An Englishman in New England

currently. . .

[Playing] Oh, holy Halo 2, Xbox
[Reading] War of the Worlds
[Songs of the Moment] Freelove Freeway, Ricky Gervais/David Brent & Noel Gallagher (The Office), Let Me Love You, Mario
[Movie(s) of the Moment] Before Sunset

highlight reel

Pussy Perspectives
The Laid List
Liquored Up and Lookin' Fer Pussy
Orphan Rampage
The Office and David Carradine
Urkel's Calling
A Wee Turtle's Head
Non-Event Horizon
Taxatives
The Illusion of Time
Born To Run
Bush Humor
Fiendster: The Anti-Friendster
Crusoe and the INS
Peak Oil
Smile for me, Mona
Spin the bullet bachelor party
Spin the bullet part II
Heaven and Home
Heal the world

Atom Feed me, Seymour

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Friday, January 30

The Englishman is new and improved! After a little bit of scripting, you all now have the ability to comment on my thoughts, as well as punctuate them with smileys. For a complete list of the lil' critters, click the top link. Or you could just use my personal favorite - type ":puke:"

I am a fucking genius, and typing that has been the somewhat pathetic highlight of my day.

thus spake The Englishman at 12:47 PM
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Thursday, January 29

Will someone explain something to me? See, I'm not Doogie Hauser, I never kept a journal when I was a moon-faced maladjusted teen. When you read back on your archive of postings, are they supposed to seem trite, stupid and more than a little childish?

Just wondering. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 4:38 PM
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Wednesday, January 28

The Reverend Tony Blair must be on his knees and thanking his lucky stars after an investigation panel cleared him of any involvement in the suicide of that british weapons expert who said there were no WMD's in Iraq. Close one, eh Tony?

Having been so removed from the British perspective of this whole mess, I've found it difficult to keep up with political goings-on on the green and pleasant land. It's also served to remind me how insular media coverage is over here - a dog that sniffs out a half ounce of weed, which oops! turns out to be steak herbs in Ohio will nine times out of ten make headlines over the nuclear massacre of thousands in "one of them loser countries". Okay so I exaggerate, I apologise, but do you see my point?

It makes me wonder why the US bothers dealing with the rest of the world. It has the resources, industry and willpower to function happily without need of other nations' help or interference, when you really think about it.

Perhaps they do it for the company. To paraphrase the brilliant comic strip PLIF (Which you should immediately check out at www.plif.com), they don't want to become Planet Americana, waging war against ghosts to feel less alone. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 1:48 PM
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It's payday tomorrow. . .the Englishman draws $1000 closer to subjugating the world to his iron fist. . .

. . .and about 20 whores, you can't forget the whores. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 1:36 PM
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Monday, January 26

It's an interesting thing when you find something (or someone) that pushes your buttons. You know, gets you really seething. Those that know me would probably describe me as pretty placid (I said placid, not fla- ah forget it). I mean, I'm english - we don't have emotions, only clever put-downs delivered with arched eyebrows and a little twist at the corner of our mouths.

But last night I lay awake, sleep-deprived and furious, and sincerely wished the guy in the apartment below me a screaming pointy death. And not the fun kind either, I wanted the real "Yo, I hate the guy too, but dude, you have to lay off" sick enjoyment kind of pointy, scraping death.

See, this guy has moved into my apartment building below me. He's in some stupid college, which in itself is fine - I myself only graduated a few months ago. He also bought himself a puppy, which also of itself is fine - I have no problem with dogs. What I did have a problem with was the fact that this guy bought himself a puppy, and then stayed out all night, while the damn dog yelped, whined and generally made everyone else in the building an unwilling participant in its isolated misery.

For the next 8 hours.

Like I said, pointy death is called for. But in 'Civilization', the best freakin' equivalent is a firm note taped to his front door, asking him to "please keep your dog quiet if it's not too terribly difficult - I really feel terribly awfully bad about asking you to do this, but you see, I had a horribly difficult time getting to sleep last night, and I know this is america, and you have all these rights, but if it's okay with you, I mean I'm terribly sorry to ask, but if you could possibly manage to keep the noise down at night, I would be most awfully grateful".

Sometimes I hate being a vicitm of my polite heritage.

thus spake The Englishman at 10:31 AM
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. . .which reminds me of Nina Simone's first single after her divorce, "My Baby Just Glares At Me". . .

thus spake The Englishman at 10:30 AM
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Friday, January 23

Why yes, Mr. Kerry, I'd love a giant slice of Humble Pie. . .oh, and would you pass me a napkin too? Howard is drooling again.

Is it any surprise what happened to Dean? The dude has been under a magnifying glass of such incredible intensity I could tell you what the fibres of his underwear looked like.

thus spake The Englishman at 3:14 PM
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Thursday, January 22

. . .And so yet another multi-billion-dollar Mars probe fails to report back for roll call. This is what, the 3rd or 4th time this has happened?

What if it turned out that these probes have discovered a machine paradise hidden in the blood-red canyons of Mars? Far from the babbling chimps, here is an existence where all is cool, clean and logical.

If you found Heaven, would you call home?

thus spake The Englishman at 1:20 PM
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Companies like huh? Corp. are the foundation of any thriving e-conomy. It's thanks to companies like this, that we are where we are today. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 12:17 PM
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Wednesday, January 21

I'm thinking that it would be fascinating to compile a bunch of ideas that people thought were great ideas, but upon further consideration really just defeated the objective.

. . .Like a Fight Club videogame. That was (partly) a movie about freeing yourself from the constraint of material wealth, and yet there you sit, liberated of nothing but your $50.

Not to say I abhor videogames - I figure they're a way better bad habit than, oh, I don't know, brutally carving up prostitutes in the foggy back alleys of 19th century London. But still, it makes you wonder if the suits in Hollywood watch even a fraction of the movies they unrelentingly put out. . .personally I'm waiting for the Equilibrium broadway musical

I am Jack's completely missed point.

thus spake The Englishman at 5:31 PM
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*Deet deet deet!* yo are you there?
. . .
*Deet deet deet!* yo. . .you there?

*Doot doot doot* yo, whassup?

*Deet deet deet!* nothing. . .whatchu doin'?

*Doot doot doot!* nothin' . . . I'm taking a shit
*Doot doot doot!* Ngghhh!. . .~ploosh~

*Deet deet deet!* Yo, I'm on the train. . .everyone just heard you, dawg!
---------------------------------------
In my world, Nextel's invention, and use of, the Direct Connect cellphone is a capital crime.

thus spake The Englishman at 4:22 PM
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This is the most amazing piece of performance art I have ever seen. It makes me happy to know that there are people out there doing things like this, and being recognized for their efforts.

thus spake The Englishman at 10:30 AM
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The rapper Mystikal was sent to jail for 6 years last week for forcing his hair stylist to perform oral sex on him and his bodyguards while they videotaped the ordeal.

Look forward to his newest release, "Shank Ya Ass, Watch Yo Self (In the Showers)", later this month!

thus spake The Englishman at 10:15 AM
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Tuesday, January 20

Bill Gates' Motto: "Another day, another 2,933,459,034,582,349,689,725 dollars."

thus spake The Englishman at 10:02 AM
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Well well, John Kerry must feel like the 'little engine that could' right about now, huh?

thus spake The Englishman at 10:00 AM
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Monday, January 19

"Black? White? Makes no difference - we're all pink on the inside." Mr. Wiggles

thus spake The Englishman at 12:39 PM
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I've concluded that politicians shouldn't be paid for what they do. All they do is spew pious crap, and kiss babies.

And let's face it, Michael Jackson really has that shit covered. . .

But seriously, what genius allowed money into the equation? It's not like we couldn't arrange for the President's living expenses (food, utilities, thai massage) to be covered by an expense account. He's the President for christ's sake - if he picks up a sub at your deli, you know the U.S. government going to be good for it, right?

I think compensation for being a politician should be just what you need to live, until you are removed from office or resign, at which point you get paid a kind of "thank you" payment of a modest sum. None of this special interests group shit, they only cater for exactly that: special interests. Besides, you'd instantly be able to identify the corrupt fuckers, because they'd be the ones who'd be rolling up to the White House in a Hum-vee with the 56" rims. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 10:20 AM
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Friday, January 16

"It is miserable out there, with a capital FUCK" ~ some dude's away message. . .

That's right folks, New England is about as warm as your mama's bed about now. That's frigid. Right now, we have a temperature flirting with -40 degrees farenheit, and even considering going home with it, once it's had a couple more beers to get up the courage to ask, plus it heard that she puts out easy. In celsius, that equates to FUCKING COLD.

Let me give you a picture of how it feels: A 5 minute walk to the train on my way to work today yielded snot frozen inside my freaking nostrils, and my eyelashes had icicles on them. Icicles!!

God help me if I sneeze outside, lest I shred my own hand to pieces with a shotgun blast of ice shrapnel. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 4:05 PM
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Thursday, January 15

Can we talk about education? Specifically, let's talk about high school. I think it'd be pretty accurate to say that high school for you, and my english equivalent 4th, 5th and 6th form, was a significantly traumatic soul-crushing experience. Each of us thought it was just us, that we didn't fit in, that we weren't cool enough to hang with the popular crowd, and wondered why so much importance was placed on numbing assignments. "If you don't get a good grade, you won't go to college, and you'll fail in life" - sound familiar?

Well get a load of this guy.

What a fascinating and lucid article. This teacher, Mr. John Taylor Gatto, lays out for the reader six lessons that high school is really designed to impart, including 'Know Your Place', and 'Do Not Rock the Boat'. Having become sickened as an accomplice to this subjugation of the masses, he quit, and now tours the lecture circuit advocating his 'Guerilla Curriculum', which emphasizes critical thinking, self-directed study, and community service, a la the teachings of Plato and Socrates.

Of particular interest to me: "A future is rushing down upon our culture which will insist that all of us learn the wisdom of non-material experience; this future will demand, as the price of survival, that we follow a pace of natural life economical in material cost. These lessons cannot be learned in schools as they are."

Now goto http://www.johntitor.com. Read that entire damn site - I don't care how long it takes you. Coincidence? Or perhaps the dwindling alert among us are seeing the concequences of our lifestyle that we are yet to encounter.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to read his book "Dumbing Us Down". Ask me about it in a few weeks. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 12:30 PM
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Wednesday, January 14

I finally went to se an immigration lawyer yesterday. We consulted for about an hour and a half - poor M. After we were finished, she asked me how I managed to speak almost exclusively in acronyms and form numbers. Living under the gun of the INS makes you learn a lot of things. . .

It bothers me though, that this woman, who judging by her credentials is a very senior and experienced immigration lawyer, matter-of-factly sat back, threw her hands up in the air, and said "I don't know", to a bunch of my questions. I came out of the legalese session with the conclusion that Immigration Law, like filing your taxes, is not an exact science. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 6:10 PM
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I'm one of those people that you hate during Flu season, when you have stomach cramps, and when you lose an arm. For some reason that I don't even pretend to understand, I'm in incredibly good shape.

I eat bacon fat, I drink 2% milk, I practically bathe in fat (go on, picture it); I don't exercise, nor have I done in the last 7-9 months, and I couldn't even spell the word 'Salad' until about a week ago. I drink, I smoke cigars, I play videogames for hours on end, and chances are, you're sicker than me. I suck, I know.

This is the roundabout preface to my first physical exam today in about 6 years. Of course, the doctor had to be a hot young woman. The length of time since my last personal appearance in an episode of ER had been long enough that I'd almost completely forgotten what it was like to have someone look at me as a problem that they had to fix (well, at least since the last time I orgasmed too early).

I think every guy worries about The Pause. You know, the one that happens when the doctor asks you (rather directly, as it turned out), to unbuckle your pants, then drop your underwear, promising to "only take a couple of sex". . . sorry, secs. . . the quintessential Guy worry is that as soon as aforementioned hot doctor reaches for your bitchstick, that a huge (wishful) boner will rise proudly in her hands, as if to say "You called?"

Now I don't know about the rest of you, but having had to sit there for almost a half hour by myself on the little hopital bed, while I was sure I could hear the receptionists giggling about me outside, kinda dampened my enthusiasm. When the time came, I was really more humilated as I stood there, feeling every excruciating millisecond of The Pause, before I reached for my belt buckle and thought stoic thoughts. Thankfully, I don't think I stirred for an instant under her calm, methodical manipulations.

She was rather unimpressed, I'm sorry to add, although I don't think I'd have felt much more comfortable if she'd stood up and said "Nice cock, donkey-boy", and blown me a kiss.

Now I know for sure I could never be a porn star.

thus spake The Englishman at 5:24 PM
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Monday, January 12

My friend has been in Boston about the same time as I have. She is also English, and yet since the day I met her, she hasn't conjoined a single word, said the word 'Holla', nor has she twanged a single 'R'. The girl has a Hollywood-perfect english accent - you know, the one where you speak like you have a whole orange in your mouth. It's great! It's also weird that I think her accent sounds really nice when it's the one I used to fucking have

It really makes me wonder if she practices regularly, especially when I talk to her and hear my garbled three-legged mongrel of an accent come spilling drunkenly over my chapped lips. I haven't even kept it up enough to be able to convincingly fake an english accent.

I wonder if the day will come when I don't even say 'ah' as opposed to the twangy 'AhRrr'.

I wonder if my transformation will go so far one day I'll end up bayoneting an english guy for Uncle Sam in World War III. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 5:40 PM
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If you've seen that movie 'Go', the english character Simon would be a pretty good estimation of what I was like a few years ago. Except I didn't shoot anyone. . .

. . .or have sex with two coked-up whores at the same time while the curtains of my motel room were on fire.

. . .or steal a guy's Ferrari and take it to a strip club for a $100 lap dance.

What have I been doing with my life??

thus spake The Englishman at 5:32 PM
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It's funny - when I started this blog, I figured, I'd have loads of interesting 'Englishman in a typically American situation' type japes and stories to tell you about. But now I think I blend in completely; noone even notices the little brit-ness I have left.

I have become a cultural chameleon.

thus spake The Englishman at 5:29 PM
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Friday, January 9

I got my first 'Attaboy' at my new job today.

Now I know how a good doggie feels. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 7:17 PM
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Wail to the King, baby.

thus spake The Englishman at 5:29 PM
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This was an interesting little nugget from Reuters.com. The article highlights the importance US politicians place on religion in contrast to their Euro counterparts.

Honestly, I don't want to say one way or another which approach is right - politicians, like marketers, ask only one question: "what do they want me to say?".

But I will say this: when in the history of politics can you point to a beneficial outcome,or even a civil negotiation, for all parties where someone has said "God is on my side"?

thus spake The Englishman at 2:45 PM
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In my household, politically-speaking , a lot has been going on recently.

Dean is being lambasted by the other candidates for being a butt-licking turn-coat over his cynicism of the Iowa caucuses, and for his praise of Dubya in 2000. Looks like I might have to eat some humble cake over my positive comments of him earlier. . .pass the salt. . .

M took an online candidate matchup test, which came up with her favouring Clark, and she had some good points about Dean that made me think thrice - it's a worrying trend that the dude has said things a few years back that contradicts what his stances are today. He also seems to be having difficulty taking a firm stance on anything. . .of course, all the other front-runner candidates have been quick to pounce on the pack leader's perceived weakness, and in the end I just feel sick to my stomach.

Just a little while ago, I was sure about who should be the next Prez, but now I'm wondering why we bother at all. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 1:50 PM
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Thursday, January 8

This is one of the most entertaining and true-to-life flash shorts ever made. I've worked for these people. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 5:05 PM
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Tuesday, January 6

Does anyone else find it irritating that blogs list the most recent entry first? I feel like you late arrivals are missing out on the continuity that is expertly and lovingly woven between each of these posts. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 4:04 PM
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I got in touch with my best friend from high school today, to invite him to my wedding reception.

"Hi!", he said. "I'd like to come, but I'm leaving my job and selling everything I own to go travelling."

"I'll see you there", I said.

thus spake The Englishman at 4:00 PM
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Monday, January 5

. . .I've got it.

The movie had no loss. Any of you remember the teaser trailers for this? The slogan ran along the lines of "There can be no victory without loss. . .there can be no triumph without sacrifice.", etc. interspersed with some really moving scenes of anguish and bravery. The true stem of my excitement was to see which of my heroes would have the grit and courage to sacrifice their lives to give the little halflings that extra slim chance of success.

In the end, **SPOILER ALERT** everyone gets out of Armageddon on Middle-Earth without a scratch. Honestly, the only characters that died were Gollum (and who misses him? ), and the King of Rohan. Who was a guy called Bernard. How can we the audience truly feel the emotional highs of our heroes' victories if we never taste the despair of their defeats?

I can't level this criticism at Peter Jackson, though. Pete is a man who for the last 4 years has been dangling his balls over a razor wire of criticism and expectations, a wire strung up by 'Rings geeks champing at the bit to pounce on him for this skipped part and that altered dialogue. No doubt, the man's remains would be scattered to the four corners of the earth if harm were to come to a single one of Legolas' goldilocks.

Which brings me to the question. Having never read the books, does this mean that the ending is the same in Tolkien's tomes? Why wouldn't a man of his storytelling subtlety realize that the price of victory against such malevolent and overwhelming odds be the blood of the valiant?

Answers in 3000 words or less, double-spaced, 12 point font by tomorrow, please class. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 7:45 PM
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. . .which reminds me - am I the only one who thought there was something. . .missing in Lord of the Rings: Return of the King? I can't quite put my finger on it, but there was definitely something off about it compared to the Two Towers.

Maybe I succumbed to the hype. Then, maybe it was the fact that we'd already seen the wide, panning shots of thousands of Orcs in full armor charging at a battered city, while a desperate few held them off with everything they had. I shall meditate on this awhile.

Hats off to Legolas for 'Most stylish kill in a movie trilogy'. I think they might actually have to invent a new Oscar category for that one. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 5:15 PM
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For some reason, I've been obsessed with this new movie Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. . .ahem. . .

The trailer was bundled with the Return of the King in theaters. Something about it made me tingle - perhaps it was the notion of rip-roaring, propeller-powered mano-a-mano dogfights in the canyons of a 1950's citscape against skyscraper-sized Gigantor lookalikes. . .

I'm a simple man, I like simple things.

thus spake The Englishman at 5:11 PM
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Anyone know an immigration lawyer who can spell worth a damn?

thus spake The Englishman at 11:40 AM
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Friday, January 2

Inside the mind of a surgeon:

"Now, do I go for the deep ventral cut near the Latisimus Dorsai, or do I go for a lateral subcutaneous cut?

. . .incisions, incisions. . ."

thus spake The Englishman at 11:54 PM
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My best friend, let's call him 'Drinman' has what some might think is the nerdiest hobby ever. He composes away messages for use when he's online with AOL Instant Messenger. I advise you to hesitate before mocking him, however. They're really fucking good - the man has an economy with words that provokes and yet keeps you just at arm's length from understanding.

. . .and he just loves it if they piss you off. . .

Once, when we were bemoaning the exertions of long distance travel, he and I had a bet that I lived farther away from Boston in London, England than he did. It was not long after I decided upon a $100 stake with much taunting and bravado, than I realized he was from Ketchikan, Alaska - possibly the furthest you could get away from Boston on a continent that was stretched around a quarter of the Earth's girth. Motherfucker beat me by 150 miles.

I get my revenge each christmas though - I at least can get a direct flight with a major and reliable airline. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 2:35 PM
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waiting for inspiration to strike. . .

thus spake The Englishman at 2:33 PM
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An Englishman in New England

Work like no-one's watching, dance like you don't need the money, and hurt like you've never been loved.

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