Boing Boing: Free to caring home: Flying Spaghetti Monsterotica costume
More goodness. For fZe and Miggs.
[posted with ecto]
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More goodness. For fZe and Miggs.
[posted with ecto]
-----Original Message-----
From: Sharon McNeillis
Sent: 28 September 2005 11:40
To: Gemma Cawley; Kristian Peacocke
Subject: RE: its not..
they didn't do that on An Audience with the Pope...shame...
-----Original Message-----
From: Gemma Cawley
Sent: 28 September 2005 11:37
To: Kristian Peacocke; Sharon McNeillis
Subject: RE: its not..
Aww. That was when they sang Especially For You on An Audience With Kylie Minogue...
I have to admit, that's the best call by Sharon, ever.
Well... I found it funny, perhaps you had to be there.
I'll fix it tomorrow, because tonight is Ben Lee.
When Gods meet. I liked this, but I love everything both these men do.
Please put your NAME to what you say. Otherwise it's all a bit piss-weak.
There's some beautify poetry in the above. Especially the toxic dart guns
(note: Christmas is near. I want one)
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They WORK!
We are going to cause so much trouble with these...
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England, gotta love it. Big shout out to the Raynes Park massive, who can totally take down a bus shelter.
Wankers.
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I want to build one. NOW.
My buddy Mike wrote this. It's good, and it saved me from having to post anything about the fact Judge Dredd was on the cover of the metro today.
I want one of those awesome lawcycle things.
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I knew you'd understand.
I've been saying this for years.
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Only, maybe not. The way Christopher feels all the time, the confusion, the fear, the isolation and frustration at fucking idiots... that's how I feel in London. In fact I finished it just now on the train home, and when I realized that, it made me cry a little. I am a modern man, you see...
The way he feels when the book ends and there was order in his world, and everything was good. That's how I felt when I was at home.
Only with less, you know, autism.
I loved that book.
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Kristian Peacocke
I really just wanted to send you a message, BUT I don't want to be like all freaking you out with over contact, given the situation. So I sent a group message, because yeah... that doesn't mean I;m picking on you. I am the GENIUS as well as the AWESOME.
05:41
Emily Cappas
I'd be careful, pr there'll be a clashing of egos
05:44
Kristian Peacocke
Oh god. Just in case this ever happened, we have to stop any thoughts of being together now. Imagine the mighty ego of the offspring. It might take on human form and conquer the WORLD! WE'D BE TO BLAME!
05:45
Emily Cappas
spawn of ego. the superego (also freudian fyi)
05:45
Kristian Peacocke
result. Makes us look even cleverer to have that in our conversation. Can I copy that into my blog. It's GENIUS
05:45
Emily Cappas
go for it
05:46
Kristian Peacocke
Done. Will go live later, and let cats out of bags.
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So I touch down in the UK. Get a train (the Heathrow express. It's actually quite nice) into London, and wonder down to the tube with my luggage. It's very early, not that many people. A train rumbles into the station. I wearily stumble onto it, and, well.... sit down.
There I am, sat on the tube. Going from Paddington to Aldgate (the wonders of the Circle line!). I'm very comfortable here. The feel and sound of the London Underground are all wonderfully familiar. A strange part of me feels at home. I'm reading a book, which is one of my favorite things to do when I'm alone, and reclining in my seat. I shall be at work soon, and I shall see my friends and be merry and oh what larks I will have.
I turn the page.
The train stops in a tunnel.
I turn a page.
I turn a page.
I turn a page.
The little part of me that felt like it was at home gasps.
Suddenly the walls begin to close in. I swear I can smell the evil sickly smell of sulphur in the air.
The nice looking girl on the seat in front of me me speaks:
"I want to eat your soul"
Rather bloody inconvenient. She smiles at me, all pointy, needly teeth. I... hit her. Hit her with the hefty book I was reading, showing a darn sight more disrespect to the publication that I would like, but needs must. Her head lolls back, bloody spraying the window behind her, bubbling on the glass. The other passengers are looking at us. They all have long nails, pointy teeth; the daemonic horde surges towards me. I really hope the book doesn't get too battered, because it really is rather good.
The lights flicker.
The girl opposite me is, of course, normal and unbeaten... but you knew that. The book is undamaged in my hand. I am tired; however I know this... London wants to kill me.
We are still in the tunnel.
The PA coughs to life. As always you can't actually hear what the driver says, but you can get an impression of what the archaic technology is trying to convey.
There is a signal failure, we'll be terminating at the next stop. Terminated. Is this a warning?
The girl in front smiles at me, and points to my luggage.
"Just got into London?"
"Just got back, yeah."
"Ha. Welcome home."
The train deposits us, moves on. She gets off in front of me. I fancy I can see a little daemonic tail, but you can never be too sure.
Interestingly enough the station we are at is Edgware Road. One of the places that was bombed back in July. I'm on my way to Aldgate, another bomb site...
This place wants me dead. Welcome back Kris. Someone save me soon, for I hate it here, and I think here knows it, and really, really isn't happy about it.
So go back and trawl. Please leave comments, or I don't know how the writing is going, and I like to know how the writing is going. Well, I always know how the writing is going: it goes well. I am the awesome, so the writing is as well. Only with your comments I have something to poke fun at without having to leave my bed.
For the record, I'm still on a plane flying to London. All the uploading and cleaning up will take place when I get home, which is Monday night. Of course no one will know this until AFTER it's been Monday night, but my care factor is critically low, so I'm writing it anyway.
Blah, blah, blah, more wine.
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Only it's going the wrong way.
I miss home already. And I miss people. It's amazing how attached to people you can get, and I'm not nessicarily talking about the sort of attachment that normally gets discussed in the pub on a friday night, I'm talking aboutt
Kristian dies of shock. World sighs, goes and eats muffins.
She eats a lot. Everyone does whatever she wants. She looks cool.
Quality attack cat.
She loves the duct heating, and hey.... so do I. I think she might be a corporal aspect of my personality. Not sure yet.
<"http://www.slightlydisgruntled.co.uk/images/blog/DSC00552thumb.jpg">
Fuck. I must have been drunk or something, because that is bloody awful. Please accept my apologies and move on.
We went out and had fun. My brother is a funny guy: Click here and you can see some of it.
And as everyone predicted, yes I got one. And it's fucking awesome. Consider this my official review 10/10 for amazing sexiness and thinness. It's got the pretty colour screen going and EVERYTHING.
Go. Buy.
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Walking through my city of Sydney, you see some wonderful sites. The most curious and, um, stand-off-ish(?) of which I have always felt is the crap that is painted on the boards by the church next to the town hall. I'd rather see the (rather fine) building/construction site than have to stare at this stuff.
Although in difference to my religious friends, I'll let you make your own mind up. Suckers.
Shit. I share my last name with a total twat:
Say it 'aint so. Please. Please. Please. I will never google my last name ever again.
Now I'm going to have to write a bestselling book so that everyone knows that glorious Peococke name is more than... retarded.
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So I'm fucking you all by following suit and putting word verification in. HA! And because I fucking hate people that post anon, you have to log in now as well. I don't care if you are too lazy. It's cowardly not to put your name to things. So yes. Get to it, or something.
Posted with the assistance of DRINK!
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I took this today at some mall in Chatswood. Christmas has started already at the shops.
Fuck fuck fuck.
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... and in my junk folder is a mail from Hoyts (for the uninitiated, a cinema is Australia) inviting me to buy tickets. Sent a couple of days ago.
I am now going to nail my head to the wall. Then cry.
It's disturbing. The mannequins of adults have heads, but there are fields of these headless children. Shitloads of them.
Has someone harvested the heads of the plastic children? Some deeply perverted fucker made a head display in his front room? It's wrong.
Or it might be even wronger. What if they were designed like this? Has no-one thought about how stupid it'd look if they were being chased by these, Dr. Who style? And who the fuck is going to buy something being worn by a headless child?
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It's popular enough to get beaten down like an aging hooker every now and again, but hey. I've been there 24 hours and it feels like home.
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Over 50 episodes of Astroboy goodness. I'm in heaven.
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Post #17 by ♦Katie (Today, 4hrs 7mins ago)
and get over the bastard routine cause its booooororring!!
Post #18 by ♦Willis (Today, 4hrs 6mins ago)
its his thing.. leave him alone.
bastard is the new pink!!!
So true. I love you all. In a bastard way.
More next month.
This is awesome.
Ah. not so good. Not so bad. At least we fucked over the Kevin bloke.
Boring, but these tests are amusing:
| Hank Scorpio You scored 80 Evil! |
You're quite the evil bastard, but you do it with confidence and a sunny disposition. Though you love people, you appreciate them more if they're somehow helping you in your quest for world domination. The problem is that you still have some good in you. You're not quite as evil as you can be. Is that a good thing? Yes, it means less people trying to kill you. But it also means that you can be taken advantage of. Enslave some more monkeys and maybe, just maybe, you can be truly evil. |
|
My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender:
|
| Link: The Pure Evil Test written by Luciferon on Ok Cupid |
I'm also
| Buffy Summers 45% amorality, 81% passion, 45% spirituality, 81% selflessness |
| Well, what can one say? Passionate, down-to-earth, unfailingly moral (ehh, basically) and utterly selfless. In short, a hero. Congratulations! If you enjoyed this test, I would love the feedback! Also, you might want to check out some of my other tests if you're interested in the following: Thanks Again! -- THE 4-VARIABLE BUFFY PERSONALITY TEST |
|
| Link: The 4-Variable Buffy Personality Test written by donathos on Ok Cupid |
I return to read this:
<"http://www.slightlydisgruntled.co.uk/images/blog/DSC00575thumb.jpg">
And I wonder if my entire childhood was a lie. Should I have had the fear all the time.
I will eat the ice-cream of life while walking around this paradise and consider the situation.
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Aside from the fact that EVERY picture of one of my female friends seems to attract a SO HOT!!! comment, some people really take themselves a little seriously. But it's OK. I dealt with the situation, with **** and EVERYTHING.
At least I didn't say feck. You know who you are.
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I like flickr. I like this toy.
Put "Favorite" in, and see what you get out. I got loads of my own photos, which was a nice surprise.