Neurosis
Everything is poo.
My thesis supervisor thinks I'm a lazy and moronic git. I didn't see him last week. When we meet, I pretend to understand what he's talking about when he explains something to me but do a really bad job at it. Two weeks ago he asked me if I understood what multiplexing was and I was going to say 'no' but something in his voice suggested to me that he was on the verge of pouring derision on me if I told him that I didn't understand. So, I pretended that I understood. And I sucked at it.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: NO PENIS. Utterly penisless. Not much going on in the penis department. Yadayadyadyadaydaydayd.
I submitted my first batch of reviews for Scene on Sunday. After sending them in, I felt good. I reread them that night and i'd inexplicably left out ENTIRE key words in some of the sentences in the reviews. I'm so stupid - nobody makes mistakes that dumb. For example I made a dumb analogy where I was meant to say 'it serves its purpose just like poor quality, but high caffeine, coffee does'. But there was a problem - I left one of the words out of the sentence. And this is after proof reading and editing 3 times over. And guess what word I left out?
'COFFEE.'
WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? I go to all these lengths to establish this analogy between the CD and coffee and I FORGET TO PUT THE WORD COFFEE IN IT?!
I'll say it again: NO PENIS.
posted by Biggles @ 1:49 pm
21 Comments:
Jack believes the russian is too hard on the russian.
The russians supervisor is clearly a knob, at the end of semester, Jack suggests paying the supervisor off, or sucking the supervisors penis, which incidentely is far smaller than the russian's clunker.
Jacks says scene is like the russians supervisor... small penis. But then again, Jacks favourite music is Johnny Cash. Jacks putting it nicely for the russian, your screwed. Especially since the russian missed an interesting word like coffee...
Jack realises that none of the above makes sense. bugger.
I agree with Jack!
You are being way too hard on yourself Koskov!
Although, next time when your supervisor is explaining something to you, I suggest you continually ask him to explain further - this of course would go far beyond the point of simplistic explanations and when your supervisor starts getting frustrated at being unable to further simplify his point. You should throw your hands up and respond in an aggravated tone that you get it and storm out!
This sort of response should be executed with a huge amount of offensive hand gestures, a lot of door slamming and possibly screaming 'pigfucker' as a parting remark!
ps. I like Jacks comments!
Jack...I think im in love with you!
Again, if people with no talent wish to steal my material, please source me as the original author. So when you say 'pigfucker', a term I coined, say "pigfucker, Dr Gonzo, personal communication, 2005."
Get some talent you fat, red headed, clown.
A thousand apologies to you Dr. Gonzo. i will reference your material in future comments. I have a high respect for you and your clinic. I hope you will continue to allow me to refer my patients to you. They all seem to love you so much.
Regards. (Dr Gonzo, personal communication, 2005.)
what makes you think im a red head? fat...yes. red head...no.
Thank you for your reference.
I thought you were a fat red headed ape who lives with me. Come to the clinic and I'll give you some ether and a can of mace.
Regards.
I live with a man who prides himself on making false accusations - (yes, FALSE ACCUSATIONS!!!!!) - regarding the source of material. This comment abides with it a salient irony in that this shameful, sad little man garners about 98.7% of his intellectual & comic device from (at any point in time) THREE sources _OTHER THAN HIMSELF_.
Yes. Isn't that shameful?
Sally Citizen: "Oh, HE'S funny! This party would be nowhere NEAR as exhilarating and sexually electric if he weren't here, with his witty & highly creative anecdotes and engaging dialogue!!"
Think again Sally. Think again...
Slithering silently beneath the surface of his compulsively shorn scalp, there lay a dreadful thieving little scoundrel... With such hide to accuse others of the very act that keeps his life, his love, and his identity intact.
Fuck you, you filthy filthy man. Having said that I like you a lot and secretly wish you were my partner.
The Sarajevo Seven.
The bizzare coterie of characters commenting on this blog is highly confusing. I feel that perhaps they are all creations of Dr Gonzo and his esteemed institute.
I also think that Sheila B is a man.
Ich bin der Marionette Meister. Bald alle sind Sie Grube.
Well don't fat red headed men gain a personality online.
The sarajevo seven, now that's funny.
Let's talk about two issues in your dumb, illiterate, little blog.
Sally Citizen: talking about a party. Wow. The fat ape who famously is never ever invited to parties, who, if he ever goes to a party, charms and delights the audience with such memorable lines as, "How's uni going?", and the classic, "Anne's gone to work". And, because he can think of nothing to say, claims "I have a headache". Now that's funny.
Point two: Three sources for the DR. Well that's more than one. You know the one. The halarious 'The Office', which has been your only source of material for two years now. Talk about David Brent again, and those impressions of David Brent. And recounting what Garreth said in episode two. Then laughing in your fake, hysterical laugh, hoping your little boyfriend laughs in the same, fake, hysterical way. What a sense of homour. The irony is, you say you hate David Brent, but your brand of comedy is exactly the same as David and Finchy. It's not funny, noone else is laughing, stop the hysterical laughing.
You are the fraud. You are the joke. You are a liar and a fake. Fuck you.
Regards,
Ahhhh Dr Gonzo, mon bon ami. I see the political/religious intimations embedded within my title elude your erratic and infantile mind. Comedy... pfft.
I do run classes on anger management, speech therapy, and basic literacy (free of charge on friday nights) if you would be humble enough to accept my tutoring. Yes, that's free of charge, my stingy comrade. I KNOW you measure how much sugar has been taken from your sugar container. I've seen you do it - I'VE SEEN YOU.
As for The Office. Fine British comedy - but not for people like you. No, the genius and subtlety soar at a level you, I can assure, will never fly at. Regarding classic comedy, the likes of which your flabby intellect consistently misunderstands, my advice is - do not be so quick to judge.
Watch your spelling and punctuation too - "halarious" is not a word.
Cock! (Tim Canterbury [Martin Freeman], BBC's 'The Office').
On translating the above message from marcus demaggio I obtained "I am of the puppet a master. Soon all are you pit."
That doesn't sound good.
Ahh the brilliance, the mind.
Yes, the religious/political intimations embedded in your title did allude me. It was equally as clever as your erudite song, "I'm a Jew". That was an intellectual treat. I remember hearing the fake, hysterical laughter from upstairs, by two men urinating over the deck on a Friday night thinking, "I wish I shared their intellect".
You also stole the term "puppet master" from me. You are a very sad man. Please source me when you use my material. I sourced you last week when I said "I think I'll just sit in my room tonight, laughing hysterically with my boyfriend, making racist songs and urinating over the deck" (Sarajevo Seven, personal communication, 2005).
Regards,
I stole the term "puppet master" from you? I did? When did this occur? My dear Dr, there you go running false accusations again!
False accusations.
False.
Dr Gonzo.
The false accuser.
P.S. Still making BASIC errors in spelling are we? See you friday night.
You two need a mediator.
I'm a mediator.
Let's mediate.
Applying conversation analysis to your blogs suggests that SS: wants to have sex with DG, represses this desire and transplants it to his boyfriend, and has a fear of fat women. Whilst DG: has probelms showing affection in relationships, is short, balding, and ugly, wants to be invited to a party, and never does past the early house warming stage of the year, which annoys him, and has erection problems.
I'll mediate.
Jack thinks the russian's blog has become a place for people with split personalities to post.
Wait, Jack has split personalities, maybe thats why Jacks here.
Can the good doctor see another patient named Jack?
Dear Koskov and Jack,
I would like to confirm that the debate between me and SS was both really between two people, and was entirely a joke. I hope noone took this seriously.
Also, I have only gone under the name of Dr Gonzo, except for the obvious one. I don't know who the other posts are, do you?
Anyway, all my love to SS and peace out to my lovely blog friends.
I have received a number of supportive emails, many comparing me to Rove McManus/Peter Hellier. So thanks for keeping the dream alive.
I'm taking my secretary to Mt Cootha tomorrow, but will return to the clinic on Friday.
Regards
This so called mediator shits me.
If two grown men have the desire to bare their neurosis in public, then let them. If you can't do that on a blog then where can you?
Even beyond on that I object to the imposition of a so called mediation on principled grounds. At best its from an individual so conflict averse that they can't handle an online debate. This seems unlikely mind you.
At worst, and far more probably, its the product of the ultimate social misfit. Creating comedy by reacting, or by stealing other peoples material is pretty low. But attempting to do it by nothing more than summarising other arguments takes it too a new low.
I don't know what the mediators post was really trying to acheive. But whatever it may be, I suggest he/she goes away, reflects upon, and has a serious think about what the hell he/she is doing with his/her life.
I can see you, Jack.
Jack states that the previous post is mistaken, and that the entity known as Marcus DeMaggio can not actually see Jack.
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