Wednesday, 22 December 2010
Wednesday, 15 December 2010
Old Man Byrch
There was once a man that lived in a dark, dingy wood named Byrch. Byrch was an old, frail man with a skinny posture and looked like he would snap at any point. He had a pointed chin and a nose equally sharp and long with a thinning grey beard that elongated his already stretched face.
Byrch was a fan of the band "Tenacious D". He had all of their albums, a signed poster sitting on the wall in his bedroom and often spent his days tucked away watching the movie "The Pick of Destiny". The great thing about Byrch living in such an isolated location was that he could play his music as loud as he wanted and nobody would question it.
One day, while casually channel surfing, Byrch saw an advert on Kerrang. An advert that made his heart skip a beat and he almost soiled his already relatively dirty underwear. Tenacious D were going to playing live in the town local to his home in the woods. When the advert came to an end Byrch immediately thought to himself "I have to get tickets!". But how? He was far too old to walk to the nearest ticket station and he didn't have a telephone nor the internet.
Downhearted at the thought that he may possibly miss the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Byrch went to bed. As he lay there he started to think through possibilites as to how he was going to get himself the ticket. He thought if he woke early enough he could catch the postman and ask him if he could possibly collect them for him if he gave the money to him. But Byrch had gotten very mistrusting in his old age, so much so he deduced that he would rather miss the concert than lose £25 to a postman with a pony tail and stupid earring. So once again, Byrch started to think.
As he was about to give up he looked out of his window and saw a cat perched in a looming tree, its shadow dancing on his bedroom floor, darkened by the moonlight. Byrch's mouth suddenly went dry, for now he had a plan.
He struggled out of bed and hobbled to the kitchen, where he got some bread, paper, a pen and string. He settled the bread on the doorstep and watched as the cat with the dancing shadow slowly creeped up and began to feast. Byrch knew cats were as untrusting as himself, so with surgical precision and caution he approached it. The cat began to move away and Byrch stopped, throwing more bread. The cat remained and Byrch continued to walk forward. As he drew closer he stretched out his arms and tied a note around the cats neck, a note requesting a ticket to be delivered to his home and he went pay extra for delivery charge and for the ticket itself on the day of arrival.
The cat looked up at Byrch and began to try to sniff the foreign object placed around its neck. Byrch punched the cat in the head, he knew that the cat would learn playing with the note was bad if it got hurt when doing so. The cat, clearly furious at the blow it had recieved, ran away.
Byrch then struggled back up the long, wooden staircase and climbed back into his bed with rusted springs, confident that when he woke, there would be a delivery of a Tenacious D ticket.
But when Byrch woke the next morning there was no ticket. As he moved painfully into his kitchen he noticed the window was open and all of his food from his fridge and cupboards had been taken out and torn open and devoured. Furious at the thought of a filthy racoon or fox in his home, Byrch began to clean. The realisation of not having Tenacious D tickets yet dawned on him and he has solemnly in his recliner, watching The Pick of Destiny.
The next morning Byrch was sure he would have a delivery, but no, instead he went into the kitchen and just like the night before all of the contents of his food storage had been taken out and devoured. Furious again Byrch began to clean, muttering curses as he did. This strange activity contuined over the next 4 nights and on the 5th morning Byrch had decided that he wasn't going to stand for it anymore and he knew what he must do. That night he went up to bed, but he went with no intention of sleeping. He lay there, hoping to hear his intruder. But he heard nothing. He waited for what seemed like the whole night and not a sound came from any part of the house. Byrch decided that the intruder had given up coming to his home and had found another source of food. And just as he was about to close his eyes to rest he had scratching coming from down the stairs. Silently, he rose out of his bed and began to make his way down. He peered around the doorway into the kitchen and was surprised to see what was infront of him. Cats. At least 15 of them, all there eating away at his food. He rushed into them to try to get them away and as he did, his mind acted before his body, this caused him to fall over. He began to fall, directly into the centre of the crowd of cats and as he did he braced himself for the impact of his face and the floor.
But it did not come, he opened his left eye and he saw the floor, inches away from his long pointed nose. But he was hovering above it. Was he dreaming? Had he dozed off and was now in a bizarre, faux world? He looked beneath him and saw the cats had gathered and caught him, stopping his fall. They all moved in unison and carried him out of the kitchen, out of the house and out of the wood. They carried him all the way to the local ticket station where they waited with him til sunrise. Byrch could not believe it, he was so far from home but he had done it! He had got to the local town and got tickets for Tenacious D! "Fuck yeah" he muttered as he lay on the moving carpet of cats as they carried him home.
The day of the concert had arrived and Byrch had got out his best suit, ironed it and wore his favourite cologne in the hope to impress the young, fine ladies there. Still feeling smug about his victory of apprehending the tickets Byrch watched The Pick of Destiny during the day. But then as 6 o'clock loomed nearer, Byrch realised, he had no way of getting to see them play! He would wait for the cats, he thought to himself. But they did not come in the day, only at night. Byrch was upset. So much so he cried. All the effort of obtaining a ticket, wasted. Byrch decided he would try to walk the distance, even though he knew he would not make it, he thought it he would die trying. He set off. He got out of his house and began walking the the now dark, damp wood. His legs were already tired so he whistled for a cab and when it came near the license plate said 'fresh' and it had a dice in the mirror, if anything Byrch could say this cab was rare...
Byrch was a fan of the band "Tenacious D". He had all of their albums, a signed poster sitting on the wall in his bedroom and often spent his days tucked away watching the movie "The Pick of Destiny". The great thing about Byrch living in such an isolated location was that he could play his music as loud as he wanted and nobody would question it.
One day, while casually channel surfing, Byrch saw an advert on Kerrang. An advert that made his heart skip a beat and he almost soiled his already relatively dirty underwear. Tenacious D were going to playing live in the town local to his home in the woods. When the advert came to an end Byrch immediately thought to himself "I have to get tickets!". But how? He was far too old to walk to the nearest ticket station and he didn't have a telephone nor the internet.
Downhearted at the thought that he may possibly miss the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Byrch went to bed. As he lay there he started to think through possibilites as to how he was going to get himself the ticket. He thought if he woke early enough he could catch the postman and ask him if he could possibly collect them for him if he gave the money to him. But Byrch had gotten very mistrusting in his old age, so much so he deduced that he would rather miss the concert than lose £25 to a postman with a pony tail and stupid earring. So once again, Byrch started to think.
As he was about to give up he looked out of his window and saw a cat perched in a looming tree, its shadow dancing on his bedroom floor, darkened by the moonlight. Byrch's mouth suddenly went dry, for now he had a plan.
He struggled out of bed and hobbled to the kitchen, where he got some bread, paper, a pen and string. He settled the bread on the doorstep and watched as the cat with the dancing shadow slowly creeped up and began to feast. Byrch knew cats were as untrusting as himself, so with surgical precision and caution he approached it. The cat began to move away and Byrch stopped, throwing more bread. The cat remained and Byrch continued to walk forward. As he drew closer he stretched out his arms and tied a note around the cats neck, a note requesting a ticket to be delivered to his home and he went pay extra for delivery charge and for the ticket itself on the day of arrival.
The cat looked up at Byrch and began to try to sniff the foreign object placed around its neck. Byrch punched the cat in the head, he knew that the cat would learn playing with the note was bad if it got hurt when doing so. The cat, clearly furious at the blow it had recieved, ran away.
Byrch then struggled back up the long, wooden staircase and climbed back into his bed with rusted springs, confident that when he woke, there would be a delivery of a Tenacious D ticket.
But when Byrch woke the next morning there was no ticket. As he moved painfully into his kitchen he noticed the window was open and all of his food from his fridge and cupboards had been taken out and torn open and devoured. Furious at the thought of a filthy racoon or fox in his home, Byrch began to clean. The realisation of not having Tenacious D tickets yet dawned on him and he has solemnly in his recliner, watching The Pick of Destiny.
The next morning Byrch was sure he would have a delivery, but no, instead he went into the kitchen and just like the night before all of the contents of his food storage had been taken out and devoured. Furious again Byrch began to clean, muttering curses as he did. This strange activity contuined over the next 4 nights and on the 5th morning Byrch had decided that he wasn't going to stand for it anymore and he knew what he must do. That night he went up to bed, but he went with no intention of sleeping. He lay there, hoping to hear his intruder. But he heard nothing. He waited for what seemed like the whole night and not a sound came from any part of the house. Byrch decided that the intruder had given up coming to his home and had found another source of food. And just as he was about to close his eyes to rest he had scratching coming from down the stairs. Silently, he rose out of his bed and began to make his way down. He peered around the doorway into the kitchen and was surprised to see what was infront of him. Cats. At least 15 of them, all there eating away at his food. He rushed into them to try to get them away and as he did, his mind acted before his body, this caused him to fall over. He began to fall, directly into the centre of the crowd of cats and as he did he braced himself for the impact of his face and the floor.
But it did not come, he opened his left eye and he saw the floor, inches away from his long pointed nose. But he was hovering above it. Was he dreaming? Had he dozed off and was now in a bizarre, faux world? He looked beneath him and saw the cats had gathered and caught him, stopping his fall. They all moved in unison and carried him out of the kitchen, out of the house and out of the wood. They carried him all the way to the local ticket station where they waited with him til sunrise. Byrch could not believe it, he was so far from home but he had done it! He had got to the local town and got tickets for Tenacious D! "Fuck yeah" he muttered as he lay on the moving carpet of cats as they carried him home.
The day of the concert had arrived and Byrch had got out his best suit, ironed it and wore his favourite cologne in the hope to impress the young, fine ladies there. Still feeling smug about his victory of apprehending the tickets Byrch watched The Pick of Destiny during the day. But then as 6 o'clock loomed nearer, Byrch realised, he had no way of getting to see them play! He would wait for the cats, he thought to himself. But they did not come in the day, only at night. Byrch was upset. So much so he cried. All the effort of obtaining a ticket, wasted. Byrch decided he would try to walk the distance, even though he knew he would not make it, he thought it he would die trying. He set off. He got out of his house and began walking the the now dark, damp wood. His legs were already tired so he whistled for a cab and when it came near the license plate said 'fresh' and it had a dice in the mirror, if anything Byrch could say this cab was rare...
Izrael, Alex the Cunning and Louis' Day Out.
So this one time, I met this guy called Izrael. Weird name, I know but he was a cool kid. He didn't look the part but I could sense it.
I introduced myself and we started to talk about our master plan for world domination. Izrael, or Izzy, as people that liked him called him decided that it would be a good idea to create baby vampires to take over the world and we could have an army of vampire killer babies to help us out.
I thought this idea was pretty good, but there were definite loopholes in the plan, the main flaw being the non-existance of vampires. So we put our heads together over a beer or 2 and decided the best thing to do would be to find a robot-cowboy-pirate-ninja-space-astronaut-secret-millionaire-super-agent-death-bringing-monkey to grant us 3 wishes and we would use the wishes to manipulate the world to however we wanted it, but we has conflicting ideas, I had ideas of myself being a big cool guy and Izzy just wanted peace, it was like Gryffindor vs. Slytherin all over again. We soon came to settle our differences by having world control alternating days of the week and we'd each have a different Sunday.
But what we didn't realise was that Alex (Alex the Cunning - to his enemies) had spiked our drinks with Dettol and Crack so me and Izzy were buzzing our tiny tits off singing to Abba and we forgot all about our plan of world domination and decided to rent a small shack in Bristol were we spend the weekends smoking weed out of an apple and playing darts with Ronan Keating (who, for the record, is a prick).
Alex the Cunning was as cunning as his name and decided he wanted to make plans for world domination himself so he went out and got himself a meatball Sub because he had himself some vouchers that came free with the Daily Mail and sat down with his drawing board. He came up with an amazing plot that would soon have the world trembling before him and he was sure of it.
His plan was to take over BBC and ITV and make all the cool characters like Rupert the Bear and Arthur evil mean bastards that didn't like candy floss, thus turning kids against the very idea of candy floss and making fun fairs candy floss-less. With the loss of candy floss on his side Alex the Cunning was so sure that nobody wanted to go to Campion Hills anymore when the fair was on because it wasn't the same without the sweet sugar treat and so the world became a dull, lifeless place. With the world miserable and said Alex the Cunning put his plan into motion, he started handing out Blue Smarties to minors if they helped him to subdue adults. The nippers were so hyperactive that they had the strength of an Ox on Red Bull so pinning down a few adults was like crushing a Twix with a clamp, fucking easy.
Before long Alex the Cunning had everyone doing as he wanted, everyone except to long lost abondoned heroes. The 2 resided in Bristol, and it was now up to them to save the world.
After hearing about the evil wanking plan, Izzy and I decided enough was enough and all this shit must be stopped, mainly because Ronan Keating had been dragged into Alex the Cunnings plan and we were getting fed up with eachother.
So we pulled up our socks and began working on our own plan to stop the ballbag.
"Why don't we just ask him to stop! That's the easiest thing to go" Izzy would say repeatedly whilst chowing down a cheese and onion pasty. That wouldn't work, Alex the Cunning was far too evil and cunning to do anything asked of him, but Izzy was just too nice for his own good and was determined to make his idea work.
I, on the other hand had a plan to get Michael Jordan to fold Alex the Cunning into a paper airplane and throw him to Jupiter where our Alien companions (the ones me and Izzy met last Thursday in Kelsey's) would probe him into next week and make him see he's super mean. That would surely teach him a lesson.
Izzy and myself decided to pack our bags and after confirming we had enough Maltesers, Lynx, Rammstein and Glitter for the journey, we set off to get the train which cost a whole £6.30 one-way, madness, I know. We began walking to Alex the Cunnings house, but not before stopping off at Vialli's because I had snorted too much glitter and was just tripping out so bad I needed some chips, cheese and a can of coke to straighten me out. Upon the arrival of Alex the Cunnings house we saw the big black beast he calls 'Spanner'. Spanner, or Hound from Hell as me and Izzy know him as, sensed our presence and began to breathe fire and shit baby ninja's to take us out. But we knew this was coming, for Dumbledore had taught us all we needed to know, and we simply said 'Spanner! Sit!' to which he sat and we continued on up the path.
Alex the Cunning had been expecting us, he sat stroking he facial hair and greeted us with a "ahhhh! What do you dickheads want!?", but before I could call Michael Jordan Izzy blurted out "Aleeeexxxx, stop being mean!"
To which Alex the Cunning replied, "okay, faggot." and we all went to Kelsey's and got drunk.
Alex the Cunning became pretty good friends with us from that point and we still hang out and stuff to this day.
Yay.
I introduced myself and we started to talk about our master plan for world domination. Izrael, or Izzy, as people that liked him called him decided that it would be a good idea to create baby vampires to take over the world and we could have an army of vampire killer babies to help us out.
I thought this idea was pretty good, but there were definite loopholes in the plan, the main flaw being the non-existance of vampires. So we put our heads together over a beer or 2 and decided the best thing to do would be to find a robot-cowboy-pirate-ninja-space-astronaut-secret-millionaire-super-agent-death-bringing-monkey to grant us 3 wishes and we would use the wishes to manipulate the world to however we wanted it, but we has conflicting ideas, I had ideas of myself being a big cool guy and Izzy just wanted peace, it was like Gryffindor vs. Slytherin all over again. We soon came to settle our differences by having world control alternating days of the week and we'd each have a different Sunday.
But what we didn't realise was that Alex (Alex the Cunning - to his enemies) had spiked our drinks with Dettol and Crack so me and Izzy were buzzing our tiny tits off singing to Abba and we forgot all about our plan of world domination and decided to rent a small shack in Bristol were we spend the weekends smoking weed out of an apple and playing darts with Ronan Keating (who, for the record, is a prick).
Alex the Cunning was as cunning as his name and decided he wanted to make plans for world domination himself so he went out and got himself a meatball Sub because he had himself some vouchers that came free with the Daily Mail and sat down with his drawing board. He came up with an amazing plot that would soon have the world trembling before him and he was sure of it.
His plan was to take over BBC and ITV and make all the cool characters like Rupert the Bear and Arthur evil mean bastards that didn't like candy floss, thus turning kids against the very idea of candy floss and making fun fairs candy floss-less. With the loss of candy floss on his side Alex the Cunning was so sure that nobody wanted to go to Campion Hills anymore when the fair was on because it wasn't the same without the sweet sugar treat and so the world became a dull, lifeless place. With the world miserable and said Alex the Cunning put his plan into motion, he started handing out Blue Smarties to minors if they helped him to subdue adults. The nippers were so hyperactive that they had the strength of an Ox on Red Bull so pinning down a few adults was like crushing a Twix with a clamp, fucking easy.
Before long Alex the Cunning had everyone doing as he wanted, everyone except to long lost abondoned heroes. The 2 resided in Bristol, and it was now up to them to save the world.
After hearing about the evil wanking plan, Izzy and I decided enough was enough and all this shit must be stopped, mainly because Ronan Keating had been dragged into Alex the Cunnings plan and we were getting fed up with eachother.
So we pulled up our socks and began working on our own plan to stop the ballbag.
"Why don't we just ask him to stop! That's the easiest thing to go" Izzy would say repeatedly whilst chowing down a cheese and onion pasty. That wouldn't work, Alex the Cunning was far too evil and cunning to do anything asked of him, but Izzy was just too nice for his own good and was determined to make his idea work.
I, on the other hand had a plan to get Michael Jordan to fold Alex the Cunning into a paper airplane and throw him to Jupiter where our Alien companions (the ones me and Izzy met last Thursday in Kelsey's) would probe him into next week and make him see he's super mean. That would surely teach him a lesson.
Izzy and myself decided to pack our bags and after confirming we had enough Maltesers, Lynx, Rammstein and Glitter for the journey, we set off to get the train which cost a whole £6.30 one-way, madness, I know. We began walking to Alex the Cunnings house, but not before stopping off at Vialli's because I had snorted too much glitter and was just tripping out so bad I needed some chips, cheese and a can of coke to straighten me out. Upon the arrival of Alex the Cunnings house we saw the big black beast he calls 'Spanner'. Spanner, or Hound from Hell as me and Izzy know him as, sensed our presence and began to breathe fire and shit baby ninja's to take us out. But we knew this was coming, for Dumbledore had taught us all we needed to know, and we simply said 'Spanner! Sit!' to which he sat and we continued on up the path.
Alex the Cunning had been expecting us, he sat stroking he facial hair and greeted us with a "ahhhh! What do you dickheads want!?", but before I could call Michael Jordan Izzy blurted out "Aleeeexxxx, stop being mean!"
To which Alex the Cunning replied, "okay, faggot." and we all went to Kelsey's and got drunk.
Alex the Cunning became pretty good friends with us from that point and we still hang out and stuff to this day.
Yay.
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