tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22998115321219395992024-02-20T16:21:40.544-08:00Midnite momentFrom the warped reccesses of my mind to your screenRidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-43314536251027351852014-07-13T05:30:00.003-07:002014-07-13T05:30:47.973-07:00And then nothing happened<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white;">One of the major problems with writing a blog when you have a chronic illness, is that you often have massive chunks of your life where nothing happens.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">And worst still, is that you can't bring yourself to make shit up, because really your whole world has become a non-existent void. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Sure you could attempt to educate and inform whatever passing inter-webber happens upon your page, to the daily slog of just being alive. But that is a big, and massively depressing, subject to tackle. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Of course there are plenty of people who manage just that task, with better grace and far fewer swears than me. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">So if they can do it, why can't I?</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Well you have to know one very important thing about me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">My brain is fuelled by boobs and sexually propositioning inanimate objects. Er i should say not in a weird "That guy's a pervert" kind of way, it's just how my brain gets it's giggles. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Which means, sadly, if I'm not in the mood to make dick jokes or shamelessly flirt with a talking elevator, then my brain simply refuses to come up with anything else to say.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Over the last 2 years my health has been particularly shitty, and my brain fucked off and left me. I've been virtually housebound, my on line presence dwindled to nothingness and I became a non-person. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Sure that's terrible and at least one person out there is going to feel bad for me, it's just the way my life has ended up. The worst part, the bit that sucks the most without a doubt, has been the lack adult humour. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">So for the love of Batman, will some-one tell me a boobie joke</span></div>
RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-42844593035773772342012-07-18T16:41:00.000-07:002012-07-18T16:41:16.049-07:00To the dark side and back<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">I recently had an interesting experience with alcohol, and not the good kind of interesting. You see deep down, well not that deep down, I'm an arsehole. Add a shit load of mostly Tequila and I become a complete dick. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">Overall I had a good time, and so did those around me, but i couldn't stop myself from being a dick. There was a guy there being a complete and utter sleaze, and I found myself planning his murder. While I'm sure most people have had similar fantasies, I was quietly collecting the items I would need...which needless to say wasn't good. Of course I didn't go through with my plans, even though he was giving a particularly hard time to someone i care a great deal about.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">Then I did something a little stupid, which I'm quite ashamed of really. I hid a note professing my love for someone I really shouldn't. Regret set in and my Tequila fuelled mind wandered off to where it usually goes when I've drank too much. I've always had this fantasy of disappearing, of walking off into the night and never been seen again. No-one notices and the world is a better place. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">The guilt of my previous thoughts and actions lead my imagination to assembling notes for all those I care about, planning my suicide and wondering if being the first martyred bomber against a terrorist would be a suitably ironic death.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">At this point the really stupid part of my brain kicked in and I imagined all suicide bombers to be tanked on Mexico's finest, and if the U.N. would just go to war on Tequila then the world would be a happier place.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">I guess we all have to take the consequences of our actions, have some self control and run when there's Tequila on offer</span></div>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-74851525194781145132012-06-18T16:57:00.002-07:002012-06-18T16:57:26.948-07:00Out of gas<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;">Don't you hate it when life stalls on you?</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">Both Almighty D and myself have been suffering worse health recently, which has put SurvivalBox on hold for the moment. I'm having trouble writing due to lack of motivation and my new paint shed hasn't built itself yet.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">Life in general seems to be on hold. Nothing of interest, nothing of romance, nothing of anything really. Which sucks, but also leaves a lot of time to think. </span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">Why is life so complicated? As civilisation progresses, we make things more and more ridiculous to keep track of. Sub-cultures pop up every day, fashions change, labels get re-labelled. Children lose their innocence younger, but grow up later. We watch faked reality tv shows and apparently everything is out to kill us. </span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">And yet somehow we thrive. The human race takes it all in and asks "What's next?"</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">My life has stalled, stuck in bed alone feeling like crap yet again....but what's next?</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">Will I feel better tomorrow? Will they find a cure? Will I meet someone special? Am I actually going to be a success at anything I do? What will my next big adventure be?</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">I don't know about you, but I can't wait to find out.</span></div>
<br />RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-13899447927210519482012-04-14T13:08:00.002-07:002012-04-14T13:18:21.100-07:00Two Idiots and the Internet part 2<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Update</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">I've set up the blog side of the project</span></div><div align="center"><a href="http://survivalbox.blogspot.co.uk/">http://survivalbox.blogspot.co.uk/</a></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">which is currently named In Case of Emergency.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">As soon as we've finished the first vid I will be setting up a YouTube channel and linking both here and there. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">We are also working on a product line which will be on a made to order system to start with, and probably as daft as the vids.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">More information on both closer to time of release.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:webdings;color:#ff0000;"></span> </div>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-84087166811028292002012-03-22T20:34:00.002-07:002012-03-22T20:53:15.771-07:00Two idiots and the internet<div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">So quite a long time ago, Almighty D and myself kicked around an idea. For an even longer time people have been almost literally pissing themselves laughing at our rants and idiotic conversations, and The Boy wanted a recording to prove to his friends just how daft we are.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">Now it should be said that we didn't actually know we were being funny, quite often we were serious indeed. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">So anyway, Almighty D looked at his camcorder, looked at me, then at the camcorder, back to me and said "Did you just fart?"</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">After a lengthy conversation about the intricacies of farting, we had an idea.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">We were going to do a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">vlog</span>/web series of our rants and debates. We'd invite a random person to each episode and provide a topic. Then we'd ignore the topic and talk bollocks for ten minutes or so. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">We'll probably start with a few stories of our past. Usually starting with "This one time Almighty D and I.." and ending with something on fire.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">So check back soon and we'll have a YouTube channel up and running as well as blog somewhere on the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">interwebs</span>.</span></div>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-49518157692702212642011-09-10T13:02:00.000-07:002011-09-10T13:26:18.982-07:00When gummy bears attack!<div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Now I'm sure most people have had the odd close call with death, I know i certainly have. Usually we pay no lasting attention to the bus that almost hit us, the fall from the tree that could have gone badly wrong but didn't. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">In my life I have fallen from trees, been attacked by birds and had to leap from the roof I happened to be standing on at the time. Almighty D has contrived to blow me up in several interesting ways with fireworks and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">American</span> muscle cars and many other near misses. Today, however, Death himself looked me square in the eyes and just took the piss. Most people, if given the choice, would opt for a heroic death. Hypothermia on top of Everest, fighting terrorists, pushing a child out of the way of a speeding car or ever saving kittens from a malicious ball of wool. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Being a bit of a romantic, I would happily settle for any of the above......but choking on a fucking gummy bear is just plain pathetic. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">It was my own fault really, it was Raspberry flavour and I know the evil ways of Raspberry. I should have rejected the temptations of it's sumptuous red colour. I should have remembered that it is the darkness to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Strawberry's</span> light. But no. Like all children everywhere and disgusting objects, I popped it in my mouth and hoped for the best. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Will I ever learn?</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Eventually I managed to cough up the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">confectionery</span> assassin and gasped the air like my life depended on it, which as it turns out it did. Finally able to breath again, I looked down at the half chewed gummy bastard. He looked up at me with his one remaining eye and a smirk on his gummy face which said "You're my bitch and you know it."</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Moral of the story: If something wants to kill you, don't put it in your mouth.</span></div>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-71890299971380355072011-08-10T19:51:00.000-07:002011-08-10T20:31:54.734-07:00Batshit crazyI think the headline says it all.
<br />Some poor kid gets in a bad situation and gets shot by the police, next thing chaos. The streets of London, Birmingham and Manchester are now on fire and looters are everywhere.
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<br />What I want to know is how does a call for justice turn into looting and riots? Do these people honestly think that acting like this helps? Or are they just scum looking for a fight regardless of the reason?
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<br />I strongly suspect it's the latter, especially considering the looting started before the rioting.
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<br />If this is the way the world is going, then injury <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">compensation</span> adverts are going to very different in the near future.
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<br />Had a trip or fall? Been in an accident that wasn't your fault? looking for compensation you rightly deserve? Then set your neighbours car on fire and go on a shoplifting spree.
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<br />Seriously, what the fuck? These people obviously can't be trusted in modern society. Are they such lemmings that one person happened to be stealing something at a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">stressful</span> time and they couldn't help but join in?
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<br />In my humble opinion, when all this lunacy calms down and most of them have been caught, they should be court ordered to wear adult nappies and a jacket which says "Fuck-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">tard</span>" on the back.
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<br />When you look at all the good in the world, you see how much life is worth living. Then you realize all the good is a grain of sand to the planet sized bad in the world and you start thinking "Roll on the Apocalypse".
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<br />While reading the news reports, and writing this, I had an interesting idea. We should take the worst criminals (rapists and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">murderers</span> etc) as well as continuous repeat offenders, and give them all <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">lobotomies</span>. Then make them clean streets or whatever. We're always hearing about prisoner rights, which I find a bit odd. I've always had, and always will have, the belief that if you choose to break the law then you're choosing to give up any and all rights. Make prison a punishment like it should be. Make them shit in a bucket, force them to work and force them to watch the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">tellitubbies</span> if that's what it takes.
<br />RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-68711612203279651352011-08-03T17:41:00.000-07:002011-08-03T18:17:49.337-07:00Show me the money<span style="color:#33cc00;">So lets sum up the state of the world finances at the moment. </span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">We're boned.</span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">Greece is as good as bankrupt, shortly followed by the Republic of Ireland. The UK's debt is so huge they're having to invent new words to describe it. The USA isn't doing so well either. Japan at least has a reason for being strapped for cash, earthquakes are expensive messes to clean up.</span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">Ireland owes billions to the UK. The UK owes billions to the USA and God only knows who they owe money to. Greece just owes money to everyone. So where exactly did all the worlds money go?</span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">I have a few theories.</span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">First is that several countries have been quietly printing extra bank notes to patch the financial hole. This of course would normally lead to the currency being slightly devalued, unless the government in question simply didn't tell anyone. Which is international monetary fraud.</span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">Secondly it's possible that certain third world countries, who have been begging for aid for the last 30 something years, have simply been stockpiling wealth. This theory would mean that the starving millions in Africa are faking it.</span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">Third on the list are celebrities. It's no secret that they are overpaid, but think about this. If Paul McCartney, Tom Cruise, Bill Gates etc gave up HALF their wealth then there would be no world debt. Paul McCartney would save the world and still be a billionaire.</span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">The fourth theory is simple. Aliens did it.</span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">Realistically speaking, the real reason is probably a combination of the first three, though never rule out aliens. EVER.</span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">As the saying goes "Money makes the world go round", so maybe global finance will completely collapse and the world will indeed end in 2012. Who-ever's to blame, rich people, poor people, stupid people or fucking bankers, we can at least laugh at them when their billions are only good for toilet paper.</span>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-47002857419391749862011-07-23T16:27:00.000-07:002011-07-23T17:01:34.257-07:00What to do?<div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;">Man I have a huge to-do list, and it gets bigger every day.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;">Now I have some fairly reasonable excuses for not doing a few of the listed chores, but my main problem is my own mind.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;">Of the many things I should be doing, the main one I really ought to be cracking on with is a one act play I'm supposed to be writing. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;">Well to be exact, I've already written it. In my head. The problem is my imagination. Every time I sit down to type, my imagination fucks off and does it's own thing. Which is a bit of a pain in the bum. So instead of typing out a play that I'm supposed to be working on, my imagination distracts me with a whole new idea. Not <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">helpful</span> at all. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;">You could say it's a disability. Hyper-active imagination syndrome. I strongly suspect many people, who struggle to finish things, also suffer from this disorder. It's not a lack of skill or motivation, our minds simply jump from one idea to another <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">until</span> we can't focus on the job at hand.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;">For example, right now I should be sleeping, but I started thinking about the play. Then out of no-where my imagination pops up and says</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;">"I've got a really cool idea for a one man show", which i have to admit was a really cool idea indeed. Then i couldn't concentrate on the play and got completely sidetracked by an unwelcome but really cool idea. Next I made a rookie mistake. I turned to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Internet</span> to do some light research for "project really cool idea". Giving it a name like that should have set of alarm bells and the safest thing to do would be switch off the computer and go to sleep, but <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">noooooo</span>. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;">Anyone who has ever used the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Internet</span> knows, that when you put in a word or phrase into a search engine, you get a whole bunch of results that have absolutely nothing to do with the original word or phrase. Somehow I was still surprised, and more than a little curious, when I typed in "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Graffiti</span> history" and came across a page containing a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">recipe</span> for french toast.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;">A normal, run of the mill, over-active imagination would have paused........said </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;">"Huh? <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Weird</span>." wondered what possible link <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">graffiti</span> and french toast had, and gone back to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">research</span>.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;">Hyper-active imaginations are like Duracell bunnies, they just keep going and going. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;">I spent the next 20 minutes constructing the perfect french toast sandwich in my mind and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">decided</span> I had to have one. After writing, what is probably, a really bad blog post about my evening. I now can't remember what I was going to write down for the play, Project really cool idea is now on my to-do list and I'm really quite hungry.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;">Moral of the story?</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#339999;">Everything can be solved with french toast.</span></div><br /><div align="center"></div>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-18126235150183235102011-07-16T23:52:00.000-07:002011-07-17T00:35:20.719-07:00Ying and Yang<div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">I had a thought yesterday.</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">According to Newton every action has an equal and opposite reaction. I wonder if this applies to more than physics. What I'm getting at is the idea of perfect <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">opposites</span>.</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">Yes is the perfect opposite of No.</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">Day is the perfect opposite of Night.</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">You get the idea. However when we come to more complex objects and ideas things get...well <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">complicated</span>. What's the perfect opposite of a hammer? The easy answer <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">would</span> be a nail, but it's not that easy. Both hammers and nails are used to make things, and so cannot be perfect opposites.</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">Then I thought about words. Words are simple. </span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">Yes/No</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">Right/Wrong</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">But what about a whole sentence, or an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Idiom</span>?</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">One <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">immediately</span> jumped into my mind.</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">The glass is half full/The glass is half empty</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">Simply by changing one word you get a change from optimist to pessimist. A perfect opposite. It didn't feel right though. Only one word was changed, and changed into it's own perfect opposite. It seemed like cheating.</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">OK so next step is to take a saying, make it's exact opposite and use a whole bunch of different words. To answer the unspoken question some of you may have swishing around in your head, yes I was bored.....very bored. Surprisingly though it was mildly entertaining and produced a few giggles. </span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">If you have nothing better to do, I highly <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">recommend</span> doing some yourself. Below are a few I came up with, just to give you an idea of how it works. Once you've got the hang of it, challenge a friend and see who comes up with the best one (bonus points for doing actions and making said friend snort while laughing)</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ffff00;">"Look before you leap."</span></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">has the perfect opposite of</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ffff00;">"Fuck it! <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Weeeeeeeeeeee</span>!"</span></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ffff00;">"The grass is always greener on the other side."</span></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">is the exact opposite of</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ffff00;">"The secret to a nice garden is to paint your lawn twice a week."</span></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ffff00;">"Aim for the moon, and even if you miss, you'll land <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">among</span> the stars."</span></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">is the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">flip side</span> of</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ffff00;">"Aim for the balls, you'll get whatever you want then."</span></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;">OK so that last one was stretching it a bit, but fuck it. My game my rules.</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-5291543675733393322011-05-11T17:33:00.000-07:002011-05-13T13:25:17.415-07:00<div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">I'm finding it hard to stay mildly enthusiastic about anything these days. I can't be arsed with social networking sites, games, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">TV</span>, movies or even breathing any more. I've talked about depression before, and I know that's all it is....but it feels different. I feel a level of apathy towards everything that feels sensible, logical even. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">The country is going down the pan, and we send billions out to other countries only for another disaster to happen. Hospitals can't afford staff or medication. Schools can't afford teachers, and I can't afford fuel to get anywhere to cheer myself up...including the doctors. So what's the fucking point?</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">I've been fighting an enormous urge to blow every penny I have and just fuck off into the sunset, never to be heard of again. We delude ourselves about life and freedom. How many of us can <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">truly</span> do what we want when we want? Ever missed a party because you had work the next morning? Can't sod off for the weekend because there's no-one to walk the dog? Sorry can't go to that festival, have to pay the mortgage?</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">In a way it makes sense that we romanticise cowboys, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Victorian</span> explorers, Alexander <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Supertramp</span> and Dr <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Geebers</span> (if you've never heard of the last two I strongly suggest looking them up). They had adventures and weren't tied down by <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ikea</span> and managers. They had the freedom that is yearned for in all our psyches. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">Maybe that's what's really wrong with me. I'm a caged animal. A dolphin in a fish tank. I need some space to run around and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">frolic</span> for a while, perhaps we all do. So I guess it comes down to blowing my brains out or breaking out of my rusty cage. I know what sounds more fun. Somewhere out there is a beach, and a sunrise, with my name on it. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">If only.</span></div>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-48403749697990817162011-05-07T17:19:00.000-07:002011-05-07T17:57:10.263-07:00Bang goes that theory<div align="center"><span style="color:#33ff33;">Well it's been a while, and for good reason. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33ff33;">Firstly Almighty D and Mrs D renewed their vows in spectacular fashion. Medieval theme and shit loads of snow. Half the guests couldn't make it, and those that did had trouble thawing out our huskies for the trip home. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33ff33;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33ff33;">Then the old git kicked the bucket. It was hard to be suitable <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">mournful</span> and interested at the funeral, which was also held during the blizzards. I had expected to feel something, not loss or sadness of course, but something. Nada. I must say he led one hell of a life, one which ordinarily would inspire admiration if it hadn't involved him. Since the snow my Gran has been alive for the first time in my eyes. I had <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">glimpse</span> her true self once before, drunk and dancing on the table to South African songs....on a school night! I've never seen her happier, which is sad really in a way.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33ff33;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33ff33;">Shit comes and shit goes, another year passes and another birthday is morned. I've <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">definitely</span> had good birthdays before, I remember them. In general though the whole <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">January</span>/February period is one of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">melancholy</span> and depression. Helped along by bad health, I pulled back under my blanket and pretended the world didn't exist. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Unfortunately</span> this gets on certain peoples nerves, and rightly so. It's selfish and self <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">indulgent</span> crap. My friends, or should I say those that know me the best, accept this as a personality quirk. They know I'll be back. They shouldn't have to wait, and wonder, but the odd <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">absence</span> has got to be better than just blowing my brains out.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33ff33;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33ff33;">Finally some good news turns up. The Boy moves North to live with Almighty D (his Dad) for a while. The story there is long, complicated and none of your fucking business anyway. Lets just say it's a good thing. The Boy turns out to be a really cool guy to hang around with and all are happy, as they should be. Except Almighty D who now lives in paranoid fear that The Boy doesn't like him. I think I'm going to start carrying around a large damp trout to slap people with when they're being daft. Almighty D will be smelling of trout 24/7.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33ff33;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33ff33;">All in all, I thought 2011 was going to be a good year. Now I know we're not even half way through yet, and some good stuff has happened, but it ain't looking good on the whole. My recovering finances took a kick in the crotch when my car and laptop broke at the same time, health is as shitty as ever and future prospects of every kind are quickly disappearing. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33ff33;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33ff33;">Sometimes life just sucks, but that's <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">OK</span> because sometimes it doesn't. You just have to wait for it to stop sucking.</span></div>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-40152598473244618172010-12-15T16:11:00.000-08:002010-12-15T16:23:43.980-08:00Random Guy #3<span style="color:#ffffff;">Do you ever get the feeling your life is a movie?</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">Not a huge blockbuster. Not even a feel good <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">rom</span>-com, or big thrills action.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">Nope, your movie is the dodgy one that no-one really gets. Crappy depressing story with disappointingly shitty end. You know the one, lots of hype but no-one buys the DVD.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">There would only be one thing more depressing than having that film for a life, and that would be playing an extra in your own movie. All these dynamic scenes and plot twists, even though it's really hard to tell there's a plot at all, and you're at the back of the shot. No lines, just set dressing. You don't even get a name in the credits, just Random Guy #3. No past, no future, your present only serves as filler for other people's story.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">It's a shitty job but someone has to do it</span>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-37471323166339050492010-12-06T22:55:00.000-08:002010-12-06T23:25:48.620-08:00Huh?<span style="color:#ff6666;">I was called a whore today. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">Still not entirely sure how I feel about that. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">In my eyes a whore is someone who sleeps around a lot, different girl every <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">weekend</span> kind of thing. Well that's <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">definitely</span> not me. I know I have a filthy perverted mind, all the best minds are, but I wouldn't have thought my actions were whore worthy.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">I've only slept with people I've been in a serious relationship with, the shortest one being 3 or 4 months. I regularly <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">spend</span> a year or more between relationships sleeping with no-one but my monkey. Even then I have been in relationships with no sex at all. As odd as that may sound to some people, it was nice just being with some, sharing your lives and experiences. Affectionate companions more than girlfriends. Sometimes a cuddle in bed as you fall asleep is better than a shag.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">I guess it's all relative though, some <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">believe</span> in no sex before marriage, and some (I could easily name certain friends) will bonk anything that moves. I think a whore cares about sex, while I have genuinely cared for and loved all those who have been in my life. I have been hurt by most, and unfortunately done some hurting to others, such is the way of break ups. I still care about all of them, and am <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">truly</span> happy for those who have moved on and found love elsewhere. Even the ones who hurt me the most, but especially the few I hurt. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">So no I don't think I am a whore. I might have had a fuller sex life than some, but I don't want sex. I want love. I want to wake up next to someone who makes me smile for no reason, someone who makes life just that little bit wonderful. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">My search for love continues, but I sincerely hope yours doesn't last as long. We all deserve that deep love that makes life living, don't you think?</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;"></span>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-24275486016755525362010-11-19T00:22:00.000-08:002010-11-19T00:47:02.734-08:00<span style="color:#ffff00;">I've had a thought....no wait come back, you might get a giggle out of this.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;">Why does Christmas last so long?</span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;">You see everyone else, except the Queen, only gets one day. Yet Christmas just goes on and on and on. I think it has to do with the length of labour. For most of us, from water breaking to baby popping, labour t<span style="color:#ffff00;">akes</span> less than 24 hours. Longer labours are quite common, especially <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">amongst</span> first time mothers. Bingo. Mary was a first time mom, and a virgin at that. </span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;">But how long did it take her to squeeze out little <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">JC</span>? I think a major clue comes from a popular Christmas song. The twelve days of Christmas. 12 days! With a labour like that we should be celebrating the mother and not the sprog.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;">Why exactly did it take so long though? Well lets think about this for a second. Firstly <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">JC</span> is the son of God, and God is everywhere and knows everything. Which means He's huge with a ginormous head. Imagine trying to squeeze the offspring of that out of you! secondly <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">JC</span>, being the son of God, was pretty advanced compared to mere mortals. Also if you remember, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">JC</span> was a bit of an entertainer, turning water into wine and walking on water etc. </span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;">So imagine if you will, Marys' water has just broken. Joseph takes a peak and sees a tiny hand, which promptly disappears. It pops back out and starts waving at him. Slightly startled, Joe leans in closer and hears baby mumblings. Which reveal both why Christmas lasts so long, and who is to blame for one of the most annoying songs ever.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;">Little <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">JC</span> "You put you left <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">armie</span> out, you pull you left <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">armie</span> in. In, out, in, out, you shake it all about....you put your right footie out..." </span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;">12 days of this! And people wonder why God sent his only son to Earth, it was for some hokey <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">cokey</span> peace!</span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;"></span>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-17725496843183901022010-11-18T20:18:00.000-08:002010-11-18T20:18:47.197-08:00Tree Frog<a href="http://abowman.com/google-modules/tree-frog/?sms_ss=blogger&at_xt=4ce5fa94aff29dc0,0">Tree Frog</a>: "Add this tree frog to your page to see how he inquisitively follows your mouse or eats the flies you give it"RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-66940727346394608742010-11-18T19:31:00.000-08:002010-11-18T19:56:19.854-08:00What the fudge??<span style="color:#cc66cc;">I was talking to this sweet young lady the other day, and she had a bit of a problem. You see she plays the cornet and sax, but can't practice at home much because it upsets the neighbours. Now I'm sure this has nothing to do with the quality of her skills, but rather the constant <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">repetition</span> of scales and such. Me being me, I offered up a few solutions. Apparently deliberately popping their eardrums isn't sensible, and drugging them every day can be expensive. I did hit on one idea though which was sheer genius, if I do say so myself. I'm not going to share that idea just yet because I have yet to find a working version anywhere and it could make me rich, or kill me, either way it could be an interesting project.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">So I start looking into getting a cheap trumpet, the base frame of my idea. Holy <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">bat shit</span> they're expensive! Even buggered ones that don't work can go for £100 or more. If modern technology and cheap labour can produce brand new guitars for £40-£60 then surely someone can pump out cheap trumpets. I can go out tomorrow and buy a car, one with all it's wheels and everything, for less than a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">frigging</span> trumpet. What the hell is the deal with that?</span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">It does make me wonder though, just how messed up is the world? </span>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-82704384489449669472010-11-11T21:07:00.000-08:002010-11-11T22:00:31.256-08:00Price of admission<span style="color:#cc66cc;">I've had a few revelations recently, and been forced to admit to a few things. Which is a good thing really. You can only ignore things for so long before they bite you on the arse...hard. There's always that fear though. What will other people think? If I admit to that I'm admitting that I'm weak etc etc. For me this has been quite difficult and somewhat hipocrytical. Firstly I don't care what people think. Never have and never will. Secondly, I know I'm weak. We all are in different ways, just like we are all strong in certain aspects. So what the hell was I afraid of?</span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">I think my biggest problem is honesty. I'm not a liar as such, but I have a really bad habit of misleading people. I act friendly to people I can't stand, I say I'm fine when I'm far from it and I act like a descent social chap. I'm really not. As I've mentioned before, I really don't like myself, and I suppose it's time to get into all that bollocks. Those closest to me will know that I suffered from anger issues, and that I sorted myself out and don't lose my temper anymore. I got my head to a place where I'm not even sure I can lose it, but I'm angry. Deep inside I'm always angry. It's actually a rather odd feeling, everyone and everything starts to become a mild annoyance. Yet I can calmly look in at the anger, and then just get on with things.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Next on the list is depression, and sundries. I personally would class my depression as perfectly normal, and understandable, for someone who's gone through the shit I have and leads the life I do. There are a few other things mixed in that scare the shit out of me though. I have suicidal thoughts almost constantly. From my early teens, every day and in most of my dreams. Don't send for the Samaritans just yet, letr me explain. The suicidal thoughts don't feel like they come from a depressed place. Even at my happiest they are still there. They are just there, not a way of escaping anything. I see a high bridge and I idly wonder what it'd feel like to jump off. Waiting at pedestrian crossings, I randomly get urges to step in from of cars. Let me make it clear at this point. I DO NOT WANT TO DIE. There is way too many fun and interesting things in the world to miss out on. I saw a documentary on Tourettes a few years ago, and apparently there is a type 2 Tourettes which is distinguished by random and unemotional urges of suicide. This fit the bill so much it scared the crap out of me, so much so that I've never had the guts to see a Doc about it.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">My latest self discovery is something you've probably never heard of. Trichotillomania is an obsessive compulsion to pull out your own hair. For quite a number of years I've had a nervous habit, when I'm stressed or bored mainly, of plucking hair. During bad spells I grow my beard and concentrate on my chin so I don't end up bald. I've made excuses over the years, from singing my eyebrows during one of my misadventures, to not being able to shave due to sensitive skin. Well truth time, I grow my beard on purpose so I can pull out the hair. I have Trichotillomania, I am a Trichster. I joined a fantastic support group this week, and have been finding out some rather interesting things. The one that really caught my eye was the link between Trich, ADD, OCD and Tourettes. You see I've always been a touch hyper, Boredom kills me. When I'm online I'm also playing games on Facebook and have a game going on the xbox. Add to that the Tourettes link. If I do indeed have type 2 like I suspect, then it all makes sense.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">All in all it has been a bit of a scarey week for me, thinking about all my serious defects. It's amazing the releif I felt when I joined the Trich support group, and not only did they understand about the hair pulling but many of the others share my other quirks. Seems that maybe I'm really not the complete dick I thought I was, the other Trichsters are the same as me and they are all loverly. </span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">The first step to recovery is admitting to yourself that you have a problem, that has never been an issue. The second step is admitting those problems to the people you care about. That has kind of been what this whole post is about. Certain important people have access to this blog, and can read it anytime. Whether or not I have the guts to discuss my issues with them face to face is another story. One step at a time. I do feel like I've made progress though, but I'm still a dick.</span>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-13385129443741434862010-09-29T22:51:00.000-07:002010-09-29T23:56:37.386-07:00Always read the label<span style="color:#00cccc;">You know, when you buy food, everything you need to know is on the label. Wouldn't life be so much easier if people had the same? Now I know what you're going to say. "finding out is half the fun" but I'm not saying put everything in print, just the important things. </span><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">So what would I put on these people labels? </span><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">Well for starters single status. Think how better it would be if we had a clue from the get go. Ladies, for one you wouldn't be hit on all the time when your partner is elsewhere. As much of a confidence booster as it is, I'm told it is annoying. Then we come to dating, how much easier would it be if we knew who was available right from the start?</span><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">Sexuality. Yep I said sexuality. In this modern society we have all sorts to contend with, and quite frankly it makes things messy. This is something that is recently giving me trouble. I met someone cute, I really start to like them but oh dear, I don't have enough ovaries for their taste. Come on people, let the rest of us know which way you swing!</span><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">Religious conviction. Now I don't care which God you <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">believe</span> in or what church you go to, but all I'll say is that someone who goes to church more than twice a week and someone who <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">intensely</span> dislikes the whole setup, should never meet.</span><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">The next one is a bit tricky. You see most of us are completely oblivious to the signs that someone likes us. A l<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">ittle</span></span> hint on the people label might be a good idea, something along the lines of "you stand a chance so don't blow it" would be good.</span><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">If you don't want to walk around with a tag glued to your face, then I guess the next best thing is to just say what you think. If you like someone, say so. Talk about your <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">beliefs</span> and ideals. Be open with your sexuality, don't ever be ashamed. No-one actually cares that much these days. </span><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">The only thing keeping us back is fear. Fear of rejection, but what if we're accepted? It's a risk worth taking.</span>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-16201746658641105142010-09-21T16:52:00.000-07:002010-09-29T23:56:08.510-07:00Can I get off now please?<span style="color:#33ff33;">I have periods of crippling depression, mostly for good reasons. The problem is that I'm pretty good at hiding it. So I fester in my own little dark world while others think it's business as usual. Of course if some <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">dipshit</span> shrink was to analyze me they would come up with all sorts of crap that doesn't actually help, but at the end of the day I've just got to hang on tight and ride it out. </span><br /><span style="color:#33ff33;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ff33;">It's hard to describe what these funks are like, and harder still to imagine that anyone else could understand. Perhaps putting these thoughts and feelings into words helps....then again who gives a shit? </span><br /><span style="color:#33ff33;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ff33;">What is more interesting is the random crap my brain comes up with when the rest of me doesn't want to keep going. For example, just today most of my being was screaming to go and do something silly when a naughty little thought popped up. Is it possible to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">de</span>-evolve? </span><br /><span style="color:#33ff33;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ff33;">Take a look at humans and chimps. Yes humans are more intelligent, and we have the whole <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">opposable</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">thumbs</span> thing going....but in every other respect, we are <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">inferior</span> to chimps. Our ape cousins have fewer diseases, fewer genetic defects, almost no allergies, they are physically stronger and can withstand greater environmental extremes than we can. So who is the more advanced creature?</span><br /><span style="color:#33ff33;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ff33;">I say the human race would be better off if we buggered off back into the trees, used our feet as hands and occasionally threw our shit at each other...<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">OK</span> we kind of do that last one already, but I hope you get my point. The more "advanced" we get, the more fragile we become. Is it coincidence that as <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">hygiene</span> and anti-bacterial soaps become more and more fashionable, asthma also increases? </span><br /><span style="color:#33ff33;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ff33;">I say let kids play in the mud. Make them lick their chickenpox addled friends. Climb trees and enjoy life, don't fear it.</span>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-34301765290077485722010-09-08T19:27:00.000-07:002010-09-29T23:55:18.221-07:00Dipshit say what now?<span style="color:#ff6600;">It has been brought to my attention that maybe I'm not such a bad guy after all. Mainly because a certain female friend insists I'm nice, and she isn't all that happy with me right now, but also because Almighty D randomly gave me a pressie. To say those that know me know me all too well is a slight understatement. I'm not sure if I've mentioned this here, and I really can't be arsed checking, but I do have a slight obsession with fairies. So when Almighty D hands me a fairy figurine for being a good mate, and I quote "I saw it and just had to get it for you.", I do kinda have to rethink a few things.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Firstly I think I should downplay the whole fairy thing, people might get the wrong idea, or worse, the right idea. Secondly I can't be all that bad. It really means <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">a lot</span> when someone like Almighty D shows that kind of affection towards you. It was a small gesture really, one that many of us make without thinking, but really it says <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">a lot</span>. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">So of course I get to thinking. We all make these gestures that say so much, and yet none of us really pay much attention. Now I've had an idea, a challenge really. why don't you pay attention for a week and see who really cares about you. Who loves you enough to drop everything when you have a bad day? Who remembers how you have your tea without asking? Who cares enough about you to think of you when you're not around?</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Try it for a week, pay attention to all the little things. You might be surprised at how many people care about you, or maybe someone thinks of you more than you realise.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-27272445689396035982010-09-04T15:13:00.000-07:002010-09-04T15:54:05.959-07:00Ode to self<span style="color:#33cc00;">There have been times in my life when I really don't understand what the point is. You see I know I'm an arsehole, if I was someone else I wouldn't be friends with me. There are many things I enjoy doing, but I can no longer do them. I suffer from almost crippling loneliness, yet I don't particularly like other people. People annoy me, especially people I actually like. So to save the friendship, I disappear for a while. I ration out my time with those I want in my life. But I get comfortable being alone. I enjoy the solitude, the raging silence in my head. </span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">What is it that makes us need company? Why are we so dependant on social contact?</span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">I have a theory, so brace yourselves.</span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">Whatever we think of ourselves is almost always wrong. Think you're fat? probably wrong. Think you're intelligent? Almost certainly wrong. So we need other people's opinions to tell us who and what we are. Sure there are going to be times when they bend the truth to save our feelings "no of course you don't look fat in that dress honey!" is a classic, but if enough people are telling you the same thing...well it's probably true, no matter what you think.</span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">Which brings up a rather interesting question. Why can we be more honest about other people than we can about ourselves? <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">OK</span>, so no-one wants to think of themselves as a fat arsehole with a tiny I.Q. but surely <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">acknowledging</span> your faults is the first step to fixing them? </span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">What do you do when you can't fix the faults? When you like them, when you like being an arsehole? What do you do when people keep wanting to be your friend, or worse, and all you want to do is tell them to fuck off? Answers on a postcard.</span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">I suppose this rant was started by someone trying to be nice and said I'd make a good husband for someone one day. No, no I won't. I don't even make a good human being at times. I'm an arsehole, I'm <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">broken</span>, but I like it that way. It's far more interesting. </span>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-57007664332693952052010-08-31T14:30:00.000-07:002010-09-29T23:54:20.085-07:00What is love? other than the crap song from the early 90's<span style="color:#cc33cc;">Love is a strange and downright vindictive bastard. You see you catch the love, then you get screwed. There are many forms to this twist of the knife, all as perverse as the next.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">First we have the hidden <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">nutjob</span>. For some reason this keeps happening to me. You meet a wonderful person, and they like you back. You spend time getting to know them and you catch the love. then <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">bam</span>! they turn into psycho bunny boilers. it's best to head for the hills and change your name in this case.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Secondly there is the "oh <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">I've</span> changed my mind, i actually love someone else". This has only happened to me twice, and it comes with the mother of all <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">mindfucks</span>. you see you can't forget them, ever. they stay in your heart, and as much as they hurt you, you still love them and always will. the bitches.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Next of course are the ones you come to realise you love as a friend and nothing more. this comes with unique difficulties. You care about this person, they have become your best friend...you just don't want to be their boyfriend. how can you break your best friends' heart? if you're lucky, and i mean really fucking lucky, then you can let them down gently. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">I'm</span> not lucky, i have the unfortunate rep of being a twat. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">I'd</span> like to think <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">I'm</span> not, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">I'm</span> just crap at doing things the right way.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">The last type, is a killer. one i know all too well. unrequited love. you meet someone, someone who dazzles you. just knowing they exist makes your life better. you get lost in their eyes, their smile is all you need to survive. everything about them, mind body and soul, calls out to you. pulls you in. traps you. </span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">the bitch of the situation is that the object of your love barely <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">sees</span> you as a man. you're a vague <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">acquaintance</span>, a friend or worse. and yet you know what you should do. you should take them in your arms, make their dreams come true. show them just how special they are, and with every part of your being you want to make them happy. make them smile, rock their world like they rocked yours. </span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">you have 2 choices here, make a move or say nothing. now i firmly <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">believe</span> that nothing ventured is nothing gained, but i also know myself. so i choose to do nothing. i know in my heart that they wouldn't be happy with me, and their happiness is my only purpose in life. so i step back, do nothing. i be their friend, support them and try to bring happiness to their life.....just to watch them......just to watch her look for love elsewhere. you sacrifice it all for them. your own happiness, your own soul, and even though you start dying inside you smile. you know she is worth it, you can rest in peace seeing her happy.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">i have had the pleasure and misfortune to experience all forms of love except the one we are all looking for. pure, all consuming true love. maybe <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">I'll</span> never find it, maybe i had it and fucked it up. maybe the all consuming love from afar is as close as <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">I'll</span> get. so she never knows that she owns me, so what? that's not the point of love. the point of love is to feel it, to give all you love selflessly. </span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">then again there's a lot to be said about a long slow snog and a cuddle ;)</span>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-80999045741143038572010-08-30T21:42:00.000-07:002010-09-29T23:52:41.205-07:00Not the DadaA few years ago I had a rater <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">lovely</span>, and naughty, weekend with a rather <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">lovely</span> lady friend. For various reasons, some beyond my control and some just plainly my own fault, we parted ways for 3 years.<br />I was pleasantly surprised to get back in contact with her. Her life is going well, 2 kids and back on track with her hubby. Her kids are gorgeous and she has big plans for her future, so naturally i was well chuffed for her....then my brain had a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">spaz</span></span> attack.<br />You see it was a touch over3 years ago when i had the pleasure of her affections, and her eldest is nearly 3.....now my maths isn't great and i can be pretty slow at times, but that sounds like a gap resembling pregnancy.<br /><br />probably now is a good time to say i love kids, my life simply will never be complete till <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">I'm</span> a dad. so naturally it was mental meltdown time. one the one hand, my dreams could have come true. on the other yet another person gets the pleasure while i sit and watch on the sidelines. Now me being me, i start to convince myself that i must be the daddy. i got myself quite upset that she hadn't told me, that i may have missed out on nearly 3 years. i built up the courage and asked.<br /><br />when i received the answer i wasn't ready for my reaction. i was off the hook, yet i felt like someone had punched a hole in my chest and ripped out my heart. someone had stolen a daughter from me. how does anyone come back from that?<br /><br />it took me a few hours before the perverted part of my brain got back from it's weekend away. you see the lady in question was on a trial <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">separation</span> from her hubby, and had been for over a month when we <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">nekkid</span></span> together. as it turns out she was just about 6 or 7 weeks pregnant at the time. my pervert brain put 2 and 2 together and came up with sex. "hang on, we did a pregnant chick? <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">coooooool</span></span>"<br />now that's not a thought <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">I'm</span> proud of, but fuck it, it's something to tick off on the list. then pervert brain had another thought "we still get to knock someone up". this thought, as crass as it was delivered, was a much nicer one. i get to fall in love, create a life, and not screw it up.....er well try not to anyway.<br /><br />i realise now that i still have that dream, that goal, to look forward to. and if <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">I'm</span> really lucky, i might even get paid to eat chocolate one day.RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2299811532121939599.post-67240250768231209982009-12-30T21:31:00.000-08:002010-09-29T23:52:20.912-07:00The big Wait<span style="color:#339999;">So another year down, and boy has stuff been happening. I find myself at Almighty D's place yet again. Which is cool. I find myself looking back and wondering what the hell happened in 2009.</span><br /><span style="color:#339999;"></span><br /><span style="color:#339999;">Well for one I have been writing a screenplay with Mom. It's been.....interesting. The story is great, or at least I think so, but what has been particularly interesting is our different working methods. Lets just say we clash, badly, but somehow what comes out of the mess still makes me laugh. So hopefully other people will like it as much as I do and make it for TV.</span><br /><span style="color:#339999;"></span><br /><span style="color:#339999;">And then in summer I started painting, well <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">spraypainting</span>. And people keep asking me to paint pictures for them so they must like my work. All I know is I like doing it. I even had interest from a small art gallery....fuck me sideways with a platypus <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">lol</span></span><br /><span style="color:#339999;"></span><br /><span style="color:#339999;">Then I go and meet an American online, a female American. A gorgeous, funny and intelligent female American. I was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">DJ'ing</span> for a web radio station and she fell for my voice, and no it had nothing to do with bad breath. My name is <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Midnite</span> and I'm addicted to mints. Anyway after my uncontrollable flirting kicked in, it turns out she likes more than my voice. RESULT!</span><br /><span style="color:#339999;"></span><br /><span style="color:#339999;">Almighty D woke me up ridiculously early one morning, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">mamma</span> D had passed away after a long illness. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Mamma</span> D was an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">incredible</span> woman. She was a good friend to me, an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">unbelievably</span> generous soul and she scared the shit out of me. A hard time was had by all, and pulled us all closer together, which I like to think is what she would have wanted. There is a group of us fellas (Almighty D, myself, Big M, Mick the sailor man and comrade Mike)and we were her boys. Brothers by bond, not blood. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Mamma</span> D did that, forged life-long bonds between people. She will be missed.</span><br /><span style="color:#339999;"></span><br /><span style="color:#339999;">Christmas passed with little even....other than a dawn assault by the fluffy rain paratroopers. Managed to get out of the obligatory visit to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">olds</span> thanks to flu contracted at Almighty D's household. That guy always gives the best presents. </span><br /><span style="color:#339999;"></span><br /><span style="color:#339999;">So now I am here again, in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">internetland</span>, a year on. Less than 36 hours till a gorgeous female American arrives, and I'm getting <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">fookin</span> nervous. I usually do the first time I'm with someone, but usually only when it comes to the peeling off of clothes. This time is different. This is major. </span><br /><span style="color:#339999;"></span><br /><span style="color:#339999;">I love her, I love my renewed interest in art, I love creating and I love what the future might hold. Now I know that she is going to read this, she asked me for the linkage as I'm typing. What can I say to her on my ramble spot from my darkest recesses? I love you, Almighty D wants your candy and my foot has gone to sleep.</span><br /><span style="color:#339999;"></span><br /><span style="color:#339999;">2010 is looking bloody good</span>RidgeBackRoguehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07691377263771876536noreply@blogger.com0