Britain's angriest failures

so we were sitting round the camp fire this week. person x was talking about their chlamidia test, and how they entered you into a competition to win a sum of money as a reward. two trains of thought left the conversation station: 1) it's well fucking sad that such STIs are now so common that people have to be bribed into taking a test for them, and 2) myself and the others in the conversation were at disagreement with person x as to the neccessity of our having a test, since, personally, i'm less sexually active than Walt Disney's frozen head. 'dead from the waste [sic] down' and wierd and something had better happen on valentines day or you fuckers are going to pay.

edit: what i wrote above doesn't make sense. if things were really bad, people wouldn't need bribing, they'd have to get tested. but then Chlam is has no short term syptoms, so maybe an incentive is necessarry.. and my distaste obviously comes from some moral assumption about temporal polygamy. whatever. as i said, i'm an agnry failiure, and my opinions should be read with that in mind.

we went to see team america, world police. i invited Thom, but he'd already seen it on a rip. i invited person y, but she didn't get back to me. the way text conversations are going these days (they're slowing down, have you noticed?), i expected her to text me back the next day and say sorry, no, i had plans. she didn't. what she did do, though, was walk straight past us without 'noticing'. in the cinema. i invited someone to the cinema (passively, it must be said, with my usual self-depricating slant) and not only does she not say 'no, i'm busy,' not then and not since, but she's going to the bloody cinema at that time anyway, and then walks straight past me! L says she genuinely didn't see us. the film itself, was good. needed more silly humour, like the hammer joke, rather than endless jokes about how crap puppets are HOWEVER the 'look at the shit puppets' as a metaphor for hollywood films, linked in with the critique of american foriegn policy, was worth making a film about, and then to stuff in piss-takes of everyone else - protestors, the U.N., tyrants, is very clever, but you really only need to see the first half-hour. maybe they should have cut it down to an hour and had it as a tv special?
it brings up an interesting issue about Supermarionation, Gerry Anderson's technique he used in his puppet shows. i can't remember what it was.

andy stayed a merry while with me, during which we made photo stories of the endings for street fighter. these beauties will be online soon; i suggested our next project should be the endings for mortal kombat. i just checked them out here. they're absolutely rubbish, no wonder i couldn't remember any. however, if you read any of them, read Raiden's, as his at least has a sense of humour.
on monday we had a rebessica practice which was good.
on tuesday we went to see Ewigkeit, Basted (turbo-glam-rock) couldn't play, due to injury, so the first band were coming on as we entered.

Trauma Pet; two girls and a minidisk player. it was silly. the singer was caked in makeup, completely OTT trash-goth get-up and had uninspired melodies. the other girl was enthusiastically playing a bass guitar that covered her other wise exposed knickers (wooo!). the music was fairly tasteful though.

fraudstein(also a duo, but unlike the Pet, they don't allow external links to their images) started what we thought would be a synth-metal act, but afer one song put down the guiatr and went more down the Johnny Violent route to hardcore. and then ewigkeit came on, surprisingly with a full band (plus backing tracks). we stayed for a few good songs and then piled into the gloustcer before 11. on our way to the bar, 'know' by the Down came on, so i hit the floor, and then they played fucking panasonic youth by the Plan. i t didn't get any better than that, even after i'd had five vodkas poured down me. so at some point we left.
wednseday astra was playing at the prince albert, but we didn't make it out of the house, choosing an evening of grass the game and eating.
thrusday was team america and school work
friday we did the SF2 photo shoots and stuff
saturday i bought frank miller's 'the dark knight returns' after Steve's soft sell: 'in '86, when it came out, you were like, wow! this amazing fascist critque of batman, but now it just seems that miller himself is a fascist.' and Andy went up to london to see Jo, who i've not seen for ages.

i made a new comic - the adventures of sine wave! i might scan it in to show you, but it was concieved on the back of a post card so it might only reach it's intended victim. i was thinking about introducing a couple more characters, but they'd have to be (rendered as waves), and that's my favourite thing ever so i couldn't possibly rip it off.

i found this after i read the photo credits on the back of my copy of the princess bride.

knock knock jokes
knock knock.
(you) who's there?
treblinka who?
"try blinking your eyes really fast, it's like being in a disco!!!!"

Knock knock
Who's there?
Auschwitz who?
Auschwitz your papers with mine, now you get to go on the death train!

Knock knock
Who's There
Guantanamo who?
Guantanamo Mowlem

by me and ed.

i bought happiness, imprinted into 7 inches of black vinyl; a 750 pressing of Gruff Rhys' new single (is it just a ploy to release Furries records through placid casual instead of sony?). it was great, i felt like a member of an exclusive club. later, i learnt it was but a club of fools, for both sides of the single are contained on his forthcoming album. there was no point in owning the record other than to just say 'i am one of 750 people who own the gruff rhys single.' dafty.
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