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| Pricks I've Met™ - Continues It's Journey at. . . .
http://www.evilweblog.info
Like a lot of others, I like to copy ideas (when they're a good one)
I've set up my own blog on my own webserver - with the ability for members of the public to comment and flame at their will.
This will contain my general thoughts - along with my (hopeful) blossoming creativity and handywork.
From here in - this blog is CLOSED - but will be kept alive for archival purposes.
© Scooter Rooter 2005
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| From The Fingers Of Scooter...
Seeing as everybody else is doing it - I may as well show off some pictures, besides they are often worth more than words ever can be.
I hereby warn you - some of these are pretty funky & others less enticing.
I bring you - ME! through the ages..... (well ok the past 2 years anyway)
AGH With Blond Hair! (and muscled) August 2001
I had 4 pints of guiness by the time this was taken. (December 2001)
This pimp be bitchin hot! My favourite pose - circa Jan 2002 (pre accident)
After 3 months rehabilitating - I gained 36KG this was in the midst of it (April 2002)
Lack of exercise lead to pneumonia - 3 weeks into it looking deathly pale. (May 2002)
Post Pneumonia - Still Fat. Taken in moms kitchen August 2002
October 2002 - I decided to exercise and get healthy - 10kg's lighter (with my gin-soaked ladies)
January 2003 28KG's lighter - Look at her breasts pushing against me!
Proud of my achievements January 2003
December 2004 - Happy,Healthy & 40KG lighter. With my gin-soaked buddies.
And that's about it for now. | | |
| This will be my final post for the year. Thank you to all who have read
over the past 18 months. I feel now is the time to move on with things.
I've harboured my feelings for too long a time and it's a good time now
to reflect and change for the better.
For now - I leave you with a twisted version of a classic.
Twas the night before Christmas, and back at my mansion;
My dog was balls deep, in young Scarlett Johansson
Three teenage runaways all chained to my bed,
Two sucked my tits, while the last gave me head;
The handcuffs were chafing, their collars on tight,
I warmed up the cattle prod for a long night.
A call from security disrupted my screwing;
An alarm had gone off, and some trouble was brewing.
I went to my monitor, scanned the estate.
The intruder was visible on camera eight.
A fat load of crap in a fuzzy red suit,
In a queer little sleigh with his bag full of loot.
Eight tiny reindeer the color of fawn;
This would be the last year they would shit on my lawn.
The hookers and runaways would just have to wait,
While I did what I did to protect my estate.
When I got to my parlor I saw Santa there;
My bodyguards had him strapped down to a chair.
They had beat him severely, they couldn't avoid it.
And Santa they said, well he rather enjoyed it.
"I came for your help," he told me with a tear;
"You're the only one who can save Christmas this year."
"We are so much alike, I know that much is true;
Since you also spread joy; just as much as I do.
I give everyone presents I don't ask to get paid
Is it so much to ask that I want to get laid?"
"A blumpkin! a donkey punch! the old Cleveland steamer!
Mrs. Claus is too old, and she won't let me ream her!"
I sympathized with the old guy this was true;
But there were some things (and some guys) that I just wouldn't do.
"I'll help the old dude" said a voice from behind me,
He looked over my shoulder and said, "Thank-you kindly!"
So, who would I thank for last minute salvation?
Why young Scarlett Johansson (from Lost in Translation)
Santa was thrilled and he did a quick dance
With a gleam in his eye and a tent in his pants.
She dropped to her knees and she spit on her hand,
As she undid his belt something happened, unplanned.
At the touch of her fingers he moaned and he farted;
And Santa was finished before he had started.
And Scarlett was literally covered in goo;
Like a young blade of grass in the fresh morning dew.
But more like a birthday cake covered in frosting;
Poor Santa collapsed the whole thing quite exhausting.
Scarlett licked her full lips and she said, "it's quite chalky."
"It's lucky for you that I'm into bukkake."
Well, Santa got up and he brushed off his suit,
As she licked the last drops of his seed off his boot.
Then Santa said, "Sorry, I guess one thing's clear:
It's that Santa should come more than one time a year."
But I heard him exclaim ere he drove out of sight,
Merry Christmas to all, and thanks for the bite.
(Special thanks to Scarlett Johansson for agreeing to be in this poem in return for promotional consideration.) | | |
| Greetings.
I've had this post on private for quite a while now,
deciding on whether I should "air my laundry" to complete strangers. As
I am at the stage of "I don't care what others think, or whether I hurt
them, even if they justifiably deserved it" I have decided to make my
thoughts public one last time...
One last time you say?
I've
decided I no longer wish to update this weblog/journal for the time
being. I've hit my limit on what I can personally divulge about my life
without it having repurcussions.. I've had enough of the repercussions,
and the fact some people take offence to what I may have written about
them. "Fuck them" you say? I hear you, but it's not so great when you
have to share a home with one of the people, who although deserving of
some courtesy and respect when it comes to dishing dirt, most certainly
takes a lot of things too seriously, and most definitely over-analyzes
everything.
So... one for the road, then it's goodbye .. for now.
A Long Short Story.
This person has been unbearable to live with over the past few
months since I told him I wasn't interested in pursuing anything with
him above and beyond a platonic friendship – making sarcastic quips,
mumbling things towards me and then shouting it at me when I ask him to
please repeat. The drinking has increased, and rapidly builds his moods
darker and darker each time. The stomping around the house is quite
disturbing, the “dropping” of things on the ground all the time, the
slamming of the fly screen doors and so on.
Last Thursday for me was the absolute pearler. He had been moody as
fuck all week, then last night seemed for once – relatively calm and
fine. We sat down to watch the latest Harry Potter – my phone rings, I
said he could keep watching as I’ll watch it another time, he does for
about 5 minutes while I take a survey call. Bam! Another call comes
through, he storms past me to the laundry – I start speaking to one of
my girls I haven’t seen in weeks about her hubby, and my new job – he
starts stomping around me, and (deliberately) mutters things under his
breath to try and get my attention . I go outside for a smoke and he
starts slamming things down on the table and making a general mess. I
stopped the phone call and said “whats up?” no reply “what is fucking
wrong now?” he stares at me – beer in hand on the staircase “nothings
wrong” then mutters something else .. I just said “fuck off” and he
proceeds to “drop” things upstairs on the floor – loudly. For the
remainder of the night he acted like a completely possessed child. I
came so close to turning around and putting his head through the wall
that I had to stop myself by walking away for some time.
The next morning, he comes into my room “sorry I was cranky last
night” - My reply was “I don’t care anymore” and haven’t said anything
since to him. And that is the god’s honest truth – I don’t care
anymore. I can’t live with the tension or the thought that I’m going to
wake up one night to only see him standing over me with a kitchen knife.
----
He decided that evening along with some courage (a few
beers) to clear the air, and proceeded to apologise profusely about his
actions and behaviour. I accepted it on the condition he seeks some
help, and sorts out his own problems.. I know this won't happen but at
least he knows where he stands as far as living in my home. I had a
mate of mine visit later that night (pre-organised) who ended up
staying because it was getting late and he'd been up for 20 odd hours.
He managed to bite his tongue and has done for most of this week. I
have noticed the past 2 days him slipping back into old habits. I
really have reached the end of a very long tether. I could be a cold
uncalculating cuntflap and kick his ass out at any moment, but in the
end where would that get me? besides personal satisfaction for a few
moments.
I know in the end, he is thinking of himself in the
majority, and certainly realised by me reaching this point the request
of him leaving would shortly follow if he continued the way he was....
-----
Last night another quip passed through his beer soaked
lips. "if you want to have people over for whatever you do in your own
room, it's only fair I can have **** around to take drugs and hang out"
Now, common courtesy aside, drugs and friends do not compare in my
mind. My stance on drugs (illegal or otherwise) is very much against,
even mary jane. This dates back to the night him and **** stayed up all
night "talking and smoking pot" much to my disgust the next morning to
find them outside on MY notebook with a pipe and bowl on the table.
Well, excuse me for being "unreasonable" by telling him I don't want
drugs in the house. I will not compromise on this matter, as yet again
they do not compare. If he wants to bring trade home and fuck his
brains out in the open plan bedroom, by all means - do so and i'll
happily leave the house for the night, and would expect the same.
Again, yet another reason why I am not going to be broken by this
person, I am being perfectly reasonable in this situation, he on the
other hand is being ridiculous.
--------
My last words are to him and anybody else who considers I am
being anything but level-headed – you have 2 choices. Shape up or ship
out, Consider this a wakeup call that you have finally found my
tolerance level, from herein there is no turning back time. I
will no longer stand for immature, erratic behaviour, outlandish
requests, or bad hygiene in a house I so dearly fought to obtain, and
that really is all I want to say on the matter.
Prick's I've Met - A True Story.
The End | | |
| How can anyone say this woman is anything but absolutely stunning.
I decided to download Gwens latest album on torrent to see if it was
worth getting - After the initial launch track "What Ya Waiting For"
All I can say is ... YES!
Eclecto-pop is probably a good terminology for this debut solo album.
Guitar, ragga, pop,rock,ballad,electronica. . it's all here. Whilst
Gwen Stefani isn't the best singer in the world, her girly cutesy
valley girl voice always puts a smile on my face. Plus the fact she is
of Italian blood makes her easy on the eye. The above is a screengrab
from the video clip which came on the single I bought.... Now to go and
buy the album!
S
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