Yo. Those of you who pay any attention to the peripherals of my bloody blog will have noticed some new additions. With the Guest Blogging, I've kind of not been doing any myself recently, so haven't done the whole bigging up business, but I will do that now.
"Twist Turn Upsidedown" is the blog of my chums Jeff & Jon & their mate who I don't know, and is therefore less interesting. They have moved to Australia and the blog is about that. I can't wait for the Koala sex orgy post.
"The Process Of Weeding Out" is my mate Tim's blog. Tim has a lovely face and very good taste in music. So far his blog isn't about either of those things, but he's good with computers and that. I've forgotten what relevance that has now.
"Anya Moss' City" is the blog of a nameless friend who after doing a guest blog as Anya Moss, decided that anonymous blogging was the thing for them, and set up their own city. I think they were just trying to outdo my farm personally.
Garret retuens with his "The Blog Of Ineffable Exasperation" under the proviso that this time he is not a wussy no-writer and actually does it properly this time. If I have to take his blog off again there will be serious words exchanged between my face and his.
Last but not least, in fact probably most excitingly, is "My Cowardly Lion". A blog by my mate Blake. Blake is like Woody Harrelson in the film "Natural Born Killers", but if "Natural Born Killers" had been written by David Lynch instead. Still directed by Oliver Stone though. I was gonna say he'd probably chainsaw up Staz's mum, but I reckon Blake is a massive pussy around his girlfriend's parents and has more manners than a manner-tee. But then let's face it, that's what we're all like around our lovers mothers and fathers, right? It's like the golden rule or something. Never let your partner's parents see the real you. Always, always be the safe you. The nice you. The you that likes children and helps injured kittens. Not the you who's seen their daughter naked and does unspeakable things to her on a regular basis. The you that uses a napkin and asks to be excused from the table. Not the you who's going to give their laundry basket the smell of excitment sodden knickers.
Yes, I mean excitment, not excrement. I'm not into fecal games thankyou, and if I was, I certainly wouldn't do that at someone's parents house. Unless it was someone I didn't like or wanted to break up with, in which case that shit would be all over the fucking walls. Yeah, see how you like the dirty finger-painting of hatred!
Right, I'll be back to proper blogging soon.
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