Check out my Model page…

As the grenade bounced on to the centre of the dance floor I thought ‘this is gonna be fun,’ and not one of the bubble headed morons noticed.  Not one of the orange, alcohol fuelled slags or overly muscular coked up douchbags batted an eyelid.  I then was filled with a sense of deep joy to see the look on the face of a fat bloated fake tanned bitch as the grenade burst just behind her.  It was then that I opened fire.

I actually love the way the internet is filled with load of attention seeking model wannabies, this whole ‘look at me, look at me’ fad that is knocking around at the moment fills me with much mirth.

I really just like laughing at the deluded fuckwits, how it seems like the most important thing in the world to be seen by other people and be recognised as a beauty.

Well, in some cases fair play, they are actually working as models in the fashion world and have done several shoots where they were paid and done magazine work.  It’s the ones that think they are models because they have paid some lecherous old man to take their photo (and masturbate over the shots in his dark room) or they have helped out a mate that’s doing photography at some college.

And it’s mainly the alternative models that I have the problem with due to the amount of time they put in to making themselves up.  Take away their funky coloured hair and over the top make up, cover up the hours of tattoo work and what do you have?  A very plain looking girl that went unnoticed though most of her life.  Stick a bit of colour in her hair and a nose piercing and she’s the loudest tart in the bar, life and soul, but a few years back and she was the girl down the road that the boys didn’t look twice at.

And now, it seems that every ‘alt’ model is a fucking pole dancer, you might as well go the whole hog girls and do porn, go for it, we have pretty much already seen what you had for breakfast and you do want the attention.  Let’s face it, most blokes top five fuck list would include at least one porn star.

And is this happening anywhere else in the country because these tarts are rife down my way?  You can’t move on the weekend for these little tramps with fake names in the local bars.  You have a chat with them in the pub next thing you know they have added you on Facebook then they bombard you with requests to add their model page under some stupid assumed name, then there are the competitions, ‘go click on the link and like my photo,’ WHY?  So you can make yourself feel better if you win?  So you can say ‘I’m prettier than you’ in some daft, childish form of female bragging rights?  No, I can’t get behind that, who the fuck wants to be with an attention seeking arsehole that is really comfortable about getting her lills out in front of complete strangers?  And after a while everyone just gets sick of seeing the lot of you.

I don’t want the requests, I don’t want the invites and I don’t want to look at your pictures from a recent shoot where you and another girl pretended to be lesbian vampires, just be lesbian vampires you fucking dick teasers.  And when you get approached by some really sick fuck that has been looking at your photos and liking the links and he want to leave your severely raped corpse gaffer taped to a tree out in the deep dark woods somewhere; don’t say that old Greg didn’t warn you.

There is a whole culture now of voyeuristic morons and I happen to be part of that machine unfortunately, because I do like to laugh at some of these ugly fuck heads trying just a little too hard to be pretty.  Who are they trying to impress?  Maybe they just didn’t get enough attention as kids, the shame.  Just goes to show doesn’t it the power of a cuddle, hug your child often and they won’t grow up to be twats.  But don’t hug them too much ore they might turn into serial killers.

PEACE… OR PIECES!

LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME….

turn your papers over… NOW!

If I could get away with living on cheese burgers for the rest of my life I would, morning, noon and night washed down with beer… but that would probably kill me off quite quick and I have stuff to do.

For some this is one of the most stressful times of the year, yes its exam time.

You’ll see on your news feed and in status updates and tweets how people are going through revision hell, but why are they?  Because they couldn’t be bothered to learn for the rest of the year now they have to cram in as much info as possible at the end and hope for the best.

Over the last couple of years I have cracked the secret to learning and today I am prepared to share my knowledge with you.  The secret is having a good memory.  That’s it, nothing more than just plain old paying attention and remembering what I have read or been told.

Now, if you find yourself stressing over a pile of books and papers that you should have already read and familiarised yourself with several months ago then you deserve the bags you’re going to get under your eyes, and in most cases shouldn’t even be in the learning environment.

Now don’t get me wrong, there is absolutely nothing wrong with having a quick top up but from some of the FB statuses I have read over the last few days some of these people really have been wasting their time in academia.  Instead of concentrating on learning the subject they will be paying for the rest of their lives they have been having a good time, the shame.

It was a little different when I was at collage, we had to learn, there was no time for getting drunk and fooling around with women.  We did not care for experimentation with drugs and sleeping in late and missing lectures and classes, no, we took it all very seriously.

And if you believe that then you will believe anything.

We had a whale of a time, I don’t think I did any course work in my first year and I nearly got kicked out for my attendance a couple of times.

But I had a little advantage over some of my fellow students; I have a fucking excellent memory.  It’s spooky sometimes, I can watch a film once and pretty much remember the bastard word for word.  I don’t have the best intellect in the world, Jesus I can barely spell my own name; I just have a large capacity for learning and love to learn.  If I could get away with being a student for the rest of my life I would.  I would do every course and subject that would take my interest.  And that is the key, interest.

I know so many people that are doing courses that they have no real interest in just because they were encouraged to go to university by their folks but had no real idea of what they wanted to be.  I know this girl that was doing forensic accountancy and when asked why she chose that subject she replied ‘don’t know, so I can meet a guy with money.’  The mind boggles!

So now I hear you ask ‘so what are you studying and what for?’  Well that’s pretty simple and I think I’ve covered it, because I love learning and also to enhance my career in writing.  I want to be a writer and any help, advice or even course that I can get will only help me tune up my skills and enhance my talent.

But why do I want to be a writer?  Well other than the fact I love a good yarn (and that I’m full of shit,) it’s because of the solitude, pure and simple.  It’s one of the few careers that demand total seclusion from the outside world to be truly creative.  I have found a career that I’d like to think I’m okay at with the luxury of being able to do it wherever I like and away for society and all the shit that comes with it.  Minimal human contact with total creativity, perfect.

But to all those that I know that are going through the stress of exams and revision, I salute you.

Best of luck and I hope you all do well but remember the reason you are struggling now is because you didn’t take is seriously in the first place.  BA-BANG!

Sheep, your all fucking sheep!

Just watched 15 minutes of a soap opera… its 15 minutes I will never get back.   I now want to go on some kind of killing spree to cleanse the earth of all you fucks that would want to waste your life on watching this shit every day!

I love the way most people say ‘it really put things into perspective’ when somebody famous dies, especially if it’s on TV at some event.  Is that what it takes for most of you morons to actually contemplate your own morality is the death of some singer you didn’t even like in the first place?

Take the Fabrice Muamba incident, he collapsed and died on a football pitch during an FA cup game between Tottenham and Bolton, luckily he was revived and is doing well.  But the internet lit up with people saying’ really puts things into perspective.’  Does it?  Luckily they guy had a million pounds worth of equipment around him with highly trained staff on hand to help so how does it put things into perspective?  Chances are when something like this happens to you, you’ll be on your own without a medical team to help you out.

Please explain it to me because I think I’m being a little thick here.

It takes somebody else dying for you to figure out that you should embrace each day as a gift and really get out there and make the most of your life?  Fuck me sideways; you really are an amoeba aren’t you!

And just what do you mean by perspective, explain yourself dullard, what exactly do you mean?  The mental struggle between life and death, the fragility of mankind’s morality, the quest for existentialist enlightenment, what?  Explain yourself for fuck sake.

I get it, you don’t know how to handle the news that somebody has died or you have witnessed so profound life changing event and don’t know how to proses this new emotional information so all you can think of saying is ‘it really puts things into perspective.’  What you mean to say is ‘I’m feeling something I have never felt before and it’s doing my head in and I can’t comprehend the fact that at some point in my life that guy that just died is going to be me.’

How many of you fuckers were really Amy Winehouse fans anyhow?  And that bandwagon shipped out pretty fucking quickly didn’t it.  I guess that she really didn’t make that much of an impact that you lot first thought.

And the noise that was created by the media when she died, Jesus!  But looking at her career she really didn’t do that much for the British music industry.  She recorded two albums, one being rubbish and the other pretty much written by Mark Ronson and was so wasted she couldn’t record a third, was booed off stage at most of the shows she ever played and was filmed doing crack by a reporter, and she was the sweetheart of British music.

Bollocks, she wasn’t even a breakthrough artist, her early stuff was shit urban style and the stuff that got her famous was some throwback, retro northern soul.  She didn’t have her own sound she was just marketed right, to stupid fuck that think she was the best thing since sliced bread.

She had the world at her feet, could have been and done anything with the time she had on this earth.  She could have been a real figure for British music, a woman of power and influence but she threw it all away for the needle and the hole in the pipe.

Just the same as Whitney Houston, everyone was shocked when she died, I wasn’t, that’s what junkies fucking do.  They do too many drugs one night and they die fact of life.  For fuck sake that’s what people do in general anyway, you live, you do stuff you die.  People were in the paper saying that Winehouse’s death was a complete surprise, really?  Did you see her last show in Germany or wherever?  She had no idea where she was.

And she was treated like a martyr, a true heroine for our age, a half talented junkie fuck up that by the end could barely walk or speak and that shows how fucking stupid people are when the think in the form of the masses.  The mass collectively is a moron, slightly like cattle but munching on food served to you in buckets rather than grass you fucking animals.

Really put things into perspective don’t it!

shit… zombies!

As promised, to celebrate zombie awareness month here is a little snippet from the zombie novel I’m working on.  it is part of one of the chapter written in the first person and to be honest I probably won’t use it in the finished book, but enjoy none the less.

Let me know what ya’ll think.

 

I could hear the thing thudding around in the store front as I hid in the back room, franticly trying to barricade the door; it was only a matter of time before more came.

I had found a crowbar in with a load of old tools in back of the delivery van along with a hammer and some old scaffold poles out in the back yard of the shop.  It was these that I was baring the door up with.  I could hear it shuffling around and moaning then I heard the sliding doors open and the entrance bell sound, another had joined it in the deserted electrical store.

I was satisfied that my makeshift barrier would hold for now I checked out my hideaway.  It was a small room with a fridge and a sink.  There was a battery powered radio on the bared windowsill and a sofa against the wall, there was also microwave and kettle on a worktop next to the sink.  This must have been the break room.  A door leads to a small toilet and there was also a door that leads out into the goods out yard; this was surrounded by a security fence and a high gate at the end of the concrete drive.  All in all, quite secure.

I would have to find the keys to the van in the yard and that would mean having to go into the warehouse part of the building, a dark cramped room filled with stock and high shelves.  Not much room to manoeuvre in there, not much room for any mistakes and it was the one part of the building I had yet to explore and make safe.

I entered the warehouse with caution, not wanting to make too much noise I had removed my shoes.  I clutched the crowbar close to my chest and slid across the wall facing into the gloom of the cluttered space.

I could sense that I was not alone in the large storage hall as I made my way to the back where the dispatch office was.  There was a light on in there and I figured that that is where the keys to the van would be.

I was startled by something heavy falling from a shelf and smashing on the ground out in the warehouse, now I knew I wasn’t alone.

The office was fairly well organised and the keys were hanging on a hook next to a page 3 calendar, I grabbed them and as I was leaving I noticed another fridge in the corner so I had a look inside.  There was a real treasure trove of microwave burgers and hotpots, a real find considering the fridge in the break room only had soft cheese and off milk in it.

Another smash out in the warehouse and the unmistakeable moan of one of those things and I knew what I would have to do.  If I was going to make this place as safe as I could for now I would have to kill the thing.

I could see the thing moving around between the racking bumping into stuff and knocking over the stock from the shelving.  Its silhouette hunched over, arms swinging wildly like an ape as it lumbered ever closer to where I was hiding, I was crouched behind some cardboard boxes waiting for my time to strike.  It must have had my sent as it was heading towards me now with real purpose, less like a marauding beast but more controlled now.

Whether or not it could smell me I could certainly smell it.  I remember finding a dead Rottweiler on some waste ground when I was a child, its skin withered and paper like, its body riddled with maggots and this thing had that same dry, stale sent of death to it.  The summer heat amplifying the stench and the warehouse was filled with it.

I picked my moment well, just as the thing lurched over the boxes I was hiding behind I sprung out, swinging my crowbar at the things head.  It struck with devilish accuracy and shocking power.  The hook of the bar smashed into the side of the things skull shattering it instantly and its rotten brain sprayed out and up the wall.  It dropped to the floor instantly, and I had to put my foot on its shoulder to lever the bar from its head.

I found an old cloth and wiped the rot from the bar but the smell of the ooze was intense and I gagged for a moment.  I took the thing by the feet and dragged it out into the open of the yard and pulled it over to a dark corner and covered it with a tarpaulin that was in the van.

I now had some time to secure the rest of the warehouse and set up camp in the backroom of the dispatch office thinking that this would be the safest place.  The van had started first time and had a fair quantity of diesel in it so I pulled it up facing the large security gate on the off chance that I would have to leave in a hurry.

 

‘NEXT!’

Oh dear god, I think I just looked at his balls!

 

I am watching the huge acting talents of those involved with the film ‘HELLGATE’ and when I say top notch I mean it, and with great big fucking bells on!

I don’t want to use the word wooden but these are really nothing more than a bunch of walking, and I use the word talking liberally, headshots!  I am wondering to myself that when the pricks that cast this unholy piece of trash that they actually looked up from their porn magazine long enough to catch some of the actor’s auditions.  But as I watch on I know that this isn’t the case.

It dawns on me that also, in the film the guys with the overly white teeth and fiberglass hairdos with matching woolly jumpers would rather go on a zombie adventure than just get out of there and have awkward sex with the unattractive girls of the movie.  They would rather get bitten by flesh-eating ghouls that get a blowy from one of the sarcasm sisters.  There is a sex scene in there but dear lord I wouldn’t want to have been part of it, not even in the capacity of the lighting guy, yuck.  (I’m willing to bet that the smell was something fierce and there was a shit tonne of hair involved, like an explosion in an afro wig factory!)

But then it hits me, ‘fuck sake this is considered a classic in the genre, I could do better than this!’  So I have decided to make one of the worst movies I can possibly make with a budget of next to fuck all and a cast of whatever mong film school rejects I can get my grubby mitts on.

I then start to think back to my film school days and how much I loathed casting and having to run auditions for a shitty student short film that nobody was going to fucking see and how into it these drama students were, and I mean really into it.  These guys would emote all over the shop; we are talking serious roll shit here.  We would give them a snippet of the script for that character and just watch them go.  There were tears where there shouldn’t have been, expressive dance moves left right and centre, imaginary people in the room, kung-Fu moves that would put Chuck Norris to shame, we got everything!

Every now and then there would be someone that would actually be able to act and we would think why are they trying out for our shitty five minuet thing, they can actually do this shit.  Then you remember that they are drama students and they have a need to be in the limelight for as long as they can and there is nothing worse than an actor that hasn’t had a job for a while.  They will do almost anything to get on the TV or stage, trust me, I mean ANYTHING!

My mate who was with me through all of this and a bloody good camera man (that I won’t name) took advantage of this and got some of our ‘stars’ to do some awful shit, on and off the screen if you know what I mean.  I remember on girl he said would be in a short he had on, filmed stuff with her and other actors just so he could get a blowjob.  He never used the footage, I think he works at ITN now?  The moral standards in the film bizz are very low as you can imagine with so much ‘talent’ coming through and not enough parts to go around you just have to go that extra mile to really ‘nail’ that part, Ha-Ha! (I’m using these ‘’ a lot in this rant!)

I have bumped into a few of the old faces from collage along the way, some have made it in the industry mainly on a techy level but it’s always fun to bump into some of your actors from yesteryear.  Sometimes they will be serving you hot beverages in some generic coffee house or passing you food out to your car in a paper bag from a service window or even dressed as a chicken at some shite roller-coaster park during the summer holidays.  Three years of acting school and you’re an undead monk at the London bridge fright experience, how nice for you, all that tuition and daddy’s money really paying off then.

Here’s the secret to making a career in the movie industry, don’t be an actor!  Do everything other than act, be a writer, a set dresser, work in special FX or even just a runner because let’s face it, they are the ones that really make the magic happen right… and you won’t have to suck anyone’s dick to get a job!

So yeah, I’m going to make a movie at some point and try to get it out there, if anyone wants to lend a hand get in touch and try and get some funding for the bastard, don’t see why not, it worked for Romero!

maggot food!

So I was having a pint the other day with a mate and we got to talking about the zombie apocalypse and he reckons it would probably be a small outbreak that will bring down society rather than a catastrophic event leading to the zombie uprising as it were.

I am inclined to agree with him here and think that the undead will take over the entire globe with a localised outbreak like what we have seen with the recent swine and avian flu out breaks that started in the east and South America.

But I don’t think that it will be some natural epidemic like swine flu but more a manmade, weaponised virus dropped into some out of the way third world mountain village.

I found the whole swine flu thing rather amusing at the time, just the way it was the subject of most conversations at work or down the pub.  I remember talking to this middle aged woman I used to work with and she was taking it far too seriously like the end of the world was coming and told me she had rushed her grandson to the hospital because he had had a cold and ‘you can never be too careful.’  Well you can, that was such a stupid knee jerk reaction to a sniffle, what a moron and what a total waste of time for the doctors and nurses at the hospital.

I also found that it was a little suspicious that the specially designed medicine or cure if you like was readily available within a day or two of the first recorded outbreaks in Mexico and for a slightly steep fee.  It got a bit silly when they started to report on limited supplies and people where queuing for a prescription like their lives depended upon it.

It turns out that it was just an aggressive form of influenza and you needed little more than vitamin C, rest and plenty of fluids for about 48hrs to get over it, pretty much just like normal flu, in fact exactly like the common flu.  Funny that.

But it didn’t stop the press printing crap about people actually dying in the UK from this killer virus, but funny who they didn’t share the statistics about how many a year perish from common flu, I think you’ll find the stats are just about the same.

But anyhow, back to the zombie outbreak.

I was once asked what array of weapons would I chose if the undead did walk the earth and this got me to thinking.  I decided it would only be about four or five ‘tools’ so that I wouldn’t bog myself down with too much if I had to bug out in a hurry.

Firstly a decent rifle, something sturdy, lightweight and easy to maintain and it would have to have to have a single shot for long range shots and full auto for room clearance so I have gone for the ar-15.  Standard military issue for the yank army and really easy to field strip and clean, 10/10.

Then as a secondary weapon it would have to be a shotgun, magazine fed and robust so I’m going to have to go for the AA-12 full auto shotgun.  Again really light and the full auto element turns this into one serious bit of kit.  I’ll post a YouTube link at the bottom so you can check it out too.  Thumbs up on that one!

Then I would have a Browning Hi-power 9mm for the side arm.  Solid and powerful, just what you need in those tight spots when only a pistol will do.  I don’t want to burst any bubbles here but when it comes to pistols think reliability not bling, so I’m sorry all you gangsters out there but you can poke yo Glok’s up yo ass!

Then I’d have to carry two of the most useful tools you will need in this kind of bind, a sturdy machete and a crowbar.  Both tools in the conventional sense and very handy in all kinds of situations and both can be used as a bladed and a bludgeoning weapon respectively.  Fucking mint mate.

I would probably have a few grenades or sticks of dynamite in the mix too just for aesthetic punch and they are so much fun.  Scatter a pack of flesh eating ghouls and finish up with the AA-12, top notch!

Also don’t discount the silent but deadly qualities of the good old hunting crossbow, midrange and great when you don’t want to bring undue attention to yourself.

Obviously most of this shit you can’t get hold of in dear old Blighty so I’d probably go for the crossbow and sawn-off shotgun combo, typically British ha-ha!

So go grab yourself a copy of Max Brook’s ‘Zombie Survival Guide’ from Waterstones and get you’re your house in order,  and check out these links and get yourself prepared, coz you really never know!

http://youtu.be/WOoUVeyaY_

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Browning_Hi-Power

http://www.outdoorhobbies.co.uk/perfectline-183-c.asp

http://www.strikeforcesupplies.co.uk/index.php?method=cat&id=40

And remember, the head shot is the only true stopper!