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.
All About The Englishman
Things fall apart. The center cannot hold.
Change your perceptions. They're lame.
I have a dream.
I am Jack's imaginary friend
Don't think. Just Grow.
For all your multimedia needs
Rehabilitating Mr. Wiggles
Hey! You make me throw up a little!
The Framley Examiner Personals
From the creator of 'Grow'
Fura Neko games!
This man is everything I hope to be, artistically
Tokyo Plastic 2.0h!
I love free speech. Talk to me.
Belle De Jour
C h a p e l . P e r i l o u s
Another Girl, Another Planet
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 reelPussy Perspectives
The Laid List
Liquored Up and Lookin' Fer Pussy
The Office and David Carradine
A Wee Turtle's Head
The Illusion of Time
Born To Run
Fiendster: The Anti-Friendster
Crusoe and the INS
Smile for me, Mona
Spin the bullet bachelor party
Spin the bullet part II
Heaven and Home
Heal the world
Atom Feed me, Seymour
~ Powered By ~
Get away, you filthy urchin, lest my cane find your crap-smeared buttocks!
Part 2: Things I Don't Miss About England
Oooh, he's a spiky little immigrant isn't he?
And now it's time for the obligatory Foreigner's Rant Because I'm Cranky And Want To Leave Work Early. Things I miss about England:
Wednesday, February 25
I'll be the sweetest 5 minutes you've ever had
So yes, after a short hiatus, accompanied by an equally-brief flirtation with life as a fictitious writer, I have returned, married, exhausted and smiling.
Tuesday, February 24
And for those who thought he might not be crazy:
"I have tried to write the fragments of a comic story about a boy who decides to observe himself, distinctly grading and catergorising his moods and dispositions and tabulating them on graphs and charts in order that - when he is asked how he is - he can simply spread out the sheets and point to the oscillating graphs like a periodic table. It is an ironic phatic question of course; not in some mouths but in the vast majority." ~ B.A.
She was radiant - a flowing white dress, and holding the deepest red roses I'd ever seen. Tradition, and the gentle lilt of Pachabel, were thrown to the wind; we locked eyes from opposite ends of the aisle, and she came to meet me in a barely-suppressed run. Her mother tried but ultimately failed to keep up.
Monday, February 23
Lazily, almost seductively, he slid the gleaming round into the chamber, and slapped the drum. It whizzed as it spun, and I started slightly as, with a neat flick of the wrist, he slammed it home, and raised the gun to a spot right between my eyes. Straining at the garden hose that bound my hands and feet, and painfully aware of the welts it had left across my back from the relentless beating I had just endured, I began to sweat even more than before.
Thursday, February 19
I like lists. Here's an interesting one.
That tort him a lesson.
Interesting fact that powerful people don't want you to know # 92:
Tonight I have my bachelor party, but I have no idea where it will be, or who will be there. My groomsmen are picking me up at 5pm from my workplace, and from then on, I am in their sweaty, callused hands for the night. My brother and my uncle will also be in attendance, as well as an 8lb bag of cocaine, 12 feet of garden hose, a wooden goose, and a revolver with one bullet in it.
Reap the whirlwind, you bastard.
A Token Effort
There's really something to be said for coming into work when your mind couldn't be further from it.
Wednesday, February 18
The Samsonite Saga (as it shall henceforth be known) started my mind free-associating this morning while I was on the can. It went frolicking this way and that in the cosmos of my mental universe, careening into the time I shit my pants on a school field trip, rebounding off my first kiss, orbiting my cluster of college crushes, and finally coming to rest on my first year of primary school.
Tuesday, February 17
For some reason, when I get to my computer in the morning, I instinctively check my own blog, thinking "I wonder what's on The Englishman today?".
A Ping and an Echo
Thanks to the wonders of the Technorati, I am aware that I have a small (but, as I like to imagine, fastidiously devoted, rapidly recruiting, and meticulously preparing for the coming apocalypse) audience out there - someone even linked their blog to me. . .
Question: How many accusations does it take before people begin to suspect that leaving little Jimmy at the Reverend's house for "Overnight Bible Study" might not be such a good idea?
Monday, February 16
Funny how when you're about to get married, everything becomes "the last thing you're ever going to do". . .but more on that another time, i.e. when I feel like expounding.
Friday, February 13
Whenever I meet someone not originally from the United States, I like to imagine asking them who they would fight for in the event that war breaks out between the U.S. and their place of origin.
Thursday, February 12
I do believe that was my first "Meta-Blog" (a blog entry about blogging). . .I'm really getting into this thing.
I spent a lot of time surfing the 'Blogosphere' today, and as a result of all the outstanding examples I've stumbled across, one thing has struck me - Seinfeld did not have to end.
I've been in the US for so long now that I feel completely ersatz whenever I encounter a 'real' English person.
"Soylent Green is people!"
Not so Happy Meal now, are ya?
It's all the rage in Japan. . .
This is the weirdest, but ultimately most satisfying quirky little game I've ever been a slave to.
Wednesday, February 11
Finding Emo (-tional comfort)
"Hang in there with the arrangements, and remember: Families are friends, not food" ~ an email from J
Tuesday, February 10
Perils of contact lenses # 171: The lens sometimes migrates to the back of your eyesocket, and sits there. . .magnifying your brain with every red, inflamed twitch of your irritated orbit.
One of the best blogs I've read is BelleDeJour - diary of an english call girl. It's not the nature of the topic that interests me so much as the light-hearted manner in which Belle approaches her work, and the seamless way in which it is weaved with her play.
On-tying the knot
I lied, I can't be bothered to flesh out the bullet points from my last post. I think it would actually be far more entertaining to allow the myriad of possibilities involving those potent ingredients take shape in the form of your own comments. Hint hint.
Friday, February 6
What a day - it's been one of those where so many quirky things happen, each of which you experience while thinking "this'll be great for my blog. . ."
Wednesday, February 4
If you've ever watched the highly-acclaimed documentary "Bowling for Columbine", you could be forgiven for thinking as a foreigner that all Americans young and old have at some point in their lives been riddled with bullets and left for dead - that something like this is a common occurrence, and it's almost like a right of passage;
"Martha's polishing the brass on the Titanic - it's all going down, man." ~ Tyler Durden
Tuesday, February 3
Tom Daschle is putting together quite an impressive list of credentials - in the last couple of years the man has already managed to survive Anthrax, and now Ricin being liberally (no pun intended, I promise) sprinkled around his office on Capitol Hill.
The Englishman's Favorite Janet Jackson Headlines:
What's the FCC's problem? She's hot!
*Doot doot doot!* Yo, some dude just wrapped his car around a tree! What should I do?
Monday, February 2
Fuck, I think I'm going through my period - I'm being so bitchy lately.
What a great weekend it was. M and I took in a bunch of movies, that (gasp!) she and I could both stand to watch, and although her opinions would most probably differ, I thoroughly enjoyed them.