An Englishman in New England

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


Be informed
Be entertained
Be perverted
Confess, sinner
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
Filthy Lies
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.


December 2003
January 2004
February 2004
March 2004
April 2004
May 2004
June 2004
July 2004
August 2004
December 2004
March 2005


Belle De Jour
C h a p e l . P e r i l o u s
Another Girl, Another Planet
Robber Rabbit

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
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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Saturday, March 20

I frequently dream of heroes.

Of being them, of seeing them, of knowing that they exist. They live a life of watchfulness, like shepherds, over the flock that we've become.

We don't know that they're there. The papers never print stories about their work; the countless disasters that are averted, the foiled plans and captives lifted from the clutches of those who would do them harm.

They work among us, unnoticed, and their power is measured not in tonnes, or miles, but in centimeters, grams, split-seconds. They fight impossible odds day after day, fucking sacrifice everything for every last increment of time and space, so that for those times when you step into traffic without looking, or are being followed late at night, you have a chance to make it home.

Sometimes they win, and other times they unwillingly must let you go. Still other times, they need your help. You will never suspect it before and after that fleeting moment when you are their instrument of good. But when they choose you, when you're in the right place at the right time, and worthy of their strength and courage, you are the savior of someone's life.

Without you, people you have never known would not live today.