Cambodia

An immense feeling of melancholy.




Is anything getting better?

A twisting tumble into despair

My life has become more and more strange. I feel increasingly detached, almost totally detached. Maybe a small part of my wrist is still attached.

The rest of me feels great - descending. I am looking through the ventian blinds onto on odd scene. There are twelve people auditioning to be my british best friend.

They have the bodies of sexy women but have my bosses face. Oh dear it is so hard to choose which one is my favourite british best friend. They all tell me that they are real and not fake.

There is a tube to my left that is being gripped by my hand. If I pull it down it will release the ants.

I release the ants.

The ants eat the british best friends. I am safe behind the venetian blinds.

There is a small protest group forming amongst the viscera of my british best friends. They all hold up cards that say 'murder is murder'. They are screaming at me.

I release the ants.

There is a list of things that are not true and i am going through them with my ants and eradicating them. I am eradicating fallacy. I am so angry about ignorance. The ants are resonating.

Don't ignore ants.

They are crawling over my wrist.

i am david

everyone knows david, right?

you know? little david?

no?

let's meet him.



this is the incredible thing i was involved in.

i made it with good old chris.

we are both very proud, like parents. like lovely and proud parents.

david is our suckling baby.

Sensational

My body is floating in a long line of bodies on the way to the incinerator.

I am chatting to the body next to me - we are two by two - like animals into the ark. I can't turn my head because of the spike that is in my head.

"So, what are you here for?"

"Well - it's a long story."

"What happened?"

"I accidentally launched a baby."

This is the first time I have spoken to someone who isn't my boss for a long time.

A raven swoops down onto my stomach and looks at me. He has a moustache and is singing a happy song.

You are my one true love/
You make me smile/
Would you give me your love/
As I defile/

I am suddenly reminded of the rest of my life except for this psychotic episode. I am trapped in the toilet at work, crying. Sobs are erupting from me.

I am crying because I have finally had an emotional response to the treatment I receive at my work place. I will do something about it.

I keep thinking to myself that it is my own fault. I am crying and eating crisps. I am eating salt and vinegar crisps. They have a melancholic flavour. It is a very big bag of crisps - my tears are making them into a mush.

Thoughts of revolution and quiet rebellion surge inside of me. Freedom and fun can be mine - I can be human again. I can feel things in the normal way. I can achieve all of this very shortly.

I rub the vinegar mush into my face.

When I return to the office I am asked why I have taken such a long time.

I say that I fell into some crisps and it hurt my eyes.

I sit down at my pod and join the bodies on the way to the incinerator.

Please watch this immediately.

This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This

I have never felt so proud/happy/weird.

Something very special

I am involved in the creation of something very very very special.

Trust me.

This is going to be very very very special.

I hope you are excited.

I am

a writer who doesn't write anything

sitting on my sofa feeling lost

getting fatter and fatter every day

not capable

thinking about the time someone came up to me and got me worried

repellant

not asking anything of anyone

totally all over it like a rash, tell me what to do and i will achieve it i don't know why no one takes me seriously take me seriously i cannot sustain the level of quality over a long period of time that i can display over a short period of time what is the point in any of this what is the point i am losing my sense of irony and buying into a load of crap gowgnw

Grinding

Tap tap clicking tap tap button.

Looking over my shoulder.

I am talking.

I am looking at the clock.

I am nervous and bored.

There is a knot in my stomach.

My boss is hovering over my head.

He is a vampire.

He has a special hard on.

It will suck my blood out.

New and Exciting Project

Ever wanted to be in charge of your own destiny?

Visit my new blog, Choose your own adventure.

I think that I am quite excited about it. It is interactive. Please join in and make it a success.

Electronic feedback mistake.

I am looking upwards from my bed out of the roof window. I can see the stretching beauty of the heavens. I am a small and insignificant extension of humanity. I am very important and life size. I am larger than life size.

I am thinking about my ambitions and other potentially exciting things. I do not think that I have a plan that will let me realise my ambitions. The man lying next to me turns towards me. It is not a man, it is a demon.

"Hi Pal."

"Hi Demon."

"Come on pal, sort your self out."

"Sorry."

The demon dissapears. He is replaced by a phone. I dial myself through the phone lines and end up somewhere else. I am an electronic communication, stretching outwards and finding other pulses of light.

I think that I am going to short-circuit myself. I think that I am having a malfunction. I am a mixture of flesh and light.

THROW ALL OF YOUR MONEY INTO THE TOILET

Shove huge wads of cash into the shit-bowl. Make an ISA of your U-Bend. Grab your cheque book and baste it in your effluent. Attack the porcelain with coins and notes.

Throw all of your money into the toilet straight away. Shove it in and look away.

Maybe you have seen this?

I write a blog with Chris sometimes. I like doing it, it makes me feel sexy. You can check it out here if you like. It is only updated very rarely. Read it from the bottom to get the full power.

I want to be a very brave little soldier.

I want to happilly live somewhere that is nice and well looked after.
I want to feel confident at all times.
I want to have a full and confident life.
I want to see far off lands and distant, forgotten peoples.
I want to have misty and mysterious surroundings.
I want to have plans.
I want to not squabble and make a fool of myself.
I want to be a pleasure to be around.
I want to develop a thick and ropey torso.
I want to do exercises to make my bottom the talk of the town.
I want chicken and pies to carry on forever.
I want to have ideas all of the time that delight people.
I want to be an honest and good man.
I want to be as funny and entertaining as I think I am.
I want to have a romance that continues to be fulfilling and passionate.
I want to make some money so that I can live a wonderful life.
I want to ensure that if I have children they are proud of me.
I want my parents to be proud of me.
I want to not be disgusting.
I want to look at the things I have collected in my life and think 'that's nice'.
I want to create something that everyone thinks is great.
I want to not worry about medical problems.
I want to understand things.
I want to go to bed at a reasonable time.
I want to have some control over my finances.
I want to have some control over my gut.
I want to eat forever.
I want to sleep in a comfortable and clean bed.

MEN

I have inadvertently created another Chap Book. It it called MEN. Crispin created the words and I have drawn some very special pictures for it. If you would like to find out how to get a copy please go to here.

Trust me, this book is well worth having. It is absolutely incredible. I am seriously excited about it. I think Crispin is going to do some sewing on it or something.

My god.

If you are scared of e-mailing Crispn I suppose you can e-mail me (socratesadams@gmail.com).

Sticky Lattice

Just walking down the street, nothing odd going on to make me feel odd. One foot in front of the other I have a great technique.

My foot is stuck in something. It is an unusually large piece of chewing gum.

I lift my leg up with all of my might. My foot is still attached to the floor. I use my hand to move the chewing gum. It is too strong for me to break. I try and take the gum off my hand with my other hand. The gum is now stuck to both of my hands.

The gum is now stuck to every part of my body.

I am trapped in a huge mass of unusually sticky and strong and flexible gum.

I slowly am forced into a crouching position by the powerful elastic tension of the gum. I think that if someone were looking at me they might think that I am an unusually large coccoon.

I start to eat my way out. When I emerge I think that I might be a new creature. When I emerge I think that I will be absolutely fine. When I emerge my guts will be bunged up with sticking and twice chewed gum.

I am so god damned cool.

Reflection

I can see the man that I am reflected a hundred thousand times in mirrors behind and in front of me. My flaws are reflected for ever. I am humble with my head bowed and my back broken.

I think back on my life.

I have not had a good life.

Time to be quiet.

A Disastrous and Unavoidable Event

All of the most wonderful and life affirming words that I can think of are pouring into my mind from every possible side.

Fantastic

Beautiful

Excitement

Comfortable

Hope

My boss has been fired. I feel like the only possible thing that can make my life any better now is if my plant wasn't slowing dying.

My plant has been slowly dying ever since I bought it.

I am trying to become more responsible and I think that looking after a plant is a fantastic way to do this. My plant has a human face that smiles at me.

I am going to bed later and later and later. I find it so hard to sleep because I don't want to sleep. If I fall asleep then the next day is nearly here. Every day is a terrible day. I watch videos of animals fighting each other and then feel guilty.

I never think about sexual things. I feel as though the part of my mind concerned with sexual things has been somehow deactivated. I feel as though the part of my mind concerned with sexual things has been taken away from me and replaced with a part of someone else's brain who likes to eat burritos.

Being a girl for a while might want me to eat less burritos. Trying to be a physical creature instead of a brain floating in gelatinous human fat would make me want to eat less burritos. I want to consume everything in the world. I feel totally happy when I am consuming everything that I see.

I think about trying to be a tough guy. I don't think I can do it. My boredom not force me to do something incredible.

The stars are drawing in and shining powerfully into my eyes,
I turn from one side to the other full of disgust as the stars,
Burn a gap into my head where my brain was,
I collapse with no brain into a drooling heap,
Powered by the rays of the stars that I love.

Little Gentle Film

Sam Pink sent me a poem.

I made a film out of the Poem with Chris.

The film is available for view.

I will go back to writing proper blog posts on here soon I am sorry everyone.

100th Post

Congratulations! You have reached your 100th post on Chicken and Pies. This is a very exciting and momentous occasion! You have a number of options which could make your 100th post extra special and exciting for everyone who reads this blog.

1. Post a link to another piece of writing you have completed on a new and special website that shows your readers that you have a real and exciting life aside from the words which are on your blog.

2. Post a link to a new and exciting song which will motivate and excite everyone who reads this blog.

3. Write a list of your own favourite blog posts on your blog which maybe some newer readers haven't had the time to go back and read but that you think are quite nice relative to the rest of the posts on your blog.

4. Post the first chapter of the novel that you are writing that is inspired by the blog that you have written for over a year.

Chapter 1

Shirt, tie, shoes and jacket. A clean face. I am called into my supervisor's office. It is my monthly assessment and the room is getting hot. Or rather the room is hot, and I am getting hot. I am made of carbon which is made in the life cycle of a star. The carbon in me is getting hot in this pokey room with a plant in the corner. The door closes behind my supervisor and he takes a seat which faces me. His face is at the same height as mine but somehow I feel like he is higher up than me. There is a shiny rectangular box on the table in front of my boss. He starts to talk to me about my performance over the last month. My performance has not been good over the last month. Not good at all. My performance last month has been bad.
"Your performance this last month has been bad. Do you have your targets and actuals?"
I bring out my targets and actuals from the last month. My boss looks at the page.
"I'm going to mark each section of these targets that you have under-performed in with this red ink."
My boss brings out a pot of red paint and pours it over the sheet of paper. I do not look directly at my bosses face in case he tries to bite me. I look at his left eye for a second and then look back down at the wholly red piece of paper.
"How does this make you feel?"
"Sort of, sick?"
"How do you think it makes me feel?"
"Does it make you feel good?" I hope this is the right answer.
"It makes me feel superior to you. How much money do you earn now?"
"£5.60 per hour."
"I earn £5.60 per second. You are totally shit at your job. You are a weakling. Do you think that's fair?" I think this is a trick question.
"Maybe." I answer, cleverly. I can't really tell how well the assessment is going. Nothing particularly bad has happened so far. The clock on the wall shows that one minute has passed since the start of the assessment. Assessments normally last five hours.
"Do you like lovely chocolate cake?" This is a terrifying question.
"I suppose so."
My boss take out a piece of sponge cake from the black box on the table in front of him. The cake looks very delicious.
"This cake is made with butter, sugar and flour. I made it last night - I love to bake, I find it relaxing. I love smashing up butter in a pot and pouring loads of sugar and flour all over it. I like doing it when I'm naked. Sometimes I get a hard on and fuck the cake mix. I fucked this cake mix last night. Do you want to eat my sex cake?"
I really don't want to eat it. My boss is a foul looking man, fat and heavily eyebrowed. I imagine that his cock probably has diseases.
"You are the cake," He says to me. "Say I am the cake or I will fire you."
I hesitate.
"Say I am the cake right now or I will fire you."
"I am the cake."
"Now keep saying it while I do my business."
I keep saying "I am the cake." My boss stands on the table and faces away from me and the cake. He is just facing away from me. He pulls down his trousers and underwear. He crouches down. I hear a noise from his mouth. "I am the cake." He shits on me. The cake is covered in shit.
"Now eat yourself." He says.
This assessment is not going badly, all things considered. I look at the crumbly spongy cake all covered in the shit of my boss. I really feel as though I am probably going to eat the cake. Can he make me eat this cake? I think about my boss. When I first met him I really thought that we were going to get on. I suppose that when we aren't in the assessment room we do get on; He is complementary about my work and he has a great wit to him. For a man of relatively young age he has achieved a great deal, I try and learn as much as I can from him about the tube business.
I first decided to get into tubes when I was much younger, five years ago it was. I remember it clearly - I was looking at a tube and thought to myself 'tubes are incredibly beautiful'. They have a perfect round integrity as well as myriad practical applications. We would be pretty stuck without tubes. Even though I had a genuine appreciation for the form and function of my chosen obsession I didn't realise that there was a multi pound industry built around the manufacture and distribution of tubes of varying colour and smell.
Every tube has it's own smell. That's not really true I suppose. In fact it's rubbish, tubes smell of whatever they have inside them. Tubes full of effluent stink of shit and tubes full of sperm reek of spunk. Shit and spunk.
"Why aren't you eating your cake? Why do you hate yourself? Ian, are you listening to me?"
"Yes, I just. I really don't want. I've. Well, I've never eaten shit before."
"I understand. Up until now you are not doing very well I am afraid. Sidney was much better than you. He started a month after you here didn't he? How does it make you feel to know that he has over taken you?"
"It makes me feel like I have less talent than him." It's hard to keep talking without gagging; The smell is overpowering in the hot, small room.
"At least you have some amount of self awareness. What we need in this company is people who put their own happiness and satisfaction on the back burner and concentrate all of their focus on stuffing loads of money into the pot. The big pot that gets shared between the people at the top. "
"I think I can do that."
My boss with a swiping motion smacks the shit covered cake off the table and into the wall where it sticks for a second before smearing down slowly.
"You are a waster Ian. A waster." My boss is bellowing at me, his face is red. "You waste everyone's time, you waste my breath, you are a waste of the office stationery budget." I try my hardest not to react to this but I can feel that my top lip is just shaking slightly.
"I think that there is only one thing that I can do to try and make you understand what we expect from you at this office Ian. We have, over the years pioneered a therapy at this company which we only mete out to the very worst workers."
I am starting to feel rather raw. It's difficult not to think about my boss peeling all of the skin off my head. I think about him ripping all of my hair out and then wrenching muscles and tendons away from my face. I picture myself as a bloody skull, which my boss is licking with his tongue, which is black. The end of the tongue stiffens and he rams it through my skull, making a hole in my head.
"How would you like to be a father?" He is carefully asking me questions.
"I don't want to be a father."
"This is your son now Ian." My boss reaches under the table and pulls out a standard grey tube. Ten inches long, two inches across. "You are going to have to look after this for the next two weeks." A terrible thought breaks into my mind. "What do you want to call it?"
"I don't mind. Can't I just call it Tube."
"No, you have to give it a real name, like Mildred."
"OK, I'll call it Mildred" My boss seems to relax a little bit, his face sort of slackens. He holds the tube up to my face and points to one of the ends of it.
"This is Mildred's mouth. This," he points to the other end, " is Mildred's arse. You have to feed her three times a day through her mouth. Don't put food in her arse, she doesn't like it. This symbolises your dependency to the company. Whenever you meet anyone you have to get Mildred out and say, 'This is my beautiful baby, Mildred. This is to make you empathise with the embarrassment the company feels whenever you do anything that is below standards, which in your case is everything." I need to interrupt my Boss to ask him a question.
"Do I have to"
"Shut up."
"Sorry."
"The therapy is going to last for two weeks, unless I say otherwise. Remember, dependency and humiliation are the main emotions that you feel. And that is how you should feel working for us, it gets you into the right mindset. Eventually you'll start to feel seriously inadequate as a father, which is how you should feel as a worker." I can't stop thinking about the terrible thought I had earlier. Poor Mildred. "Now put Mildred away. The written part of the assessment starts next."

5. Say thankyou to everyone who reads your blog and assure them that knowing that people read what you write makes you feel like a wonderful success.

Tender personal video

Please watch this affecting and emotional film. Please leave comments about how affected you were. Please enjoy our video.



P.S The next post will be my 100th post on Chicken and Pies. It has been a long hard, tedious, boring, monotonous, painful, awful, life destroying process. Prepare to be dazzled.

Late night special.

I am lying awake and my computer has taken me to a page that has made me excited. I have read a very nice story about a man who has an itchy big toe. The big toe is seriously itchy. It is a comforting, nice and lovely story that has a happy and beautiful ending and also a very informative and emotionally intelligent middle as well as a start that is full of promise.

You can read the story here.

I don't know why I am doing this.

I think that my penis is shrinking while the rest of my body is getting fatter. It is as though the front part of my body is folding into my penis which is like a black hole. But somehow I am getting larger. Even though I am folding up into my penis.

My penis has a very large mass. A section of my penis the size of an ant weighs as much as fifteen Empire State Buildings.

My penis is so heavy that light cannot escape from it. Nothing can escape from it. I cannot escape from it.

The Lady

I have been approved at www.hivemagazine.co.uk

I have posted my first story there. It is called The Lady.

You can read it here.

Moderate

A quiet and dark room with a glow in it and me in it in the glow in it glowing. A thought of blood and vampires. A small and scuttling shuffle. A realisaition; I do not know what I am doing. A flapping and impotent man. I am not worried. I am powerful. I am not a youngling of a vampire I am not a real vampire, I am not vamping out, I am not pulling pranks on older ladies. Everything is fine. If I just keep writing then it will be good I think. There is a burning and scary flame inside me. I think it is because I ate a RICH SZECHUAN GRAVY with some freshly made pasta. The pasta is like JAMIE OLIVER'S PASTA. Today I am going to put a small child inside a small white cube and see if it grows into a meat cube. I will not tell the police, they will not find out. The child won't know any different so it is TECHNICALLY not a bad thing to do. I think that it is ok. My eyes hurt.

Remix

A recent song I made with Chris Killen has been remixed by Crispin Best.

I would love it if you listened to it. But hurry! Only 100 downloads allowed and I have already downloaded it, so that's 99 left at the most.

It is very catchy!

Happy Shandy for Andy

Myself and my friend christopher killing have created a new masterpiece.

You can hear this rare and seductive beauty right here.

Happy new year.

P.S I find myself increasingly proud of this. It makes me smile every day.

New Years Eve Treat

I made this video with Emma a while ago. I just watched it again and it made me laugh.

I hope you like it.

CHOO CHOO CHUGGA CHUGGA CHUGGA CHUGGA CHUGGA CHOO CHOO

I am on a train. The train is full of loud and rude people who are squeezed together so that some of their skin is touching. I am sitting next to an angry and fat man who is touching my skin with his skin. 

I can feel the bulge of his flesh beneath his skin against the bulge of my flesh beneath my skin. Our skins are getting acquainted.

There is a conductor on the train who is sweeping up and down very quickly saying tickets tickets any new tickets give me your ticket I need a ticket from you stop hiding in the toilet give me a ticket. The train is moving very fast through the country cutting its way very quickly.

The landscape is a dreadful blur. There is a man selling hot coffee from a trolley he is going past loudly and hissing and steaming all over the place. There are crisps and exciting snacks bursting out from his trolley waiting to be crunched away by snapping angry commuter's teeth.

A baby that is crying and crying carries on crying until its mother hits it on the head with her hand so that it stops crying. She is pumping it full of drugs to stop it crying.

An older man is sneezing his pus and infections all over his wife who thinks he is talking and says sorry dear what was that while his mobile phone rings a naval tune and he answers it screaming FUCK OFF.

Three grey suited businessmen laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and I hate them. They are talking about Eric and how he is banned from trains because he is always farting.

The man next to me is looking at me and making an odd noise.

The man's face looks like a condom stuffed with minced meat.

The man is touching his chest where his nipple might be.

I am in some kind of hell.

Toil

I have written my 1500 word story for the hive magazine and sent it to the man who asked for it in the first place.

It is a story called "The Lady"

Here are some teaser taster sections for everyone to love and cherish forever.

"I am sitting at my pod.
I have been in work sitting at my pod for fifteen minutes.
I think I have wet myself."

And also -

"The beautiful lady. The wonderful boss lady. The lady that makes me feel special and happy.

She is looking at me with a look like she wants to give me a sweet kiss.

She opens her wonderful mouth.

"HENRY YOU PIECE OF SHIT" She says."

It is pretty weird. I wonder whether it will be OK?

I have been tagged

Sam Pink has tagged me. This means that I have to write seven things about myself and then nominate 7 seven to do the same thing.

1. I am on a train.
2. A hair fell out of my arm and landed on my laptop computer. It looks bad.
3. I don't know how long I am going to survive.
4. I live in Manchester.
5. I always have breakfast.
6. I am from Bath originally.
7. When I was growing up some bigger boys threw me into nettle bushes because my name was/is Socrates.

OK. So I have to tag seven people now. This is going to be fiddly.

1. Jenn Ashworth
2. Sally Cook
3. Jarvis Cocker
4. LVB
5. Judy Roo
6. Frank Morgan
7. DELETED DUE TO PORN WATCHERS ATTACKING MY BLOG

You should look at these people's blogs. Some of them are not real. If you can spot which ones are not real you will win 5 no prizes.

I am Reading and Laughing at This Tonight

http://nopointinnotbeingfriends.blogspot.com/

It is going to be "Oh such fun"

Hap-py christmas.

P.S no one in America has let me know whether the chap book has arrived which makes me worry. What if I didn't put enough postage on them? What if chap books aren't allowed in America?

Emergency.

The autumn sun has made the trees look old and sad. They seem to be good natured. The old trees are carefully watching me as I make my way between them, winding. I hear, every few seconds, the song of a bird that is lodging in the branches of the kindly and sad trees up above. I am not self centered.

Every sunday now this routine. No holidays or workdays, just a simple little sunday stroll with no one else. The main thing to do is to just have a lovely relax. Just let yourself sweetly relax and feel like a little piece of dew on a flower.

There is no trouble going on. There is no city and no people and nothing at all that I don't like. Quiet and alone and full of thoughts. There is no Gok Wan going mad around here. There are no phone in competitions. Is this a death? I think I can feel a hearbeat but it might not be mine.

I am going to carry on thinking about whether I might be dead.

The Brutal Silence of Falling Asleep

I am lying in my bed with my covers over my body. It has been a cold day and the night is also cold.

There is a tired and quiet silence in the room.

I have been trying to sleep now for one hour and forty five minutes. I cannot get to sleep.

My calf muscles are tingling. The tingling feeling means that I am going to get a cramp in my calf muscles if I move them only one milimeter minimum. I have been thinking about my calf muscles. They are willfully preventing me from falling asleep.

I am ringing NHS direct while standing, naked in the centre of my room. I do not give the nurse on the phone my real name in case of the government. I tell her I am called Marty Gunt. The nurse tells me to eat one teaspoon of salt. My calf muscles need salt to stop seizing up.

I have a teaspoon of salt in front of my face. It is a heaped teaspoon of salt. I carefully stand on my bed. I hold one hand aloft while tipping the salt into my mouth.

THE SALT IS DELICIOUS.

This is the most delicious teaspoon of salt I have ever tasted. The salt is absolutely delicious. My mouth feels wonderful.

I go to the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later I have no salt left. My mouth is dessicated. My body has too much salt in it. I feel anxious. I feel anxious because I have run out of salt.

I go to the supermarket. I buy £500 worth of salt. I lock myself in my room for two weeks.

I have now had three heart attacks.

Second Review

I have received a glowing review.

You can read it here

I am blushing.

ADDITION

Here is another review

I also like it very much.

First Review of Chapbook + Exciting News

Review

Received your chapbook in the post today, and have just finished reading it. I enjoyed it very much, thank you. the old man reminded me of an old man i used to work with. except he wasn't evil. he was odd though. during the sixties he used to join occult groups to meet chicks. i don't think he got to meet many. he was asked to leave, usually, for asking too many questions. he once brought in a newspaper cutting about a man who could bring women to orgasm using only the power of his mind, which he then tried to replicate for the rest of the day.

News

I have been asked to write a short piece for the new print edition of www.hivemagazine.co.uk

I don't know what to write about. I would like suggestions, in response to this post, of a title for the piece to inspire me. I would like the title to be 2 or 3 words long, preferably 2. I would like the title to be exciting.

The winner will receive no prize.

Half Asleep Treat

There is a delicious selection of biscuits for cheese spread across the plate in front of me. I have Jacob's Cream Crackers. I have a variety of cheeses.

I am being transported to a world in which anything that I can dream of can become my reality. The world is not quite right. I have asked the guardian of the world for a couple of chutneys to help the cheese and biscuits slip down easier.

There is no chutney forthcoming. I would like some chutney now please for god sake. Give me my chutney. Excuse me, I need some chutney from you. You know? Chutney.

I don't want any pickle thanks. Just chutney.

And then all of a sudden I am back in the room in which I was before being transported to the magnificent land where I was lord of everything it seems wrong to me to be forced back into being a less potent being.

I have written a list of things to ask for if I become lord of all things again.

1. Chutney
2. A pair of socks.
3. The body and face and personality of Gok Wan.
4. A special stone that sparkles in the light.
5. My lost and missed childhood.
6. Chalk.
7. Hair remover and muscle increaser.
8. A place to hide.
9. The only one I have ever loved.
10. Give me chutney.
11. I want some chutney.
12. Is it so hard to get some chutney?

Dispatches

Right.

The first 27 chapbooks have been sent - that's everyone who has ordered one so far.

20 are going to england.

7 are going to america.

There are 23 left.

If you want one, let me know. When you receive yours, please let me know. I feel happy.

Chapped Hands

My chapbook is now a physical entity. It has been printed and folded and torn. My hands are red and raw from folding and tearing and printing.

I am very happy with my chapbook. A copy of it will be winging its way to you if you have e-mailed me with your postal address.

It is not too late if you still want one.

Finally I have created something.

The Most Wonderful Thing Anyone Has Ever Done For Me

I received this in an e-mail. It is a picture of Simon Cowell's Brain.

Feeling down?

Check this new exciting self help site:

http://twelvefortyfive.blogspot.com/

They also do literature and stuff or whatever.

Get me out of here.

Someone get me out of here. Please help me to get out of here. I don't want to be here. My senses are shutting down slowly. My brain is in a state of panic. My body is slothful.

There is a yellow table in front of me and I am surrounded by chattering idiots. The computer screen is a special vortex that makes me feel like I am falling forever.

My colleagues hate and laugh all day long. I sit down and shove biscuits and coffee and tea and sandwiches into my face and mouth. I spill coffee all over my groin every day.

My keyboard is a moulding pit of flaked skin and grimy dirt paste. I wish that I was outside in the rain or in a sacred forest surrounded by elms.

Information

I am aiming for a print date of next Saturday or Sunday for Flesh Feast: The Human Brain. I am sorry about the additional waiting period. This is due to a mixture of technical difficulties and human difficulties. The human difficulties include me feeling scared and tired. The technical difficulties include having to print out many pages of paper on a printer that I do not own. But I will succeed.

Here is a sneak preview from Flesh Feast: The Human Brain.

"Are you thinking of me, my precious bone and marrow and flesh feast?"

I hope that tides you over. P.S I have now enhanced the cover artwork.

Exclusive Cover Artwork

I HAVE WRITTEN ALL OF THE TEXT OF MY CHAPBOOK

If you want a copy and haven't done so please e-mail me immediately with your postal address.

It is the best thing I have ever done.

Chap Book

It's nearly done.
Only 1.5 chapters remain.

Calm down

I think that there is too much stress and trouble in my life for me to be a healthy young man.

I am sitting as always alone on my sofa wondering about the intricacies and tribulations of my life and the lives of others. I feel as though a lot of people might have severe and enduring mental health problems that aren't being correctly treated by a qualified and caring mental health support worker/project worker.

I am looking at a picture of the human brain in a book entitled, "The Human Brain". The human brain is looking pretty good. I wonder if my human brain looks like the human brain in the picture in "The Human Brain". My human brain is grey and round like the human brain in "The Human Brain".

Gok Wan's human brain is positively beaming. Gok Wan's human brain is studded with diamonds and is decorated with lipstick and blusher. Gok Wan's skull is a Gucci handbag and his human brain is his money and personal belongings.

Simon Cowell's human brain is so god damn angry looking. It is black and bulbous and full of angry thoughts and evil desires. It is covered in the blood of his victims and is floating through mid air striking people down left right and centre.

I want to create a television programme. It is about The Human Brain. In the programme we get lots of celebrities' brains to fight amongst themselves in a small white cube. By the end of the programme the cube's insides are covered in the pulp of mashed up famous brains.

I am going to write a book on the human brain. The book will be called "Flesh Feast; The Human Brain".