the end

cos i really couldn't be bothered posting the rest of this crap on separate days, but felt i should at least finish it, here are the last eighty odd entries in one hit.


day one hundred and ninety three

Well, how long has it been matey? Yeah, about that long, eh. A lots happened since then, a new year to start with. Two actually. Been nearly two years to the day since last time, eh? Lots happening, eh? Got a real job now. Yeah, working at Parliament, eh? Still got me real nice girlfriend, eh? Nearly two and a half years, eh? Nearly a big pop star, eh? Writing really neat pop songs, eh? Playing some pretty good guitar, too. But I ain't got no band, eh? Sorta holding me up on the stardom trip, eh? But so it goes, eh? One day, eh? You know, it still feels the same. Well same as it did yesterday, eh? Can't really remember how it felt last time. Too long ago, eh? But I guess it ain't. It just feels it. God life can be so fucking mundane sometimes. Holiday's are cool though. Just been on one. To Marlborough. It was great. Rental car. Wineries. Me girl. Money to spend. No worries. Then we get back home. Back to work. Back to mundane. But that is the way it falls I guess, eh? Never mind. Yeah, bollocks.

day one hundred and ninety two

Well, how long has it been matey? Yeah, about that long, eh. A lots happened since then, a new year to start with, practically half of one actually. Comings and goings, just come back, matter of fact. House-sitting. Has it moments, ups and downs. Oh, I have lived some more too. Has it moments, ups and downs. You know how it is. Nah, I don't suppose you do really do you? Got me a real nice girlfriend too, and a job. Yeah, marriage counsellor for an old school friend. Nah, he ain't old, it is just an expression that is all. Oh, shut up. Been back at varsity a while. Has it moments, ups and downs. How could I forget, Dad lost his job, got himself self-employed, but applied for other jobs, still waiting for words though. Really not much has changed, but a hell of a lot. Oh, buggered if I know what it means, it just sounds good, now shut up. 'Til next.

day one hundred and ninety one

Oh the fun. Oh the excitement. Oh the joy. Oh the bloody boredom. Oh the fucking tedium. Oh the monotony. Oh it's life on the dole, of course. Lethargy, boredom, apathy and all that. Christ this is dull. Get up, go to bed, get up, go to bed, and I've only been doing it for one day. Better luck in the next one, mate (life that is).

day one hundred and ninety

Do you know how disturbing it is to have someone who likes going around shouting about how strange they are say "I wish I was normal" in the middle of a conversation with you? I do. I have had it done to me. Frightening. God I'm glad I'm unique.

day one hundred and eighty nine

A friend of mine worked out a concept which could save democracy. As a concept it is brilliant. As an actual practical idea it has its downfalls. His idea - get rid of Party politics i.e. have people standing as independents, with their own ideas and views. Sounds fair when you compare it to the democracy of today whereby we have the right to choose who is going to stuff up the country, but have absolutely no say in how the country should be run (except by basing our ideas/opinions on pre-election promises which may or may not hold post-election). The only people who do actually have a say in the running of the country are the politicians, and Party members who help decide on Party policy. It is hardly democratic at all. Party politics do detract from democracy, because if you are in that party you are compelled to agree with everything they do, and if you are in the opposition you are compelled to disagree with everything done, or fair losing face. Party politics detract from democracy, so get rid of Party politics and save democracy. It makes good sense. The main problem, as I see it, with this idea is that most politicians are to some extent egotistical. This would mean that, in the case of New Zealand, you get 94 egotistical people running the country, each with their own views on how the country should be run, and not being able to accept others views, be they right or wrong. That, in the long run, or even in the short, would not be in the least bit beneficial to the country, which is not good. Try the idea on a smaller scale, like an island with a very small population, and it may work, but on such an island, democracy probably already exists in a form better than elsewhere, so it would be rather pointless really.

day one hundred and eighty eight

No I haven't been sleeping with Philippa you crude bugger, it's just that my sleep is spending a lot of time with her.

day one hundred and eighty seven

I've got to go to bed to catch up with my sleep, because it's been spending a lot of time with Mr. Happy lately, and Mr. Happy has moved in with Philippa.

day one hundred and eighty six

Yeehaa! Sucked all you others who haven't. That is all I have to say.

day one hundred and eighty five

You know earlier I told you that I was psychic, well it's true. There's no denying it. The stories I could relate about psychic experiences of late. But I can't be buggered, so I won't.

day one hundred and eighty four

Isn't stupidity a wonderful tool?

day one hundred and eighty three

I'll show you a real man.

day one hundred and eighty two

Well, well, well. Wot 'ave we 'ere then eh? A nice little you know wot, ain't it just? You boys better watch yourselves. You don't know who might come up 'ere and want some, do you? 'Specially them copper type. Right lot of bastards them. I know a few, and they are right little bastards. So you boys just better watch this stuff, and maybe get rid of it, before I call the station. And if you don't, we'll be splitting it between us, and you won't get none. And don't come complaining, none, cos the chief will tell you where to stick your bloody problem, and you won't like that none, cos 'e's a right mean bastard, 'e is.

day one hundred and eighty one

So the sheep have taken over, and been ate by corn cobs, but at least they can't feed or else there would be trouble, and the insane mightn't be, so everyone will think wrongly and throw up, because conformity is a disease of human nature. But what will be done about the likes of you and me and me and you and you and me and you? It will be genocide, mass destruction of illogic and stupidity and Pythonesqueians. A sad loss to the apes and cucumbers, not to mention the flatworms and microphages. Oh dear, I just don't know what to do. Maybe someone can save us, maybe someone can't. Never mind, we can just eat him instead.

day one hundred and eighty

Well that was fun.

day one hundred and seventy nine

Just recently I have been writing some letters to this person in Christchurch whom I don't know. I thought I would share with you my latest sacrifice, because it has the ability to go down in
literary history as one of the stupidest letters ever writ.

Dear Julie,

I must thank you from the depths of my proboscis for the delight and insomnia I received via your lovely words of wit and wisdom. You shall never know the misery of my sanity.

Your abilities astound me. Very few people know about Schrodely Manchi Fresqau III, and we're all of them (well sometimes I am, other times I just forget). But Schrodely doesn't like pink, in fact he detests it, although I rather adore pink things, especially tutus, although I try not to wear them too often. Schrodely is actually lavender, with large cucumber lamp shades, and tends to remain rather prostrate when I try to ride him, so we just do other things together (but I daren't go into the details here).

And by the way, I really love peanuts, especially those ones that bite, but I haven't had any for a while. I think Wellington is in short supply. It's those cannabilistic silicon brain plates which I really hate. They hurt, and make me bleed. I don't like that. Maybe we should stop breeding.

I hope all those lovely, wonderful Canterbury persons are treating you adequately, and that the beautiful Avon doesn't come in your dreams and wash them off with daffodils, for that would be a tragic injustice, not to mention a damn shame, against one so unknown.

Would you please give my love and regards to dear old Hagley, for I miss him dearly. We were once so close, but then he became a tree and multiplied, and I did one or other, but which I never could remember.

I wish you one thousand three hundred and twenty six peaceful and contented arachnida poda in your submarine porridgy stuff. And I have asked my brother's second father-in-law's cousin's (thrice removed) mother's aunt's nephew's bestest friend, Dangermouse, to protect your left arm from any poisoned balloon-shaped thingies, which you may happen to walk upon.

May your life be full of joy and happiness and strange men. May your bed not be (get to know them first).

Yours, very faithfully, with lots and lots and lots and lots of admiring, unrequested love, and a bare knee

Andrew

PS - the broccoli and goldfish sandwiches were very tasty - please send more.

PPS - William also says hello

PPPS - Just before I forget - I'm so glad that you have been waiting all your life to hear from me. I was beginning to lose hope with this world. It's good to know that there are still people out there who care. I'm going to see the bank manager tomorrow about the mortgage, and the ring should be with the couriers.

day one hundred and seventy eight

I could be in love, I don't know. We went out again today. I could be in love, I don't know. It's one of those funny feelings, not really anything, but something good. Not really anything, but something confusing. Not really love, but something.

day one hundred and seventy seven

George Bush isn't such a big a bastard after all. Sure, when it comes to Iraq he is still a bastard, but he is making history (again). He has taken some very important steps to full nuclear disarmament, and it makes me feel so good. All that is needed is for other nuclear armed, and capable, nations to join the party. All hail CND.

day one hundred and seventy six

Life is full of If Only's.

day one hundred and seventy five

If only I could find someone to spend the rest of my life with in peaceful harmony, then I might be happy. Then I might stop dwelling on that particular 'if only', and have more time to spend on all the others.

day one hundred and seventy four

Life is full of If Only's.

day one hundred and seventy three

Last night some of us sat on a beach. It was really nice. We talked and flirted and drunk (real tequila) and walked and sang and ate and danced and laughed and cried (well you can skip the crying bit). I sat with a very nice liberated female for two hours apparently (it seemed like half an hour). We talked about death. It was incredible, and very personal. I find myself quite attracted to her, but we won't go out or anything. If only we could. But we won't, because I won't let myself, and she probably won't let herself either. Anyway friendship can be much more satisfying.

day one hundred and seventy two

It's happened. Denver the last dinosaur from hell has removed Danger Mouse from our TV sets. Oh the angst. Oh the tyranny. What ever shall we do? Denver, Satans henchman, kill him, kill them all. If only DM were here to help us. He would know what to do.

day one hundred and seventy one

Oh the fun. Oh the excitement. Oh the joy. Oh the bloody boredom. Oh the fucking tedium. Oh the monotony. Oh it's the holidays, of course.

day one hundred and seventy

Holiday time again. Time to catch up on all the work you didn't do during term because you were too busy socialising and holidaying. But that's life, and I don't care if today is too nice a day be sitting inside studiously studying like a student, because it sure beats being outside and enjoying yourself, doesn't it?

day one hundred and sixty nine

I saw Monty Python's The Meaning Of Life yesterday. It didn't answer any questions.

day one hundred and sixty eight

I just heard that some guys I went to school with died in an accident last night. They had been drinking. It sort of hits home when it is people you know, and not just names you hear on the radio, or read in the paper, who might just as well not have existed for all you care (oh dear, more dead drunks, never mind). But I knew these guys. I talked to them. Some I would even have referred to as friends at the time. I haven't seen them for a couple of years, and now I won't ever again. Such a waste of life. What's the whole bloody point to it all? Why?

day one hundred and sixty seven

I am not a prat!

day one hundred and sixty six

I forgot something, not that you need to be told, because you all know that Stiletto is a double secret triple agent working for us, them, and two other people (although we are supposed to believe that he is a triple secret double agent working only for us and them). And you all know on days off he works with his quintuplet siamese cousin, Alfred, to help in decoding the entire ancient calligraphic writings of the purple Monaquichian flying water shrew of Outer Inner Omogadomphodan. But what of Nero, I hear you ask. Well, he is just Nero - a stupid fuzzy white worm,with an IQ nearing mine. Inconsequential really, wouldn't you say? But still we must warn DM. Maybe Agent 27 could help (it is Tuesday after all), but first we must find him, or whatever he may be today. DM must know, or how will he save the world from the tyranny of evil and chaos and coffee drinkers?

day one hundred and sixty five

Emergency. Tragedy. I just worked it out. Penfold and Greenback are really twins brothers. Someone should tell DM, but who? I can't, no one would believe me, me being hedonistically insane and all. But DM's life could be in mortal danger. Penfold could turn on him at any time. And Penfold can have some nasty turns, I know, I've seen him. (Yesterday he turned into a girl.) And what about Colonel K.? He really works for the antarctic sea gorillas as a caffeine egg, and we all know what that could mean! Someone has to warn DM that his closest allies aren't, and that he could be cut at any time. Please someone tell him, please, just so that I can retain my sanity, please.

day one hundred and sixty four

I am not a poet any more. I am a writer of short stories. What does that make me? A short-author, but I am six foot tall.

day one hundred and sixty three

I will not write any more of this until I write some more. So there.

day one hundred and sixty two

I have not written any words lately, have I ?

day one hundred and sixty one

Well did you ever?

day one hundred and sixty

I have just come back from a uh let's see, went away Monday, come back Thursday, uh four day holiday. It was fun, just four guys (i.e. me and three others), some drink and nothing to do. A good experience of the 'male bonding syndrome effect'. I would like to tell you about all the really marvellous, crazy things we got up to, but I can't remember a thing after we arrived at the lake (Ferry), and walked inside the cabin and opened the first of many (I assume) Speights (the superior piss enjoyed in the great hotels/hostels of the south), and the time I crawled up the stairs to my bedroom. I do not know the reason for this amnesia, but never mind because it was felt good anyway. P.S. if I ever do decide to illustrate this book you may see some of the artistic photography I did.

day one hundred and fifty nine

I am amazingly tired, partly because I have not had much sleep lately for no particular reason, and partly because I am amazingly bored. I am going away tomorrow to get amazingly pissed as a newt and pholisyphical, but for now I am just going to go to bed. Good noight.

day one hundred and fifty eight

You really have no idea do you, just no idea whatsoever. Where have you spent all this existence? Trying to dig yourself out of all your pig swill, no doubt. Try getting a brain that works next time, you must be due for one surely. I mean how many have you had? Two, that is right, two. And how many lives have you had? Yes twenty bloody seven. You must be getting a proper brain soon, unless they hate you so much, that they are going to make you a camel next, or more likely, a round worm in some Africans intestine. But it will be a step up for you anyway.

day one hundred and fifty seven

To thyne own self be true. Well I try to be.

day one hundred and fifty six

Knowledge is only what society finds acceptable as explanation. It does not mean that society really knows anything.

day one hundred and fifty five

How can you pretend to be knowledgable, when all you know has been told to you by people who are no more knowledgable than you?

day one hundred and fifty four

How can something exist if there is nothing there to see it or feel it?

day one hundred and fifty three

How can something make a noise if nothing is there to hear it?

day one hundred and fifty two

A little while ago I told you about a question I often pose myself. A question along the lines of: when a tree falls in a deserted forest, does it make a noise? Ah, you remember, good. Well I would like you to empty your mind as you contemplate the answer, and when you find it tell me, and I will say that you are wrong (unless of course you are right, but a prefer the left maybe).

day one hundred and fifty one

I have been a housewife today. It was not too bad. Get up about ten thirty-ish, after reading for an hour or so, have a shower, make myself a hearty brunch of scrambled egg and bacon, do some washing, hang it out, bake some shortbread and chocolate slice, perform some minor veterinary surgery, and do the dishes. I enjoyed myself.

day one hundred and fifty

I was just thinking about someone I know. His name is Richard. He is a very strange person, with an obscure taste in food. But I suppose it is better than being a strange food, with an obscure taste in people.

day one hundred and forty nine

I met an old school friend yesterday. His is really stupid because he is working, and not bumming around as a university student, but it was his decision. But I must admit his job does sound fun. He works for the ANZ as a professional bank robber. It is his job, or so he tells me, to travel around the country, and rob branches of the ANZ. For his sins he gets paid good wages, full travel expenses, and a team of top class lawyers (just in case he gets caught). Apparently he has to inform the heads of where he is intending his next hiaste, just so they know it was him and not some real crim. He really enjoys it, and it does sound like fun, really keep you on your toes and thinking, but he does not like the fact that he has to return the cash as soon as possible, so he is now thinking of doing a big job and then taking off to Brazil or Switzerland for a holiday. I might join him if he remembers about my request.

day one hundred and forty eight

Nothing to write, nothing to say. This is the end, my only friend, the end. Thanks Jim, inspiring words. Words that make you want to get up at dawn and put your boots on, and pick a face from the ancient gallery, and walk on down the hall, and kill your brother and kill your sister and kill your father and rape your mother. Really awesome stuff, Jim, really bad.

day one hundred and forty seven

Yeah, what a weird sensation, killing yourself when you are already dead. Man, what a buzz, I think I will do it again tomorrow. I need today to recover, you see. I am never doing drugs or alcohol again, I will just kill myself when I feel like getting high, it lasts longer. Eternally, I think.

day one hundred and forty six

It is true, honest, this book did get burnt in the fire, it only exists as a clump of wet, soggy, black ashes. Man am I annoyed. All that effort, all that time, wasted, for nothing. Now no-one can appreciate my true brilliance, because it has all been burned. It is so depressing, I think I will kill myself. Good bye cruel world, I am leaving you today, good bye, good bye, good bye. P.S. I actually died in the fire with all my inspiration and creation.

day one hundred and forty five

I am sorry, I must admit it, but Richy Archibald-Graisophilis does not actually exist, and neither do his policies, well all except the last one, that was a bit of electioneering by me. I have informed many people of my defence policy, and shall be appointed defense minister in time, I can assure you, and the world will love me for it, and I will get my fourth Nobel Prize, and become even more famous and loving and caring and obnoxious.

day one hundred and forty four

Well thank you for all those better suggestions, it is a shame none of them dealt with the situation I was writing about, but many of them were very good. For example, Bailter Blowfish of Te Awamutu wrote in suggesting I baste my trout in a vinegarette of white wine, egg yolk, cinnamon, orange peel jalapeno peppers, and a sprinkling of road tar. I will remember it next time I cook some trout. Another suggestion I got was from Mr. Alfred Blank of Takapuna, who suggested that we kill off all the damn realty agents so that he could sell his wife and family. A nice idea, but somewhat idealistic I feel, especially if your wife and children are as disgustingly insipid as mine. I received a grand plan from Richy Archibald-Graisophilis who lived in Waimaruku, concerning the upcoming elections, and how he wants to start his own party and become PM. He has all his policies well thought out, which is good, and his economic policies are going to be a life-saver for this country. Firstly there would be no Social Welfare, all those on benefits would be flown out of the country if they could not find a job. Employment-wise New Zealand will return to full employment, with subsistence farming and encouragement of small business growth, especially in the areas where there are export chances such as home-brewing, drug crop production, and money laundering (and if you can not get a job you will be exiled). And the one I really like, the budget for the Armed Forces would be slashed, and all personnel armed with water pistols. This would serve the dual purpose of saving money, and being a great offense against possible invasion because who would want to invade a country wish is stupid enough to use water pistols as its main defensive weapon? You would think that the whole population is completely crazy, and therefore likely to withstand any invasion attempts, so you might as well not try. I was astounded, at last an intelligent, logical politician (well would-be politician anyway). There were lots more fantastically impressive ideas, but I lost them when I burnt my house down yesterday. I also lost all my manuscripts, and everything I owned. It was a bummer, the happiest day of my life.

day one hundred and forty three

Can you remember a few pages back, I told you about this song I wrote, but could not find the title? Yeah, good. Well I found the title, when I was not looking for it of course, and it is perfect for the song. But there is a little problem with it, and that is that the only person I know who can pronounce it is unlikely to be involved in my recording career, which means I will have to take a recording of Pip introducing the song to all my gigs, and that could be very annoying, especially if I should lose it. If you have any better suggestions, please contact me. P.S. the title is actually 'Floccinaucinihilipilification'.

day one hundred and forty two

Do you know what I saw today? Of course you do not, so I will tell you. I saw three people sitting down reading this book. I was really amazed, so I just forgot about it,and started thinking logically for a change.

day one hundred and forty one

I know.

day one hundred and forty

Well, that makes a change.

day one hundred and thirty nine

O.K. son, just this once, mind.

day one hundred and thirty eight

Well can I?

day one hundred and thirty seven

I did.

day one hundred and thirty six

You never.

day one hundred and thirty five

If it was not for me, you would not be writing this book.

day one hundred and thirty four

Let me have the last bloody word you bastard, after all it is my book.

day one hundred and thirty three

You do not have to like it

day one hundred and thirty two

Well I do not like it.

day one hundred and thirty one

I am allowed to. Parents rule 355, subsection (c)., you are always allowed to do whatever you tell your children not to do. When you reach my level of maturity, it gives you automatic right to be a hypocrite.

day one hundred and thirty

Why, you used it before.

day one hundred and twenty nine

That is enough of that language son.

day one hundred and twenty eight

Likely story, anyway, I told you to leave, and never come back, or as some people say, fuck off and don't come back.

day one hundred and twenty seven

You asked me a question. I was just answering it.

day one hundred and twenty six

There you go again. You have got to have the last bloody word.

day one hundred and twenty five

Sometimes.

day one hundred and twenty four

Always have to have the last word, don't you. You never let me finish a conversation do you?

day one hundred and twenty three

Oh yes you will.

day one hundred and twenty two

No, I mean it this time, go away or I will never let you back again, and worse still, I will never speak to you again.

day one hundred and twenty one

It is my duty son, to fuck you off as much, and often as possible. You will discover that on day my boy. One day, if you become a father, which is highly unlikely, but never mind, eh my boy?

day one hundred and twenty

Did you really have to tell them that just when this was getting interestingly confrontational? You really like ruining my life don't you?

day one hundred and nineteen

Get stuffed son. I am your father, it is my duty to look after you in times like this.

day one hundred and eighteen

Look, go away, or I shall be forced to ring the Police and complain about trespassers.

day one hundred and seventeen

No it is not.

day one hundred and sixteen

Oh, thank you very much, that is the last bloody time you will appear in anything I do, you ... you ... you You.

day one hundred and fifteen

That is alright, anything for a mate, you wee little filial of a drosophila wheel.

day one hundred and fourteen

Thank you for that highly intelligent comment, you stupid pillock.

day one hundred and thirteen

Total and utter nonsense, that is what I say, talto adn etutr snseonen.

day one hundred and twelve

Every word above was true, or I am not the man that thinks he is not the man I am not.

day one hundred and eleven

I was just thinking to myself, well it is a bit stupid to think to someone else is it not, that you have not actually read any of my marvellous pieces of poetry, unless you have been intelligent enough to go out and by one of my books of poems which is highly unlikely because none of them have been published yet, and that is a real shame, because some of my poems are just so fantastically astounding that you would never know that they were written by an insecure, paranoid, untalented little git like me, but that is part of the wonders of art, the fact that anyone can write anything they feel like writing, but only some have the true creative ability to make total and utter confusion out of a blank piece of paper, a confusion so confusing, so perplexing, that he, and only he, can know the true meaning behind the psychedelic, drug-crazed images he paints out of the simplest words and phrases of the most uninspiring language ever to exist, and yet he can still remain semi-sane while he describes the pathetic world of depression and drunkenness he sits in while getting aroused by the flames of virtue he sees in the lives of his strange and obscure friends that exist only as figments of his dreams and desires, or the passions of hunger he feels when watching rats crawl across the kitchen floor chased by partly flambed cockroaches to meet their doom at the hands of my kitchen wizz food processor, and when that all gets to much for me, I just slip in a couple of tabs, or pop a few pills, and get really out of it and imagine a life of reality, and that can be amazingly heavy sometimes, let me tell you, and then I try to concentrate on the things happening around me, but it is difficult because of the effort and brain capacity needed to attempt such a crazy feat, so I just slip into unconsciousness and dream of trees falling with no one to hear them, and then things start happening to my mind and it opens up and words flow out through my pen onto little pieces of paper lying around the place, and a poem takes form based around an idea and I get really excited and confused at what I am saying because it never makes sense until the last line, which is always the hardest one, when I collapse in a state not unlike sexual orgasm, breathing heavily with sweat pouring from every pore of my body, until I relax and then disappear from this life to see how the rats are cooking, and say gudday to some mates I met earlier in my affair.

day one hundred and ten

No letters yet. Are you all as confused as I am about the strange happenings that occur in my head? I really need to know what exactly does take place in my mind, just so that I can feel like I have at least accomplished something in my life, instead of just sitting around and contemplating everything like philosophers do. I am a scientist, and I need to find the answers and have proof of these answers. But there is just one slight hitch there, and that is that fact does not exist. A theory can never be proven, only disproven, and that really cocks up life does it not?

day one hundred and nine

As Black Francis, that Boston short person, has been known to say, where is my mind? Take off your dress and send it to me.

day one hundred and eight

It was.

day one hundred and seven

Well, has anyone yet discovered how my mind works? If you have please contact me at any of the addresses mentioned previously, because I would really like to know.

day one hundred and six

So many men, so little time. My horticulture teacher had that on a keyring of hers. If only, eh?

day one hundred and five

I had a thought last night, after a visitation from Jim Morrison (yes the Jim Morrison from The Doors, what is it to you). My thought was that artistic talent/inspiration and insecurity go hand in hand. One must stem from the other, but which one comes first? You see, Jim was an insecure person, John was insecure (especially at the height of his fame), Andy was insecure, I am insecure (and I am still waiting for my fifteen minutes). All amazingly talented individuals who are, or were for three of the four, insecure people. It is a scary thought, but one that unfortunately could very well be true. I just hope insecurity does not lead to excess, and fame does not lead to death. Maybe I do not want to become famous anymore. So much insecurity, so little time.

day one hundred and four

I was talking to a friend yesterday about someone we both know, someone whom I dislike because he is so shallow and ignorant. But this person we were talking about is also very sexist and very racist, and I told my friend that I was also racist. He said that almost everyone is racist in some way, and that made me feel better about my racism, and it is also very true, which makes it even more poignant to the rest of you as well.

day one hundred and three

Today Nic told me that he and I were siamese triplets, the fourth one died. It was very frightening as you would well understand if you have ever seen Nic, not that he is ugly or anything, it is just that he can never compare to my amazing attractiveness without being called ugly. Compare him to anyone else and he might be good-looking. It was also frightening because he is not human, and I am anti-matter, and that is a really strange concept considering we are genetically the same. So much for science, eh? It is all just a load of hypothetical, theoretical nonsense with no intelligent logic or basis at all. That is why we are both currently studying BSc's at the moment. We need to find the real reasons behind our genetic existence, or in Nic's case, botanic decomposition.

day one hundred and two

I had a new theory of the creation today. But to discover this you will have to read it in one of my books of poems, because I explain it in poetry form. The name of the poem is 'The New Genesis', and it is very good, with sound scientific basis, although it only explains the creation of the universe, and mentions nothing about life, but I will work on that. And when I have it all worked out, I will claim my Nobel prize (probably in literature or peace rather than any scientific category, but I don't care if no-one believes me. I know the world is really trying to get rid of me, but it won't work I tell you, because I'm a bastard, and I'm always going to be, so there).

day one hundred and one

I was just going through a pile of papers I have which contain little bits of inspiration from the past few months and I discovered this little rave about some Maoris. I am well aware of the fact that what I say will be taken as racist by many, unless you already are racist, in which case you will love it, and I would like to kid myself by saying I am not racist, but I can not. This is because I am. I am, however not proud of this fact, and only dislike certain members of these minority races (one being the group who I will talk about). I have currently, and have had in the past, friends from such minorities, but because of their different attitude to a large number of their type, I have been willing to befriend them and not be ashamed of it, or racist towards them. But, the question I posed myself on this day way back when was: why is it that Maori activists are the most intelligent Maori, and consequently, must have gone through the so-called pakeha systems they are now rebelling against? (Those of you who are not New Zealander's and have no interest in race relations might as well move to the next paragraph to lessen boredom, I hope (because I don't no what I will be rambling about in that one).) The answer I have goes like this. Surely there is something wrong with them, if they can use our institutions to their advantage when it suits them, and yet, later say that these very same institutions are anti-Maori and so forth, when these Maori's have actually proved them not to be. I coined the term 'racial hypocrisy' to describe this action. Dr. Ranginui Walker, where did he get his doctorate from? I bet it certainly would not have been got from a marae, or Weetbix packet, so it must have come from one of our racist universities, which can not really be that racist if they let Maori's get doctorates, can they now.

day one hundred

I have this theory. You know how a lot of Kiwi groups leave New Zealand in order to find fame and fortune overseas, and for some strange reason end up in Australia looking for it. Well, I think that our music fraternity must banish some of these groups to Australia because they just do not have what it takes to make it at home. It is only really semi-talented artists who go to Oz, while our exceptionally talented artists get rides to England and America. This can not be just fate. There has to be more to it than that, and I think I know the answer. It has to do with the fact that, generally speaking, the only decent Australian bands all have Kiwis in them to give the group that little edge. Well, there are exceptions like INXS (who are going down hill, proving they need Kiwi input), and Midnight Oil (who now actually have a Kiwi bass player). But the question arises why do we send these people to Australia in the first place. Why not keep their talent and use them at home? This is easily answered. New Zealand radio does not give a monkeys about talent, especially good Kiwi talent. New Zealand is over-flowing with talent now, so we get rid of some of this talent to the Australians while keeping the best for ourselves. Makes sense does it not. But, you say, what about the groups who go to England and the States. Well they are another story. They are the really talented artists who a) have been commercially successful here, and think they have what it takes to make it there, or b) been critically successful (but not so commercially successful) here, and definitely have what it takes to conquer the world (if only those with the power had the brains to notice it). That is why such groups as The Chills, and The Verlaines, and The Bats, and The Clean, and The Exponents, and Straitjacket Fits have all gone on to bigger things overseas, predominantly in England. We can really scrub The Exponents from the above list because they had to wait to get back home before signing to a major international label, but England was good for their music and now they will conquer the world's airwaves. But, of course, we must keep some talent hidden from the rest of the world for fear of them being ostracised for their amazing talents and originality. I am of course talking about the likes of Chris Knox and his sometime duo Tall Dwarfs, and others like The Dribbling Darts Of Love, Let's Planet, and the Sombertones, and plenty more amazingly talented artists. It is a cunning plan if ever I saw one. Send some slight talent to Australia, just to make Australia look good. Send some proper talent to the Northern Hemisphere, to prove that New Zealand really is the be all and end all of musical talent (forget about Manchester or Seattle, the music/culture capital of the world id Wellington). And keep some talent at home just for our own enjoyment. Brilliant, if only I thought of it myself, we could have gotten rid of Dragon years ago.

day ninety nine

Do you ever get this feeling of depression when your parents come home from a holiday, or are you not privileged enough to have parents who, at least, biannually must take a break from us and cavort around the country, or the world by themselves. I often feel a bit let down when they come home. It is not because they have not brought me presents or anything, it is just due to the fact that I have gotten use to them being away and living a freer lifestyle, and then they come home and things change a little. I must admit, sometimes they only have to go out for the day for me to get a sense of real independence and they come home and upset everything. It is sad, but never mind, I intend to move out in the future, sooner than later hopefully, so I can feel independent. I will probably be glad to come home for a meal away from flatmates then. But hey, such is life. Eh!

day ninety eight

Apparently the Israelis have discovered a link between myopia and high intelligence. Something everyone has known about for years, but these guys have proved it statistically. But they can not explain this link. I can. It is because you can not be perfect. You can not have good looks, artistic talent, intelligence, athletic skill, wit perfect sight. Perfection just is not allowed. Look at me, I am as near perfect as you can get but the bastards would not let me be totally perfect so they fucked up my eyes for me. What wankers.

ps i am sick of writing semi-unintelligible drivel which takes hours to understand properly so i have started using proper punctuation etc as you should have noticed if you are in the lest bit myopic

day ninety seven

thank you emma

day ninety six

god is god

day ninety five

well here we are again in this mean old town and youre so far away from me and where are you when the sun go down youre so far away from me said that already but the same thing is happening except this time it is something really important being printed not some shitty crap worth nothing i mean this is worth twenty five percent and that is not nothing i can tell you but i will not because i am sure that you do not want to know about the philosophical implications of darwinism do you oh you do well fuck off because i am not going to tell you read about it yourself you lazy little shit

day ninety four

i am currently studying ie back at university and as such i have very little time to set aside for writing menial little paragraphs in some stupid bloody book so forgive me if you do not hear from me for about ten months or so please

day ninety three

thank you mr descartes

day ninety two

therefore reality does not exist

day ninety one

dreams are indistinguishable from reality

day ninety

dreams are indistinguishable from reality

day eighty nine

things in dreams do not exist

day eighty eight

cogito ergo sum

day eighty seven

computers are bloody marvellous weapons are they not

day eighty six

bollocks

day eighty five

the end of yet another thrilling page

day eighty four

talking about english i am doing some in a biology course i am currently studying so you think it is strange do you well it is not because we have been looking at metaphysics and epistemology and stuff like that which is something we did in english the fact that i kept on saying what the fuck are we studying physics for trev was of no consequence but nevertheless we continued studying hawking and others and i still did not understand but now being an epistemological existentialist i am getting the hang of this metaphysics thing and trev would be proud of me even if it did take two years and an old taxonomist to help me out but never mind trev things could have been worse you could still be trying to teach it to me yourself and would that not be a real bastard ah trev you old hippie you

day eighty three

neglectation is a crime of immense procrastination and vice versa what do you mean neglectation is not a word you ignorant little weaselly ignoramus it is a word because i just made it up so there and do not you hassle my english just because i failed all the english exams i er ahh failed which may have been two in my entire life does not mean that you can hassle my ability to make up nouns as i please and anyway what do you know absolutely bloody nothing because you have no brain cells you are immaterial you do not exist

day eighty two

i feel sick i feel bloody sick my nose is constantly blocked and i have this terrible cough and my jaw hurts sporadically and it is bloody annoying because i sniff all the time and have gone through about five hankies today and i still have a few hours to go and it wakes me up at night so i do not get much sleep and i am tired and unhappy but it seems to stop when i get outside and start up again when i go into lectures and things which annoys not only myself but other people too and i wish it would just go away because i hate it and it is getting right up my nose ps thanks nic you bastard it is all your fault that i am like this because i caught this off you at the tall dwarfs

day eighty one

are you reading this or are you just dreaming that you are reading or are you dreaming that you are dreaming or are you reading that you are dreaming or are you just imagining it all and not really doing anything and more importantly does the world exist when you are not watching it or does it just disappear or are you really real or are you just dreaming of your existence and the existence of the world and knowledge and the universe and your wife and everything

day eighty

people who are insulted by the fact that howard morrison new zealand entertainer middle of the road boring old fuddy extraordinair may have suffered heart problem because he smoked are silly little prats who are obviously ignorant of the damage that tobacco and smoking can do to the human body and i feel that people who smoke deserve all that is coming to them and i just think that it was wrong of people to criticise ash and consequently get an apology from them because of the fact that howard is unfortunately a well known public figure but this should not mean that medical fact can be insulting to him while not to other lesser known ie normal working class people is itself insulting and reeks of propaganda in as much as those people like sir howard are above the normal diseases of the rest of the country and that sucks and by the way george you are still a bastard and saddam you are still alive

day seventy nine

for those imbeseals amongst my adoring public who are struggling over the date of this historic event yesterday was thursday the twenty eighth of february and saddam is still alive and georgie is still a bastard

day seventy eight

Forty-two days, three hours after the air offensive began the war is now over, albeit conditionally. America has won, Saddam has lost. Democracy wins again. Democracy always prevails. Saddam is still alive, but not for much longer one would presume. The Gulf is still being run by the Americans and for much longer one would presume.

day seventy seven

war is not over now but it was a nice topical quote so I thought i would just slip it in because war could be over now but it is not yet because georgie porgie is such a bastard that he wants to prove that he can win something more than an election and will not put an end to this bloody literally and metaphorically war

day seventy six

war is over if you want it war is over now

day seventy five

this is a pointless piece of stuff that i am writing just for the sake of writing in order that i will finish this sooner and the book will therefore be over much quicker but then again it might not be over much quicker because i might in fact write more and if i write more it will in fact take longer to finish than if i write less all of which makes perfect sense to me but because you are an illogical brainless stupid moronic piece of flea powder organic decomposable waste product it would be a very hard concept for you to comprehend and therefore you do not know what the fuck i am going on about so shut up and go to your little hovel you call home and extract some possum turd from your foot

day seventy four

i am still bloody amazed

day seventy three

peace is no longer possible

day seventy two

there are too many bloody mcs in this world so why would einstein want to square them the stupid dead kraut

day seventy one

mick jones for i believe that is his name you know the man behind big audio dynamite well he would have us believe that he understands the theory of relativity because he did a song about it but i can not remember it so it was probably all bullshit anyway

day seventy

if great minds think alike why is it that only one man truly understands the theory of relativity you know e equals mc squared and he is dead anyway does it not make you think that someone is lying when they say that great minds think alike because i am positive that great minds definitely do not think alike and hence that is what sets them apart as great minds just look at all the great minds of the past century we have thomas edison the worlds greatest ever inventor if great minds think why is it that no one else could invent the electric light or the phonograph or any of the other one thousand and ninety five inventions edison patented and what about that great new zealander richard pierce or was it the wright brothers and dear mr igor ivanovich sikorsky defector who each invented forms of flight aeroplane and helicopter respectively surely any great mind could have done that if great minds think alike and then there was old adolf the greatest dictator of the twentieth century and hence obviously one of a very great mind so how come no one else decided to take on the world and lose it can only be because no one else had a mind as great as hitlers at that time or at least no one in power anyway and of course we can not forget the great minds of john lennon and lou reed who are were possibly the only great minds to think alike or at least along the same lines as each other and rewrite the book on popular music for the next generations to learn from and copy and stuff like that but generally i think that great minds do not think alike only that fools never differ

day sixty nine

i went to a party last night and there was this guy there called duane and he was trying to drink one dozen beer in six hours for no other reason than to drink one dozen beer in six hours so he was doing it for the fun of it if indeed it can be fun getting so pissed out of your skull that the only thing you are really capable of is throwing up and you can hardly walk or talk and your liver is in need of some drastic cleansing like a stomach pump or something but anyway when i left duane was on bottle seven and was to put it sweetly fucked and had about three hours to finish five and a half bottles i wonder if he yawned technicolour like before two am the time he was due to complete this momentous achievement i wonder what carls carpet looked like because it was covered in spillages when i left and after duane finished i dare say it was in a bad state but never mind because it was not my carpet and that is all that matters is it not because we all know the golden rule of partying and so forth is to make as much noise and mess as possible as long as you are at someone elses place the more you dislike the host the more fun the party can slash should be

day sixty eight

i am even more confused

day sixty seven

i am still amazed

day sixty six

peace is possible

day sixty five

lou reed is the one and only

day sixty four

john lennon is a martyred god

day sixty three

chris knox is god

day sixty two

al bundy is god

day sixty one

martin phillipps is god

day sixty

shayne carter is god

day fifty nine

pirated records cds and tapes damage your equipment buy only genuine wilbury records

day fifty eight

andrew brough is god

day fifty seven

guy chadwick is god

day fifty six

johnny marr is god

day fifty five

morrisey is god

day fifty four

robert smith is god

day fifty three

no it is not

day fifty two

this is page twenty five line five word thirty two

day fifty one

i think i am not dead

day fifty

i am amazed

day forty nine

did you find a conclusive answer to my question you did not what do you mean that the question was incomplete i thought it was quite obvious what was meant by it i mean when one asks why you give an answer and in this case the answer given should have been something along the lines of this the metaphysical reasoning behind the cerebral cortex only enhances the effect of the bright fractels while the cyclohalix configuration on the inner micropinocytic body not only reduces but also amplifies the electronic hues of the biomechanic sclerenchyma on the small but increasing cheesy mandelbrots which are in fact loaves of bread named in memory of nelson mandala but the crux of the answer concerns the biochemical compoundation of the minute follicle stimulating growth beads and their use in the makeup industry where it is assumed that the particles are in fact used in the manufacture of spare body parts such as aorta valves and renal capacitators and cellular antipedalism molecules and of course cephalocerebrospinaltorax protein for essential body metabolism processes or if you were really intelligent which you obviously are not otherwise you would have realised that the question was actually finished and you did not therefore making you the most unintelligent inarticulate ignorant moronic abiotic imaginary living thing that has ever existed on the face of this of this of this ah computer screen yes but if you were really intelligent and we have just proven that you are not by any means the answer you would have given would have been because

day forty eight

i have an unrhetorical question i would like you all to ponder therefore making it unrhetorical because if it were rhetorical i would be the one answering it but because i am asking you the question so that you may answer it it is therefore unrhetorical and the question is this why

day forty seven

a quote for all you discerning quote collectors out there in sightless reading land discovered on a concrete wall while cruising through this fair city of ours last night and it is a bloody good one and highly topical too it is this war is menstruation envy brilliant is it not i thought so and if you do not like this bloody war you should also think so otherwise you are a hypocrite

day forty six

i am unique distinctly exceptional and those guiness people agree you see they did not believe it when i told them i was the only blind man or organism for that matter that could actually see but they were astounded and overwhelmed and bewildered and even perplexed well they did not believe it anyway when they found out that i am the only living twins but obviously not ordinary twins but sort of underdeveloped siamese twins because i am in fact twins that is that i myself this one being does in fact consist of not one but two people making me very unique and rare and worth millions i already bought me some life insurance and if i die i will get five million nine hundred and sixty two thousand four hundred and three dollars and eighty nine point five seven two three one six cents which will come in very handy but because i am never going to die i will have to invent some insurance scam to get the cash anyways i am going on the cover of the nineteen fifty three cover of the guiness book of world records because of my uniqueness i just got told that today but i am no quite sure why the next one due to be published is not the nineteen ninety two issue but i will not argue with these great people

day forty five

john lennon was shot in a cia conspiracy involving mark david chapman and john winston ono lennon and the central intelligence agency i dare you to prove otherwise bastard

day forty four

al bundy is good

day forty three

al bundy is my mother i think unless i have been taught wrongly by that stupid wench of an excuse for a female they call my teacher and considering the fact that she is a woman then she probably does not know the first thing about kids in the first place she probably thinks that storks deliver them when you are not looking but everyone knows males are found in your dads jug of beer at the pub and females pop out the exhaust pipe of the car just when they are not wanted therefore setting them up for the rest of their existence ie always popping up when they are not wanted and never doing as ordered by their male betters just ask dad

day forty two

al bundy is god

day forty one

al bundy is my father

day forty

al bundy is god

day thirty nine

i discovered something really interesting today it appears that i am the only blind person in the whole history of blind people right back to the very first blind person who can see is that not really amazing the guiness book people are flying over to see me they arrive tomorrow and they will do some tests and then if all is well we will do a photo shoot so it should be quite a fun entertaining sort of day hopefully what was that your mate the one you meet at the pub he was blind but now he can see yeah well that happens but what are you doing at the pub anyway you are not old enough to go to the pub i mean you only exist in this bloody computer you can not even move so how do you get to the bloody pub son oh i see it was a sort of hypothetical question phrased more as a statement rather than a question involving the fact that there have been recorded cases of blind people gaining their sight through either science or miracle yes i agree but they were blind and could not see now that they can see they are no longer blind whereas myself i am blind and can see that is the great difference between myself and these other people who are or have been blind what are you saying that because i can see i am not blind where did you get that ridiculous notion from oh i see the encyclopedia britannica well they tell lies because i am blind believe me after all i am going to be a politician and we politicians never lie do we you cheeky bugger how dare you say that politicians lie all the time you better watch yourself sonny or soon you will be getting a visit from my hand right up your bloody hard disk anyway we will let the guiness people decide whether i am blind or not and ignore that namby pamby thing you call an encyclopedia what right do they have to dispute my handicap my uniqueness my blindness absolutely bloody none after all they are only british what have they ever done for us here in new zealand absolutely bloody nothing that is right by the way as well as being an anarchist i am also a fervent anti royalist but i suppose you have to be do you not even though i was anti royal before i became pro anarchy but never mind about all that as i said before i am blind and i can see and that makes me the only person in the whole history of this planet to ever have this unique ability and therefore i am better then the rest of you even all you anti bourgeois proletariate working class people who are going to vote me into power come nineteen ninety three but then we could not have someone going into politics whose socioeconomic background and status and all that is actually lower than that of the people he or she god forbid is representing in parliament that is just not done but forget all that fucking political stuff for time being i am blind and you are not otherwise you would not be reading this bloody book

day thirty eight

this book contains thirteen thousand and seven words is that not amazing i find it incredible i also just happen to think it is a lie because i have just written thirty one more words which means the book contains thirteen thousand and thirty eight words but because i have just written some more words then that figure is wrong also it is in fact thirteen thousand and seventy two words plus eight this is really quite incredible you see the more words i write the higher the number of words in the book gets i wonder if anybody has told the royal college of exceedingly bright and nerdy boring scientists about this it must be a revelation and i must be in line for a noble prize in maths or physics or something and that would probably make me the first person to receive the noble prize in two categories which should make me exceedingly famous and rich beyond any anti bourgeois champions dreams and that would just be so fantastic

day thirty seven

does wind fuck you off it fucks me off i went for a ride today in an attempt too increase my fitness for my hockey and it was supposed to be a northerly wind so i decided to ride to upper hutt which is roughly north of where i am living currently so that i would have the wind behind me on my way home and what happens i turn into southward leg and get hit by a fucking headwind from the fucking south so i had to put up with the wind changing between north and south on my journey home and it is fucking annoying but if you drive around in a car all day because you are an environmentally unfriendly person none of this would make the lest bit of sense to you so get out on a bike and do something good for a change ps for those of you who know your new zealand geography i am currently living in a place called eketahuna which is roughly ten kilometres south of upper hutt which is roughly ten kilometres north of eketahuna but by the time this is published the old people will have kicked me out because i am a burden and i will be living at one of the previously mentioned addresses

day thirty six

go away i do not want to speak to you today because you disappointed me with what you did yesterday and now we are not on speaking terms because you are a little cheating lying deviant what was that how can you say you did not do it on purpose you walked in to the place and looked on all the shelves and then walked out with it under your arm and you dare to say that you did not do it on purpose how dare you insult my intelligence like that how dare you buy one of those filthy magazines what ever made you do it i mean buying a copy of the personal investor and a copy of the economist it is truly disgusting and sick and perverted and unlawful and warped and offensive and vulgar i just do not know what could drive you to commit such a crime i really do not so i am not talking to you so go away

day thirty five

i have decided to go into politics because it looks like a cruisy job you only work three days a week charge everything up to the tax payers get a whole lot of perks when the rest of the country gets none give yourself twenty per cent pay increases each year when the rest of the country are not likely to get even two per cent have a massive holiday over christmas or more correctly over summer and best still fuck the country so badly that it will take successive governments to fix all your cock ups and of course they will at the same time be making their own cock ups but that is government for you i say never trust the word of a politician except mine of course because i always tell the truth as you can tell from reading this here book so vote for me vote anarchy because only true anarchy can save us the world did alright before politicians and the bourgeois and it can survive without them so next election vote for me dranew lapmer the saviour of politics and radio stations and other stuff vote anarchy for a better world because to borrow a phrase we can rule as badly as they can and the world would be all the better for it fuck the government ps i just discovered that my poetic skills can make themselves known even when i am not looking example my election campaign slogan vote for me vote anarchy rhymes you know each line is three syllables i will explain syllables later dilbert you dickhead and me and anarchy rhyme oh you know rhyme do you dilbert well i will not explain it later dickhead

day thirty four

look you stupid git we are almost half way through the twenty first bloody page of this bloody book so why do you not sort your bloody life out or just bloody go away

day thirty three

this is a momentous occasion in my life and you should all feel proud to be able to share in it you see what is so momentous about this occasion is that very shortly this book will be twenty one pages long that is twenty one pages as the computer has them ie twenty one computer pages long and what is so momentous about that you may well ask so i will tell you you see i have never ever before in my entire lifespan of some nineteen and a bit years written anything this long ie twenty one pages using my own imagination i have not even written anything ten pages long before but i decided to wait until now before celebrating although i have done long school assignments but they do not compare to this at all so this is a very momentous occasion because we are now on the twenty first page of this book and that is just so incredibly fantastically amazingly remarkably awesome and i am so proud ps please send all gifts of champagne etc to the address noted previously

day thirty two

i am writing a poem today and it is quite strange and should be in my book of poems and other assorted readings if the wankers will publish it but they are complaining that because this is not selling as well as they had hoped that they will have to consider publishing any more of my work very carefully and they would not budge an inch from that stance not even when i told them that i had not yet finished writing this book and because of that they could not have published it yet and it could therefore not be selling in the shops because it bloody well is not frigging finished and they just told me to bloody hurry up with it so that new copies could be in the shops by the weekend silly old prats and by the way i am also working on a song and i know what the title i would like to use is but i can not think of the word it is very long has lots of the letter i in it and is a noun and contains the word nihilistic or nihilism but i just can not find it in my dictionary so if you can help please send a letter to me at the following address dranew lapmer care of the only car equipped with a computer state highway one hopefully just south of otaki or west of bulls new zealand thank you ps you do not need to write thank you on the envelope because it is not part of my address thank you

day thirty one

well hey guess what good news you better hope the dumb bloody coppers pulled the wrong man it was not me that they wanted but some other geezer they just got mixed up when about mentioned my name when she was being interviewed about it and boy did they feel stupid and i of course being a sensitive new age guy consoled about because i did not know she had been raped until the police arrested me because we had not seen each other for a while so we left the court together and went and had some lunch and everything was just dandy mike was right you know we were out of there in less than half an hour and he kept his unblemished record and me and about spent the night together while the stupid incompetent moronic inept police tried to find the guy who really did it

day thirty

warning: the following contains material in very poor taste, it may even offend, though it appears to redeem itself tomorrow (however dubiously)

some time ago i told you that i fucked about during the day well the stupid bitch is taking me to court claiming that I actually raped her on at least one occasion which i suppose is what i may have down if you take into consideration the definition that lawyers have provided for us regarding rape which i suppose says something like the use of force and copulation or fornication or whatever word you may like to use as a term to define the actual sexual act with a partner who is unwilling to have sex with you and i suppose that legally i did rape about but she seemed to enjoy it at the time i thought but obviously she did not or otherwise this thing would not have come up but anyway my case is coming up in court tomorrow and i asked the counsel for defence ie my lawyer how long it would take and he seemed to think that it was a pretty cut and dry case and we should be out after a half hour or so the only problem is that it is cut and dry for the prosecution which means my ass in the slammer and a nice attractive intelligent kid like me could not last five minutes in jail without at least one proposition for a bed partner so i may have to change my plea to not guilty your honour so that the case will drag and my counsel can try and sort out a way of getting me off and together we are working on it we have come up with one or two ideas which may work but i am not allowed to tell you for fear of jeopardising or prejudicing the outcome of the trial but one has to do with the fact that about was only fifteen making her a minor and therefore not legally allowed to have sex no that can not be right that would just digging my own grave mr bungay hey mike little problem this about being a minor thing it will not work dickhead do you want to see me in jail or something bastard do you want to ruin your perfect record think about it mike just think about it anyway as i was saying i think i should get off this quite easily unless they can prove that we really did have sex and that we really actually know each other because i have an idea which might just work but keep it to yourself okay it involves me denying any knowledge of about and therefore hopefully getting off scot free but we will just have to see how things evolve in the case i hope the police do not have much evidence otherwise i could be really screwed quite literally and that would not be very nice but mike is supposed to be a good lawyer if that is possible and we should just be walking out tomorrow and not walking out into a police van is that not right mikey baby