Boys and girls of every age...

Wouldn't you like to see something strange?

Come with us and you will see...
This our town of Halloween!

Cheers!

- The bedlamite

A few choice words...

So... I quit my job today.
Yaaaaay! I'm free. Free as the disastrously financially inept, and highly economically dependent sparrow! Free to roam the great skies of life, doing as I please, going where I see fit!
As long as I don't have to pay for parkin that is...

So anyway. Why did I do it? Quite simple really... I felt like it. This method of selecting what to do, has been a pretty good indication of weather or not I ought to do something throughout my life. Mainly that I ought not to.

But meh, live and learn I suppose¹. Anyway, leaving did grant me one perk!
I finally got to say all those wonderfull things, that I've had on my mind for so very long.

Allow me to explain.
At work, we have this supervisor. He is, what could in scientific terms be described as the direct descendant of the missing link...
In layman terms, that translates roughly into: A complete twat!

Let me ask you a question.
When you were 8, and some stranger asked you "And what would you like to be when you grow up?" what was your answer?²
Assuming you were any kind of normal child, it probably wasn't "Oh I'd really like to be 42, dress like I'm stuck in 1992, have a mullet with bleached edges and if I could possibly work in a café in an amusement park, surrounded by teenagers and people in their early twenties, who can only ever go further in life than I did, then that'd be swell too!".

I managed to have 4 shifts with this guy, before revising my "people who really need food poisoning" list.³
His incompetance is matched only by his hair.
He's 42. It's 2007. He's got hockey hair. It's a mullet for Christ's sake. And one with bleached ends no less. But he's not metal or old time rock n' roll. He's an old man who never got beyond 1992. Somehow, he's stuck there. The football jersey from when we won EM should somehow hint at this.

Now I'm usually not a bad person... Not much anyway. But this guy really get's to me.
Every shift, he's at you every second. He has this idea, that some people are above others... This much is true. But how he ever got the idea, that he was on the top of that list is beyond me.
He is to the human species what rabbits are to kangaroo's. They might share a chromosone or two, but the similarities end there.
Now I'd not mind him pestering me as much, if he didn't fuck up all the time himself.
Metaphorically pointing fingers and laughing, while wearing a clown costume displays about as much mental activity as the lukewarm remains of an opossum who attempted to cross a road during morning rush hour.
Sure there's activity goin on in the body... But none of it qualifies for thinking.

So, anyway, my obvious dislike for this waste of carbon dioxide aside, I've been very productive today!

So far, I've taken at least 9 internet tests. All of which tell me which cartoon/harry potter/tv sitcom character I'd be, or what house I'd belong to in potter, or what I should have done after school... All highly educational with, possibly, only the slightest chance of one small flaw.

They're all deeply retarded.
Take for instance the potter one.
They're all based on ridiculous clichés.
Firstly, the only way to get into Gryffindoor, is by being the most boring, yet curagous git around.
Now, correct me if I'm wrong... But do those two often go hand in hand?
You have the courage to stand up to bullies, and do so at every opportunity, yet spend all your off time readong books, your ideal summer holiday is doing homework, you plan parties to the detail of writing down where people have to sit, and avoid the human race as much as possible because you'd rather be productive. Yet, while avoiding any kind of human contact⁴ you still retain the needed social skills to be charming and likable... All because you're the good guys, and that's what good guys do? Come on, a bit biased?

All the while, determination, arrogance and ambition doesn't give you access to slytherine either. Nope, you need to cheat, be vile, stupid and generally perform acts that would make Hitler take a few steps back and shake his head in disbelief.

Didn't she describe slytherine in book one, as ambitious, power hungry and determined? Yeah sure, that combination often makes for people who are... Shall we say, somewhat morally lacking... But I wouldn't go as far as to say that being the direct descendant of Charles Manson, and thought that granddad had some pretty good ideas, as a necesserry pre-requisit for joining that house...
It seems to be overdoing it a bit.

And if you like fun of any kind. They stick you in Ravenclaw. Yet select the same answer in the character test, and you're the Weasly twins...
Yay for making sense...
But who cares, I don't believe in tests, nor will they ever change anything. It's like with horoscopes... Never have and never will believe in horoscopes. But then... Capricorns don't.

So, anyway, why did I write all this? Because I'm getting paid to stand here doing nothing, and figured it might make me look responsible while I do as little as possible and try to have fun instead...
Which is why they put me in Ravenclaw.

Cheers!
- The Bedlamite.




¹ Or try really hard not to...
² Appart from the mandatory "I'm 8 you bloody moron, how the hell should I know?... I play with He-Man and Transformer toys and still believe in Santa... Bugger off!"
³ I have this listpurely for science... No seriously... Science...
⁴ Because no one can be arsed hanging out with such a do-gooder...

Join the Army they said... See the world they said...

I've had an epiphany. You know, one of them revelation things, where you suddenly realise something that you, if you're honest with yourself, probably already knew, and yet pretend you didn't so you can act all surprised and say things like "By God, it's all so clear now!" and generally get on people's nerves...

In my case, it's this:
People are completly and utterly retarded!
There you go. Makes sense now, doesn't it. You know... Life and that.
I mean, imagine if people weren't. If this is actually as good as it gets, and it's not just because people are a bit thick. They're as smart as they'll ever get...
Doesn't bear to think about... Does it?

What brought on this revelation you ask?
Simple. The army!¹
I have found yet another reason, why Denmark will never pose any real threat to any nation with a population higher than 12.
Now, I normally don't mind the army. I tend to ignore it and havent, as of yet, given it any reason to take an interest in me².
But all this changed when I was forced to sit next to a bunch of them on the train the other day.
A rather large bunch of them.
When males flock together, the internal priority system, wich determines which way the blood flows, seems to malfuncion, in an attempt to keep up with the rest of the pack.
This often leads to the unfortunate circumstance, that it mistakes which head the brain is located in. Resulting in a lot of people, all thinking with their penis. A function it was rather inaptly designed for.

The results often show up a bit lacking, and leave a lot to be desired.
As has often been commented upon, the average intelligence of any mob of people, can be found by taking the square root of the ammount of people in it.
Needless to say, this leaves you with a crowd whose social inaptitude can best be compared to that of a slightly underevolved colony of amoebis.
Things like "Oh man, I was SO drunk!" and "There are like 33 units in a longiceland icetea!" are not uncommon phrases to hear during these encounters.
Nor are slightly disturbing, yet oddly soothing mental images of strangulation and bludgeoning.
It's funny how that works.

But the army's not all bad. They save ducks and other animals who were too stupid to survive on their own. Which I guess someone has to do, cus they cant do it themselves, and nature seems hellbent of whiping them out.
So we, being the surpeme being we are, have decided that this whole evolution thing is getting old. Who needs all that survival of the fittest, and adapt to your surroundings crap. It's not like it's ever gotten anyone anywhere.
No, we'd much rather keep all the fluffy, big eyed things alive, no matter how dumb they are. And kill off all the intelligent species, as all they seem to do, is evolve teeth, claws and other things with which to kill of anything that might try to eat them.

Baby seals have yet to evolve this trait, which is probbaly why we like them.³ There's no chance of them ever banding together, forming a society, and trying to claim benefits, which is a likable trait in any subspecies.

Cheers.
- The Bedlamite



¹ There's something very wrong with an istitution who's examination proccess, involves looking at testicles while coughing...
² This is usually a good survival tactic, regardless of what country you're in.
³ Clubbin' baby seals should be stopped, and be the highest priority of any nation. They're ruining the night life!

Reckon Death ever had a day like this?

Typical really... isn't it?
Yes, I'm getting paid money to abuse the scanner like this...
What did you do with your tuesday?

Peachy

We've all felt like this I reckon...

Huh... We have a scanner at work.

Which means I get to play with it... Just a quick sketch. I was bored.
It's funny how much better things get, the second time around.

Tranquil?

So. Guess where I'm at? You'll never guess... I mean, it's not like I'm always here when I write...

Anyway, so... Uhm. Nothing has happened lately. Not even a little. It's been about as exciting as a "Home shopping" marathon on Tv.

You know. The one where Chuck Norris tries to sell you a Total Gym, an egg pealer, some bizare tool for cutting tomatoes into the shape of the virgin Mary, in case you should ever have guests that would find such a thing appropriate. And possibly, if you werent paying attention, another Total Gym.

Life has, in other words, been entirely uneventful. I guess this is what my mates life must be like, everyday now. He's one o' them blokes, who lookes like he's the chairman of the Golf/Yacht/Squash/Cricket/Tennis club and owns a rather large and expensive boat, down the harbour...

Unfortunately for him¹ he doesn't. He did however move to some obscure out of the way location with his girl friend, and has begun using phrases like "our poppel tree is in bloom" and "Guest room". Terms that, as far as I'm concerned, should only be used by people who are my, or someone elses, parents. It's the kind of place, where people come and knock on your door, and inform you that your grass doesn't live up to the neighbourhood standards, and should be looked after and, preferably, should possibly be a bit greener². The kind of place, you only live in, if you're obscenely rich, or would like to appear that way. It has "No riding" signs on the pavements, as everyone apparently has a horse, and only really has a name, because Cartographers tend to feel ashamed if they leave very large areas on their maps, with nothing written on it.

Why they then choose to give it names no one can even pronounce, is an entirely different form of science in itself. One that, as far as I'm aware, involves lot's of star charts, an old out-dated dictionary, and what I can only assume to be a rather solid diet of coffee and sleep deprivation.

Having said that, I shall now endevour to do nothing at all, and go read a Gamereactor mag' while getting paid for it...

What are you going to do with your sunday?

Cheers'
- The Bedlamite


¹ And us. A yacht would be wicked for the summer.
² These people actually exist. I know, it's like being told the Tooth Fairy is real!