Or:
The Unexpected Party - who drop in unconcerned for your inconveinience one sunny afternoon in late june (or was it August) and NEVER piss off until it's well passed your bed time and you then have to wake up the next morning really tired and hungover and do a sh*tload of work for some fat bastard you're better than... but oh well, at least you had fun doing their dishes!
Thursday 25th of December, 2008... 2.25am
Friday 4th of January, 2008
Welcome to this most glorified and pious of leap years, the year of "Oh Ate". I feel a slight tingling feeling in the pit of my stomach just thinking about all the bountiful things that shall be accomplished this fine young year. I get giddy and have to sit down at the mere mention of all that potential we seem to apparently have. I attach electrodes to wild cats at the sheer intensity of the magnitude of colossal enormousness that we are visiting upon ourselves. In other words, I think I preferred it when I got to travel everywhere in a pram... now that was a good year!
Wednesday 19th of December, 2007
I do not think, therefore I am. Or rather, I do not think deeply, therefore I am ignorant.
And in the majority of cases, ignorance is indeed bliss. The world is
such a cheesecake of an operation that the ruling creator (or ruling
committee of so-called, self professed "creators" who sat around a
table in suits arguing over who should do what and why the seas were
that colour and what the hell is this bloody wheel thing anyway...
while the world was created by the lower-middle class behind their
backs partly to spite them, but mostly because the lower-middle classes
were the only ones who did any actual work and as such knew precisly
what the world was meant to be)
had to have been so preoccupied with the actual creation of the damn
thing that the mental states of the poor ape-like creatures who
inhabited (and came to believe they ruled) the planet were largely left
to fend for themselves, seeking answers where they could.
This
of course led to widespread bouts of mild insanity throughout the land
(which continues to this day), where the 'people' of the planet were so
wound up with what to wear, whom to buy it from so the appropriate
label could be stuck on it and who to then parade it in front of at
work, that they completely failed to realise they were wasting their
time/life/energy/money/general reason for being (whatever it is). Of
course, many 'people' still do this today. They are ignorant of outside
matters, real worldwide
matters, and are content to be so, just so long as their telly is
sufficiently wide and flat enough. And they are of course encouraged to
do so, by other (more powerful) people who are also obsessed, albeit to
a greater degree, with the exact same things. We are a people of
ignorance. We are a people run by little green pieces of paper. We are
a people of bliss.
I need a bath.
Wednesday 12th of December, 2007
Terrific. But not Terror. Terrific is NOT the inspiration of Terror. I know this. I looked it up, in a book, and the book told me. This book is quite a reputable one, which I would like to assume knows enough about the language it portends to understand and extract meaning from that it could honestly and truthfully tell me that such-and-such a word meant this and only this or meant that but then in the 1700s changed to this meaning and now has this one and that one but not the first one... I like HIS DARK MATERIALS. Woot!
Wednesday 21st of November, 2007
Like other great orators before me, and indeed like other orators around me whom we shall call "AC's Contempories", I have begun to tell the tale of my life, with the help of TXH, THX, Dolby Digital and Sonie. I Shall soon be embarking on some crazy issue-filled life-style hell in which I write down stuff then set fire to it almost simultaneously. So I ask you a favour, nay a boon. If you work or have worked in the theatre or movie industry (whatever your job or role) if you have some crazy horror story or silly mishap or practical joke that happened there, please do not hesitate to email it to me at sandyclare@gmail.com. Thanks a bundle, and don't do anything I would!
Monday 19th of November, 2007
Today, somewhat like the other myriad of days that fill up my 'till-now empty life, I participated in an activity of grandiose desires, and somewhat less grandiose proportions once they were actualised and firmly embedded in reality. I have been attempting to attack the once noble profession of "acting" or "thesbian-itis" as it is more uncommonly known (if one is deriving it from it's secondary Latin roots). This does not mean I have been succeeding, merely that I have been trying, and encourage you to do the same.
Wednesday 14th of November, 2007
I feel I have unjustly erred in you, my audience's, favour. Therefore, I have judiciously decided to deffer (or defer, if you prefer) your previously inevitable whipping. Factually speaking, this is not the most onerous of tasks, yet I feel it would otherwise be cogent to fit some sort of word like Juxtaposed in there before we commence. Shea.
Thursday 8th of Movember, 2007
Unlike my other hominid friends, I have chosen to not partake in an otherwise star-spangling effort to grow a moose-stache. I feel it would be inadequate to call anything I can produce upon (or indeed apon) my upper lip a mustache and so I would dread the eventual money laundering that would occur whilst wearing such an appalling fur-ball of a thing on my face. Now I know that simply because of these heretical words, I shall forever be condemned to suffer spasmodically from Early Onset Prostate Cancer, but as I always say, "When In Rome."
Thursday 1st of November, 2007.
Welcome one and all, to a strange and lonesome web page berift of anything resembling content. I, your humble host Alexander Clare (Pronounced Clair, like Chair, as opposed to sounding like Cl-ah-ray, which is pretty cool in it's own right), am here merely in a subserviant manner, to sundry your every wish, whim and possom filled crazy thought. Yes, this is indeed Guff central. Goody Goody Gunshots.