...that's why in May 2002 it wasn't such a big deal to leave it all behind and up sticks to France. North west France. Draw a triangle between Rennes, Nantes, and Angers. The "Bretagne Technopôle". We're in there. More on that later.
Anyway, I digress. Assuming we had more normal neighbours, they'd say he was a quiet person,
kept to himself. Then again, if I held regular parties and invited all the neighbours for a
piss-up, they would still say that.
It isn't socially acceptable to be associated with a murderer, a politician, or Lord Archer. Can you imagine all the Hooray-Henry's stumbling over their words enough to manage an exclamation of "Good lord!" upon looking at the bodies. Then, spotting a glimmer in the ground, "Th-that wouldn't be a R-rolex would it, d-dear chap?"
But fear not. Even if somehow I could persuade my conscience to knock off a few worthless
cretins, I'm kinda lazy really. You gotta bury people about a metre and a half down. If we then
assume that each person is a metre and a half tall and half a metre wide (you can always break
their legs if they won't fit - they won't mind, they're dead), then we are talking one and a
quarter cubic metres of dirt to shift. I'd guess about eight or so wheelbarrels full. Now
multiply that by twenty. And consider the remains of the back garden (ie, the bit without the
dumb patio) is considerably less than enough for twenty bodies. All that digging. Still, I'm one for taking the easy way out. I wonder if the neighbours could drag themselves to notice a bloody great JCB parked in the garden? Actually, I hope so. In order to get to my little burial patch, I'd need to trash half a dozen gardens.
My god. All that paperwork on the insurance claims. Not to mention being arrested for hotwiring a JCB from a local building site.
Really, it ain't worth it.
So, I'm quiet. Keep to myself. Not the murdering type. Okay. Good start.
The pictures are myself, on the left (or top); and an actress called Alyson Hannigan on the right (or bottom). She is not my sister. Neither, sadly, is she my girlfriend. Oh well.
Alyson Hannigan is the computer geek (latterly, witch and/or lesbian, depending on your interest) in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She has also appeared in American Pie; and she was the daughter of the scientist in My Stepmother Is An Alien, which was the first time I saw her and started drooling. If I'd have known...
Unfortunately, my chances of meeting her are practically none. And if I ever did, I'd probably
go and say something idiotic anyway...
That said, she did marry 'Wesley' from the series, so either he's a good actor or she likes dweeby Brits. I would prefer to think the latter as it might have had me in there with a tiny little chance.
PS: If you are interested in finding out more on Alyson and the things she's been in (try to overlook Date Movie!), try http://uk.imdb.com/, or alternatively look at my digitised pictures.
My vital statistics are:
Actually, Rick doesn't mind being called a geek. The following description about sums it up:
Rick also has a lame social life - on the internet. Need we say more?
Before you think Rick is the ultimate geek (he does hate PHBs and MicroSoft), he does have some
redeeming points. Namely he enjoys gazing at stars (the glowing things in the night sky, not
just Samantha Mathis and Alyson...), looking after the cockatiel, cooking, reading, writing,
slagging off politicians (mmm, easy target, really) and some other stuff.
Rick, surprisingly, is a caring person. In fact, his previous career (in the UK) was as an agency carer working at a retirement home. Not quite what most people expected him to do!
Some say what Rick needs is a good woman. Others suggest a strong drink might work better.
Rick himself prefers "Seriously Strong Cheddar" or a damn good tikka.
Some people think of me, "What's his problem?".
Well, what's your problem?
Like TV violence critics that moan their children watch bad things seemingly oblivious to the magic wand widget, you too have a similar mechanism. If you don't like me, turn around and talk to somebody else. The Earth is reaching crisis point with its population, so surely there is somebody else for you to talk to.
I am myself and that's all there is too it. If you like me, cool. If you don't, I'd be a little upset but it's no personal tragedy. I can't please everybody and I'm not going to kill myself trying.
Don't take me too seriously.
One thing I know is that suicides, drug overdoses, jumping out of office windows and other such niceties are committed by people that are either so high they think they are flying, or take life so seriously they wouldn't know fun if it came and kicked them in the balls.
Think about it, you need to do something, you might need your job and you may need a payrise. But is it worth getting into an early grave over?
So, chill, and lighten the f*** up............