Did you know...

That I am a secret fucking GENIUS? Proof? here goes:

Okay guys. I'm gonna really lay it on you this time. No more fucking around. I have come up with possibly *the* best idea for a film ever.

'GRAMBO'
John Rambo's grandfather. He's the original badass. These days he doesn't move too quick, shuffles a bit in orthopedic shoes. Picture him! Red wooly cardigan, dentures, Werther's Originals, someone to gum his food for him, and a fucking headband, just like his li'l grandson Johnny.



I see him as played by Dick van Dyke, don't you? Or an artfully made up Benicio Del Toro... are you feelin' me?

Welp, now that flash of brilliance is over with... I had a really disturbing run-in with a squirrel today as I was having my usual Duck watch at lunch in the park. I was feeding the ducks my sandwich crusts (Do note, I am NOT advocating the non-eating of crusts. This is a habit for weak people and children. I love crusts, but ducks have to eat too, peeps) and a squirrel got allll up in my grill and would not leave me alone...

So I ran. Yes, I ran from a squirrel. Bitch chased me. He had the devil eyes. He was not stopping. It was the 'Duel' of small rodent vs. human interaction. So I pulled some fucking REVERSE PSYCHOLOGY on his ass. Yep, I wised up and chased him, that tubby motherfucker. And shit worked. He turned tail and ran away like the little pantywaist he was. Luckily nobody witnessed this little face off, but basically when it comes to coolness I am the equivalent of the kid who wears shorts in the dead of winter, and at school dances just spends the entire time running at full speed around the gym while 'We Didn't Start the Fire' plays, and then hopping up and down in the corner during 'Stairway to Heaven'. Sixteen and never been kissed. Sad stuff. But at least I won that fucking showdown.

It's like when you see a guy earnestly reading the ads for prostitutes posted in the phone boxes and you lock eyes and he looks away, clammy and ashamed, hands deep in pockets in the grossest way possible. When I'm REALLY feeling on, I put on my wooden leg limp, cross my eyes and put on my 'retarded Italian butcher' voice and kind of sing sad lullabyes as I stand and stare at them.... the creepy shit is when they're into it.

That said, easiest £20 I ever made!

Boom boom!

Day off tomorrow, lovelies. I hope to spend it drunk and composing dirty limericks...




Layyyydah foolz!