The Tourist
14th September 2002, 19:26
Well I'll be making regular comments here, hopefully real reflections on life, and probably occasional bits of blabber and poetry and sayings and stuff that I like.
The Tourist
18th September 2002, 15:51
Dark Derek Lam
R I P
Hail Mary Hail Mary
Rubba Dub Dub
45 W.P.M
Keep in touch
We slide
SLY GUY
Get the edge
I never copied no one
No one
NO ONE
ON A BAD DAY WE DANCE
G C G C Gm C A A/B E F C Cm
Theories, complaints against Oman
Around the world (exageration)
Miss spellings
"how convenient" - how cute
Only in smallness
SMALLNESS
Who here loves?
?
?
The Tourist
18th September 2002, 15:54
Life in a Glass House - Radiohead
Once again, I'm in trouble with my only friend
She is papering the window panes
She is putting on a smile
Living in a glass house
Once again, packed like frozen food and battery hens
Think of all the starving millions
Don't talk politics and don't throw stones
Your royal highnesses
Well of course I'd like to sit around and chat
Well of course I'd like to stay and chew the fat
Well of course I'd like to sit around and chat
But someone's listening in.
Once again, we are hungry for a lynching
That's a strange mistake to make
You should turn the other cheek
Living in a glass house
Well of course I'd like to sit around and chat
Well of course I'd like to stay and chew the fat
Well of course I'd like to sit around and chat
But someone's listening in.
The Tourist
18th September 2002, 16:42
My approximate route when I travel around the world
England > Wales > Scotland > Northern Ireland > Ireland > France > Spain > Portugal > Italy > Germany > Belgium > Netherlands > Denmark > Sweden > Norway > Finland > Russia > Eastern Europe > Turkey > Middle East (not too sure tho) > Egypt > Algeria > Tunisia > Other African countries > South Africa > Madagascar > India > Bangladesh > China > Japan > Thailand > Malaysia > Indonesia > Papea New Guinea > Australia > New Zealand > Chile > Argentina > Brazil > Peru > Venezuela > Mexico > USA > Canada
Hope.......
The Tourist
18th September 2002, 17:00
Rupert Murdoch - by me
Melting into the leaves
on the forest dance floor
For hopeless hammers
Rocking back and forth
The camouflage planet rests in the sand
Dancing fleas steal beasts and trees
Agent Smith was right to feel
Cross-eyed tragedy
The doctors laughed a snake hose laugh
The end was planned on dust
Put you in a poison bath
Sung to sleep with nettled throats
The sound of the misty plateau
Echoes through sanity
Mosquito needles search for prey
Seeking secret families
Call your glow-eyed reasoning
Or reek of second chances
Rest in leaves while children sing
And Rupert Murdoch dances
The Tourist
21st September 2002, 19:37
The pounding triumph,
Epic success,
of Black Dog,
Those talented fingers,
STRUMMING
So harshly picking of strings one by one
By one by one
BLACK DOG
The Tourist
26th September 2002, 16:58
If I could sum up, in just 1 word, how I feel about hotdogs, it would be: Smoking kills, and radiation stinks ™
But when I become the first person to climb Mount Everest I’ll tell them all, “DANNY IS THE CHAMPION,” coz at the end of the day it’s yeast he’s interested in. As a matter of fact, I think you’d make a mighty fine clogmaster if only you knew left from right (which tart is mine?).
Winkles, willies, todgers, WHATEVER you wanna call them, they are destroying my reputation amongst fellow queen bees. SHINE ON!?!?!?
Dodge this <shoots their arses all the way to Yavin> trinkle trinkle.
Stained because you looked another way
That’s not the way I see it
It’s just another laughing matter
But some just like to scream
Stop the laughter
Stop the laughter
Keep me here beneath the sea
So I can’t hear the screams
Strum your fingers ‘till they bleed
And laugh at them as if they tease
What am I until I feel
Envy and regret
Coz finding targets isn’t easy
I’m chasing them like fire
It’s the pain of trying to keep sane
That keeps on driving me insane
I cannot see the cockpit, mum
I cannot see the clouds
I have a shrine that’s full of stones
Only room for one of us
Only me alone
I dance
I dance
Feeling alone in a shelter of bones
Laugh at them because they cry
The Tourist
6th October 2002, 17:27
When you have an endless headache, which pulses relentlessly within the deepest caverns of your mind, pounding and pounding like the one-armed drummer of Def Leppard, and refusing to leave you alone, do not toss a pill to the back of your throat and seize it with water, which will inevitably carry it down into the fiery abyss of your stomach, dousing it in burning acid that will bring the pill intense pain and suffering as it dissolves into the medicinal atoms that will be carried down the zooming blood tunnels of your body, scared like a child being forced onto a roller coaster that does simply far too many loop-the-loops for comfort, until the remedy reaches your cockpit, your capital, your brain, releasing the stress and tension of the headache, so that you lie back relaxed and satisfied by the new, pristine comfort of your mind, because if you do do this then, despite theories of pills being inanimate objects, you are, in fact, being just as unjust by eating the pill as you would be by beating a child or shooting an animal, because PILLS DO HAVE FEELINGS, no matter what anyone says, so instead, if you have a headache, you should really just sit down and think of the jewel-blue currents of a sun-soaked sea, slowly moving over the crust of the earth, which hangs in the midst of a chaotic universe, of which we are oblivious to its anarchic battles and quarrels between its other occupants, who are just as oblivious to us humans, despite the fact that Mr Ishmael Izrus thought, as he peered out of his cabin window across the plains of the colourful, Californian morning of July 5th 1979, that he had seen a flying saucer emerge from behind the clouds, which were typical cumulus clouds, as observed by Maggie Zenipichi, a keen photographer of skies and horizons, who had arrived to see the palm trees and surfers of the Western coast of the USA after leaving a demanding life in Tokyo, where Shigeru Miyamoto, creator of The Legend of Zelda, had once picked his nose while he thought no one was looking, only to find that his boss, Pacman (of Nirvana fame) had spotted the indecent act and had grabbed a scythe with which to slaughter the unsuitable employee, although Shigeru had already performed other indecent acts, such as stealing that same scythe earlier on in the month, reaping seeds and raping sheep, so much so that the scythe was blunt, more blunt than the pencil with which I write these words, so that when Pacman brought down that curved blade upon Shigeru, no damage was dealt, and our nose-picking hero had enough time to pull out a samurai sword, which he plunged into Pacman’s yellow-chested torso, ending the evil Empire that had scourged the galaxy for so long, bringing nipples and happiness to a professional polar bear, who wandered aimlessly around the frozen wastes of what was once Egypt, but had now worn the consequences of a third ice age, its pyramids shimmering with their thick layer of ice, reflecting the pale conscious of the blue moon, which was now occupied by the humans, who had abandoned their frozen home, Earth, long ago, but who still enjoyed conflict, for humans were made to fight, particularly in the case of the often-ignored Blair Witch, which played some nifty guitar solos when in a good mood, yet it could not reach the standards of Jonny Mnemonic, Jonny Longstockings or Jonny Greenwood, who we will ignore for the time being, but let’s not forget, Hitler was never proved to be gay, yet no stains were found on the bed he shared with his mistress, so most scientists will agree that Mount Erebus will kill us all in about 20 seconds or so, so I’d better make the rest of this quick, or else you’ll never find out the true meaning of the word “thorax,” which is, by the way, only found on inanimate objects such as swordfish, which was a damn fine movie in terms of representing the African hacking community in a fresh, original way, including the addition of “oohs” and “aahs”, in which no woes were shared, apart from that of the third rock from the moon, which is, of course, lateral thinking at it’s best, although some might say Oasis suck Yoda more than they really admit to, which is okay if you’ve got a bible beside you, but if all you’ve got is a Mitsubishi motorcycle on full throttle, well that’s okay too, but just try to keep a high profile in this world of beetles, bottles, readers and riders, for everything is nothing, when all you’ve got is yourself, and all they’ve got is Earth, and remember, above all else, that the difference between a dog and a duck, is that one of them is both the same as the other one, and, boys and girls, don’t forget to wash your mouth as if it were a chimney full of black soot, all those words we wished we hadn’t said, that sour taste of a mistake, like the true black milk of a terrorist, washed into the water, making a swirling pattern so kaleidoscopic it hypnotises you, until you wish you were good at playing bass guitar, just so you could prove how good you are with children, who are, we must remember, the people of the future, the council of imminence, the potential slayers, while we remain the crazy no-ones of the past, who never really could talk, but we could move, move, move like slugs up a hill, tracing our ancestry up to top of the tallest family redwood tree, which we obviously already cut down for paper and fuel, because we slay, slay, slay like humans with no humanity, which, as Alanis Morissette pointed out in 1996 or whenever it was, is very ironic, just like that tale about the last of the Native Martians, who died out due to the frequent failure of the foetus, which can be aborted because it doesn’t have a life yet, because, humans need to live to have a life, unlike Mr Blair, who sings and chuckles and plays that stupid oboe all day long, while we all write biographies about the lives we never had, just so we can be safe with the knowledge that bricks build homes and tricks build hope, while rope can hang from the highest entity, but it’s the length that counts, although ropes may hang up in space, and they may hangover after beer, but the point is simply that there isn’t enough room on this battlefield of a planet for all of us, so get out while you still can, you damn dirty apes! And that concludes today’s lesson, class. GET OUTT>>
The Tourist
8th October 2002, 11:22
My French coursework:
Pour mes vacances j’aime aller dans les pays chaud ou dans des pays avec des villes culturelles. J'adore l'aventure et le voyages intéressants. Je n'aime pas les endroits avec du mauvais temps. Aussi je n'aime pas les pays qui sont trop semblables à l’Angleterre. J’adore l’été, mais quelques endroits sont trop chauds.
Mes vacances dernières étaient au Portugal en avril 2001 avec mon père, ma mère, mon frère et mes grandsparents. Nous y avons voyagé en avion pendant la nuit. Les vacances duré une semaine et on est resté à l’Hotel Tanit.
L’aéroport était très animé et on a dû attendre trois heures jusqu’à ce que l’avion décolle. Le vol était très mouvementé, mais il durait seulement une heure. L’aéroport au Portugal était assez accueillant, mais il était un peu sale. On a pris un autobus à l’hôtel. L’hôtel était très grand, mais aussi il était très calme, parce qu’on est arrivé à trois heures du matin.
Le lendemain j’ai pris le petit déjeuner. Puisque il était très chaud dehors je suis allé dehors nager dans la piscine. Pourtant il faisait trop froid. Puis je suis allé à la plage et j'ai marché sur les falaises. Il y avait une belle vue de la mer. Plus tard il y avait une comédie musicale à l'hôtel la nuit. C’était très drôle.
Pendant la semaine je suis allé avec ma famille à quelques endroits culturels dans le pays. Aussi, on est allé dans quelques restaurants. Les repas étaient très délicieux et les serveurs étaient amicaux. J'ai bien joué au tennis avec mon père et j'ai fait une promenade sur la plage. J'ai rencontré quelques portugais dans une vieille ville de la campagne, et j'ai visité un dock. Après avoir Je suis allé aux jardins publics. Ils étaient très jolis et colorés. À mon avis je pense que le Portugal est un pays très beau à visiter, mais on a dû acheter de l’eau en bouteille parce que l'eau du robinet n'avait pas bon goût. Aussi, quelquefois le soleil était trop chaud.
Les vacances idéales pour moi serait un voyage aventureux dans un pays très différent de Angleterre. Je voudrais rencontrer des indigènes, et voir de beaux paysages. Le temps serait chaud et ensoleillé, mais pas trop humide.
Dans l'avenir je veux aller aux Etats-Unis d'Amérique parce que ça semble être un pays vraiment magnifique avec beaucoup de villes intéressantes, particulièrement New York et Los Angeles. J'espère voyager autour de monde avec mes copains même si c’est très cher.
The Tourist
18th October 2002, 11:57
It stops right here,
End of the line,
Where runners feed,
And angels die.
The Tourist
21st October 2002, 13:24
Today my Irish cousin read my fortune with tarot cards. Apparently next Summer I'll meet a lover while travelling. I have previously been thinking of visiting Iceland in the Summer. I don't know why, but there's something tempting about it. I know hardly anything about it so that makes it more an interesting place to go to.
Anyways, my cousin also said I could achieve anything I want if I push forward with it, but that I have so many different things that I want to do that I'm going to have to make a lot of careful decisions before I try to succeed in something. Interesting.
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