House Of Random

Friday, February 25, 2005


Aargh! I'm so bored!

I entered "Arrgh!" into Google because I am so bored. Now I'm am quite entertained. What fun!

No, you're right. I'm still bored.

And annoyed. Annoyed mostly becuase today is Friday. Now, don't be all like "but, yeah, ok Friday's like, yeah, the *best*, uhuh, you know, day, of the the yeah, like, *whole*week*, man". Cos today it's annoying. Because it's dress down day. "Yeah, but that's like, well, uhuh, cool, and *awesome* man, yeah, cos you, yeah, uhuh, like wear jeans to work man!".

Yes, yes, that is way cool - the chance to wear jeans to work. Only I forgot. So I'm the only one dressed in a collar and slacks.


Wikki Waa Waa

DJing is big and clever.

Yes it is.

Thursday, February 24, 2005

Koochy Koochy

Fancy a little bit of long distance slap and tickle?

Whatever next?

And "spouch"? Seriously? Goes along with "spit" as NewStupidWord2005(tm)

Have fun blog surfers.

Friday, February 18, 2005

Corporate Love Day

Ok, so now the world is totally over it - Valentine's Day is done. Oh and seriously, does it have an apostrophe? It should, shouldn't it?

So what did I do? Well, I went to Hamleys with the girlfriend after lazing in bed. It was really lovely actually and I (finally) got my Dad a birthday gift. Still haven't sent it though, so well, yeah - might as well not have got anything...

After that I went to dinner with my pretty young lady in Chinatown. Great little area of London, and really nicely decorated.

First restaurant: off the main strip as we've had a few horror stories relayed about being ripped off by cheeky restaurantiers overcharging but disguising it on the bill by writing in Chinese. And if there are Chinese people eating there... well it's gotta be good, right?

First problem was that we were told "no seats on ground floor". Strange, I could see like 20... but OK, it's Valentine'(?)s Day, reservations no doubt. Second floor was upstairs. Or what, to me, seemd like back-stairs. Passed some dodgily dressed guy and the wreck of a once grand dining table and arrived swing door. The person who sent us aloft to the higher floors had vanished. I was not impressed thus far. It suddenly occurred to me that they must just house every Chinese person downstairs to get people like me to go "ooh, lots of Chinese here, must be good", get me in the door then seat me with all the other suckers, serve me downstairs' turn-aways and garnish them with phelgm.

Anyhoo - sat down. Sorry, "squeezed" down, inbetwixt an American family and some young londers. I say American "family" - they were really just a couple, but I presume they were storing their 19 dishes in their mouths to feed the babes waiting in their nest. On the other side a the young group began arguing how much they should barter off for their meal. One complained that the orange bowl for free was a nice gesture, but not at the expense of having all their dishes in the wrong order, the allergies of one member ignored and the distinct lack of rice in the special fried rice. That being why it was special, one can only presume. As their arguments about requesting 15, 20, 30% off or not even paying at all for the shocking service I stole a quick glance at the sweeter side of me and she agreed we exit.

Restaurant 2, although a walk and a bit on the really-quite-cold evening was far more professional, welcoming and well, nice. Opted for the set menu and had a pleasant surprise as each course was delivered - they made an effort to present and entertain with the food, especially the delicious crispy duck, which they prepared traditionally. The wine was chilled perfectly, the dry tang gifted me a pleasant glow and my heart and mind warmed to the conversation and company of my girl. We indulged in quite dozy lolling of the heads, propping up our lovelorn looks with hands and rested elbows, turning and twisting the rice spoons and enjoying every second of the evening's sweet conversation and anecdotes (well, actually I pointed out it'd been a year since I'd got rid of the ex and was kinda celebrating the massive turnaround it provoked in my life - like I stole back my soul from being lost forever in the jowls of destruction).

After finishing up we hit the tube and bouyant from wine began the floating trip back home. Time for me to make an idiot of myself then.

I felt intense on the tube, I felt like I had to get a few things out in the open, a few words to sum up the happiness I felt. I was leaning forward, hands to chin then hands thust forward with all my points. Sharp breaths and particular emphasis. Pauses, drama and attempts at meaningful words. Words to melt a beautiful heart, to have it run amongst my loving fingers, sccoped up and kissed and adored and cherished. I turned to face her at the punctuation of airing my final thought. I looked at her face, her cheeks reddened either side her sweet nose, her brow blessed with gentle strands of flowing hair, the curl of her smile creeping up her profile. And so it crept, her teeth bared a little, her lips a-quivver. I chanced there might be a welling, some chord struck within her resonating and teasing her tears from out her eyes. Her throat murmurmed. Was it choked? Her brow furrowed. Had I said too much? Were her feelings to fight out of her heart and make known her blissful happiness?

Well... not quite.

Her mouth did continue to quivver. Her brow was furrowed still further. Her teeth did escape her sealed lips and break into a smile. Her throat murmer became a giggle. Then a laugh. Then silence as the quivver became a shake and her eyes wrung out a tear of amusement. She was laughing at me.

Apparently plum sauce is a terrible hair gel.

Did I mention?

My sister has applied to work in a call centre.

A porno call center.

Check out her blog.

Today she told me that her boss (our favourite transvestite) spoke to her out of choice today. Apparrently he smells nice. Floral; hint of musk.

Very orange make-up for this time of year and hair slightly curly, due to the moisture laden air, most likely.

Skiing was his conversation opener. Happens to be his favourite pass-time.

Today's question: what does he wear whilst riding the snowy plains?

Thursday, February 10, 2005

Chase the rain Claude away

Anyhoo... this made me laugh...

As Claude took to the stage, he announced, "Unlike most stage hypnotists who invite two or three people up onto the stage to be put into a trance, I intend to hypnotize each and every member of this audience."

The excitement was almost electric as Claude withdrew a beautiful antique pocket watch from his coat.

"I want you each to keep your eye on this antique watch. It's a very special watch. It's been in my family for six generations."

He began to swing the watch gently back and forth while quietly chanting, "Watch the watch, watch the watch, and watch the watch..."

The crowd became mesmerized as the watch swayed back and forth, light gleaming off its polished surface. Hundreds of pairs of eyes followed the swaying watch, until suddenly it slipped from the hypnotist's fingers and fell to the floor, breaking into a hundred pieces.

"Sh*t!" exclaimed Claude.

It took 2 weeks to clean up the theatre.


This is my happy face! Went to see Green Day in concert this week. Since I first saw them on Top of The Pops when I was like 13, I've wanted to see them live. I wanted to be them. They were the greatest band I'd ever heard, and the reason I stopped listening to Dance Music and entered the teenage angst rock-out stage of my life. I progressed through Offspring and Nirvana, and even toyed with Machine Head and Pantera. I then discovered faithless a few years later and Dance music had me back in it's clutches. But you know, Green Day remained. So did Offspring, and I think that American teenager (Idiot?) in me will always remain. I still love Blink, and Vertical Horizon and New Found Glory - and I get my shoutiness fix from Linkin Park. It's all down to Green Day, really. So seeing them live, having waited more than 10 years has had a massively profound affect on me. It's like reliving the past decade of my life. It was amazing. They played "2000 Light Years Away" - a song which I learned on the guitar their music inspired me to spend my life savings on. That feeling was irreplaceable. It saddens me to think that time of my life has passed, but there's decades left to live, and though it chokes me everytime I hear my soundtrack of thousand hopeful dreams - I live in those words and will forever. Here's to you Green Day.

Monday, February 07, 2005

Ooooh I'm burning for a take away

"There's a fire in my belly!

"Feed me! It's an emergency!"

Decisions Decisions

It was the early hours of Sunday morning. Crazy partying had left me wandering London's streets looking for the elusive rue d'Oxford, and the wonderful night-bus that would transport my all-danced-out self home to a warm bed. An Asian man, in all probability from Thailand, followed me for about half an hour as my chosen route led me through Soho. He caught up with me on a couple of occasions, and made no hesitation in requesting my thoughts on the stronger gender. Yes, that's right, he asked me if I liked men. I don't personally find gratification in carnal relations with my fellow man and so informed him quite politely that it was not something I was interested in. He countered me and explained that he could "suck my cock so well I'd change my mind". An alarming suggestion and one that was met with a request that he vacate my presence.

Apparently, the message didn't get through.

Our second encounter was a greater surprise, seeing as I had used my Doom 3 dodge-and-run techniques to out flank the little freak, but it appears he was equal to the challenge. Licking his lips in a manner that sort of chilled my blood, and frankly gave rise to my losing any hint of humour at his suggestions, he again insisted that I really should consider offering my flesh to his dirty rotten little self. I'm 6 foot 4, and I work out. And I can get really fucking mean if I have to. So I explained to him in quite simple terms that he should make every effort to get out of my face before I found reason to powder his facial bones with my fist.

Some people don't learn.

After he disappeared I considered some of the things he said to me. and upon his inevitable third appearance I decided to let him speak a little more before I stepped into his face and said words with enough malicious intent to cause him to actually run away (and thankfully not return). His discourse was amusing if only for the fact that I kept willing him to offer to "love me long time" just so I could tell all my friends and laugh endlessly at the ridiculous encounter. In fact, after explaining to me for the tenth time that I was a beautiful boy, enquiring about the size of my manhood and generally being really quite scary: licking his lips and offering to blow me - he suggested that I didn't even have to pay him.

Well, it's nice to be given the choice.

Friday, February 04, 2005

My Hero

The proprietor of this establishment is a genius.

And, seriously - how 'South Park' is it to set up a focus group?

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

It's not about the breasts

Today, I hear that a new haircut has distracted from the usual topic of whether the breasts are in.

It's a perm.
It's grey.
And apparently.... it's big.

Grey-afro-perm-cross-dresser-boss-breast-status-unknkown-Wednesday it is.

Happy Cube-Doom dear readers :-)

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Beer is a man's best friend

Beer is the saviour!

Words, thoughts, dreams & ideas, dirtySi, London, UK, from the year 2005 onward