Archive for the ‘RANDOM’ Category

AbSoRptIon IntO thE mElody oF aByss


The Scenario: one night while the ticking of my wall mounted clock was lingering around the 3:00am mark, a time when most humans are sleeping, I found myself lying in my bedroom in total darkness, listening to Simon & Garfunkel’s Sparrow, and it was in the midsection of this song when I had, what can only describe as, a diluted Inner body experience of sorts.

The Song: For me there is only one way to absorb the sounds that a song has to offer and that’s with the eyes closed, an empty mind, and using a set of ear phones to play the beast straight to the brain as if the artist or band is nestled inside your skull with instruments and vocals playing out from within. Be it vinyl, tape, cd or mp3 it’s always the same, you get to hear the music as it was intended, with no outside noise pollution. slight sounds that seem meaningless in the open air now linger in the mind of all eternity, every bit of the song can be dissected and all instruments and vocals can be heard and fully appreciated.

Who will love a little Sparrow?
Will no one write her eulogy?
“I will,” said the Earth,
“For all I’ve created returns unto me,
From dust were ye made and dust ye shall be.”

The I,B,E Of Sorts: I was lying horizontal, staring into the back of my eye lids, the darkness I was witnessing was endless, a vast and gloomy nothingness without boundaries or obstructions of any kind, as the song continued to play on I began to look deeper into the murky abyss and that’s the moment it all got a little bit strange.

Even though I knew I was static and still within the confinements of my room, I had the sensation of high paced movement, that movement taking me straight up and into the darkness as if I was being absorbed into my own mind, leaving behind my physical being and riding the mind’s eye on a journey into the unknown. This strange sensation lasted around 30 seconds until i brought it to an abrupt end. I fired open my eyes to find myself still horizontal in my blackened room with he next song (Benedictus) about to start.

While in this state I had no thoughts nor did anything stand out, it was like being in a black hole with nothing to offer the mind, no faces, creatures, objects, not even a single lonely structure of any kind. Throughout the static movement I knew all i had to do was peel my vision blockers open and the bizarre state would end leaving me to ponder the last two minutes forty-nine seconds while absorbing the remaining eleven tracks.

When YOU close your eyes do you shut down? or keep looking?

F. Scott Fitzgerald: In a real dark night of the soul, it is always three o’clock in the morning, day after day.


Lost & Found


One minute I was in Dawson & Kalv’s new river side flat sinking pre-match snake bites the next I found myself face down in a 8ft fenced confinement, the reason behind this, a message on my phone saying “match rained off” and a failed attempt at scaling the fence to a hidden structure which lies just outside the entrance to flat.

Laughing at my own mishap i picked myself from the moss-covered ground and begin to scan the surrounding. The first thing i seen was the reason I climbed the fence in the first place, a small boarded up house, I made my way towards what looked like the main entrance and begin my search for a way in, after checking every door and window I came to the conclusion there is no way to breach the unknown structure.

That’s when I decided to turn my attention to some kind of outhouse situated right near the wooden fence that got me here in the first place, the door was already off the hinge so I thought to myself, why not? and with a slight caution entered into the unknown. These photographs below were what I confronted with.

After scanning the decaying mess i set my sights to escape and the 8ft fence, Roker and more liquid intoxication was required. Upon climbing back up I was met by around 7 or 8 people walking towards me, quite normal you may think to yourself, well you would be wrong as they were all wearing small circular glasses with black lenses, They looked like a scene from the matrix or more likely by the way they were dressed, a batch of Gallagher impersonators.

After drunken words were exchanged I somehow managed to commandeer a set of this shades from one of the pack and proceeded to  send the fence to flat and escape to my freedom, freedom being anywhere that added cold beer to a pint glass.

PARTY LION aka The Real Gallagher Imposter with the Shades…..

– Party Lion Or Gallagher? UNKNOWN –

Pumpkin Head Of Sorts.


– The photo was not edited or tampered with in any way –

I woke with a reptile behind the eyes, my mouth wasn’t living and my pockets resembled that of an empty vessel. The Reason behind this, A night out on the liquid funk in Sunderland city center.

The first task of the day was battle the desert mouth with a brilliantly pre-planned glass of stock tap water and orange juice mixture. After the intake i reached for my mobile device to plot the day ahead, upon setting a plan in motion i decided to check my photo’s from the night before, Flicking through, most of them end up a mixture of either nothing or a complete blurred mess, indecipherable to any human eyes, even 20/20 vision would fail to unlock the maze that was my snake bitten, finger to camera movement from that night, That’s until i noticed the strange pumpkin head like creature in the photo above.

This photo was the only one that bared any resemblance to human form, And I believe PUMPKIN HEAD to be one of two people, it’s either Ant or Sirm, Looking closer three figures can clearly be seen within the confinements of this photograph and for me the key to unlocking the true identity of this disfigured night lurker is the T-Shirt, who owns this black scripted t-shirt? if it is you, inform me at once and reveal the man beneath the mask…. Mr Pumpkin Head.

I’m gonna take you where your body will lie
I’m gonna take you there, she said
I’m gonna show you where your life will end
This curse I cast, you’re Pumpkinhead

Keep away from Pumpkinhead
Unless you’re tired of living
His enemies are mostly dead
He’s mean and unforgiving

The Beast


Around five month ago while out in the town participating in liquid intoxication i was handed a booklet by MAWSY, at the time my eyes had a raw hint of booze within them making the text undecipherable, so the booklet entered my rear pocket and left my mind. Upon returning home the booklet went straight into a draw where it has remained until tonight hidden in total darkness, that is until i unearthed it and absorbed it’s strange religious content.

 – The following extracts are from that very booklet –

This world is heading for a certain future. Did you know that there is a man who will one day take his place as the head of all governments and nations? The bible predicted this would happen thousands of years ago, and calls him “the Beast”. This man will be so aggressive that he will conquer those who refuse to submit to him. He will be so wicked that he will be given power by the devil himself, and speak great blasphemies against God. He will be so admired that people will make an image of him, and worship it. He will be so proud that he will demand to be worshiped as God, and the world will worship him (Revelation 13:1-8). People will be forced to take his mark on their forehead, or their right hand, and if they don’t take the mark they will not be able to buy or sell anything (Revelation 13:16-18).

The Devil has concealed this from many people, by getting them to treat it as a Joke. A pop group called “Iron Maiden” sang a song about it, and the lyrics went like this: “666 the number of the Beast, the one for me and you.” They were deceiving people into taking the mark when it comes! Others have worn the 666 on their hats or their clothes, and some have even had it tattooed on their bodies. The date 6/6/06 has been a day that numerous people have specially chosen to get married on.

The Devil is preparing people for the mark, because it is coming very soon.

The bill on ID cards in UK has already been passed by both the House of Commons, and the House of Lords. At one time they were going to make ID cards compulsory by the year 2010, but opposition has stopped them. Whenever they do it, it will only take its ID chip to be linked to other computer records to control every purchase, and withdrawal of cash, so that we won’t be able to buy or sell anything without it, and we will almost be there. The ID card may not be the mark of the beast, but it is a stepping stone towards it. For the first time in human history, the possibility of such a thing as the mark becoming a reality in the foreseeable future, is with us. It is only a small step for a ruler to rise in Europe, and to transfer this ID information, with his mark, from the card to the back of the hand, or the forehead, which will avoid loss, or theft, and “the mark of the beast” will be a reality.


You will suffer the wrath of Almighty God as he pours out his judgement upon this earth during the end-time period, and then be cast into hell:

“If any man worships the beast and his image, and receives his mark in his forehead or in his hand, Even he shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which is mixed undiluted in the cup of his wrath; and he shall be tormented in fire and brimstone before the holy angels, and before the Lamb: And the smoke of their torment goes up for the ages of ages; and they have no rest day nor night, who worship the beast and his image, and anyone who receives the mark of his name.” (Revelation 14:9-11).


Without Jesus as your Lord and Saviour you will still end up in hell, because you are a sinner.

“All have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23).
“If we say that we have not sinned, we make him (God) a liar, and his word is not in us.” (1 John 1:9).

Therefore God has commanded all men everywhere to repent (Acts 17:30), and Jesus said, “If you do not repent you will all likewise perish.” (Luke 13:3)

Frankenstein-kebab: Man Or Myth


 – Extracts of a Wearside creature –

Some say he is a Frankenstein-kebab, a twisted mixture of severed body parts collected just after world war II, and assembled using a 50/50 ratio of half English half German corpse remains.

One source, who would like to remain anonymous put forth this bold statement “This BEAST has the tongue and eyes of Adolf Hitler

Some say he is a myth, a figment of many a crazed mind! Mr Henry a former cherry knowle patient said  “Arggggh The Wearside Krueger he lurked deep inside my nightmares for many moons”

Others say he has an uncanny resemblance to 1984’s

The Toxic Avenger.

Here is a few things i have read up on and come to believe about this elusive entity.

The fleshy outer covering is a shell hiding the inner truth, It is in fact a North East breed of Reptilian.

Around the 1993 mark after drinking the contents of a bottle of Wild Turkey, Gepetto the inventor stumbled upon Peter Jackson’s failed props cupboard. after another wish, The Frankenstein-kebab was born.

He is the bastard half Brother of Pinocchio

In Arabic it is known as سلطة المراوغ,when translated into English, this is the outcome: Salad Dodger.

They believe this creature dates back to the prehistoric period and is a out right carnivore. If salad were to pass it’s lips, it would kick-start an allergic reaction that would slowly consume it’s entire structure.

– Like So –

It grows in size by absorbing vibes and can often be seen deep within the murky back streets of Sunderland sniffing at the backdoor of many a house party!

It is Extremely dangerous… and you are NOT safe! as through it’s nazi eyes it will attempt to control your mind making you tear apart your own flesh and hand feed it until you pass away from severe blood loss.

After an online sighting pole voters declared by a maragin of 75% to 25% that it looked more 1966’s The Reptile Than Toxic Avenger!

Until around 3 weeks ago i had never made eye contact with a photo of this strange so-called reptilian, i only had my sighting reports and mock up artist sketches to go on. (Reptilians were made popular by David Icke, a conspiracy theorist who believes shape-shifting reptilian people control our world by taking on human form and gaining political power to control our societies. He believes that many of the world leaders are reptilians and were trying to gain power to run the world) that was until another one of my many sources who would also, due to legal reasons remain anonymous showed me a photograph they had taken while trying to (P)fend(T) off an attack by this over-sized vibe eater!

Many mythical beasts and creatures have allegedly been caught on camera and most have been dismissed as forgeries, Big Foot, The Loch Ness Monster, The chupacabra and so on……..

I now admit at first glance i was quick to doubt the authenticity of the photo that sat in front of me, it clearly bared some resemblance to previous sightings and it does look like mid transformation of a reptilian taking human form.

  But still to this day i have no idea if it was the real deal or just another failed attempt at tricking us into believing …

Take a Glance and make your own mind up.

Reptilian Or Plot Loss? you decide!

 – Mobb Deep (1994) –

There’s a war goin on outside, no man is safe from
You could run but you can’t hide forever
from these, streets, that we done took
You walkin witcha head down scared to look

Rest In Peace……. SBR


Sir Bobby Robson, (18 February 1933 – 31 July 2009

Arnold Schwarzenegger


Arnold Alois Schwarzenegger (July 30, 1947)

Happy Birthday Ben The Butcher of Bakersfield” Richards



– The Return of Liquid Perfection –

6ft Of Strangeness


While departing from the land of Maughan on friday night we decided to stop off and go in search of liquid refreshment. Face to face with the fridge I opted for a bottle of Glasgow fizz aka The Bru Of Life. After checkout, while making my way towards the exit I was confronted by a headline in the Hartlepool Mail….. This headline read, Grave Thieves Branded Shameful. Instantly I thought to myself this is something your eyes don’t get to see that often. straight back to the Old School, Grave Robbing at it’s finest, the return of Body Snatching, the plot from Corpse Grinders has come to life and it’s taking place within the boundaries of the north-east.

For those naive creatures that are unfamiliar with 1971’s cult classic The Corpse Grinders here is a quick synopsis, When the Lotus Cat Food Company finds itself in financial trouble, the owners decide to find a new, cheap source of meat.  the local graveyard. Only one problem…. soon cats develop a taste for human flesh, and tabbies are tearing out throats all over town.

As I had broken code, and uncharacteristically left my camera in the car I had to go ahead and reach for the queens and purchase the Hartlepool mail, something I may never do again in my entire life time but the intrigue surrounding this headline was too much to pass up on.

I had reached my humble abode but was still yet to scan the small print allowing my mind to wander even deeper into the maze of the unknown. Was this really a tale of Body snatching? not to be mistaken for the 1993 film where alien clones are replacing humans but a more sinister act, As real as flesh its self, digging up the grave and the removal of the corpse from it’s resting place.

Body snatching is the secret disinterment of corpses from graveyards. A common purpose of body snatching is to sell the corpses for dissection or anatomy lectures in medical schools.

Those who practised body snatching were often called “Resurrectionists” or “Resurrection-men.” A related act is grave robbery, uncovering a tomb or crypt to steal artifacts or personal effects rather than corpses.

Like a leaky brain storm my mind was begging to run out of thoughts and I had such a good time building these different scenarios in my head i decided to give up and not read past the bold headline allowing me to hold on to the hope that one on my twisted versions was in fact the real reason behind this strange Hartlepool article.

When i woke up the following morning i had this headline from the Sunderland Echo to deal with.

 – More information on Body Snatching

Before the Anatomy Act of 1832, the only legal supply of corpses for anatomical purposes in the UK were those condemned to death and dissection by the courts. Those who were sentenced to dissection by the courts were often guilty of comparatively harsher crimes. Such sentences did not provide enough subjects for the medical schools and private anatomical schools.

Before electric power to supply refrigeration, bodies would decay rapidly and become unusable for study. Therefore, the medical profession turned to body snatching to supply the deficit of bodies fresh enough to be examined.

Stealing a corpse was only a misdemeanour at common law, not a felony, and was therefore only punishable with fine and imprisonment, rather than transportation or execution. The trade was a sufficiently lucrative business to run the risk of detection, particularly as the authorities tended to ignore what they considered a necessary evil.

Body snatching became so prevalent that it was not unusual for relatives and friends of someone who had just died to watch over the body until burial, and then to keep watch over the grave after burial, to stop it being violated. Iron coffins, too, were used frequently, or the graves were protected by a framework of iron bars called mortsafes.

One method the body snatchers used was to dig at the head end of a recent burial, digging with a wooden spade (quieter than metal). When they reached the coffin (in London the graves were quite shallow), they broke open the coffin, put a rope around the corpse and dragged it out. They were often careful not to steal anything such as jewelery or clothes as this would cause them to be liable to a felony charge.

The Lancet reported another method. A manhole-sized square of turf was removed 15 to 20 feet (5 to 6 m) away from the head of the grave, and a tunnel dug to intercept the coffin, which would be about 4 feet (1.2 m) down. The end of the coffin would be pulled off, and the corpse pulled up through the tunnel. The turf was then replaced, and any relatives watching the graves would not notice the small, remote disturbance. The article suggests that the number of empty coffins that have been discovered “proves beyond a doubt that at this time body snatching was frequent“.

During 1827 and 1828, some Edinburgh resurrectionists including Burke and Hare changed their tactics from grave-robbing to murder, as they were paid more for very fresh corpses. Their activities, and those of the London Burkers who imitated them, resulted in the passage of the Anatomy Act 1832. This allowed unclaimed bodies and those donated by relatives to be used for the study of anatomy, and required the licensing of anatomy teachers, which essentially ended the body snatching trade. The use of bodies for scientific research in the UK is now governed by the Human Tissue Authority.

W.C. Fields (1880–1946)


“The advantages of whiskey over dogs are legion. Whiskey does not need to be periodically wormed, it does not need to be fed, it never requires a special kennel, it has no toenails to be clipped or coat to be stripped. Whiskey sits quietly in its special nook until you want it. True, whiskey has a nasty habit of running out, but then so does a dog.”

Frame Wars: The Return Of Ham


 – A cut above the rest –

In the dying embers of two thousand and eleven i went in search of a change, that change being a new frame as i thought the trusty 2009 20.5 steven Hamilton (Old Painless), although serving me well had run its course and me and the metal horse needed to go our separate ways.

After scanning a batch of bicycle structures in various shapes and sizes i opted for a the signature 20.5 fit ben lewis frame. Upon getting my hands on one of the elusive creatures i sold the Hamilton and set about getting used to my new stallion which i named,

“The Ghost Of Jordan Henderson”

Every frame should be given a name as without, it’s just a soulless piece of metal.

Fast forward many winter moons and like a weak-minded ex-alcoholic lost in the desert who had been granted on last drink before passing away but this drink is not all plain sailing as attached to this gift is one foul catch, the liquid in question could not have an alcoholic content. You know while lying on his death-bed of sand supping back on some kind of fizzy muck he wishes he never gave up alcohol in the first place. and perched in his palm was a Treble Whiskey On The Rocks!

Was it in fact my soul what i had sold on? as this new frame just didn’t feel right, like biting into a scotch egg to find it’s just an empty sausage shell or turning up at a police conference with a suit made from freshly cut pig skin.

I thought i was going to be stuck with this new ghost for all eternity, but luckily for me that all changed upon receiving  a message one night asking if i would like to repurchase my old frame! my trusty steed “old painless” a chance to be reunited at last.

After letting it go i thought i would never see the day me and painless would be able to let rip and gallop into the midnight air like atilla the hun on a rampage for death, but now i have the beast back in my possession and this time it’s for good!

Straight away it felt like my bike and the moral behind this story of pigs, souls, guns from predator, ex alcoholics and metal structures is, don’t replace something that isn’t broken.

“you’ll never walk alone”

DC Alfred “Tosh” Lines


Kevin Reardon Lloyd (28 March 1949 – 2 May 1998)

John O’Shea


“If It Bleeds We Can Kill It”

Big Jim


Geordie Child Catcher Award 2011

Vincent: Through The Looking Glass


I am awoken to the deafening sound of silence, I find myself sitting down and my vision is severely impaired, it’s as if my eye lids have been treated with some kind of Transglutaminases or more commonly known as meat glue.

– Transglutaminases –

I take a moment to gather my thoughts then with a no holds bared approach i crack my fleshy blinkers away from the clutches of hardened eye slime! the first thing that enters my mind when i see where i am is, how did i end up in this strange place? when the intrigue fades away the crazy realisation kicks in and my brain begins to spiral out of control.

what is the god damn the meaning of this? have i been put here for a reason? can this room even be real? or is it some kind of twisted figment of my imagination?

Still sitting down i scan my surroundings with a sceptical eye looking for a way out but all i can see is wall to wall of shelfs filled with old books reaching all the way to the ceiling which must be around the 40ft high mark and shines with a bright white colouration. this is in total contrast to the floor which is possibly the blackest of blacks i have even set eyes upon. with only a single white chair placed in the middle of the room.

I stand up and attempt to walk over to the nearest section of shelfs  but it’s as if im supported by a set of weakened sea legs so i decide to stay rooted to the spot untill i feel confident enough to set sail to my destination. After a terrible case of the pins & needles I’m away, i start scanning the books but none of them have any names just dirty old hard back covers covered in a thick dust. The first book i pick up was written in latin and had unholy sketches on demons faces through out so i placed it back and walked on hoping i was going to find a way out of this terrible library confinement.

– Beelzebūb:  One Of The Seven Princes of Hell –

While searching for the ever elusive exit I’m stopped in my tracks by one book that stands out from the rest as it’s twice the size of any other around it, i try to take it out as I’m intrigued at what will be sprawled on the pages but it’s packed in tighter than grandma deaths suitcase So i decide to leave it and keep to the task in hand, after doing the rounds of the perimeter and coming to the realisation that there is no means of escape. I make my way back to the center of the room. did i mention that the seat is slap bang in the middle of the room?

sitting there once again my mind begins to wonder….. I’m thinking to myself that maybe one of these books holds the key to breaking on through to the other side like one of  those fake book shelfs you see in films where a certain book unlocks a hidden room but in my case it would release me from this literature lockdown by revealing the hidden door that could set me on my way!

Then out of no where im hit by one of the foulest smells my nostrils have ever had to deal with, “what is that putrid muck that’s entering my system?” if i had to describe it i would put it in the category of rotten flesh with hint of fresh strawberry! that almost leaves a taste in your mouth! this gets me back to my feet and starts the hunt . I’m thinking to myself i need to track down this fragrance and see what dirty creature is producing it, maybe they can give me the answers i require.

The stench seems to be everywhere yet at the same time nowhere at all, taking in lungfuls of this toxic junk im getting no closer to pin-pointing the source so i decide to keep my mind active and head back to the over-sized book to try to attempt to eject it from its perch. When i get to shelf in question some how it’s now the only book there. how can this be? I’m the only person in here, where have the other books gone? all the other shelfs are still full, why leave me this book?

I take it down and carry it back over to the seat in the center of the room where i blow the dust from its heavy structure and proceed to turn the first page, as there was no name on the cover i was unsure what i was getting myself into. I’m struck by big black bold lettering that reads Alice In Wonderland, But the words don’t stop there this is like no Alice in wonderland book i have ever seen, this version is told from the twisted accounts of The psychiatrist of The Mad Hatter…….

– A Mad Tea Party By Ralph Steadman –

As i can not see me getting out of this place any time soon i decide to absorb the views of this clearly deranged psychiatrist and see how his turn of events unfold, i take one last glance around to see if any thing has changed then i begin. Fast forward 5 pages and I’m bloody hooked on this riveting read…. like one of the most brutal addictions known to man my eye are in the zone and my brain in soaking up every last word. The deeper i get the less i blink, im in a total trance a crazy stare down with no way out, every paragraph fits together like a finely cut jigsaw and the words that my eyes are seeing my brain is totally agreeing with.

She is coming to an end, but like any good intake you don’t want it to stop, I turn the last page as if it was the first, how long have i been sitting here? it’s as if time has stood still. The words that have just passed before me could have taken me 10 hours or 10 days to read, i guess that is something i will never know! I decide to read the last ink at a slower pace to savour the moment, For the last twenty minutes or so i have kept hearing a faint shuffle behind me but when i turn to confront the noise there is noting in sight, maybe it’s the sound of my brain overloading or maybe just maybe it’s the sound of uncomfortable books in the shelf, I decide to ignore it and keep on reading.

– Standard Brain Overload –

Not far to go now, im entering the last paragraph, and what i find quite strange is it’s written with backwards letters, i struggle through and when my brain has reconfigured the last letter i know i now have this book imprinted into my thoughts, scrawled at the bottom of the page in red ink it states “The End”.

Before i have time to think back over the book i have just digested, im confronted by the loudest BANG my system has ever had to deal with, after sitting in silence for so long my ears are ringing to the sound of some one or some or thing hitting the ground behind me, was this the shuffling creature? I jump up and run to the scene of the crime, on route im tripped up by a rogue object sticking out the floor. I look it straight in the eyes it’s a big brass door knocker in the shape of a lion’s head situated on top of a 5ft by 5ft cellar door, could this have been here all along and what a strange place for it to be situated. Is this the way out or is it just a jolt back in time to grandma’s fruit cellar? It’s a good job there is no mirrors in the place i have a strange feeling that i might have the same facial structure as Bruce Campbell.

A slight bout of fear starts to creep up my spine, surely this can not be, have i been here for that long that i have been struck with a case of Agoraphobia, ive been wanting to escape the clutches of this place for so long that now i dare not leave. In front of me is possibly the only way out and now i seem to be having second thoughts, I decide to make my way back to the chair for one last glance at the place that has held me captive.

sitting down i come to the conclusion that I’m still none the wiser at why i have been put here and I’m wondering if any of the books in the higher shelf have even seen the eyes of a human being, If i was to fight the urge to leave and keep searching would i locate the Necronomicon? would i find a back log of unpublished works by dead authors? without a decent set of ladders it would be touching on the brink of impossible to reach even the 4th shelf never mind the ones near the top and what if i was to find my name etched into the guts of the Necronomicon? does this mean I’m dead and this is actually the after life? or maybe the reason i am trapped here is some freakish flesh covered cyborg is out their mimicking my movements, leaving the people i know none the wiser of my disappearance. and the reason he knows so much about me is i am trapped in his memory volt.

– Necronomicon: The Book Of The Dead –

This is just far too much to take in, with the thoughts that are nestled on my brain i am finding it quite hard to maintain any type of sanity and i decide it is the final straw, I stand up and make my way over to the lion’s head, once there i kneel down and sound out three heavy knocks on its brass handle incase there is some kind of gate-keeper awaiting me on the other side. After 3 1/2 minutes or so with no reply i grasp the handle and with one foul swoop i flip it over.

A bright white light shines up from the 5ft by 5ft hole in the floor nearly knocking me over i take a step back utter the words “Sweet Jesus what have i awoken” and without thinking of the consequences i dive straight in, I’m falling, or am i? i have the feeling of falling but it’s far too bright to know whats going on, my eyes are not picking up any shapes or objects just mind a boggling brightness, this goes on for what feels like eternity, just i was starting to feel quite relaxed while experiencing what can only be describes as total weightlessness, i come to a vicious stop.

Once again i find myself in a bundle on the floor, i pick myself up open my eyes and take a look around. This can not be happening is the first thought to jumps into my head……… Where am i your asking your self, well i am standing on a bright white floor surrounded by wall to wall of book shelfs filled with old dusty books. They say don’t judge a book by its cover, well where i am that’s quite easy as none of the covers have names. Any way who are THEY? are they the bastards who put me here? what the hell is going on? i stop thinking for a second and glance up at the ceiling, it’s of dark black colouration and the only thing i can make out is a single white upside down chair situated right in the middle.

– Remember noting is what is seems –

Give someone a piece of paper and ask them to write you a story, then sit back and watch as they as they write in diagonal line like some kind of pre programmed robot.

Give something a piece of paper and ask it to write you a story, then sit back and watch in astonishment as it starts from the middle and works its way around in an outwards spiral entrancing the reader and leaving them in a dizzy mess.

Brain Tweaker!


Supposedly, researchers at Cambridge University have concluded that it doesn’t matter what order the letters of a word are in; as long as the first and last letters are in the proper place, you can scramble the rest of the word however you like, and it’s still readable. This is because the human mind does not read every letter by itself, but the word as a whole.

Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn’t mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be at the rghit pclae. The rset can be a toatl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.

The Sirminator


“Twenty Seven Years Of The Real BUTCH D

When You’re Strange…


The shattered remains you are casting your eyes upon is the end result of a broken laptop screen and not that of a psychologists inkblotted cards, although the end result is quite similar….

the Rorschach technique, or simply the inkblot test is a psychological test in which subjects’ perceptions of inkblots are recorded and then analyzed using psychological interpretation, complex algorithms, or both. Some psychologists use this test to examine a person’s personality characteristics and emotional functioning. It has been employed to detect underlying thought disorder

The Face Behind The Skull…

Ghost In The Machine!

Terry Gilliams – The Imaginarium Of Doctor Parnassus

Real Life Freaks & Tweakers

Boldon Sausages Get The Nod From Holder


Rock legend and sausage lover Noddy Holder pictured judging the North East’s most legendary banger as part of British Sausage Week.

A SAUSAGE king is cooking on gas after his bangers were named the tastiest in the North East.

Thanks to the Pitman’s Porker sausage, butcher G.H Pickings, of East Boldon, has been crowned a winner by rock legend and British Sausage Week 2011 ambassador, Noddy Holder.

This year, the competition received hundreds of entries and G.H Pickings won the regional heat to receive their much deserved Golden Sausage Disc and a place in the British Sausage Week Hall of Fame.

Former Slade frontman Noddy Holder has led the search to find Britain’s Legendary Bangers. He’s been touring the country to uncover that little bit of sparkle that makes for a really special sausage.

Noddy said: “The standard of entries was incredibly high, with many sausages worthy of the title of legendary.

“However G.H Pickings’ Pitmans Porker Sausage stood out as something genuinely different. They very much deserve their prize and place in the British Sausage Week Hall of Fame.”

Paul Clark, from the butcher’s, said: “We are so pleased to win. You always hope to win when you enter a competition, but for our entry to be crowned North East Legendary Banger is just fantastic.”

He added: “It was great to meet Noddy and get our very own Gold Disc.

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