Okay, let’s break this down a little. It’s mostly a blur of endlessly discussing which body of water, be it pool, beach, other pool, or other beach, to lie beside; but I shall try to jot down a loose itinerary of my two weeks in St Lucia. One thing that you can take as a given on each and every day is that several Rastafarians would demand that we fist bump them (and then offer us drugs), and several over-enthusiastic bartenders would satiate us with an inexhaustible supply of rum punches that were slightly stronger than pure gasoline. The endless photos will be around soon (mostly of topless people who probably shouldn’t be topless), but until then, here’s the gist of what we got up to.
Tag Archives: Blog
I’m tempted to get a dog just so that I can tell strangers in the street not to fucking pet it.
Pay my brother to kill himself! FOR CHARITY!
Hey, friends! One of my older brothers is taking part in a gruelling, 12 mile obstacle course for an RAF charity in a few months, and he’s literally going to die (ironically ahead of his deployment in Afghanistan later this year), so I’m sure it’d mean a lot to him if some of you guys could, at least repost this, or at most make a teeny tiny donation to throw upon his weary, lifeless corpse. The charity is to care for the loved ones of, and invalided members of, the Royal Air Force. I know most of my followers are American and Canadian, but an injured soldier is still an injured soldier, and a grieving widow is still a grieving widow. It’d be amazing to help Dan raise some money, so please repost this, and give a click to the link below.
He lit up a cigarette and nodded his head towards one of the fairground games. ‘Hey, you see that whack-a-mole?’ he sneered at no one in particular, exhaling a cloud of thick smoke; ‘I hit that.’
Am I whoring myself out for attention?
Not at all!
But while we’re on the subject, here’s a link to my Facebook page, that I want some of you to ‘like’. Pretend something good will happen to you if you do… which I guess it will, because you get to read my funny (terrible) jokes, and see the links to my hilarious (awful) posts.
Seriously though, it’d be awesome… and then we can all be friends on Facebook too, and slowly try to destroy it from the inside, because it’s awful.
The Unheard Cries of A Misplaced Apostrophe
Poor little apostrophe. He knows his place, and more importantly, he knows when he’s not in it. Some, or all, will say that it isn’t really too important, and that as long as you get the gist of what is meant, then the grammatical semantics of the written word can probably fall by the wayside. However, if the boat of proper grammar truly is sinking, then I would rather let the weight of a million neglected semi-colons and brackets pull me down to the dreary depths of the abyss, than abandon ship and take refuge upon the misplaced and miserable apostrophe that hangs lifeless between the O and the S in the word: photo’s, or cling to safety upon the second f in the word of.
Felix’s Festive Escapades
Who wants to see Felix’s funderful photos?
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Felix’s Productive Day
What I should do:
1. Organise my clothes.
2. Work on the book.
3. Tidy the flat.
4. Write up my next Impersonals article.
5. Do the washing up.
6. Look for a place to live back home.
7. Take the bins out.
8. Throw away the Christmas tree.
9. Post a late Christmas present to my brother.
10. Shower.
What I have done:
1. Eat an entire bag of cheese Doritos with an entire jar of salsa dip.
Sex: A Force for Evil?
Sex, like money, colours your pursuit of happiness from the moment it enters your life. You can alway have more money for better possessions, and you can always have more sex with ‘better‘ partners. It leaves us incapable of true fulfilment, a never ending cycle of the greener grass mentality. It becomes how we define ourselves; all that we do being to impress, and better ourselves in the eyes of others.
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‘I don’t just take cocaine, doctor. I am cocaine.’
- Nicolas Cage, probably.
