*Podwangler

Describing yourself is such a strange phenomenon. It's like the twat at a party or the friend of your Dad's who asks you as a greeting question, "So what do you do?" as though something as transient and meaningless as a job can somehow define your existence or at least downgrade it into the kind of digestible chunks that someone as lackwitted as that can comprehend, what with their own empty and pointless life being filled by work and nothing more. I always respond that I am a photographer, a songwriter, a poet, a writer, I collect Transformers, I watch insanely violent films, I like comedy that doesn't make other people laugh, I listen to music other people wouldn't think of as music, I take the piss out of the hopelessly shit and I play Battlefield 2. A lot. Mostly they then look all meek and say, "I meant for a living, what do you do for a living." Fuckers. I am a living contradiction - I am perpetually angry at the world, frustrated at the calcified nature of the Western world and its institutions, annoyed that the potential for serious change simply isn't there anymore, and pissed off at the innate mundanity and lack of interest in anything other than their own shit, tiny lives that pervades the mindset of most of humanity. Yet to talk to I am chatty and cheerful, and never stop actually talking unless someone holds my lips together until I pass out. I like the phrases "sex receptacle", "dog's cocks!" and the evergreen insult, "fucking anal fisting sore". Just because someone uses swearwords does not automatically mean that they are not eloquent, intelligent and witty. Using text speak in emails however defines you as slightly above the average land-based mollusc in terms of intelligence. I mean, seriously, how do you expect people to take you when your initial email says "hi how r u fort id drop u a msg and add u coz ur profile made me laff"? To me that translates roughly as "I am suffering from serious brain damage that was sadly caused by being repeatedly dropped on my head by similarly cerebrally challenged parents, and am unable to converse like real people, instead relying on a series of grunts and dribbles to communicate my intent to others." Come on, people, text speak looks shit, sounds appalling and makes you look like a retard. DON'T USE IT! To those cunts who get all hufty when they email me using text speak and I rag them about it mercilessly - Should've read my profile first, eh fuckers? I hate scratters. Teggers, chavs, call them what you like, but any set of cunts who wears sportswear and Burberry and hang about with tins of Special Brew asking people for 20p "for the bus, mate", never working, not because they can't get a job but because they are too fucking dumb to even understand what a job is (apart from burgling someone's house). Frankly these bastards have no redeeming feature save that they sometimes overdose on heroin or glue and die. Airy-fairy middle class people will tell you otherwise, but they don't have to live amongst this pile of stinking human wreckage, getting followed home by a gang of youths throwing rocks at them for no other reason than they walked near them wearing something other than fucking Kappa, having their car vandalised every few weeks just because it's there when they walk past it, or dreading bonfire night because they know that the evil little cunts find it amusing to stick bangers in cats' ears. They should all be lined up on the coast and bulldozed into the sea. I do arty stuff, but I am not an artist. I lack the necessary pretentiousness to validate what I do as art by giving each piece some expositional commentary that involves the phrases 'postmodern', 'ironic juxtaposition' or 'zeitgeist'. I just take pictures wot look real nice, and don't feel the need to dig up some overintellectualised bollocks to justify their existence. Here's a big secret; that kind of pretentious artiness is a cover for people who want to be artists but are actually more or less talentless. As long as you can waffle bullshit in a suitably intellectual way, you can give artistic credibility and validity to any old shit; say, for example, two halves of a cow hung in glass tanks, or blurry, poorly exposed grainy photographs of an AIDS sufferers right foot. It's a total Emperor's New Clothes thing whereby the waffle becomes the art, and the art itself becomes the meaningless trash that is nothing more than the vehicle for the waffle which attempts to justify its own existence .
My Gang
Fucking fabulous people, one and all. Don't read anything into the order, it is purely random. They are ALL ace.

Miranda

Strong, intelligent, beautiful, fiercely independant, creative and Bohemian, Miranda is one of those people who other people always remember as looking fabulous; even being a ginger doesn't go against her. Who'd have thought? After many nights supping on cheap white wine, we discovered that we were in fact very good friends, and a few months later, we fell blissfully in love and have been so ever since. She is my best friend and my lover.

Rachel Despite us having almost nothing in common (our tastes in music, films, TV, etc are very different) we get along very well and never seem short of anything to talk about, and she is providing me with an excellent newfound taste in cooking and in new and different types of food thanks to her wide repertoir of culinary delights! A happy and optimistic soul to counter my endless misanthropy.
Eddie
Eddie is one of the group of friends I met when I went back to college in my mid twenties, and was one of the earliest people to make it through the Evil Jamie Firewall on account of his inability to take himself or anything else remotely seriously. A musician, Eddie and I are currently collaborating on an album of tracks under the name 'Nickel Metal Hydride' (we were desperate for a name, and my endless stream of suggestions like "Neckfuckers", "Arse-shed and the Cuntloops" and "Shitly-cocked Men" were not going down too well, so the name came from a battery on my desk).

Claire

Claire is someone I had known of for years since college, yet had barely spoken much to (though she recalls my first words to her were along the lines of "Hello. Now fuck off.") In the last few months however we have found that we have a remarkable amount of stuff in common and have become very good friends. She likes Buffy (yaay), Heroes, and SO badly needs to see the new Battlestar Galactica. She hates getting beaten on Soulcalibur II by someone who has never even played the game before, especially when that person finds one move that works and just uses it over and over again...

Andy

Another chum from the days at Wilberforce College, Andy is another musician who is currently devoting time to his band Anal Log Congestion or something like that with his fab mates Jim and Bob, and who also does some very ace music on his own. Andy was too laid back to ever be hit square on by Evil Jamie, so he sort of limboed in under the Firewall. Another of those not-very-blokey-blokes who appear to be the only type I can actually get on with.

Lise

Lise was one of the first people I ever encountered in real life after meeting them on Myspace. It came as a rather astounding surprise that after weeks of emailing, it turned out she lives about a hundred feet from my front door and we could have saved wear on our fingers and just shouted to one another. Lise lives a double life; intellectual writer and thoughtful poet, but put her in company and it is entirely possible that her energy levels could solve the world's fuel crisis. She's blunt, she's honest and she takes no shit. She also happens to be the only person I know who can out-talk me in conversation,which is truly a rare talent!

Esther

Esther is another Myspace friend who is a talented writer and one of the few people who can make me spray Pot Noodle over my keyboard laughing. She has joined the gang recently thanks to her wonderfully vulgar sense of humour and willingness to leave acerbic comments on everyone's pages. She has recently embarked upon a musical journey with the group 'Shit and the Buggeries'. She also likes to wind up young men in pharmacies by asking in-depth questions about sanitary products, and loves fwuffy bunbuns. She is the mentally identical twin sister I never had.
Zorg Zorg is the friend I have known the longest, since college back when I were a teen; he does art, music, photography, and for many years made brilliant and stupid films, some of which I have the distinct honour of having been in. We get together and still do music from time to time, which is good, and now I am settled into my new house, I am going to bully him into doing more stupid films...

..t--My score on../t-- The What Transformer are you? Test :

Starscream
(You scored 30 Heroicness, 77 Evilness, 60 Overthrow-osity, and 38 Uber-mayhem!)

You are the back-stabbing bastard Starscream. Have fun overthrowing people!

..t--Link../t--: The What Transformer are you? Test ( ..t--OkCupid Free Online Dating../t-- )