I'm going to live the next life in the same world as my body. I'm going to conquer something stunningly simple. There's going to be a tiny house on a forgettably pleasant street. Everything is going to make sense every day. Anger is going to lie down and beg love's forgineness. Love will forgive everything but itself. And when the moon lifts its face it's going to rain its amber sorrow over the silence.

I bought a guitar on Friday. This is no ordinary, straight out-of-the-box, ready to play thing. Nope, it’s knackered. I bought a knackered guitar? Why the buggeration? Well, because I wanted the challenge of fixing it up. It has no electronics, no bridge, no scratch plate and the machine heads are really loose. The neck is in good shape, but the paintwork on the body is shoddy. I plan on upgrading as much as I can and kee...

I inspired myself. It was so weird, looking at a forum topic, named “what’s your passion?” And being inspired by it. Well, I shall tell you my passion: Shaving. I know it doesn’t seem like it, when my face is all fuzzy, but I do enjoy a good shave. Usually, I like to keep a wee goatee and shave the rest. I also shave other parts of me, but you don’t really need to know that, so forget I said that. What could impassion me...

There are some subjects I stay away from. I avoid them like the plague. Politics and religion are the things I steer clear of. Earlier this week, I commented on a quote by Oscar Wilde. I like most quotes I’ve seen from him, but the danger is that they are taken out of context. I’m not sure if this was in or out of context, but the quote was “every sinner has a future every saint has a past”. I actually quite like this quo...

I vigorously dislike it when you give someone advice, and they just don’t take it. You know, I gave some really good advice. I was kind about it, but it was just ignored. I can’t rant about it here without giving it away, but fucking hell, really? You know what else I dislike? Seeing computer terms mis-abbreviated. I don’t care if that’s a word, I’m using it. I saw a CD-R, and on it was printed, “700 Mb”. Really? Seven hu...

So, I watched Disney’s Frozen tonight. I loved it and now I want to read the fairy tale on which it was based. Normally, I shy away from adaptations because I think “well, write your own bloody story!” But this one was great. Singing and dancing and cute cartoon females, what could go wrong? Nothing at all. A few times I nearly cried. Of course, my emotions have been a little wonky lately. I’m not saying why, but it doesn...

Goodness, I’m such a caveman. Or perhaps that should be cavekitty. Whatever. I’ve just nommed a can of meatballs in tomato sauce, using a mini combat knife as cutlery. I couldn’t get the ones in gravy, which is a pity because I prefer those ones. Still, tomato is nice enough. Fills a hole, which is really all one can ask. Whoo! I’m going back to college. I’ll be wholeheartedly honest, it’s a prospect that excites me and a...

I stroke my beard,am I weird? Well you have to be weirdto wield a beard!Like a Lord,I strut about with a sword.Am I a Lord? No, but I have a sword!A bacon sandwich,I eat at Nantwich.I have a stitch,Oh, bloody sandwich!I’m an ordinary man,eating a sandwich,but I didn’t planon going to Nantwich.I wanted a beer,but there wasn’t one here,so I went to Nantwichand ate a sandwich. Now off I goto drink a beerwith a queerand say “...

I’m sitting here, watching a film called It Might Get Loud. If you’ve not seen it, it’s a documentary about the guitar. Well, that was its aim, but it seems to have turned into a bit of a jam with Jimmy Page, Jack White and Edge. I love how Jimmy and Jack are so perfectly matched. They’re what I’d call natural guitarists. Edge is good in has own way, but not as good as Jack or Jimmy. Jack and Jimmy together, in concert, w...

I remember when I first read a Maya Angelou poem. I was literally awestruck. I was in high school and we were studying poetry in English class. We studied Norman MacCaig, William Shakespeare, Emily Dickinson and few others. Maya Angelou wasn’t one of them, actually. I was on the Internet one day after school and was looking poetry up on the web, when I stumbled across one of hers. A few years later, I saw her on the TV an...

My legs curled around me,my arms stretched out a little,a can of beer beside me.Wishing I had an axolotl.Cute wee things,what happiness they brings,A salamander in half-evolutionwhich makes my head do a revolution.I often wonder about prostitution:Is it bad,or am I mad?Thinking about it, it is the constitution.At least of my land,all entitled to a job,whether that be blowing Bob,or constructing by hand.I’m tired,so I’m go...

Emotions are addictive,Sometimes not predictive,Wait, emotions predict you?No, you should wear a shoe.This poem was meant to be serious,But it seems to have taken a turn,that wasn’t even a rhyming couplet,nor was that.Not all poems have to rhyme,But if they do, you’re gonna have a good time,It’s all about diction,Maybe prediction.Whatever,Forever,Seems that longSince bong.I’ve never taken a bong,So long!

Hello Kitty hair bobbles, a torch, an arm thingy with a magnifier on it, sticks o’ RAM, rose quartz (raw and unpolished), solder, an amplifier module, various wires and a clock. That is what lies upon my bedside table. Most people just put the essentials, whatever they be, there, but I tend to throw all manner of crap there. Whatever I’m working on at the time, really. At the moment, I’m stripping laptops for selling, hen...

The man ate a sandwich,He snacked and smiled,He ate that sandwich,But then he choked,Poor dude, On a bit of bacon, he croaked.The woman knitted, She knitted a sweater,Then she got up,And she flitted.Made a cuppa tea,Now she’s D. E. A. D.Two ordinary deaths, it seems,But little do people know,It was all for show.

I don’t mind people farting, but I’m sitting here like a terrorist. By which I mean that I’m sitting with my t-shirt covering my face and can scarcely be identified. This is not good. I want one day without someone farting. Yeah, you read this right, I’m writing a musing about farting. Fart fart, you think you’re smart,But really I want a horse and cart,To takeYou away and quell the smell,One moreFart and that’ll be my de...