Friday, October 29
An update is an update, damn it!
As long as there aren’t real updates because both Chyldio and I are faking that we’re really busy… I’ll post some lines of lyrics that I like, how I feel or just because I like to spill bandwidth…
"It's stupid when her voice can make you smile. "
Things Seem All Fucked Up Today - Screeching Weasel
"It's stupid when her voice can make you smile. "
Things Seem All Fucked Up Today - Screeching Weasel
Tuesday, October 26
Anglais
English is stupid…
Why can you say:
“We are stupid, aren’t we?”
And why can’t I say:
“I am stupid, amn’t I?”
Who made this stupidness up to replace amn’t with ain’t or isn’t?
And why isn’t stupidness a word?
And I’m going to use it anyway.
Another chapter added to The Big Book of Superish Grammar.
Why can you say:
“We are stupid, aren’t we?”
And why can’t I say:
“I am stupid, amn’t I?”
Who made this stupidness up to replace amn’t with ain’t or isn’t?
And why isn’t stupidness a word?
And I’m going to use it anyway.
Another chapter added to The Big Book of Superish Grammar.
Monday, October 25
Nothing Original...
Ladies and Gentlemen, I have a solution to my massive cashflow problem.
The basic premise behind getting a job is surely to do what you're good at, right? What am I good at?
-Drinking
-Getting stoned
-Sleeping
-Paiting little men badly
-Drumming badly
Nothing really suited to the modern workplace, really. But wait! I missed out one; my appearence!
I shall become a professional Mick Jagger Impersonator!
Obviously, I've got no idea how to get into such a line, so any recommendations are welcome...
The basic premise behind getting a job is surely to do what you're good at, right? What am I good at?
-Drinking
-Getting stoned
-Sleeping
-Paiting little men badly
-Drumming badly
Nothing really suited to the modern workplace, really. But wait! I missed out one; my appearence!
I shall become a professional Mick Jagger Impersonator!
Obviously, I've got no idea how to get into such a line, so any recommendations are welcome...
Meaningless
There are a lot of things, which are crap and without any meaning. Tuesdays for example. I never had an exciting Tuesday, nothing ever happens on a Tuesday; Sunday is free and means something to religious people, Monday is the day we worship the moon, Wednesday is the middle of the week, Thursday is Dutch student day (cheap beer), Friday counts as weekend, Saturday is weekend and means football and drinking beer. But what the hell happens on a Tuesday? I suggest that from no on we start with a six-days-week.
Cell phones with cameras! Even some respected Less-is-More’ers have one! Should be banned.
The ‘Q’. We only have it because it’s a James Bond character. But for the rest… I never use a word with a q. And there is a good alternative for the Q. Let’s say Cwestion instead of Question. Also an ‘X’. We only use it for the word sex. But I think deeds say more than words.
Beige. Beige is a really nasty colour that no one likes. So, why not ditch it? All colours are in the rainbow, but do you really think the rainbow loses its prettiness when we take out beige?
And last but not least in the meaningless rant. The 101 blog. I mean 96, 97, 98, 99… You’re really working to get to the 100 post and then you had it! Hurrah! Onehundred! So, 99 posts to go for another party…
In conclusion we should outlaw Tuesdays, cell phone cameras, Q’s, X’s, beige and the number 101.
Cell phones with cameras! Even some respected Less-is-More’ers have one! Should be banned.
The ‘Q’. We only have it because it’s a James Bond character. But for the rest… I never use a word with a q. And there is a good alternative for the Q. Let’s say Cwestion instead of Question. Also an ‘X’. We only use it for the word sex. But I think deeds say more than words.
Beige. Beige is a really nasty colour that no one likes. So, why not ditch it? All colours are in the rainbow, but do you really think the rainbow loses its prettiness when we take out beige?
And last but not least in the meaningless rant. The 101 blog. I mean 96, 97, 98, 99… You’re really working to get to the 100 post and then you had it! Hurrah! Onehundred! So, 99 posts to go for another party…
In conclusion we should outlaw Tuesdays, cell phone cameras, Q’s, X’s, beige and the number 101.
Saturday, October 23
Big 100? None o' that crap...
Its odd, its kinda snuck up on me that this is, in fact, the 100th update for Less Is More itself! I was going to palm you off with yet another "100 Inane And Stupid Questions About You", savaged in the style of many before. But that ain't good enough for y'all really. We need teh funnee again!
The History of Less Is More
Back in the spring of 2004, a young street urchin called Chyld got sick of stealing pennies off of the pavements in order to fund his sherbert habit, decided he needed some output for his mad ideas. So he went home, searched for blog providers, and created an entity known as Less Is More.
The dream began delightfully, rattling off a piece about the disturbing logo for Alfa Romeo. "What is this picture that resemles a man-eating snake?" he cried, "Its effing weird!" Thus did the population have a small chuckle. Finally, the good were working. He immediatly followed this with a rant at the foolish weight watchers, and the wobblers on the Fatkins diet. "No carbs! The folly!" went up his warcry. Which resonated with another individual, who became intertwined with the paths of Chyld and Less is More.
Supermarct, a Dutch street urchin of a more drunken dispoition, was told of this wonderful venture, and went ahead to provide the first ever guest update, on him being drunk at an awards ceremony in London. And thus did it develop...
Nothing interesting happened for a while, pen drives were bought, laptops gave up the ghost, Vauxhall Corsas were slated, and all was merryment, with Super taking most of the Friday Guest Updater slots. I even managed a Theme Week onone of the best bands in the Multiverse, Slipknot. Then I almost got laid.
Then the summer came, creating a death knell for the website. I had a few good ideas, but as soon as the Prom came around, everthing Chyld and Super had worked for crumbled. "Aha!" thought Chyld "Copout!" And thus, the only updates that came from that point were diaries. Of proms where I'd been betrayed, of barge trips where I did-not-get-laid-despite-appearences-to-the-contrary-I-dug-a-big-messy-hole-over-this-leave-me-alone, and festivals where much drugs were smoked, munched, and vomit produced as a result. No sex, though.
And now I'm 250 miles away, poor, and running low on ideas. I hope that was a goo enough post, and lets hope for another 100, because at this rate there isn't going to be another 25...
The History of Less Is More
Back in the spring of 2004, a young street urchin called Chyld got sick of stealing pennies off of the pavements in order to fund his sherbert habit, decided he needed some output for his mad ideas. So he went home, searched for blog providers, and created an entity known as Less Is More.
The dream began delightfully, rattling off a piece about the disturbing logo for Alfa Romeo. "What is this picture that resemles a man-eating snake?" he cried, "Its effing weird!" Thus did the population have a small chuckle. Finally, the good were working. He immediatly followed this with a rant at the foolish weight watchers, and the wobblers on the Fatkins diet. "No carbs! The folly!" went up his warcry. Which resonated with another individual, who became intertwined with the paths of Chyld and Less is More.
Supermarct, a Dutch street urchin of a more drunken dispoition, was told of this wonderful venture, and went ahead to provide the first ever guest update, on him being drunk at an awards ceremony in London. And thus did it develop...
Nothing interesting happened for a while, pen drives were bought, laptops gave up the ghost, Vauxhall Corsas were slated, and all was merryment, with Super taking most of the Friday Guest Updater slots. I even managed a Theme Week onone of the best bands in the Multiverse, Slipknot. Then I almost got laid.
Then the summer came, creating a death knell for the website. I had a few good ideas, but as soon as the Prom came around, everthing Chyld and Super had worked for crumbled. "Aha!" thought Chyld "Copout!" And thus, the only updates that came from that point were diaries. Of proms where I'd been betrayed, of barge trips where I did-not-get-laid-despite-appearences-to-the-contrary-I-dug-a-big-messy-hole-over-this-leave-me-alone, and festivals where much drugs were smoked, munched, and vomit produced as a result. No sex, though.
And now I'm 250 miles away, poor, and running low on ideas. I hope that was a goo enough post, and lets hope for another 100, because at this rate there isn't going to be another 25...
Friday, October 22
No title
it used to be all fun and games it used to be ok
we used to party every night we used to hang out every day
but it is not the same no more to much is said and done
somebody’s going to drown some day but I won’t be the one
That'll do for today.
we used to party every night we used to hang out every day
but it is not the same no more to much is said and done
somebody’s going to drown some day but I won’t be the one
That'll do for today.
Thursday, October 14
Desperate Times...
Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm very poor now.
I went into town today, to sort out the paying for my new phone. Inadvertently, I was given a mini bank statement. In one month, I've spent £1000 of my £1100 student loan.
Times are therefore a bit hard in Chateau Chyld. I'm hunting for a job, looking at the various internet options avaliable to me, but its time for the Last Resort...
Yes, its a PayPal button.
I realise that, with the chronic lack of updates lately, this is like a once-wealthy man crawling on his knees to random strangers for bread crusts, after having mooned them from his horse-drawn carriage. And neither do I have anything to repay said kindness.
Unless you factor in the Merch Shack, which has sold one T-shirt in just under six months. That's anywhere between 20p and £1 profit then.
Tell you what, you donate and I'll write. Fair?
Good. Now, I'll line up a rant on covers for... ooh, some time in the future. As an incentive, I'll whack up a Henry Skull comic, right?
Good day, chyldren...
I went into town today, to sort out the paying for my new phone. Inadvertently, I was given a mini bank statement. In one month, I've spent £1000 of my £1100 student loan.
Times are therefore a bit hard in Chateau Chyld. I'm hunting for a job, looking at the various internet options avaliable to me, but its time for the Last Resort...
Yes, its a PayPal button.
I realise that, with the chronic lack of updates lately, this is like a once-wealthy man crawling on his knees to random strangers for bread crusts, after having mooned them from his horse-drawn carriage. And neither do I have anything to repay said kindness.
Unless you factor in the Merch Shack, which has sold one T-shirt in just under six months. That's anywhere between 20p and £1 profit then.
Tell you what, you donate and I'll write. Fair?
Good. Now, I'll line up a rant on covers for... ooh, some time in the future. As an incentive, I'll whack up a Henry Skull comic, right?
Good day, chyldren...
Tuesday, October 5
What Goes Around
Its been a long time since we've had a proper update, and I do mean
ages. By now, I'll bet the regular fanbase has started to move on, so
its time to become funny again. So I'm going to try and maintain a
Tuesday-Thursday-Sunday update schedule, at the very least from now on.
So, getting into university every day then.
The Lawns Halls, the place wot I lives at, is about three to four miles away
from the university itself. A fairly imposing distance, and one I need to walk
every single fucking day. Apart from Wednesday, which is reverentialy given to
a hungover lie-in. But what about the other days, you don't cry at all. Here
we are...
1.) Walking It.
While I've no objection to walking, really, its four miles. Four Miles. The
average human walks at about three miles an hour. Does this suggest any reason
why NOT to try it? It takes at least half an hour for me to get my arse in
gear every morning, negociating the creaky floorboards in my room, getting
dressed, and working out whether my bacon or my milk is more likely to kill
me, and therefore choosing fry-up or cereal.
Basically, I don't want to. I had to walk home on the second day, with no idea
where I was going, in the blazing sunshine. Not conductive to good health. I
have forsaken that option completly now.
HOWEVER, I insist on walking into the town where I live, if theres a trip
there to be done, for doctors appointments/shopping/robbery/etc. Its five
minutes walk away. FIVE MINUTES AND PEOPLE STILL INSIST ON DRIVING IT. Gits.
2.) Take The Bus
The more popular option for most people. Its quick, easy, and only £1.95 for a
return ticket. Less if you're using a bus pass, which I kinda need. I don't
have one, because I didn't have any money (no savings, no loan, no cannabis to
sell to CompleteAnarchy...) to pay for it with, and now I have the money, I
can't find anywhere to get the damned thing. AARGH!
Yahtzee once pontificated on being the scary man on the bus no one would sit
next to. At the time, I felt "Yeah? I'd be, but I never take the bus. What of
it?" Now I am, I find myself being that scary man. I compensate by lurking on
the top of the bus. There's something relevant in here, I'm sure.
3.) Bike
Ah yes, my bike. Retired from helping me deliver the parish's papers, now
occasionly pressed into service as my lift in when I want to save two quid.
And I kinda need to, now. I've spent £260 of my £1110 loan, and that's before
they take money for bus passes, tuition fees, etc. Fuck and whoops. So, bike
it is.
It only takes 20 minutes, gives me exercise, and is totally free. Apart from
the £8 portable bike repair kit I bought because the front brakes fucked up.
Now if I try braking, I make like Superman and go flying over the handlebars.
So, moving on...
4.) The Cheetsmobile.
Free like a bike, quicker than bus, only marred by a bass system that could be
used by the police in a seige. Seriously, its so loud, the optimum place to
listen from for best sound quality is in the car behind. Not an option I can
take very often...
4.5) Other Cars
Yes, other cars do exist, may I add as a footnote. However, no named
characters have one, so it doesn't help.
5.)Taximobile
The ultimate in getting back to/from clubs at ridiculously late hours, the
local taxis are among the fastest way of getting places. If you remember to
order it about two hours beforehand. And if the taxi service has any taxis
avaliable (read: if they can be arsed). And if the taxidriver isn't late. If
he is, a small wait of about 5 million years should be added into your
schedule.
However, you can't go far wrong with taxi driver banter. I've had
conversations that have ranged from the quality of the local nightlife, the
intricacies of being a taxi driver (did you know that they have to pay
for the signs on the side themselves?), to basically calling one of my mates a
virginal wanker. Good stuff in context.
If that was funny, give me money.
New Henry Skull Comic: Breaking Even... Or Odd
ages. By now, I'll bet the regular fanbase has started to move on, so
its time to become funny again. So I'm going to try and maintain a
Tuesday-Thursday-Sunday update schedule, at the very least from now on.
So, getting into university every day then.
The Lawns Halls, the place wot I lives at, is about three to four miles away
from the university itself. A fairly imposing distance, and one I need to walk
every single fucking day. Apart from Wednesday, which is reverentialy given to
a hungover lie-in. But what about the other days, you don't cry at all. Here
we are...
1.) Walking It.
While I've no objection to walking, really, its four miles. Four Miles. The
average human walks at about three miles an hour. Does this suggest any reason
why NOT to try it? It takes at least half an hour for me to get my arse in
gear every morning, negociating the creaky floorboards in my room, getting
dressed, and working out whether my bacon or my milk is more likely to kill
me, and therefore choosing fry-up or cereal.
Basically, I don't want to. I had to walk home on the second day, with no idea
where I was going, in the blazing sunshine. Not conductive to good health. I
have forsaken that option completly now.
HOWEVER, I insist on walking into the town where I live, if theres a trip
there to be done, for doctors appointments/shopping/robbery/etc. Its five
minutes walk away. FIVE MINUTES AND PEOPLE STILL INSIST ON DRIVING IT. Gits.
2.) Take The Bus
The more popular option for most people. Its quick, easy, and only £1.95 for a
return ticket. Less if you're using a bus pass, which I kinda need. I don't
have one, because I didn't have any money (no savings, no loan, no cannabis to
sell to CompleteAnarchy...) to pay for it with, and now I have the money, I
can't find anywhere to get the damned thing. AARGH!
Yahtzee once pontificated on being the scary man on the bus no one would sit
next to. At the time, I felt "Yeah? I'd be, but I never take the bus. What of
it?" Now I am, I find myself being that scary man. I compensate by lurking on
the top of the bus. There's something relevant in here, I'm sure.
3.) Bike
Ah yes, my bike. Retired from helping me deliver the parish's papers, now
occasionly pressed into service as my lift in when I want to save two quid.
And I kinda need to, now. I've spent £260 of my £1110 loan, and that's before
they take money for bus passes, tuition fees, etc. Fuck and whoops. So, bike
it is.
It only takes 20 minutes, gives me exercise, and is totally free. Apart from
the £8 portable bike repair kit I bought because the front brakes fucked up.
Now if I try braking, I make like Superman and go flying over the handlebars.
So, moving on...
4.) The Cheetsmobile.
Free like a bike, quicker than bus, only marred by a bass system that could be
used by the police in a seige. Seriously, its so loud, the optimum place to
listen from for best sound quality is in the car behind. Not an option I can
take very often...
4.5) Other Cars
Yes, other cars do exist, may I add as a footnote. However, no named
characters have one, so it doesn't help.
5.)Taximobile
The ultimate in getting back to/from clubs at ridiculously late hours, the
local taxis are among the fastest way of getting places. If you remember to
order it about two hours beforehand. And if the taxi service has any taxis
avaliable (read: if they can be arsed). And if the taxidriver isn't late. If
he is, a small wait of about 5 million years should be added into your
schedule.
However, you can't go far wrong with taxi driver banter. I've had
conversations that have ranged from the quality of the local nightlife, the
intricacies of being a taxi driver (did you know that they have to pay
for the signs on the side themselves?), to basically calling one of my mates a
virginal wanker. Good stuff in context.
If that was funny, give me money.
New Henry Skull Comic: Breaking Even... Or Odd
To be(etle) or not to be(etle)
While technically being at work, I saw a question on the Internet:
>What sort of things do beetles eat???<
I think this is an interesting question and I started to wonder. Why do we want to know what beetles eat? It’s not like I want a beetle as a pet or something and need all the information to give him a warm welcome. I don’t even care wetter it eats or not.
Anyway, we did get an answer.
Oh the horror. A person that likes bugs with a sense of humour!
Now where are insects made from? They are meat too!
Oh, this is great.
“Hey All!”
“Hi Mike!”
“Hey All, you know what beetles eat, All?”
“No, Mike. What do beetles eat, Mike?”
“Search the Internet for yourself, All!”
Why did this lunatic came up with this question in the first place? No one asked for it, he posted it anyway, and now we’re all interested and excited, he tells us go find it ourselves! What’s the point of mentioning it in the first place? Why do you spoil bandwidth? I hope that meat eating (not insect-eating) beetles will eat you alive! Argh!
>What sort of things do beetles eat???<
I think this is an interesting question and I started to wonder. Why do we want to know what beetles eat? It’s not like I want a beetle as a pet or something and need all the information to give him a warm welcome. I don’t even care wetter it eats or not.
Anyway, we did get an answer.
Probably The Beatles eat beef and mashed potatoes, but…
Oh the horror. A person that likes bugs with a sense of humour!
…beetles eat most anything, depending on the species. Some eat meat (live and dead), others eat plants, others eat other insects, …
Now where are insects made from? They are meat too!
…and others eat dung. Better look at a web site or a library book on insects to see the variety.
Oh, this is great.
“Hey All!”
“Hi Mike!”
“Hey All, you know what beetles eat, All?”
“No, Mike. What do beetles eat, Mike?”
“Search the Internet for yourself, All!”
Why did this lunatic came up with this question in the first place? No one asked for it, he posted it anyway, and now we’re all interested and excited, he tells us go find it ourselves! What’s the point of mentioning it in the first place? Why do you spoil bandwidth? I hope that meat eating (not insect-eating) beetles will eat you alive! Argh!
Sunday, October 3
Tell Us A Story
Right, how fucked am I?
I've had a fortnight to prepare one A4 side of a story for Creative Writing.
A whole freaking fortnight!
Well, that's a good reminder of how bloody lazy I am. But luck is on my side, I've found an idea. Its a bit thin on the ground for now, but this is where YOU can help ME for once.
I put up what I've been arsed to put down so far, you give me feedback in whatever forum I will read it in. Mine, preferably.
Its a fantasy setting (Wizards and trolls as opposed to breasts, jelly and vibrating cucumbers), and the protagonist is a wizards son, sent away from home to study under a better wizard. Do read on...
"The thing about magic", my father had told me, "is that nobody understands quite how it works. There's obviously more to it than just waving your arms around and saying a few funny words. It’s just that we don’t know what. Bear that in mind before you start your magical training."
I grimaced slightly at this recollection, and opened the large and heavy book in front of me. It was a plain and simple book, bound in what I assumed was red leather (although, in all fairness, tomes of magic can be made of anything these days), and had the words "Ye Booke of Magikal Lore" engraved on the front. This was the last thing my father had given me before I went away, and while it was priceless, irreplaceable, and heavy with the ancient knowledge of sorcery from generations long past, it wasn’t exactly going to buy me a good ham sandwich.
Which was, I felt, more important to sating my grumbling stomach, than being able to make sparks appear at the click of a finger.
Scolding myself...
That's all I've got so far. He's going to do some reading from the book next. It fills about a third of a side of A4 right now.
Well, critique away then!
I've had a fortnight to prepare one A4 side of a story for Creative Writing.
A whole freaking fortnight!
Well, that's a good reminder of how bloody lazy I am. But luck is on my side, I've found an idea. Its a bit thin on the ground for now, but this is where YOU can help ME for once.
I put up what I've been arsed to put down so far, you give me feedback in whatever forum I will read it in. Mine, preferably.
Its a fantasy setting (Wizards and trolls as opposed to breasts, jelly and vibrating cucumbers), and the protagonist is a wizards son, sent away from home to study under a better wizard. Do read on...
"The thing about magic", my father had told me, "is that nobody understands quite how it works. There's obviously more to it than just waving your arms around and saying a few funny words. It’s just that we don’t know what. Bear that in mind before you start your magical training."
I grimaced slightly at this recollection, and opened the large and heavy book in front of me. It was a plain and simple book, bound in what I assumed was red leather (although, in all fairness, tomes of magic can be made of anything these days), and had the words "Ye Booke of Magikal Lore" engraved on the front. This was the last thing my father had given me before I went away, and while it was priceless, irreplaceable, and heavy with the ancient knowledge of sorcery from generations long past, it wasn’t exactly going to buy me a good ham sandwich.
Which was, I felt, more important to sating my grumbling stomach, than being able to make sparks appear at the click of a finger.
Scolding myself...
That's all I've got so far. He's going to do some reading from the book next. It fills about a third of a side of A4 right now.
Well, critique away then!
Friday, October 1
Schizo’s going madder?
Well, well, well. Another update from the schizo?
Why the hell am I updating this much lately? Mainly because I’m bored as a supermarket, and I want to increase the spamming in the forums. It looks only Cyz and I are posting in one section nowadays. Now, we can argue quite a bit with the two of us, but it would be nice to see you guys around a bit more.
My dearest Amy?
Funny Bubbles?
Cute TinyOne?
Underaged Girry?
Fellow Dutchie Skorpio?
Utter coolness Johnny?
Where are you guys?
Even our beloved moderator doesn’t show up too much anymore... Chyldio!?
Is there some nasty virus infecting all sane people and disallow them to contact the schizo?
Yes? Really? Then why is Cyzyk still around? Oh My, does this mean Cyzyk is one of my personalities too?
Argh!
Why the hell am I updating this much lately? Mainly because I’m bored as a supermarket, and I want to increase the spamming in the forums. It looks only Cyz and I are posting in one section nowadays. Now, we can argue quite a bit with the two of us, but it would be nice to see you guys around a bit more.
My dearest Amy?
Funny Bubbles?
Cute TinyOne?
Underaged Girry?
Fellow Dutchie Skorpio?
Utter coolness Johnny?
Where are you guys?
Even our beloved moderator doesn’t show up too much anymore... Chyldio!?
Is there some nasty virus infecting all sane people and disallow them to contact the schizo?
Yes? Really? Then why is Cyzyk still around? Oh My, does this mean Cyzyk is one of my personalities too?
Argh!
