Friday, September 23, 2005
Ahoy hoy!
Hope you are all acceptably well and feeling the joys of autumn around your nethers. I'm in surprisingly good health if you don't count some random knobbly bits on me groin and a worryingly insistant itch. I also went to a dentist for the first time in six years or so yesterday. It was a strange experience. I've never been frightened of going, I just couldn't get a booking anywhewre for love nor money, in the end Gill had to use her insiders knowledge to get me an appointment. Needless to say, the layers of sediment that had been building up had to be removed by a rather fair young dentist wielding what felt like an anglegrinder, which had been passed to her by her barely hominoid milkfed gimp (thanks, Black Books). I had thought it traditional that it's the dental nurses who were the fresh young hotties, not the dentists themselves, but I guess I've been out of the game a long time. Anyways, once the proceedure was underway I couldn't see anything through the veil of tears and flying plaque debris...
The car is dead, by the way. It left me in the lurch (or more accurately, lurched me near to death) once too many, and then was condemned to death by Gill's dad, who could see that it had been on fire at some point in the past, and the fact that it had passed it's MOT was little short of a miracle. It barely made it to the junkyard. The man who cheerfully sold me two dusty, septugenarian headrests (on which, in all likelyhood, some poor bastard had expired) for £10 the previous week, relieved me of the car, headrests and all, with no offer of recompense at all. I couldn't shake the feeling that the onus would be on me to ask for payment, but I hadn't been in the situation before, I didn't know what to do, I felt vaguely threatened by his barely hominoid milkfed gimp who was lumbering around tearing whole panels of old cars using his toes, and the near-deafening hum from the powercables overhead, along with the nearby graveyard all combined into some sort of Lynchian nighmare scenario where I was more likely to feature in a crimewatch reconstruction than receive payment for the rustbucket. Ah well, not so easy come, easy go.
Kult Film Korner.
Times running out, so just two kwik shouts out to 'Wisconsin Death Trip' which was like a tourist board film made by particularly depressed goths with access to a century's worth of film archives- well worth a look, and 'A dirty shame' which is recommended to all John Waters fans, and everyone else can suck on my love truncheon.
Aido 'Let's go sexin' Potato.
Hope you are all acceptably well and feeling the joys of autumn around your nethers. I'm in surprisingly good health if you don't count some random knobbly bits on me groin and a worryingly insistant itch. I also went to a dentist for the first time in six years or so yesterday. It was a strange experience. I've never been frightened of going, I just couldn't get a booking anywhewre for love nor money, in the end Gill had to use her insiders knowledge to get me an appointment. Needless to say, the layers of sediment that had been building up had to be removed by a rather fair young dentist wielding what felt like an anglegrinder, which had been passed to her by her barely hominoid milkfed gimp (thanks, Black Books). I had thought it traditional that it's the dental nurses who were the fresh young hotties, not the dentists themselves, but I guess I've been out of the game a long time. Anyways, once the proceedure was underway I couldn't see anything through the veil of tears and flying plaque debris...
The car is dead, by the way. It left me in the lurch (or more accurately, lurched me near to death) once too many, and then was condemned to death by Gill's dad, who could see that it had been on fire at some point in the past, and the fact that it had passed it's MOT was little short of a miracle. It barely made it to the junkyard. The man who cheerfully sold me two dusty, septugenarian headrests (on which, in all likelyhood, some poor bastard had expired) for £10 the previous week, relieved me of the car, headrests and all, with no offer of recompense at all. I couldn't shake the feeling that the onus would be on me to ask for payment, but I hadn't been in the situation before, I didn't know what to do, I felt vaguely threatened by his barely hominoid milkfed gimp who was lumbering around tearing whole panels of old cars using his toes, and the near-deafening hum from the powercables overhead, along with the nearby graveyard all combined into some sort of Lynchian nighmare scenario where I was more likely to feature in a crimewatch reconstruction than receive payment for the rustbucket. Ah well, not so easy come, easy go.
Kult Film Korner.
Times running out, so just two kwik shouts out to 'Wisconsin Death Trip' which was like a tourist board film made by particularly depressed goths with access to a century's worth of film archives- well worth a look, and 'A dirty shame' which is recommended to all John Waters fans, and everyone else can suck on my love truncheon.
Aido 'Let's go sexin' Potato.
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