cwmbrancity

Springwatch Ingredients: empty home, lube, 15-30mg of Diazepam, 350mg of decarbed botanicals eaten 90mins previously, 1 brightly covered puffa jacket, then the fun begins. Michaela "The Hitman & Her" Strachan crying over hatchlings getting devoured by polecats, pine-martins & other ninja cunts. As much as i love birds, leaving dead chick corpses & faecal sacks all round the gaff is asking for it. Does the hawk spare the mouse? Some top rate savage deaths & came real fkn hard a few times. However, Chris Packham (sp?) has to be the most English person i've ever experienced, massive turn off, the voice intonation, sitting cross-legged, weird clothes, sprouting shit about nothing that will stop all these species & habitats getting annilatered in the next 100yrs. Over to you Chris.

grim news that Dr John the night tripper's gone, tremendous grooves

The decline of the old London accent. Yeah it's around, but its days seem numbered.

kill your cat, think of the birds maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan

Did it need it & have you ever had Sunday dinner with a large, loud, bickering family from New Jersey? The conversational baiting & rowing are their own soundtrack. If yer lucky, it all flows with Sinatra, Limoncello, a game of Spades after grub & everyone still talking to each other Monday morning.

Did this over christmas/nye during cold rains & snow & it never ever relents. Yeah the therapist/client relationship would've ended almost immediately irl, but for characters, jokes, grim outcomes & murders, more jokes, each season's nemesis (R Aprile, Big Pussy, Ralphie, Feech La Manna, the entire NY crews/cast *shout out to the Shah of Iran), family dynamics, Paulie Walnuts, Sil, Uncle Joon, Bobby Bacala, Vito's arc, that poor cunt in the Bing who keeps getting battered, the conveyor belt of goomahs, Carmela's moral turpitude/acquiescing, the dream sequences & an ending to shame everything else in television since. There were so many nuggets of gold, it's futile trying to list em al, but god dayum, class, sheer class.

Seidl rrrrrocks. Have you seen Hundstage/Dog Days (2001)? Similar themes. I loved Import/Export + Models too, the former was a surreal mix of degradation & hope, but it's the overall weirdness of Hundstage that stuck with me long after finishing.

Picture the scene. It's 105 degrees & humid as a hell-swamp in *insert state/location here*, but Chuck Koncheskywilsonskopf is feelin' a bit peckish. And peckish is for "Euro fags & losers". His 0.2 miles to the gallon people carrier bs-hybridtank Lincoln chugs emissions along a hectic interstate, as a ferociously angry sun beats down on our commuting pilgrims. "Traffic n weather on the 8's, 28-past & 28-to the hour" gushes over WKZMTZTITFM-909 radio, "it's heavy on all routes folks". Chuck seethes. Even though driving alone, Chuck pulls across lanes & detours into the abandoned HOV corridor. "Fines are for pussies" he hisses, noting the absence of state police, "doing sweet shit while burning up ma hard earned tax dollars". Fuck the man, eh Chuck. A long-haired hippy type "drivin' 1 those new fangledtangled 'lectric get ups, covered in communist, peace-corps lovin', chlamydia-transporting, rock'n'roll band bumper stickers & 'probly import-ted from China at that too" draws parallel to the Lincoln, a shared ride car-pool vehicle. "Hey hippy" Chuck screams out of the window, "yeah you, get a real hair-cut" pointing with a white-knuckled middle digit directly upward at a precision manicured buzz-cut flat-top, never left uncut for any longer than 2 weeks. Approximately half a mile off, Chuck spies a lurid IHOP billboard advertising a rest-stop outlet at the next junction. "Hell yeeeeaaaaah" jeers Chuck punching the horn, "i'mma gonna get my munch the FUUCCKK on". In the fierce, draining sun, his drool dries quickly over chin & jowl stubble. Flakes fall, speckling a heavily soiled car-seat smeared with multiple layers of rancid, semi-calcified rib sauce & Five Guys grease remnants. Parking his trusty steed, meta-American shambles slowly to the eaterie entrance. Beads of sweat gather on a furrowed, furnace-red brow, armpits arced with perspiration. Polyester trousers chaff rarely exercised legs. He loosens his tie & shirt top button to lighten the relentless, swarming temperature reflecting back off the tarmac car-park. He sparks a Marlboro & exhales the remaining toxins. The heat & humidity have left his balls hot, sweaty, itchy & stinking, "Merkin balls, son, balls a lame foreign savage like you would be privileged to even clean". Inside the fresh, air-conditioned, bastion of diseased capitalism, Chuck cranes his thick, fat-rippled, neck up to the menu. Piggy, aviator sun-glassed eyes scan the list that Chuck knows perfectly by memory, "minus all that chicken crap other creeds eat". But today is different. Today is like no other. From behind the masked, shrouded veneer of shaded rage, Chuck begins to attempt to wrap his mind around, around something, something that can not be. Today there is a NEW menu offering, a paradox, unheard of in modern civilisation: Ladies & gentlemen, please curtsey & bow for the B U R G E R P A N C A K E ! "What in the name of Stonewall Jackson's horse is THAT?" farts Chuck's brain to the acned youth behind the counter. His thoughts whirl deliriously drunk on the thought of soon to be troughed calories. "Those colo(u)rs, those beautiful, beautiful patties, with pancake. With. Pancake, Could they add ranch? Dayum, there's a spare sachet in the dash. And syrup? Together? Lord have mercy there's bacon. Jesus, praise Him. Look at it. Men on death row would fight to the death just to smell such a miracle. The rapture. The Second Coming. Finally. Must. Have. Burgerpancake".

just grip an axe & go full GOT, but get a witch to turn the blade to flame b4-hand quick, efficient, controlled, masculine + FIYAH, then stuff & eat the mouse remains like a Roman centurion shadows & dust etc

It's Britain, not just the heathen fkn English & their sacral Queeen bs. There's prob an Orange Lodge joke in there too, somewhere.

nowt like Mr Liles for living the fear https://andrewliles.bandcamp.com/track/is-there-anybody-there-original-mix

Pretty damn good overall, even if this version of Egyptian Basses has a shuffle/swing percussion thing going on that completely threw me. Wonder if some bits are anyway related to the abandoned post-LSD sessions from New Yawlins. Def worth your shekels. There are chunks heard b4, but plenty of new sounds to justify the price. Vinyl pack is delicious, robustly sleeved & crisp as fk mastering. There are more coherent Coil releases, but given the paucity of lost/unreleased material, this is more than sweet.

@rhm...such stuff as dreams are made on *wink people in the not too distant future will wonder wtf some of these texts were trying to achieve, but material culture, settlements, ritual sites & middens are the typical structured depositions of human remnants down through the millennia. The more ephemeral stuff never really features in the same way time is never fully explored conceptually beyond your standard “wheel” archetype. The Eurasian model was pioneered by Gimbutas, then ridiculed for decades b4 recent dna research revised the entire Bronze Age/Yamnaya influence across continental Europe wholesale...80+% displacement in some regions. If your dna tests ever throw up an r1b haplotype, part of your ancestry derives from the Ukraine. These are probably more of the same stylistically, but the following lecture series combine Bronze Age revisions, previous Neolithic myth lols & some of the archetypal themes in Anthony’s text: https://www.google.com/search?client=safari&channel=ipad_bm&biw=1024&bih=643&tbm=vid&ei=KkvxXMusJs6zsAeRjoPgBA&q=waddell+rhind+&oq=waddell+rhind+&gs_l=mobile-gws-serp.3...2217.5758.0.6758.11.11.0.0.0.0.143.953.9j2.11.0....0...1c.1.64.mobile-gws-serp..0.10.868...0j41j0i30k1j0i5i30k1j33i160k1.0.x6GANtmd3-o and if you can handle it, Bronze Age dna expansion and Western Europe:

the driest & possibly most boring text in contemporary archaeological bs, you can tell these people didn't walk to school https://www.academia.edu/4016588/Social_Theory_and_Archaeology

Waylaid & involuntarily inconvenienced in a classified sleep experiment program? Run audio.exe

every single teenage mutant ninja turtle should be roasted pikey style, over a shopping trolley bbq, get a real good sear on those cunts

creature/craythur in box identified

the Nazis won the uniforms style-war during WWII

Corbyn v Boris = worst of both worlds ex-public school Marxist who voted leave vs an ex-public narcissist who voted leave but will plough on & play to the gallery to a no deal outcome wunderbar

just cos, it's a massive pain in the arse eating out, Thai food is a no go, curries you need a specials speech prepared, then when the peanuts actually kick in the adrenaline shot is simply the best rush of all time so i sell NHS prescribed epipens on dark net markets (pm for voucher coupons) also, i played international age-level sport in what's traditionally a (fkn) mainly English (all cunts) game being rapidly anti-English during club & international sports, the last lingering remnants of bigotry deemed acceptable this side of the border equally all of the hypocrisy above after living in Inglan (is a bitch) for over a decade

The Universe is a Haunted House is primo Coil imho. Live Five was better than expected, but Norman fucked up with The Art of Mirrors/Jarman tribute releases. Don't want to gripe but there were pieces missing from the vinyl & cd mail-out, then the only shop reply was "oh sorry yeah they're all like that" Prob best to phone the store n see where the recording source came from, ie: a direct soundboard, aux or a matrix combining both. Still, good to see things slowly creeping out the woodwork (edit & they're sold out lol)

Lib Dems got led astray by Clegg. What doesn't fit is how/why voters dropped them b4 the Tory hordes themselves. Unfortunately Clegg has appeared w/Facefuck immediately after sharing a cabinet with Gideon, Dave et al, so that will inevitably lead to further questioning. You side w/the devil & it never ends well. Fully agree LD's are one of the only sane(ish) options left, but they seem a protest vote in the immediate climate plus most of their more coherent top brass are either dead (Ashdown) or near death (Cable). Brexit has been a Tory prolapse many decades in the making, compounded by the weakest Labour leadership this human has yet to witness. We could get Doris from the local residential nursing home in her late 90's into the gaff & there'd be more vision, energy & class than this current collective bag of spunk.