Category Archives: Normal Life

The White Stuff

The white stuff.

Bet your thinking “another post about clone sex/auto-fellatio/great arcing ropes of jism/etc” aren’t you?

Ah, memories!

Well, I hate to disappoint but, just for a change, I’m talking about the other white stuff…

That’s right cocai- No, not fucking cocaine. Who said that?

Snow, I’m talking about snow. Good old-fashioned glistening, wet and white snow (does sound sexy when I put it like that doesn’t it?), and what a bunch of it we’ve had.

It’s crazy though. I’m sure I’m not the only sad case blogging about it, but what the fuck is up with the council? Fucking, once a fucking year it’s like this..if that! Once a fucking year the place comes to a standstill and folk hit the panic button.*

We’ve had a healthy dose of snow over the last few days but cars are still driving, the sun is still rising (allegedly) but folks just can’t handle it. A few towns over from me they’ve run out of milk and bread.

The entire town!

No milk!

No bread!

“It’s the apocalypse!” Fucking morons – and that’s offensive to morons**

Mushroom cloud

A mushroom snow cloud. Signalling the End of Days (if you live in Cowdenbeath)

Anyway, enough bitching. This post is about photos.

SNOW! Good God y’all. What’s it any good for? Going fucking sledging!

Yes, sledging. Awesome fun. You are never too old, unless your 90 (and dying painfully of hypothermia, scrabbling around on all fours, like a dog, looking for a hole to crawl into and expire).

Took the boys down the park on the first day of the snow (Sunday the 28th November for my bit of the world) for an epic sledging adventure.

As expected though, the snow was threadbare like a badly laid carpet covered in the BFG’s dandruff.

What's left of his hair is supposed to be black. Fuckin' manky all that dandruff. Have a wash you big bastard.

Still, the boys had a laugh and I took a dose of photos.

What a Face!

"To winter's chilly touch doth golden autumn yield"

Surfin' the Snow

We only lasted about an hour as it was baltic and the boys were a bit too wet to be hanging about in the freezing cold.

As I was wrangling them up Charlie says to me

“Dad, can I go through your legs?”

“Aye, sure son.”

“Cool.” he says with a mischievous little laugh that I took for excitement more than anything else.

So up the skate ramp he goes (for that, dear friends, is the death trap we were using to get the most speed and exhilaration – as I said before:  carpet/dandruff/BFG/threadbare) and gets ready. I, meanwhile, pass the camera to Jamie’s pal and tell him to take a photo of Charlie motoring on through between my open legs in his sled.

Moments later he is building to warp speed, down the ramp, heading straight for me and the gap between my legs.

Closer.

Closer.

Time seems to slow down as the sled and Charlie, giggling like a schoolgirl, hurtle towards me. I prepare myself to guide him through so that no injury occurs. The nose of his sled crosses the threshold betwixt my stems of ambulation and then…

CRUNCH! A tiny fist. right in the fucking bullets!

Right in the Bullets

Little fucker!

Telling you I’d have ripped him a new one if I hadn’t been laugh-weeping at his audacity and forward planning.

Nicely played, son. Nicely played.

Malc

*Well all apart from the one guy I saw out cleaning the snow of his and his neighbours (plural) cars at 07:50 this morning. He was dressed for it wearing a woollen tammy on his head along with a brown cosy looking dressing gown, green wellies and pink marigolds. Not a fucking joke either – wish I had had my camera with me.

**I wanted to use the word retard here but I felt that that was too…too…retro. Yes, too retro.

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Photos by the Boy

Just posted a couple of photos to flickr.

Here is original jpg from the panorama I took of my LSD bathroom:

Magic Eye Wallpaper (Pano)

Arrrgh, my eyes!

Crazy fucked up that is.

But these two Lego Star Wars numbers were taken by the wee boy (though I did the processing).

He was on about taking some photos for ages and then went and got the DSLR. He wouldn’t let me set up a stage though so took the photos while playing with the toys. Still, they look not bad at all.

Chopped

I chopped 'is little fackin' 'ead orf

and

No, no, no, no! How do I turn this thing off?!?!

No, no, no! How do I turn this thing off?!?!
First TK422, then those poor droids and now...now...Woody! Nooooooooo!

Nice to encourage them and get them into photography (as long as he doesn’t start to outshine me!)

Malc

Mien Eyes, Ze Goggles…Zey Do Nothing!

Right.

So, I moved house last month.

After 7 years, in our 2 storey end-terraced 1st floor flat with our two boys, me and the missus took the step up to a bigger and better abode.

We now live in a 2 storey semi-detached house with it’s own garden and everything.

Moving day was a hoot.

I hired a Luton van and roped in my three pals:-

stooges

I can't tell from the meter whether the tank is half full or half empty@

The Woodpecker*, The Pirate**and Wildman***(poker names I hasten to add not those they were given at birth – though I’d love to meet the parents that name their child “The Pirate”).

It took us a good few hours and a number of trips in the van to get fully moved and by the end of it my buddies were fucked…with a capital…

It was pretty funny to watch.

How The Pirate‘s skin started to sallow and he faltered on his feet once or twice. I almost reached the stage with him that I was ready to break out the pool cues and slap some Queen on the radio.

How The Woodpecker went from eager, burly and jovial to slow, recalcitrant and near-grief stricken and so tired he went to sleep about 20 minutes after finishing (the biggest pussy).

How Wildman… Actually, he was the best of them, strong to the finish and keen to help out more.

It was my fault really, well not all my fault but mostly.

I have this thing, you see, where, when I am working, I have a need to just “get the job done”. I don’t like to stop when I’m into the task at hand, it makes me extremely reluctant to carry on again after stopping.

In my view, when I’m stopped, I’m stopped. Full Stop.

So, I pushed and I pushed and we got the job done in less hours than it should’ve taken with only a 20 minute break for the lads to get a bite to eat (I ate while continuing to work).

Anyway, the job was done and my slave-driving resulted in my poker name being changed from Bungie to The Cunt. Well, that’s what they were calling me at the end – I presume it’s my new poker name.

duckhunt1.jpg

C'mon, you can work this one out.

So, the house. The house is good ‘un.

Very big inside and needs a great deal of work, some of which has been carried out but still more to go…and I am one lazy bastard so it will take a while.

The old woman who vacated the premises, though, had very peculiar tastes indeed.

For example, I now lovingly refer to the house as “The House of A Million Hooks” as, and I’m not kidding. There are fucking hooks EV-AR-EE-WHERE.

Picture hooks, coat hooks, key hooks, Cap’n Hooks, the lot. There is even a hook on the underside of the top stair of the staircase! I mean…WTF? You can’t even reach it.

And the pièce de résistance…?

This “marvel”:

Click it to get a little virtual tour. Go on, you know you want to and I did put the effort in to get it at eye height if I was on the toilet.

It’s like a fucking magic eye picture.

Not kidding, every time I go to the bathroom I feel like I’m going to have a stroke (and to be honest most of the time I do but I was referring to the debilitating kind to start with not the “good” kind).

Still, I suppose it adds, ahem, character.

Malc

*The Woodpecker. Stevie. He used to be one of my band minions now he just cheats at poker.

**The Pirate. Mark. Introduced the rest of us to the work of the Junior Bros: Robert Downey and Cuba Gooding. It’s almost genius in it’s craziness.

***Wildman. Stuart. Mark’s brother and fat man in a not so fat man’s body. Fucker eats like he’s pregnant (with twins like the Junior Bros.)

Return of the Japs Eye*

At last! At last!

I have returned to the land of computers.

After a month and a bit sans processing power and the ability to “do my photies” I have successfully acquired a suitable user input device to allow me to surf the Webs of Inter and type shite like this.

2 days prior to Hallowe’en I got myself a MacBook Pro 13″ and it’s fucking quality.

Um, excuse me. Your insides are showing

I’d never had a Mac before. I had used one a few times and even tried hackintosh on my pc but, after playing around with it, found it had no real advantage over my Windows set up with all my apps installed.

However, I was keen to get one this time and so I did. I thought that I might end up putting Windows 7 on it and using it as a Windows laptop but, in the end, the reverse of the previous paragraph occurred. I put Win7 on, used it for a little bit and found it provided no real advantage to my new OS X with all my apps installed.

Weird, eh? Well maybe not.

So, I’m back in the land of couch-lock**, bad posture and RSI.

Huzzah!

With no excuse to stop me taking photographs now I plan to get back on the case. I’ve already taken one image this past week, of a certain room within my new house, but more of that in a later post.

For now, I’ve transferred photos that were stuck in my cameras SD card and processed but one. It’s just a quick shot of the boy in the bath, cropped and textured for atmosphere.

Wash (click through for Flickr)

Well aware, I am, that funny this blog post is not but, as a wise man once said to me:

“Can you make a candle out of your own earwax?”

Well, can you? Exactly.

Malc


*Aye, aye. I know. There is no real reason to have such a title as it has no relevance to the text. I just wanted a funny Star Wars related title…and that was the best I could come up with at short notice.

It was either the above or “Episode 4: A New Hip” which makes even less sense.

 

**well not really couch-lock as many understand it but, rather, being sat on the couch not moving much, for hours, looking at a screen and remaining as uncommunicative as a corpse. You know what I’m on about.

Slight Return

Well, it’s been a while since I was last here. Don’t know why really, just busy with other things. Other things, I may add, which have been quite mundane – don’t think I’ve got a single funny story!

Or do I…….?

Nope, I don’t.

I suppose I could reveal some snippets of information in bullet point kind of form, in order to get me back into the swing of writing shit down on this ‘ere blog.

Let me see.

1. I had a vasectomy towards the end of August!

Got to tell you it’s the easiest thing in the world. The biggest problem came when the surgeon, in a huff, had to phone 4 or 5 other nurses on their days off to come in and help manoeuvre my massive cock out of the way so he could work. I made a big deal of apologising but insisted that there was a danger of death by fox if I didn’t bring him along.

Other than that, it was a fucking breeze.

I even got to watch the operation. He cut a little hole in my nutsack and pulled through the Vas Deferns tube. With a flick of his wrist he sliced a bit of tube out with his scalpel. Easy-peasy. The bit he cut out looked a bit like the just cooked Cheesy Pasta (before you add the powdered sauce mix)- I forgot to ask to keep it.

Cheesey Pasta

A box filled with the discarded snippets of Vas Deferns of a million men. All for 79p with cheesey sauce powder thrown in for free.

The only other interesting bit about the operation is getting told to spunk in a cup after 16 weeks and the murder of 24 salvos of innocent babies. I waited just 11 hours to “batter” off the first salvo (really like that term: salvo. It’s got a real ring to it).

Little bruising, no pain, a little discomfort in bending down for about 4 days and that’s fucking it. Like i said, easiest thing I’ve ever done – you “blokes” who are afraid or say it’s painful…yer all fuckin’ pussies.

Pussies

Take your pick you so called

Actually, that’s another thing – why call it the “snip” when I clearly saw the surgeon perform a “slicing” move? I decree that heretoforthwiththereafter that the common name for a vasectomy shall be “The Slice”.

What else?

Oh, yeah.

2. Turned my Clone Saga epic into a little book (buy here if interested).

The cover of the most awesome book ever printed.

and a view of the inside of the most awesome book ever printed.

As Steve Jobs would say “It’s pretty cool”.

3. Received training in Disaster Victim Identification (DVI).

Apparently high fiving a fragmented corpse is a no-no and they suggest that I cease doing the same with “normal” corpses. Whut-eva.

Me giving a cadaver a high five.
(not really you crazy bastards, I'd get the sack publishing such a photo)

And,

4. I made a new bit of art.

This is actually an early version - couldn

Not my usual style but I likes it a lot. Even use it as my iPhone wallpaper. It’s called “Impelial Japonhees Navy” – yes, yes I know “casually racist” but since there is no IJN anymore I think I can get away with it.

I made it after making this picture of Isoroku Yamamoto:

Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto - strong with the Force is he.

to use as my avatar on twitter after I had been overcome by the Force Ghost of the man. He’s since left my mortal coil and I am back to {Banzaaaiiii!!} normal.*

Think that’s about it, really. Pretty poor couple of weeks, eh?

I have an input to give to a bunch of pro & amateur photographers in November so I am going to make an effort to go out and do more photo stuff myself. I will, of course, reflect these ventures in this ‘ere blog. Probably.

Now, I’m off to complete salvo #32 towards eventual sterility. I know it’s only 24 that are needed but I like the practice.

Malc

One, more thing (also something Steve Jobs would say). My laptop has died. It’s been sputtering along on it’s last legs for about a year and a half. I’ve had to open it up on a few occasions and replaced dead parts with bits scavenged from other machines (I’m actually shocked it worked at all after that) but now it is finally dead.

This makes me very sad. Very sad indeed. Specially since I have not the funds to buy a new one. So, any updates to my blog will come from my iPhone or the wifes netbook. However, should you wish to assist with funds to replace my dead laptop with a new MacBook Pro (just the 13″ screen will do) please contact me via the comments box and I’ll get back to you with details on where to send your cheque. Thanks.

Malc

*Don’t ask, if you don’t follow me in twitter then you missed all the fun.

Wheel, Wheel. He Finally Did It!

A different kind of post today.

After almost an entire year of having his bike the wee lad, finally, has learned to go it without stabilisers.

He’s only “ridden” the thing about 3 times since we bought it last year. Turned out, even after trying him on it at the store, the thing was a bit too big and heavy for him to manage.

Being highly adept at turning my hand to new skills and not fearing anything, except “…not being there!”, I figured he’d be like me and just sit on it and go.

Da  Bodyguard

Costner "being there" to save Whitney from the animal fists of Bobby-to-the-Brown. Pity he wasn't there to save her from skanking out on the junk. Still 1 out of 2 isn't bad.

Alas, it was not to be.

Bought stabilisers for it and took him out. Boy was terrified! Would cycle no more than, say 1 mph, and swaying horrendously to one side only to over-compensate and bounce to the other side with a wail of terror.

Today, though, we decided to take him down the park for one last attempt before just selling the bike to Big Mike – an Oopma Loompa we know that lives down the road from us – and be done with it.

Lo and behold, 2 exhausting hours later (well, exhausting for me anyway as the missus just sat under a tree playing Scrabble on her DS Lite while I kept up a steady run behind the bike, lying to the boy saying: “Yes, I’m still holding on,” *puff, pant* “just keep pedalling!”) he doth cycle.

Result.

And all it took was a promise of a new toy if he did the deed.

So, I may be £12 out of pocket but at least I can walk down the street, head held high. No more embarrassed excuse making when folks with kids 3 years younger than mine say “Sorry? He can’t ride a bike?” and stifle a laugh.

Fuck you people like I just described in the above paragraph which preceded this sentence. Fuck you.

Yeah, fucking Horatio has my back!

Malc