Shooting a load... of photos

I've uploaded some pics to flickr. My first ones, how exciting! A flickr virgin, if you will. Please enjoy, and tell me you like them (*waves fist at you menacingly*)

Captain Sulu is gay!!

He really really is! I'm not sure how to react...

I love naked people

Some religious people kept coming to the door at my friends place, so like each time they'd just tell them they were some other religion.

Eventually they ran out of reglions so my friend's mum answered the door stark raving naked to scare them off.

It worked.

Dispossession

Today I went to the gym but it was closed and stuff was being repossessed! :-o!

So instead, I went and got a haircut.


Moral: You can always fill time with a head job.

"Where is my cow? That is not my cow!"

Being aussie, I am thoroughly amused when international guests do dumbass stuff in australia.

Guys don't make passes at bois with fat asses

I just ate half a quiche and i dont even feel full. How can that be!!?!! *cries* *runs to weigh self*

(and grrr, blogger ate my post.)

Yes, Master.

I bought $90 of health food supplements cos my personal trainer is hot and he said so. I still don't think this is a bad thing :P

Fellatio McCocksucker

Just finished enjoying the "Hornblower" series of tv movies. They are excellent, and I'm not usually one for period dramas.

But come on, the guys name... Horatio Hornblower. I mean really. The books were only written early last century. The author dude *knew*.

It is my professional opinion as a person with an honours degree in psychology that Horatio is a big homo gaylord. I haven't read the books but Wikipedia informs me he's depicted as a very conflicted young man, full of "reservation and self doubt". He's shy, isolated from those around him, self-conscious and lonely. Helloooooooo. *Takes out fresh pack of cigarrettes* Young fag anyone?

Plus he's really smart and good with his men *giggles*. His wives (plural) never understand him. He doesn't like capital punishment but is a fan of spankings to discipline naughty men. Oh, look at this "bundle of sticks".

His best buddy in most of the movies is Archie Kennedy, played by the delectably hot and nelly Jamie Bamber who I've blogged about previously. Hornblower tenderly nurses a sick Archie back to health in a prison cell. Like, thats two gay fantasies in one.

I rest my case.

"Emu taking a vicious dump"

I am sorry I didnt think of this first... I agree with the author, it rather does make you reconsider the value of humanity *snicker*

Un-wobbly bottom

My doctor tells me my cholesterol is 1.5. Apparently like 3.6 is average for heart disease risk or something. As long as you're below 5 you're ok i think.

I think this means I can snort juicey fatty bacon and not have a heart attack. Yay me!

Personal Trainer

I had a personal training session on Wednesday and it was shcarewy! Well, just a widdle.

The trainer was really hot of course, but that's what made it intimidating. I'm all confused about my gym program now. But he was really nice tho.

He made this joke when we were talking about doing ab crunches and like he said it's silly bending at the hips cos that just works the hip flexors. Cos like, hip flexors are just two inches of muscle near the hips. "We don't care about anything thats just two inches near the waist." *giggles* I like going to a gay gym.

Last.fm

Omg, this is so fab. Last.fm can track what you've been listening to and offers similar artists and songs.

It even streams music to you in a customised cd quality radio station.

*cough* Soz, not that i'm one for advertising other sites lol.

Wooooozy

I had a blood test today and I felt woozy afterwards so the nurse had me lie down.

Moral: The best way to take a prick is on your back.

Eating cock

My friend's brother once ate chicken at KFC and got really sick. So he had to poop in a bag. Then they gave him a few thousand dollars.

Moral: You can eat cock for cash.

OMG some mom's are sooooo spastic

I was in Rebel Sport yesterday and there was this mum with her son. He was like 13 years old or something. And omg, the mum called over a sales guy to ask for help picking a groin cup (cricket box) for the boy! She was like talking about sizes and things! Like Oh. My. God. Like geez, talking about the poor boys testicles and package in public. *Shakes head*

Hot... steamy.... giggle action!

What do you call a lezbien with fat fingers?



Well hung.
Bwahahahahaha.

Crunchalies

Like dude, this guy can kick himself in the nutz!!

That's talent :D

Please spanx me

I know I'm tewwibly nordi for not posting in such a long time! I must be punished *blushes* I suggest leather restraints, metal handcuffs can get uncomfo...*cough* never mind.

Because I am busy futzing over buying a new compuda, here is a bit of fiction I wrote way back in my high school days. It's supposed to be a 'descriptive piece'. It still amuses me and maybe one day I'll flesh it out into a proper story.

Rememeber, it was high school. Be kind.

The City

The City was the underground wasteland that had assembled after The War. The War: in all history, there was only one war that had any meaning now. It was The War that had metamorphosed three billion years of evolution into vapour; The War that had burnt life into choking clouds of ash that hovered above the fractured surface of what had been Earth. All other wars were inconsequential.

Before The War, The City was built as an underground refuge for the squandering bourgeoisie that now hung as a stifling dark cloud Outside. After the war, The City drew the surviving rabble as maggots to carrion. Twelve levels of carefully architectured human construction suddenly thrust outwards in a desperate attempt to contain the colony of the sufferers. The Maggots had tunnelled haphazardly through the earth like grubs desperately gnawing through flesh to keep themselves alive. It was a growth that moved like a cancer yet ironically held the life that held humanity back from extinction. In a brief time, The City had exploded into a dark warren; a bewildering hive of creaking metal where survivors didn't live--they lurked.

Survivors nestled themselves among shadows in the long, wide corridors that were The City. They sat huddled, clutching blankets or themselves in desperate attempts to keep out the fear. The dark was barely pushed back by the wearily flickering, sparsely placed electric lanterns. Few people moved in the dark; the only reason for it was food. Occasional rustles of movement were heard by the grotesquely deformed ears of survivors; but more often the alert ears heard the frightening shrieks of the insane reverberating along the metal walls. Yet, no matter what came from outside, Survivors forever heard the sounds in their own heads. There were quiet whispering voices that spurred them into deviancy--prompted them to thrust a knife between the shoulder blades of the already dead, or to gnaw at their own hands. And even the lucky who had no voices perenially heard their own tense heart-beat.

While survivors could still hear sound, they no longer smelt the foul sour odour of themselves; nor did they feel the acrid smoke that forever stung their noses. The smoke billowed from fires lit by those with enough wits to know they had to keep warm. Around the flaming bundles of clothes, survivors rocked gently back and forth. The more sane hummed to themselves ancient songs or rhymes. None could remember when they had learnt the songs. References to time had no meaning. Time was inconsequential. They had eternity to sit and hum.

This was The City.