I've lived in Asia for almost 7 years and never recorded anything that has happened to me or taken any photographs. It is like I have never existed. this blog aims to remedy that. I may even buy a camera!
We took a random sample from 49 Moray Park Avenue to assess the demographics of the area.These two represent 2 / 50 sampled or I guess 4% o fthe populus. It took a long time to find 50 samples as it was Giro day and the courts were also open for business.
Rioting and looting continued as normal whilst the survey was being conducted.
posted by Mark in Hong Kong @ 2:23 AM
I've lived in Asia for almost 7 years and never recorded anything that has happened to me or taken any photographs. It is like I have never existed. this blog aims to remedy that. I may even buy a camera!
12 Comments:
SCREAM!!!!! these men are not from Moraypark Avenue I promise - where on earth do you get these from Mark!!
Mr Rapist was also absent. Rumour has it that he is currently hiding in a dimly lit alleyway next to the burnt out Coop supermarket.
Moraypark Avenue! My sparkys transid was robbed, overturned and set afire in the coop carpark just down the road from there
good boys these davidson lads. like a wee drop too...gid own yerselves
If it walks like a duck,
Talks like a duck,
Burns bridges like a duck,
Launches polar expeditions like a duck,
Hunts lion like a duck,
Prepares SEM samples like a duck,
And eats its young like a duck,
Then I guess it's a f*!#ing duck!
Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!
It isn’t fit for humans now,
There isn’t grass to graze a cow.
Swarm over, Death!
Come, bombs and blow to smithereens
Those air -conditioned, bright canteens,
Tinned fruit, tinned meat, tinned milk, tinned beans,
Tinned minds, tinned breath.
Mess up the mess they call a town-
A house for ninety-seven down
And once a week a half a crown
For twenty years.
And get that man with double chin
Who’ll always cheat and always win,
Who washes his repulsive skin
In women’s tears:
And smash his desk of polished oak
And smash his hands so used to stroke
And stop his boring dirty joke
And make him yell.
But spare the bald young clerks who add
The profits of the stinking cad;
It’s not their fault that they are mad,
They’ve tasted Hell.
It’s not their fault they do not know
The birdsong from the radio,
It’s not their fault they often go
To Maidenhead
And talk of sport and makes of cars
In various bogus-Tudor bars
And daren’t look up and see the stars
But belch instead.
In labour-saving homes, with care
Their wives frizz out peroxide hair
And dry it in synthetic air
And paint their nails.
Come, friendly bombs and fall on Slough
To get it ready for the plough.
The cabbages are coming now;
The earth exhales.
It a shame that so much rubbish is put on here, all you rubbish writers GO AWAY!!!!!!
nearly hols (is there a Mr Holiday??) here in MPA
will try and sort the neds.......
Joep
Apparently most bloggers only last 4 months!!!! Are you one of them honey?
hon·ey P Pronunciation Key (hn)
n. pl. hon·eys
A sweet yellowish or brownish viscid fluid produced by various bees from the nectar of flowers and used as food.
A similar substance made by certain other insects.
A sweet substance, such as nectar.
Sweetness; pleasantness.
Sugary or ingratiating words; flattery.
Informal. Sweetheart; dear. Used as a term of endearment.
Informal. Something remarkably fine: a honey of a car.
tr.v. hon·eyed, or hon·ied (hnd) hon·ey·ing, hon·eys
To sweeten with or as if with honey.
To cajole with sweet talk.
[Middle English honi, from Old English hunig.]
Have you ever kissed a man?
What ON EARTH is going on?
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