Saturday, 3 May 2008

Friday, 18 April 2008

Training, Day Five.

Amusing story involving late night running and a rape alarm to follow.

Fags smoked: 1.5
Booze comsumed: One glass of red wine.
Women inadvertantly terrified: 1
People you've called a cunt since quitting smoking: 5
Where does it hurt: My shins.
Are you scared: Not as much as I was.


It's getting easier. Might have to make things more difficult next week.

Wednesday, 16 April 2008

Training, Day Three.

Miles ran? About 3
The Time it Took You? Too fucking long.
Cigarettes Smoked Since Starting Training? 1.5
Alcohol Consumed Since Starting Training? Fuck all.
Where Does it Hurt? Mostly everywhere. Except my balls.
Did They Send You Nurses? No, because they are cunts.
Are you Afraid? Yes.

Monday, 14 April 2008

Training, Day One

Send nurses...
Send many nurses with soft hands.
For the love of god, one of you send me some nurses...


*Edit/Update* Don't send any nurses, I'll kill them for their cigarettes/ the contents of their hip flasks.




*Further update* Send nurses. with soft hands...

Thursday, 10 April 2008

You Are a Runner and I Am My Father's Son.

For as long as I can remember it's been an amibition of mine to die childless attempting to do something really pointless. Mostly because I want to deprive future generations of my awesome DNA. I'm a bit spiteful, you see.

Anyways, because it will probably kill me and because I'm a fucking idiot, I signed up for the ballot to enter the 2009 London Marathon today.

This could be an interesting experiment, currently I can't get out of a chair without going into a coughing fit that sounds like someone has stabbed a dog with enphysemia in the lungs while giving it a good shake, by next year I have to be able to run for four plus hours.

I'm spending the rest of today saying goodbye to my two true loves; fags and booze. Tomorrow I start training.

It's going to be painful.

I'll mostly be turning this thing over to being my boring-ass training blog for the next year. I'm sure it'll be so exciting for you to read.

Tuesday, 26 February 2008

Further Evidence...

..that the man on the street is a cunt:





It's also cast-iron evidence that makes an open and shut case for hanging 99% of all people that would bother to vote in a phone-in poll on capital punishment. They should be hanged.

In a place of lawful execution.

By the neck.

To death.

The cunts.

Ohhh, the hypocrisy!

The hypocrisy!

Fortunately Scattergum's Legal Representation is Second to None.

On viewing Sitemeter (that little tab at the bottom of this page, it lets me see who and for how long has been looking at Scattergum - you can look too!) I found that the Unified Court System, State of New York has taken a passing interest in Scattergum's activities:






I expect to be "renditioned" any day now. Don't worry though, I've put in those tough hours building an immunity to being tied down while some meat-necked shit pustule pours water over my face and tries to get me to admit to a whole bunch of shit that wouldn't stand up in any civilised court, I look great in orange and get on excellently with most members of the Muslim community.


Most importantly, if the worst comes to the worst and I'm not sent to be tormented by conventional means. If they send me to suffer the most tortuous fury a 500 billion bucks a year budget can possibly rain down on one man. If the most awful thing imaginable happens to me. If my fate is to be one truly worse than death. Don't lament my plight too greatly.

Because being forced to listen to dullard New York media fuckwits pontificating endlessly (especially about an overlong electoral process) like their opinion matters for shit, has little to no effect on me. I've been through that on many occasions. I used to call that a holiday and paid plenty of pounds (pounds being way better than dollars) for the privilege.



So bring it the Unified Court System, State of New york, bring it. There's fuck all you can do to me that I haven't already done to myself in your fine state.

Actually, we all know what 'mercans are like, the three things they love to do best are suin' folks, shootin' folks and giving folks infected blankets so they can steal their land. All that's likely to come of this (if anything) is that I'll get sued then shot.

I don't own any land.