Ah Dear readers...just when you thought it was safe...yes. Once again I am approached (in a singular, never-to-be-repeated-with-anyone-else manner no doubt) by what I am sure is a lovely, blushing-bride-to-be-type, innocent yet knowleadgeble in the art of love, caricature of female lovelyness.
The fact that she sounds like either a semi-literate Russian/Filipino mail-order-bride/prostitute/sex-trafficed person is I am sure incidental. Nevertheless I hope you will forgive a slight critique of her technique (in red for your convenience)
gloriababy
Blog|Profile|19 Aug 2009 06:57
hello
Hello,
I'm so glad, i just browsing right now in the Internet and found your profile here and your profile talks good about you, [presumably if I wrote my own profile I am unlikely to talk badly about myself...but I guess her gladness is in view of this very fact...she is happy I am not completely retarded...cool. Nothing says "sexy" like extremely low personal standards!] I was much feelings over it, [Now this I would have liked a little more details on...I mean what kind of feelings? Where you one hand keyboard jockeying just as soon as you saw my profile pic or did you fly into a murderous rage complete with speaking in tongues...cause you know...it kinda makes a difference...] pls i have something very important to tell you.
[Go right ahead...]
urgent my mail id ( gloriabest22@yahoo.com) [your mail id is urgent? hmmm...o-ookk....]
meanwhile not forget to ask you about your health which is most important thing for me to know [See this is where I am thinking about those "feelings" you mentioned above. Because what with me being a complete stranger to you, this unnatural keenness on my health makes you sound like an organ harvester...and this is certainly attractive, but probably a bit less than the point above on low-personal standards...]
and your family as well my regard to all, [So it wasn't just me you were obsessed with due to my natural good looks...you are very concerned for my whole family's health....yeah...organ harvester...it's sounding more likely by the minute...]
please i will like us to hold a good long time relationship with a real love, trust,kindness,faithful, [Ok I am going with the "hold" being a mistranslated "have" because otherwise the creepiness factor just went through the roof even for an organ harvester] I'm happy to look at your profile today,[you are staring at it even as you type this? Wow. Comforting.] you sound so gentle to me [Clearly your reading comprehension needs a lot of work then dear]
that was the reason why i fall very much interested in you, [Yes, yes, I see...along with your low personal standards, unhealthy interest in mine and my family's organs, you fell hard for me also based on your lack of capacity to comprehend the English laguage]
Please send your massage to my private box. [I have to admit, depending on the type of massage and the exact properties of your box and/or current contents/previous users, this could actually be kind of fun to think about] For more introduction and my pictures will be send to you by next mail,so we can know each other better.
[Oh but I feel we know so much about each other already just by a brief look at your mail I think we can see how much we already have learnt about you...surely a couple of soft porn images could do no harm even if you sent them right away!]
lots of love princess gloria
[I wonder if this is a real title? Dare I hope?]
take good care of yourself..........
[Again with the health/organ harvesting thing...]
i pray that God will give you long life and more years to come...
[ah...ye-es...the creepiness factor has just gone through the roof now. You want to harvest my organs AND keep me alive for progressive harvesting! My God my Ninja Maid was right, I am being stalked a-la Chev Chelios by organ harvesters from some pidgin English speaking God-forsaken land of triad-infested crime organisations. Cool. I was just getting a bit bored today...]
PS: Spammers...now this type of spam obviously will work great on me...but I'm just thinking, the more discerning customer might not be exactly falling over himself to get involved you know. I know, I know, it's a shock to me too, but most people sadly would rather not fight off a horde of organ harvesters who speak bad English and have low personal standards
I think I want one of these jetpacks!
If you live in the UK and read any newspapers or watch any news you will already know the story of Baby P and can spare yourself the section headed as The Backstory which though I really do want to keep short, mostly to safeguard my own mental health as well as yours, are actually necessary to know in at least enough detail to understand the situation I am discussing here.
Before I do that however let me point out that this article should once and for all answer all the politics, all the legal argument, and all the rightful sense of what justice actually is and how to actually get it. For every human being on Earth, pretty much forever. Is this a bold claim? Not really. Someone already did it before me and more eloquently, and I shall be borrowing heavily from his simple, yet brilliant work. Because unfortunately the words of this man have been (intentionally to my mind) forgotten by history. In fact, so clear was his sense of what justice actually was that I would put him on a par with Newton, Tesla and Einstein with respect to the advancement, the discovery if you prefer, he made for humanity in this regard. Perhaps unsurprisingly then, like Tesla, he is mostly unknown. More is the pity because while we enjoy the fruit of Tesla’s genius any time we use anything that runs on electricity, without needing to understand a jot about how any of it works, this other man’s work requires you actually spend some time using those frontal lobes considering things before you can truly benefit from his no less illuminating discovery than Tesla’s.
I assure you however that if you are bored stiff by the talk of politics and law, government and rules and civil and criminal law-making, as indeed am I and indeed are most natural, sane, healthy human beings, that reading his work is like suddenly discovering that a subject you thought was the most grey fog-fart of boredom is actually a valley sprinkled with joy, freedom and happiness. Reading this article will not be easy, but I promise you it will get you to re-evaluate your life in a way you have never done before if you do study it and particularly if you read up on the man I reference at the end of it.
The Backstory
Peter Connelly died age 17 months as a result of torture and beatings and injuries so severe it included a broken back over a period that ran most of his short life. He had over 50 serious injuries and despite over 60 visits in the 8 months prior to his death by so called “professional” social workers of Haringey Council headed by one Sharon Shoesmith was allowed to continue staying with the people who tortured him to death. Sharon Shoesmith and a few others from the council were subsequently fired by the Minister of Education Ed Balls. She is currently suing for reinstatement and using taxpayer monies to do it. Which in some small measure must mean my tax payments are supporting her in this action.
The people who brutalised and eventually killed little Peter were in varying degrees of culpability, his own mother, Tracey Connelly – 28, her boyfriend Steven Barker – 33, and her boyfriend’s older brother Jason Owen – 37 whom changed his name from Barker.
In order to put things in a little more perspective it needs to be also added as a bare minimum that Steven Barker was also convicted of the rape of a 2 year old girl and his brother changed name after they were tried for torturing and beating their own 82 year old grandmother into making her will out to them. The case was dropped when she died of pneumonia through the proceedings.
Owen whom was lodging with Connelly and Barker also had what continues to be described in the media as a 15 year old girlfriend. I fail to understand how a child below the legal age of consent for sex can be a girlfriend rather than a rape victim in the legal terms which supposedly the media should be careful to use.
Even more disturbing are some of the revelations of the torture that little Peter suffered, the details of it and the reactions supposedly of laughter from his own mother as they occurred.
Now let’s look at the convictions they got.
The mother Tracey Connelly has been sentenced to a minimum of 5 years and her boyfriend Steven Barker to a minimum of 12 years but apparently he also got a life sentence for raping the 2 year old girl. Jason Owen has been sentenced to 3 years despite supposedly being instrumental in the influencing of Steven Barker and torturing of little Peter.
They are apparently appealing their sentences and it is thought that upon their eventual release they will be provided with brand new identities. All of course at taxpayer’s cost.
Sharon Shoesmith and her cohort of shit-eaters got fired from their jobs but were not charged with the obvious criminal negligence they exhibited and she and apparently others too are appealing the loss of their job through the courts using tax payer funded monies for their appeal.
The Situation Currently
A little boy not even one and a half year old died in the most horrific circumstances imaginable because of the unspeakable evil, twisted, sick minds of three oxygen thieves and the utterly criminal incompetence of the brain damaged pieces of shit that purport to be social workers in Haringey Council.
The sentences passed down do not in any way seem adequate to anyone I know, and the tax paid by normal people is supporting all of the above-mentioned guilty parties.
What this has to do with you
I am not writing this for morbid curiosity or to inspire useless feelings of guilt, rage and impotent anger. I have never been one of these unfortunately common types who tell you how terrible something is without ever providing any kind of solution. I hate those guilt spreading motherfuckers with a passion. It’s why in a lot of ways a lot of the Greenpeace types irritate me. Stop telling me how many children starve in the Sudan. I know. I lived in Africa most of my life. You really want to do something about it? Become a multi-millionaire, look up the old Executive Outcomes guys, hire a bunch of mercenaries, go to the Sudan and mop up that bunch of rabid monkeys with guns that pass for a military force in most Africa, just like Executive Outcomes did in Sierra Leone before the UN forced them out and then allowed the massacre and mutilation of hundreds of thousands of men, women and children, who had their arms chopped off, because using mercenaries as a way to stabilise a region (so as to control the flow of diamonds from the mines) was unacceptable. Much better to let little kids have their limbs chopped off so the diamond prices are lower don’t you know.
So no. I am not just writing this to spread more negativity through the ether. In fact the process of writing this is personally difficult. I find I have to use a lot of willpower to remain balanced. It’s the little things that let me know it apart from the somewhat more familiar dry mouth and nervous tension. Like creating a separate folder far away from the one that holds the images of the incomprehensible shits that killed little Peter for his picture. I don’t want to store his image in the same location as theirs.
And I feel voyeuristic and disturbed even at doing this article though I know it is necessary and has a good purpose. My personal way of putting this thing at peace inside myself I am not legally allowed to do.
So here it is. If you have the moral fortitude to follow me in this journey of a few minutes I want you to read with me and travel with me down some hypothetical roads but I want you to be honest with this and actually think about these answers. They may take a little work but they will not be anywhere near as unpleasant as what you have already read, I promise. And I promise too that if you do, you will most likely have a new perspective about life by the end of it. One that will hopefully grant you more personal freedom and hence, I hope, improve your life not insignificantly.
Your Kingdom
In the first place I would like you to imagine that you are suddenly teleported to an alternate Universe, one in which things are pretty much the same as in this one but with one personally very meaningful difference. In this alternate Universe you are the Emperor for life of the UK. Your word is as that of a God from ancient times and your subjects will not question any choice you make with regard to the making of laws.
This case of Baby Peter is presented before you. What judgement do you pass on the above mentioned persons? Be clear. Be specific. Be detailed. Do not take it as a joke, but actually think about it for the time it takes you to seriously consider it and chose a course of action.
All done? Good.
Now there is just one other thing. You personally have to carry out that sentence to them. So if you thought a fitting punishment would be to oh I don’t know, impale them then you will have to personally place them on the sharpened poles yourself. Now do not trouble yourself with details such as your physical prowess. They can be fully restrained, you can use an electric which to hoist them up, you know, no physical danger or exertion required of you beyond that which you may personally wish to put in yourself, but you do have to personally carry out the punishment. Still ok with that? Sure about it? Consider it honestly. It may be that you will find yourself changing your mind a bit.
So re-consider if you have to until you are satisfied with your course of action. Again, be clear. Be specific. Be detailed.
Now imagine again, that instead of Baby P it was your own child they did that to. If you do not have a child imagine having one. Now re-evaluate what you would be willing to do. Different again? Think about it seriously again.
All done? Good. The hard part is all over now. Now we are ready to consider a few things.
What is Justice? What is Law? Who decides? Why?
In ancient time justice was the province of the Gods. Later it was the province of demi-gods and later still of Human Kings and Queens, yet still dispensed by “divine right”. Apparently Kings and Queens are godly don’t you know. Magna Carta supposedly changed that. If you actually read it it’s far from a document of universal emancipation. Eventually we have come down to our current “democracy” which purports to be better than the Kingly rule of the dark ages say, though take away the technological advancements and it is very arguable indeed. But why do these people get to decide what is a just law to be followed and an unjust action that becomes a crime? They do so by force and by threat of force and no other right whatsoever.
Don’t believe me? Try and go mete out your just punishment to one of those three killers or even to the criminal social workers and see if you don’t get put in jail by force.
Apparently it has been reported that £5,000 per eye has been offered for the three killers in jail. When I first read it I thought blinding them would not be enough, but then I thought about it and I understood some thought had gone into this. In some ways a life as a blind person in a jail must be worse than a swift death. It showed a certain conscious thought process had gone into this. And supposedly by other criminals in the same jails that the Barkers/Owen and Connelly inhabit.
The reality is that all law is an abomination and a crime upon honest persons. An honest man that is educated in ethics knows full well what is right and wrong and all communities of such persons in small numbers do not let one of their neighbours starve through old age nor a vicious crime go unpunished through inaction. Yet today by force and threat of force most persons are just so many sheeple penned in, fleeced regularly and enslaved as surely as if they had a plough attached to their neck.
The truth is that any person can and should get whatever justice they can by their own efforts or the efforts of others organised by them achieve to satisfy a wrong to its correct balance. What is this balance? Who is to say? I put it to you that it is not so hard to find out.
In the example above of your kingdom I asked you several questions. This was not to torture your mind. It had a purpose. Did you notice the difference? I did.
Removed from all responsibility my first instinct was something akin the lines of flailing them alive, pouring salt all over them but ensure they stay alive for repeated daily flagellations over a period of months until ideally they eventually perish from neurological cellular insanity rather than actual physical direct organ damage. I’m just saying. That’s just what popped up right now in a second, I am sure I could make it a lot more creative given a couple more minutes, but I am totally serious about it.
Considering it in more detail however and if I had to administer it myself, I would not want the deed itself to pollute my mind for such a long time. At the same time, I would want to inflict enough pain on them for the duration of the death sentence. The infliction of massive pain by the way is not just some primitive barbaric ritual born of rage. This may disturb a few of you because it goes to some concepts of the afterlife and so on, however, I have asked you to be honest and I can do no less myself. They would have to suffer enough that their souls realise what they have done. Given the unimaginably thick armour of their bodies so far removed from even a mere modicum of compassion, I estimate this level of pain to be colossal. So If I had to do it myself I think I would go with a baseball bat and a couple of hours each. I could be done in a day and I am pretty sure I’d still get to save their souls. And eventually I would sleep ok without thinking about them. This is after all a very special case and I’d be willing to sacrifice some of my humanity for it. It might just seem disturbed to most of you but in reality, it’s weirdly enough quite a Christian concept. I do worry about that, because nothing much good ever came from that fucked up religion, but I also take comfort in the concept of karmic retribution and reincarnation. I’m sure by the time I would be done their incarnations forever after would know not to ever do any of that shit ever again. It would be burnt into them eternally.
The social services people who performed the visits would get at the very least several decades of hard labour where they have to not just earn their keep but make a positive contribution to society through manual labour. The people who supervised them would join them as would their leader. Their own food, water and oxygen taking cuts first if they should get sick or injured in their work. No reprieve beyond a couple of hours a week of silent meditation at a religious order of their choice, only basic but adequate food and lodging for survival would be supplied and any medicines required would of course have to be earned. Again they would remain just basic. If they die they die. No great loss.
Considering this however it becomes clear that if you had a job as court executioner you would go insane after a short while. This by the way has been proven time and again when observing patterns of torture and what it does to the torturers. The Nazis being the classic example of how a supposedly normal dentist after a few months in a camp where people are routinely tortured becomes the most unspeakable evil torturer himself.
This happens because institutionalising brutality is not natural. Even when it would be for a just cause. Of course people worry about the lowest common denominator and say that without laws total anarchy would reign and terror would be rampant in every streets.
Anarchy per se is actually a good thing. Etymologically it means no sacred priesthood interpreting truth for you so it can only be a good thing. It also implies you have to do your own thinking instead of have it done for you. Sadly most humans are no better than your average Bonobo ape and have little or no interest in the study of what I describe:
The precise natural laws of physics as they apply to the human condition. Ethics.
Which is something far removed and quite different from – and not to be confused with – morals.
So yes, the problem is real. However this means that men who are honest and ethical are imprisoned by the same violent bullies that impose their will on all the Bonobos and are in fact little better themselves and often far worse. They are generally also known as government in its various forms.
In effect, the ethical man has no recourse now or even later, in a supposedly (and hopefully) more enlightened age, other than to do justice by himself for himself.
A rational, ethical man of course would do so reasonably and proportionally.
In this respect then, whether they are ethical or honest or not, the so called criminals putting a bounty of £5,000 per eye on the three people directly responsible for baby Peter’s death I feel are certainly doing a better job of exacting some measure of justice than the whole legal machine of the United Kingdom.
In fact I have seldom seen a better argument for the hypothetical introduction of Assassination Politics
If there was such a system in place I am sure I would certainly donate to that “lottery”. Weekly.
At the very least several hundred if not thousands of times the amount of money that the government is illegally and forcefully taking from me that goes towards funding the continued existence of all those involved in the murder of that innocent child.
Notes:
- The Man whom I mention at the start is Lysander Spooner and in particular his essay on Natural Law. It’s 8 pages of printed paper which will pretty much amount to all the politics any sane person will ever need for his whole life. Worth the 5 minutes it takes to read it. The Logic alone in this essay is a work of masterful art and worth admiring just on its own merits too.
- Assassination Politics was first conceived by Jim Bell. He was later jailed for retaining a list of IRS employees with names and addresses (they have a list with you on it but that is legal you see…) and if memory serves throwing a stink bomb. He got several years and was banned from accessing computers. Go ahead and argue how that punishment fit the crime.
My little sister gave me this as a present when she came back from her holiday in Italy and it was so cool I had to post it. It's also hilarious in some parts so enjoy. Explanatory notes in brackets are from me.
40 Things You Taught Me.
1. Colour by number. – Is one of the very first things I remember you teaching me. You had these elaborate colour by number patterns (they weren’t the usual tree, or horse in a meadow pictures) I just scribbled through all the numbers and you kept freaking and getting me to start over. I finally got that each number was a different colour, but then still scribbled through a row of 2’s in red, instead of doing each block individually. We were in the old house were the phone number was 301, we were sitting at a table and mom kept walking past shaking her head saying ‘it’s not that she doesn’t understand, she doesn’t care.’ I think Aldo was sleeping at a friend’s house so you were trying to train me up to side-kick level, but it took some time. Eventually I got it. I recall you had a sweaty brow and was ve ry happy…..I also think this is already where your hair loss started.
[Aldo is our brother]
2. Area of a Square- (more hair loss) When I saw the reaction you had to Aldo asking you the day before his exam, I figured I better listen because this shit seems even more important than the colour by number.
[The day before his O Level math exam my little bro came up to me and said...now...I have managed to get this far without knowing this, but I think it might come up in the exam so i was wondering if you can help me out with this...he then asked me how to find the area of a square. I went on to explain a bit more than that but stopped short when it came to the volume of a sphere as I could see that after the triangle we had reached ROM saturation]
3. The first self help book I read was ‘Mind Power’ that you told me about.
4. You taught me how to swim.
5. How to add dice while playing D&D.
6. How to use dice…..ya I was like Tadau with them just kind of threw them at the table, you taught me to cup ‘em in my hands and rolllll….I then taught Tadau.
[Tadau was a baboon we kept at home. He spent some time chained to a pole in the garden but when he got too big and dangerous to the dogs and visitors he lived in a large cage we had built for him]
7. Place Value, you taught me all about Hundreds Tens and Units, thousands made my head hurt so we left it at Hundreds.
8. You taught Aldo and I chess.
9. Encyclopaedias, before the time of Google you showed me these paged havens of knowledge……….
10. …………and hence you taught me all about alphabetical order and finding things with this great magical system.
11. As a kid you told me Fizzy Drinks were making me a porker……I think there was more to it, but this was my first introduction to good food, bad food, and ever since am not a huge fan of fizzy drinks.
12. Unfortunately your lessons on cheese took me longer to learn and a pipe up my ass did the trick, but you planted the seed on the dairy cheese thing.
[She went for a colonic irrigation and for some reason after that she finally realised dairy is bad for you. Weird but true.]
13. Ironically enough I had never meet Bailey’s ice-cream and ass explosions till you introduced me to the delicious evil.
[Ass explosions - Violent expulsion of matter from your butt]
14. On that note you did also plant the seed of ass cleaning, I had to take it to the next level though!
[We may have started by discussing Janet Jackson's propensity for coffee enemas and my explanation of what that was...]
15. Aliens: Never knew much about them till you started talking.
16. Your book taught me I like seeing our name in BIG print. When I saw Filotto Big and Bold on the spine of your book I thought, ya I want to do that too.
17. Listen to people so you can prove them wrong…not. I have always remembered the story you told of when you were in Cape Town and you were the only white guy in the class and you were all given a maths problem. The black dude behind you or working with you said yours was wrong and you thought ‘ya right’ and then said ‘ok show me what you did’ but deep down you were thinking ‘knob, he’ll see his mistake’. So in the end he was right and you were like, ‘hey I learned not to assume and listen and see where people come from……I still Judge but I liked that, I thought: When there are no Muslims I’ll be like that!
18. Origami- Which I then taught to kids at school
19. In the last house we lived in, in Gabs, the U shaped one. You drew a small picture of 2 naked people hugging. Drawing didn’t come as naturally to you as it did to Aldo and you sat at this thing for ages. I remember mom saying look at him persevere, he doesn’t have the gift like Aldo but he has the strength and motivation (she probably really said something like balls) to do it, and in the end that picture was brilliant. (I think then she mentioned something about if Aldo was that motivated he may learn to read….I think it was about around the time he asked about the square thing).
20. Past Lives- Halleluja h it was good to know all things I had been seeing in my head and around me were also in your head…..scared me a bit at first, but then was all good.
21. People that are the weakest scream the loudest. You crashed Christine and came to tell dad with a very ‘up yours’ attitude and he didn’t even raise his voice, cause you looked like you were going to pounce first if he did try to give you shit about it, and I remember thinking WOW look what happened to mom and Aldo with the red car cause they were all scared and look what happened to you when you confronted him.
[Christine was my first car. It was a blue Toyota Cressida or something of that name I think but made of solid metal and it had, I swear I am not making this up, over 400,000 km on the clock (over ten times around the planet at the equator or if you prefer, over one light second of distance on it. It was named after the Stephen King car in the movie by the same name. It was crashed twice by people who essentially rammed me out of the blue and still survived. It was unkillable, hence the name.]
22. Why dad really left mom. I couldn’t understand why this pomp was different from any of the others, you let me in on the gory details, thanks.
23. You pointed out to me that growing up in Africa with all the animals (not our family, the 4 legged ones) is something most people dream of and I had first hand. Which in turn made me agree with - I've learned that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.
24. The story of our Grandfather in his pub. I didn’t know about him, or that fountain or that we have some Venetian in us.
25. Hypnosis is not magic.
26. Derren Brown.
27. NCIS.
28. Chinotto.
29. Blogs - I was never sure of them till I saw yours.
30. Internet ‘dating.’
31. Jason Statham AKA- Chev Chelios.
32. Be a girl, let the men pay and carry heavy shit. (Still learning it but it’s a work in progress.)
33. Tottie/Mntondo is good for the soul.
34. Be a lazy ass at work, English style. I have quit mastered that art and brought my own ‘Eh Eish’ to the table…or ‘unda da tree’ really.
35. Women are crazy, but then again most men are assholes.
36. Being promiscuous is about finding out what you like, its not a bad word!
37. Aldo taught me how to get dressed, well put pants on really. I always put both my legs in the same pant hole, so he technically taught me how to put my pants on…..you and London have undone all his hard work.
38. I like to be comfortable. When I walked into your house that first time I thought, nice I could get use to this….then I felt bad for liking nice and comfortable, but you pointed out it is what one deserves.
39. Relax and find out what makes you happy. ( Last year April when you told me to stop working chill, breathe and listen to my inner self…..when it hadn’t been eating cheese of course.)
40. Well its not so much as you taught me but you were the main reason I had one of The Best Days of My Life in Egypt.
40 Years ago man walked on the moon….coincidence…..I think not ;)
Lots of Love Me. X x x
I think I have suddenly discovered an unknown love of football!!
I have pretty much always hated football. It speaks to the lowest common denominator, is filled with many thousands of retarded "adoring" fans for each player, many of whom are fanatical and sometimes so to the point of violence.
Mostly I hate it because most of the people "involved" in football are actually spectators who can hardly get off their arse to grab the next beer, never mind run on a field for 90 minutes. I've also never been a great fan of team sports in general, preferring individual pursuits such as swimming, fencing and martial arts.
However I have recently discovered the amazing origins of football. Thank God for clicking on random bits of obscure information on the internet.
As it happens football has it's ancient origins in a city I actually know quite well as I used to travel there regularly.
Firenze. In Italy. And the original game has little resemblance to modern football, in fact if you can speak Italian the guy in the Video below explains that it was the English who "civilized" football with such sissy things like rules and not punching opposite team members in the face.
For a more complete explanation of what I am talking about, go to the link to read about what has been labelled as the Manliest Game on Earth: Calcio Fiorentino
Generally, the only thing worse than being told about someone's dream is reading about their birthday. Reading about someone's birthday party is probably less of a thrill than say reading the instructions on the correct operation of a colostomy bag.
So consider this a social experiment. Possibly along the lines of something that Stanley Milgram would have thought of. However I guarantee at least one picture that will make you smile or laugh to make up for it.
Given that Saturday was supposed to be one of the "big" birthdays,* but in reality mostly because I actually enjoy parties more when with Redhead Girl, I decided pretty much last minute to invite some friends for dinner at Busaba, which is a Thai fusion kind of restaurant. I basically e-mailed everyone 3 days before to let them know and ask if they would come along. Every one of them actually turned up too which means my Martian ways must have some success on your planet despite my propensity for much liberal zap-gun use.
Especially since one person came from Brighton and another all the way from Belgium, literally just to hang out with me for one evening and return home the next day. And I only met this guy when training in Canada in May so it's not like we had fond childhood memories to relate with. Mostly just the fact we punched each other a bit and admired a golf-ball-sized black eye he'd got there by one of the instructors.
Anyway, some of you may recall that when Redhead Girl had her birthday I had got her a few gifts and a "main" present,** at which time she had said she didn't know what she would have to do other than send me to Mars.
Now as it turns out Redhead Girl is a pretty amazing entertainer, at her friend's wedding she organised a roomful of half-drunk people to play weird but fun games and mobilsed the whole place until everyone was actually in the spirit of it and having lots of fun.
So when on Saturday she stood up and clinked a glass for attention and said "Speech!" I sort of assumed she was going to get me to say something... More fool me.
It turns out she was the one going to give the short speech.
She proceeded to explain how on her birthday I gave her a cool present and she felt the only way she could make it up at the time was to send me to Mars. So we're all listening wondering where she's going with it when she says "...So all I have to say is..." and then she turns to stare at me with big eyes and says:
"Are you ready?!?!"
At which point a few things happened simultaneously and I really wish I had a picture of what my face looked like because quite honestly I have never been surprised quite to that extent.
In my head I was still wondering what the hell she was talking about, but actually I was going through possibilities. A small level of anxiety was actually building up about the possibility of a trip to Mars. Not at the prospect of going of course, but of how she would have managed to organise it!
Now I KNOW it's not possible for me to get to Mars in reality from here...like... now...but... frankly this girl has some amazing powers so I was just figuring through them...
Russian space missions are becoming cheaper but...maybe I really made a mistake giving her my credit card details for the weekly shopping...(besides, they don't go to Mars...they just reach Earth orbit - when they don't blow up en route to that..!)...
Anti-gravity machines? Are they really lifting the lid on that commercially?!? Wow...Just who does she know to organise that???
And while my mind was spinning through all of these, a sudden laughter from all around the table and a waitress with this entered the room:
Now, you might not be able to see a little but important detail about the Astronauts on that shuttle so here's a close up.
I think you'll find that apart from a few details of the space-suits, they got an uncanny likness to these two sexy Martians, see for yourselves.
But the cake wasn't the end of it...quite the opposite. As it turns out, Redhead Girl in secret collusion with my mom, brother and sister, none of whom are actually in London at the moment figured out a way to get me closer to Mars in reality. They got me a baloon flight with champagne breakfast. Which quite honestly sounds like the right way to travel to another planet to me.
And she also got me a trip to Greece with her, AND on the 27th of August Mars will be the closest it's ever been to Earth for many thousands of years so I will in actual reality of fact, given I will be in the air on a plane on the 26th of August and doing the baloon flight sometime soon too, be one of the very few human beings in recorded human history who has actually been physically closest to the planet Mars ever!
Beat that for a birthday present. It's now official. Redhead Girl is obviously a Martian too! It's only a matter of time before we uncover our spaceship and rightful ownership of the title of Solar System Emperor-Prince.
She always says I'm already a Prince now*** so we're getting closer daily, and the adventure continues dear readers.
* Though mine was last year for me due to the date 08-08-08 and the fact I went with my little brother and sister to Egypt to climb the pyramids and so on.
** The Video
*** She keeps referring to her having kissed me already****
**** A bit strange surely, however notice the coincidence of the logo at the top of this blog on the left corner, which I picked long before I met her...
So my little brother surprised me with an early delivery of his gift via Amazon and last night I got this suspicious package complete with wrapping and tasteful card. I couldn't figure out what it was. Inside was a yellow box with a strange opening mechanism where once you take the lid off one side of the box opens out too. Inside this...
Another Yellow box. This time made of something that could be leather and also with a weird texture and size. A logo of wings with a little Swiss-like cross in the middle made me think maybe my little brother had bought me some kind of Swiss Army knife. A weapon of some sort? Whatever it was inside this mysterious little box was bound to be cool. My little brother generally has good taste, so I knew it would be something James Bond kind of cool.
And indeed it was. Here's what was inside the box.
And as it happens I was also right about it being some kind of weapon. This picture cannot actually give you any idea of the size of this thing. If you were to hold it by the wrist strap and smack someone in the head with it, it would make a good sap.
Wearing it regularly would probably compensate my left shoulder for that dislocation I had years ago. Not to mention basically make any punch I would throw with that hand sort of illegal, what with the added weight it would be like hitting someone with a barbell.
Of course it functions like a high-quality time piece, so its utter lethality as a weapon of death is completely under the radar - James Bond cool indeed. I'm still thinking it probably has the whole metal-wire garrotte in there too, I just need to figure out how to get to it. Then again, given the size of this thing it may well have a couple of Tokarevs and an AK-47 stashed in it.
A while ago I also found something almost equally brutally manly
I am not sure what it is about this watch, but it sort of gives you the feeling that armed with nothing other than this watch and this knife you basically could go and conquer Afghanistan in a week-end and then go and conquer the whole of the continental USA the week after (for balance you know). Next of course you would take a trip through Verne's Center of the Earth and finally meet up with Captain Nemo, by diving straight to his Submarine in the Mindanao Deep just using the watch and a good lungful of air. The Knife would be used to dispatch the giant killer octopuses on the way to the sub, but you wouldn't talk about it though, it would just be incidental.
So yeah. Cool Birthday present. Thanks Little Bro!
