Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

Hey,

this is a conversation. trust me

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

i need to get me some drugs so i can do this type of stuff

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

*eats another mushroom*….AND THEN ITS A NAZI!

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

nazi turd….HA

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

fuck me, i best mr blobby was a drug fueled halucination at first

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

then one day, as a cruel joke one of noel edmonds associates gets costume to make this and scare the shit out of edmonds by making him think his weird delusional pshycosis has manifested itself in the real world

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

kicks the drugs, looses his show, marries a fourteen year old and comes back with deal or no deal

‘//.Adventure… says:

lol

‘//.Adventure… says:

hes single

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

well i diddnt think he actually was married to a fourteen year old

‘//.Adventure… says:

lol

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

“fourteen you say?…does it squelch?”

‘//.Adventure… says:

hahaha

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

oh and the cockness was le terriblé!

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

but make a remark about 14 year old lady genitalia

‘//.Adventure… says:

yeah

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

hippocrates would be proud of you

‘//.Adventure… says:

dont be a hater just cause im the best

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

oh dont worry, i just hate the game

‘//.Adventure… says:

word playa

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

nigger jew?

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

nah, thats just a black mans perspiration

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

or womans

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

not gonna get caught out being sexist now

‘//.Adventure… says:

thats better

‘//.Adventure… says:

dont leave out the women

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

the sack bellied baby bleeders

‘//.Adventure… says:

like britney

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

oh no you diddnnt!

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

britney is like my girl, dawg

‘//.Adventure… says:

shes a hefer

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

she can do no-hoe-wrong

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

your arguement persuedes me so

‘//.Adventure… says:

duh

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

how eloquent and to the point you are

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

i could of just said “you are concise” but then i am not concise

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

or consice

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

dunno how to spell

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

or read

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

im doing pretty well

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

ethkhjkghjdf

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

ooh my buzz is leaving me

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

dghidifhsf

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

sadf

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

aafdaf

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

dasto jdgfdjslkgjerwhfidelcastroismymotherdfjkhety

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

find the secret message

‘//.Adventure… says:

hr

‘//.Adventure… says:

*hes not your momma

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

jdgfdjslkgjerwh fidelcastroismymother dfjkhety

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

red?

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

why red?

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

because i bleed prose

‘//.Adventure… says:

prose fo’ hoes

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

and men with beaks

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

the meek

‘//.Adventure… says:

awesome

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

oh god im gonna go to the shop

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

wait its probably closed

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

fuck everyone

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

we have no chocolate and nothing but water

‘//.Adventure… says:

thats good

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

no, no its not

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

i need my sugar based products to live

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

live a life of portly frustration

‘//.Adventure… says:

you work in woolies

‘//.Adventure… says:

why dont you buy sweets ther

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

i do, but i havent been today

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

and im not living in my place of work

‘//.Adventure… says:

should of stocked up

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

i did

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

stocked in my belly

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

my sweet sticky acid mass of love

‘//.Adventure… says:

thats disgusting

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

so is a childs squelchy vagina

‘//.Adventure… says:

………………………….

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

just making comparisons

‘//.Adventure… says:

yeah

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

sponge is soft

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

like kittens

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

but i wouldent use a sponge in the bath

‘//.Adventure… says:

why

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

because kittens are far better

‘//.Adventure… says:

right on

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

that series that dylan was in is out on DVD now

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

cant remember what it was called

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

him married to that woman

‘//.Adventure… says:

how do you like me or something like that

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

in the throws of suffocation

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

oh wait, sorry thats the show name?

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

err yeah

‘//.Adventure… says:

lol

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

god this song is wrong

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

it shows what is wrong with this new youth culture and world

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

“i think its time someone died, i need more drama in my life”

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

NO

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

just no

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

what is this terrible fixation with death and near death these idiots i seem to attract have?

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

the “emo kids” i talk to. “i cut my wrists” “why” “huh? i just did”

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

“kurt kobain is a legend man – he shot his own face off

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

mmmmmmMMMMM YEAH?

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

point being

‘//.Adventure… says:

why do you socialise with these fucktards

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

you find this man who sang beautiful throws of poetry over uncomprimising and self respecting music and you like him because he commited suicide

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

fuck you people! fuck you betty curse

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

fuck you middle class, white trash wankers

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

but still, the songs pretty funky

‘//.Adventure… says:

lol

‘//.Adventure… says:

his songs werent brillaint

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

some of them are good

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

he’s an over hyped stoner

‘//.Adventure… says:

yep

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

and steve coogans banging him laydee

‘//.Adventure… says:

along with the great like jim morrison and sclub7

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

his*

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

now wait

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

i cant have that

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

s club 7’s socio-political commentary is needed in this cruel anti-neighbourhood world

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

im glad theres no sense of community anymore

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

you walk into a neighbourhood watch area nowadays and this great sense of forboding comes all over me

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

its not because i feel like im being watched

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

its just i cant stand to think of what ill do if one of these backwards moronic titwanks comes anywhere near me

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

“i saw you drop that from my window”

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

“ok”

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

“well? hmmm, well, c;mon then mr toughy tough”

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

“what?”

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

“you know, pick it up!”

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

“no”

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

“fine have it your way *blows whistle and people start streaming out of their houses in army gear with submachine guns, even the childrens action men are carrying live rounds*

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

*dies and is unable to completel the tale*

‘//.Adventure… says:

lol

‘//.Adventure… says:

hurry up and write a book or something

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

what?

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

podcasts

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

books

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

smear tests

‘//.Adventure… says:

all of them

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

your literary gynacologist is now online!

‘//.Adventure… says:

lol

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

ill talk you through womb scrapes in my five minuite bi-weekly installments – so pull of the stirrups and get out that cutlery set!

‘//.Adventure… says:

cutlery

‘//.Adventure… says:

lol

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

well you have to use household object – but i will open up a shop for propper equipment and sterilisation equipment

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

but for the well to do mother with no time on her hands – we have help her get more than one thing done at a time

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

so make meals an investigation of the human body!

‘//.Adventure… says:

lol

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

warning – a small amount of squelching may occur

‘//.Adventure… says:

lol

Cockitty Cocklenob and the Pancreatic Cancers says:

god ian dury was amazing in so many ways i havent yet got verbs for

‘//.Adventure… says:

pretty much

Got A Sky That Looks Like Heaven

Got An Earth That Looks Like Shit

Hey, i’ve got my interview for my college tommorow. I plan on swanning in, looking cool and generally playing the part everyone else will be playing. It’s stupid, but still, I relish me innafectual, unimportant stupid remarks and ideologies i seem to throw up all over these things.

I suggest everyone listents to Eels – Electro Shock Blues, beautiful, just beautiful all over, in out and underneath.

CYAAAA

i should be getting good at this by now

A stride? Oh no no no, there isn’t one to hit. If there was I’d probably have run a mile by now. Doing things that actually go somewhere or achieve something is not my way. School – HA, Work – HA, Life – HA (bitterly so).

 So, again i reach this point, not far in, where i haven’t a thing to say. Well I guess i can permit myself to say i’ve been writing for a small website that takes any contribution whatsoever – so don’t worry there is no great novelist in me. *looks around this delapidated word cell* I think i prove my own point.

 Drinky – the booze drip. I’m of two minds about the infernal merryment liquid. I get happy, I do wrong, I get damned!

I refer now to some great Irish playwright – the name I forget, but i’m sure, my dear journal, you would know the name, being so intelligent. Anyway, this playwright was approached by Guiness to write its new slogan, “oooh, you’ll have to send a couple of crates round” he said. And Guiness obliged – providing the notorious drunk (a drunk since he was 8 they say) with two crates of bottled Guiness.

The next day, a few reprisentatives go round to his house, obviously to find all the bottles empty and strewn across the floor. Littered amongst these bottles was lots of strewn up bits of paper and emidst it all was our playwright, our drunkard. And he exclaimed “i’ve got it” passing a small piece of paper into one of the Guiness folks hands.

On it, plain and simple was written: “Guiness, it makes you drunk”.

Exactly. True to all alcahol, beers, spirits, wines and so on.

This leads me to my ultimate question of the night – not do i want to drink, but do I want to be drunk. Lending bias from past form – no. Simple and easy. I do not want to roll around exclaiming stupid dreams mixed in with torrents of obsenities. Will I be drunk again? Most definately.

A shame.

Toodlepips.

At A Loss

Again I’m back, with nothing for you and nothing left in me. I’m trying to find myself I guess, and I don’t know where to start. I think it’s drinking that I have to ‘tackle’.

tackle – not the word you think, I’m not an alcoholic, I’m no where near – I’m just a dumb drunk. I don’t feel aware so much, I say stupid things to the insanest of people. I never want to discuss with people my hope to become something of worth. But I do. And I rabble incessantly about it too. I don’t want to play music for music’s sake, nor try and formulate jokes for that reason either – I know this sounds disastrous, but I’d love to teach.

teach – not a classroom or lecture hall. Informing people through a passion, whether it be hate for establishment and institutionalised racism/sexism and so on – brought through in some way which I just can’t conceive let alone imagine right now. I don’t want to be Bill Hicks, the wonder boy at 17 knocking people down with penetrating lines and lyrics – I just want to know I’m at a stage where I’m living to attempt enlightenment in myself and if possible, the people around me.

The People Around Me – I can’t tell anyone, I feel like a cock. I work at Woolworth’s for Christ’s sake, I stack shelves, keep my mouth shut and take the money. I’m not destined for anything else. I can’t write lyrics like Jello Biafra, speak like those so well informed as the Noam Chomskys and Mark Thomas’s of the world. I feel like the idiot professing facts and fancies that interest him, to people who are more interested at how I found this out, than what it means – and the stupid delight of it. So fucking what I watch stupid game shows to learn, watch and listen to history lectures and take my facts second hand from books rather than search them out.

I wish I knew what to do.

I found a place that does open mic nights that lead to slots in shows…but I’m just not that guy, I wish I was.

If you say a word I will cut you.

fuck it

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Anoy the above person.

Well seems some news has happened today – which actually reached me. This abortion thing? yeah. The archbishop of Westminster saying we should re-think the abortion limit – obviously wanting it shortened – he's a christian don't you know.

fuck it, lets talk about me – the great ramble, the fantasticly splendid inwardness of it all. Goddam i love being me, i love pitying me, i love being the worst of the lot! my god  i work down the mines 48 hours a day, and i paid the mine owner for pleasure of working there and i came home to sleep in a rolled up piece of tarpaulin in the middle of the road, only to be woken up 36 hours earlier to go back to work again, but not before im sliced in two by a breadknife. FUCK YEAH.

I wish i had the grace wit and intelligence to be a real full blown hero – to speak truths that until now were unspeakable, but you know i'd rather whine and find myself worse off – thats why i only drink in wine bars, the one place where i know not owning a lexus means poverty. I wish i was even humble enough to lay down in black and white what it is to be, the non-existant feeling that must plague millions, no billons of us – staring into glowing squares. Placing out faces on every picture and voice over every word.

Here i can be everyone, FUCK YEAK. lets delude myself. lets give a false importance to what essentially is a sack of meat and bones.

fuck it – it still isnt true.

Hello

Eve, again i've been spending all my time questioning the unanserable question – no, not why Jim Davidson is funny – but Death. mainly in this manner:

…Death?

Which doesn't give me alot to work with but it can enduce a few cold spasms.

Anyway, what have i done? nothing, nothing at all. England are going through in the next stages…woo? And some rapper is going to "dis" David Cameron on his next album because he said rap music contributes to violence.

i could say that listening to the smiths contributes to liberilist views and sociological outlook – but well, i don't know anything about that in any way whatsoever.

nothing to tell, blardy blar blar.

What's that song on the radio at the moment, i always seem to walk past and catch some horribly stupid, piss-drivled ass lyric – "i might as well shoot him, just get it over with", i mean fuck me what ever happened to the beauty in metaphors and not being so literal all the time.

anyway, thats enough, cya.

ants on fire

Hey, it's getting increasingly harder to think of what to write here you know. I'm just blank by the time I get home. monologue isn't my style. I like to talk to people – that’s not to say I’m polite or in any way interest-ed/in but it's better than this.

I worry about how I remember so little of what I did today, another 24hrs slipped by. but then again I’m more pissed off at how my ipod seems to be taking a long time to show up as connected. is this a que for a nice long "injustice of death and the passage of time" rant? I guess it is, but I’ll let it pass for now, because this something we all deal with. and I find it a shame some decisions cant be made for certain people – I’m talking about you noel dicklord Edmonds.

but yeah, lets lay back and think about the present. I think I need some more drugs, turbenagro and Henry Rollins ain't doing shit to me right now. How far in am I? and I haven’t yet found a subject – which means to me I haven’t found a way of ending.

I need to: get some more bill hicks downloaded before I go to sleep, charge my fucked up frozen ipod, eat something that is healthy (least doable) and end this stream of wank.

couples, couples piss me off. obviously you can't write about this subject without being a hypocrite, so lucky I am one goddamit. it's just this in your face inaccessibility they have. you're stood around talking and it's you, your mates and the couples. and of course you and your mates can soon become the couples (with each other? why not!) whereby all this contempt for those entangled masses dissolves. I've done it and countless others have too – don't worry.

but why, why can't I keep away from a girlfriend for more than five second when in a group? holding hands seems to impose this locked togetherness, making the two in no-way detachable. Talking to two people as one is shit in the most part. one addresses you back while the other is silent and has their face pressed against the cheeks of the other. prompting an apparently long overdue kiss.

but I can't help not do it. well I can, but why would I when there’s fresh pussy right there, maan!

it's hard for the couples – falling in love is a beautifully insular experience, and staying separate – forcing boundaries and rules to save face in front of friends feels false and wrong, but must be done. how many times have we heard (mainly ourselves) moaning, "where's tom,dick and Harry? oh over and harrydicktoms! again! they must hate us"; there's no understanding across the board, and I guess non at all is better than any, because no feeling can get trodden on.

nice work.

cya.

Asylum

Evening.

What do you reckon to TV shows about the bible, directed by Quentin Tarintino and Guy Ritchie or in some over the top pop culture style? I think it would be a great idea myself. Here's a few things they could pitch:

Pimp My Ark with Noah as the main modification technician. The format is obvious, Noah goes around with his team tripping out old wrecked arks. New lick of paint, maybe some hot airbrushed pictures of god with his tits out – who know where Noah will go! Tim Westwood will still narrate, just because there's no-one worse I can think of. 

CSI:Bethlehem Someone causing a ruckus down the temple…on a Sunday! What are the money lenders to do? The CSI:Bethlehem crack-squad are on the case, with fast paced plots and dodgy, I mean 'edgy' camera angles covering up the complete lack of believable dialogue and storyline!

Cross Talk! Jesus Christ’s midday chat show, where all his guests are nailed up right next to him for a good natter. Expect shitarse celebrities like Cobol – the squeaky voiced comedian, Mangy and Ming – that pair of seemingly affable love birds building a nest of public love and of course any BB contestant you might hope to die. Frequented by audience banter, stone-ins and cookery ideas only a resurrection could stop it!

I Do It Because I Love You A real-time gritty drama about the aftermath of Jesus’ birth. Back home as the small saviour grows, a bitterly enraged step-father's menace grows. Heavy drinking every night takes its toll and one night, when Jesus is sat with his father, watching the tapestry there is a mumble heard from the next room. "get out" Joseph tell Jesus, his son follows orders, standing out in the back-garden.

all he can make out is "You cunting bitch, you fucking praying to that bastard again, you twatty cocksmasher ill fucking kill you…"

I'm done for now

night

Number 2 (ha)

How's in going bitch?

really? cool, smooth. Yeah anyway. Wot I did today….nothing.

I worked, which I did with a major amount of lacklustre contempt. I didn’t really, I just got on with it and thought about other things – which leads me to question what I thought about…I’m not really sure. I never really am.

I probably pondered about a girl named Louise, and about how we talked on the internet at least once a day only a few weeks back, but how we hardly talk now. It's a shame, I had a major crush on her. God I think I hate that word "crush", sounds too enthused for my liking. Grabbing onto her and following her around, until ivy smothered her so hard she literally is crushed. But maybe I don't like it because it describes how I felt so aptly?

I don't know.

But she was cool – is cool, when I get to talk to her. I'm not really "into", "digging", "getting on the funky fly-by with" her anymore. Mainly because we haven't talked. We used to work weekends together, but then she left because it wasn't "fun" anymore – at first I took this as a major insult, but then I found out her reason for saying this was because we didn’t share much time in work together after Christmas. Being separated allot had its toll apparently, whether this was kindness or truth I was touched nonetheless.

I never had a chance anyway – Louise was a year older than me, I had a tendency to make a fool of myself and she was stunning. And so balanced too, the right things in the right quantities – humour, intellect, humility, good looks….everything I would of liked to have seen in myself to certain degrees. Not who I would like to be of course – because wanting to be your partner doesn't work, and sounds like some creepy Freudian tale.

But there is something highly admirable in Louise, that makes "trying it on" with her impossible, because risking her friendship is undoable. Getting back to the daily chats is far more important than anything else.

and I guess that was work today…but tomorrow of course could be wacky and spontaneous.

night night

off to a screaching halt

Hello, i am liam – or laim (lame).

 I'm keeping this for no real reason, i don't do much and much doesn't get done so meh and all that bollocks. Normally when i start these things, of which there has been a few, i normally give myself some things to stick by – rules and so on. Like on one i wanted to act like a complete prick most of the time, and being me i successfully did, wasn't very hard.

 see i always start these with some terrible bravardo, thinking that i'm funny/witty/subversive and most importantly "cool". But with the aid of trying my hardest to be myself we shall find out that i'm not. so who am i? i'll get one of those 101 question things and fill it out or something but for now i can't be bothered – i've got to go out and seek fun and exiting things to do. so i can list them here for only me to see and go "wow, i was a twat" in the future. then my friends will stumble over its dorment carcass and say "wow, he always was a twat!".

I've used that before in other blogs.

 Bye for now, i'll get something soon