Ok so for those of you who've been tearing your hair out and beating your breast, wondering what your beloved blogger Barry has been up to these past few days and weeks and fortnights and months since he last blogged, allow me to enlighten you with random snippets of thought from the hallowed noggin of yours truly which will no doubt leave your knees weak with excitement and make you cream your tightie whities with happiness.

For those of you who couldn't be bothered, shaddup and read anyway.

- The big news is, of course, my acceptance into St. John's College in Annapolis, MD. It's a thinking man's school; there are no majors, and everyone studies the same thing. At the center of the program are the "great books", classics written from the time of golden Athenian thought up to the works from last century. We'll study science from Newton's Principia Mathematica, slog through the philosophy of Plato and Aristotle, pore over the politics of Marx and Machiavelli, learn math from Descartes, and even play the compositions of Bach and Beethoven.

Fucking nerd school, but I love it. They have a friendly rivalry with the neighbouring US Naval Academy, so naturally comparisons are made between the two and Athens/Sparta. They also offered me like a gazillion bucks in financial aid, so that tied up the deal. I'll leave in Aug/Sept, which leaves me eight months to be gainfully employed and to make the most of my remaining time with the missus.

- Speaking of which, I'm not taking separation from the missus too well. She's only been gone for like a week, and already the withdrawal symptoms are out in full force. And don't get me started on the boredom. I never knew I was that dependent on her for...ahem, sensory and emotional gratification. I am beyond fucking bored. Half the time I'm having a most inappropriate and unfortunate relationship with my fist.

- Spider Solitaire is the shit. I've got a 45% winning percentage on the medium level and therefore I am king shit. If you're going to tell me bah that's nuffink i can win the difficult level with my eyes glued to my testicles then I will send my big black friend Nimalan over to your domicile to monster rape you.

- Will be flying to Langkawi with the missus for a romantic shagaway, I mean getaway, of course I meant getaway, a month from now on a transport budget of eighty bucks. No, I'm not sure I said that loud enough; WE ARE FLYING TO LANGKAWI WITH EIGHTY DOLLAR RETURN TICKETS. Airasia is the monster shit, I tell you. They're fucking geniuses, they're even offering 2 gajilliontrillionmamamiamillion free seats when they'll actually be raking in more cash. Oh my Barry you're such a genius how did you figure that out, you're asking while scratching your gonads. Simple, first they give out the free seats, limited number per flight only of course, then on your return flight the prices soar because the entire population of Asia who took the opportunity to fly out will eventually have to return. So more passengers on the return trip = jacked up ticket prices = more moolah. Fucking genius. Plus the fact that they sponsor the other love of my life, the greatest sports team on the planet, Manchester United (shaddup Scousers you need to win the Treble before you're allowed to clean our boots).

- I've got a bitchin' cough and fever that's the exact same one which had me coughing after every word and after every 5 seconds when I'm not speaking, exactly a year ago. I've also got a recurring mosquito-bump under my left nipple which comes and goes as it pleases, having been here-today-gone-tomorrow-ing for the past few years. While we're on the topic, I've also got a tiny bump on my right ass which for the life of me I can't figure out what it is. I think it used to be a pimple which didn't pop. There's a small Phua Chu Kang mole above my pubic region, and a birthmark on one of my shoulderblades, I forgot which. Come on, who looks at their backs anyway, unless you've got a really cool mirror hanging from the ceiling allowing you to watch yourself while you're, um, pleasing the lady.

- Anyway, Christmas is coming, so I'd like to share some miracle-testimonies about the powers of Jesus Our Lord And Savior And Who Also Happens To Wait On Tables At KFC, Son Of Carlos And Juanita. I heard these at a Christmas fellowship/gathering which I only attended because of the holy incarnation of Gorgeosity and Gorgeousness that is my girlfriend and the promise of free turkey.

"I was on my way to school, when my car broke down. I had a major exam that day, so I prayed to the Lord to help me make it on time. My dad then called an uncle who lives nearby, and he arrived in a short while and fetched me to school. I thank Jesus for helping me sit for my exam."

"I've always wanted a particular pair of shorts which I didn't have enough money to buy. And then on Christmas morning, I unwrapped my present and to my joy and bewilderment I discovered that it was the exact pair of shorts that I'd wanted! Now who would give a pair of shorts as a Christmas present? (Santa Claus, that's who, you idiot.) Come let's rejoice in his name for giving me those shorts!"

Again, I have nothing against the religion (well, not that much anyway), but some Christians are just polluting the gene pool. At least Buddhists know to shut up.

Here's another dumb Christian youth pastor who likes pinching tits.

- Anyway, get me one of these for Christmas and I'll love you forever.


1) The missus.




2) A snazzy notebook.



Don't be a shithead and get me this instead:


I'll hate your fucking guts you cheap shit.


3) A million bucks.


That's me you see at the front, dressed in dough.


4) Either the Donnie Darko Director's Cut DVD or the Crash DVD.




5) The aural rapage of Captain Beefhart - Trout Mask Replica




6) A pool table minus the skanky Brit ho (come on, who are you kidding? Only a Brit could look that fugly).




7) Umm, since it's Christmas, I'll go for World Peace.