Surely though, New Years can't be New Years if we don't have regrets... ;O)

Ciao Caio
Confused from Cambridge
I (Sometimes) Blog there4 I Am

2Comments:

Anonymous said...: Hi dude its nice to know you are back with the living?? The piss taking is all apart of letting you know we havent forgot you and we are supporting you.
But to send pressies like you sent me, a what i feel a close friend was more than taking the piss LOL:-)) It was fantastic! and like I said when we spoke it was very good & you seem to have your homour returned & to your best. You guys ejoy Espania but not too much & we will catch up early in 2008
Take care. BB AKA Big Guy!; 8:36 am
Lisa said...: Well, have you gotten through those books yet? :) Were those from Gem?

Happy New Year!; 12:51 am

Blogroll Me!

The Register - Biting the hand that feeds IT

"I know why you're here. I know what you've been doing... why you hardly sleep, why you live alone, and why night after night, you sit by your computer...."

**********

D: "Where is everybody, Hol?"
H: "They're dead, Dave."
D: "Who is?"
H: "Everybody, Dave."
D: "What, Captain Hollister?"
H: "Everybody's dead, Dave."
D: "What, Todhunter?"
H: "Everybody's dead, Dave."
D: "What, Selby?"
H: "They're all dead. Everybody's dead, Dave."
D: "Petersen isn't, is he?"
H: "Everybody is dead, Dave."
D: "Not Chen?"
H: "Gordon Bennett! Yes! Chen, everybody. Everybody's dead, Dave"
D: "Rimmer?"
H: "He's dead, Dave. Everybody's dead. Everybody is dead, Dave!"
D: "Wait. Are you trying to tell me everybody's dead?"
H: "I wish I'd never let him out in the first place."

**********

"I know most of you have been where I am tonight: the crash site of unrequited love. You've asked yourself, how did I get here? What was it about--was it her smile, Was it the way she crossed her legs, the turn of her ankle? The poignant vulnerability of her slender wrists? What are these elusive and ephemeral things that ignite passion in the human heart?...."

"That's an age-old question; it's perfect food for thought on a bright midsummer's night. Hey, you said it best, Will: "Love looks not with eyes but with the mind, And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind." Yeah....."

**********

"Well one day I was at home threatening the kids when I looks out through the hole in the wall and sees this tank pull up and out gets one of Dinsdale's boys, so he comes in nice and friendly and says Dinsdale wants to have a word with me, so he chains me to the back of the tank and takes me for a scrape round to Dinsdale's place and Dinsdale's there in the conversation pit with Doug and Charles Paisley, the baby crusher, and two film producers and a man they called 'Kierkegaard', who just sat there biting the heads of whippets and Dinsdale says 'I hear you've been a naughty boy Clement' and he splits me nostrils open and saws me leg off and pulls me liver out and I tell him my name's not Clement and then... he loses his temper and nails me head to the floor..."

**********

"If u hold back anything Ill kill ya. If u bend the truth or I think your bending the truth, Ill kill ya. If u forget anything Ill kill ya. In fact ur gonna have to work very hard to stay alive. Now do u understand everything Ive said? Because if u dont, Ill kill ya...."

**********

"The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. "

**********

The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.

**********

Love comes when manipulation stops. When you think more about the other person than about his or her reaction to you. When you dare to reveal yourself fully. When you dare to be vulnerable.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Jesus's Birthday.... again!

2Comments:

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