Dial M for Site-Map #
<geek> Do you know if you press the m (or M) key on your keyboard on this page you will go to the site-map for me site, that’s quite cool init, here's how…
The JavaScript:
Then just put the onKeyPress line in the <body> tag:
The JavaScript:
<script language="JavaScript" type="text/javascript">as you can see different code is needed for the different browsers, aint it always the was ): the 106 and 74 from this line:
function keyfun(ev,loc1,loc2){
// firefox
var charCode=(navigator.appName=="Netscape")?ev.which:ev.keyCode
if(charCode==106||charCode==74){location.href=''+loc1+''}
else if(charCode==109||charCode==77){location.href=''+loc2+''};
// IE
if(window.event.keyCode==106||window.event.keyCode==74){location.href=''+loc1+''}
else if(window.event.keyCode==109||window.event.keyCode==77){location.href=''+loc2+''};
}
</script>
if(charCode==106||charCode==74){location.href=''+loc1+''}cover the lower-case and higher-case j, see. I found this page here, very useful for getting the KeyCodes.
Then just put the onKeyPress line in the <body> tag:
<body onkeypress="keyfun(event,'http://www.fuckcunttwat.com/','http://www.fuckcunttwat.com/j1/map/')">J takes ya to me front page and m to the site map. You could add as many as ye like by just adding more “else if”s to the JavaScript and the new location in the onKeyPress line. The JavaScript in this example is really designed to be external so pressing m on different pages takes you to different locations, handy ah. </geek>
don't look him in the eye #
i got very, very....... very, pissed last night. Woke up in the morning and on my SOGAO SG-908 was this:
wtf.mp3 [3.36MB]
Did i really say "Jesus sucks the cock of Allah", that's a wee bit naughty. Maybe it's time i got out more. i haven't spoken to another Human socially for about 5 years now, we getting into "angry loner" territory here. :|
on a side note i figured out "the Perfect Crime". Just kill all the humans on earth, then there's no one left to judge ya or put ya in prison, easy.
wtf.mp3 [3.36MB]
Did i really say "Jesus sucks the cock of Allah", that's a wee bit naughty. Maybe it's time i got out more. i haven't spoken to another Human socially for about 5 years now, we getting into "angry loner" territory here. :|
on a side note i figured out "the Perfect Crime". Just kill all the humans on earth, then there's no one left to judge ya or put ya in prison, easy.
the bath #
When I get a bath I:
First tune my amp to resonance 104.4 FM (it is the best radio station in the world after all, although don’t go into the forum, they all cunts in there). For some strange reason it always sounds louder in the bath than it does in me living room where the speakers are, every time I get in the bath i get straight out to turn the volume down (drying my hands and arms so the water don’t drip down into the plugs). I don’t have plants and I think I compensate by having big piles of wires, a lot of human try their best to hide the wires. I don’t mind um (the cyber-punk bit in me likes um, I fookin’ hate the word cyber, don’t mind the word punk tho, think it’s French for a rotting piece of drift-wood. HAHA!! Seems right).
Let the cold tap run for a bit, the water from the hot tap comes out at a million miles an hour and is really hot. Every flat I’ve had till this one has had a water-heater that I had to turn on 2 hours before got a bath to heat up the water, but not here. There’s a fuck off big boiler-room in the block across the way from The MARR (cool coz when you turn the hot tap off you don’t get that “water-heater filling up again sound” so you can actually hear your music). I turn on the hot tap, perched on the side of the bath I swing my hand down to mix the water. When warm I lower into the bath, crouched I “doggy paddle” the hot water around my body to the back of the bath, the cold water coming around the other side to mix again with hot. Ahhhh waters all nice now I sit and continue to slosh the water around until the bath is full. There is a lime stained mirror behind the taps, I look at my eyes. I first wash my hands then I cup then under the water and splash my face a few times drawing my hands down my face. I look at my eyes. I’m gonna dunk so I put some cold water in, I move forward to the taps, legs crossed, in the mirror I look like Buddha, now laying back I sink under the water until all that is showing above the surface in my face, like an island. The island of johnie’s face. I wash me arm, then my neck, rubbing and soothing (I wear a chain-saw as a necklace).
Love is just comfort, comfort is just the familiar, if you have been shit on your whole life, this is what is familiar… being shit on is comfortable. Just before I left Borth I went a bit mad and realised there was not a point in my life when I was comfortable, meaning being uncomfortable is the familiar, the comfort. So I started wearing the chain-saw, not really for the pain, just to be uncomfortable. I also have another one that I wear tight around me arm, this one not visible so people don’t judge on this one. People always think my chain-saw is a fucking motorcycle chain. The one I wear around my arm does hurt, it feels funny standing next to a “norm” at the bus-stop while having a chain-saw biting into the skin of my arm. I’m trying to make a scar-tissue tattoo but my immune system keeps trying to stop me. It makes me smile when I see the “men” with the barb-wire tattoos on their arms, why don’t they just wear barb-wire… cunts. I take chains off to bath.
I wash now the trunk that is my body, fatter now through the alcohol, not so fat that I can’t ride me bike. The water isn’t transparent anymore. Laying back now I hook my “Indian hook” on the back edge of the bath. Floating, it is the time for thinking, my mind turns to my neighbour…
I don’t like Nature (it has since my birth been trying to kill me)
Last deal with Nature
My neighbour died… in his bath. The flat behind me has the same layout as this one and he died in the bath exactly (hang on I’ll measure) 12 feet behind my bath. Rotted right there in the bath for a week. When you get buried in a grave after a while your body breaks down in something called “grave liquor”, you can imagine what that stuff is like. He must of poured down the plughole, there must be some of him down there now, maybe all those pipes are lined with the grease of old people.
I was awoken 1 night (3am) by banging, I never answer my door in London coz I don’t know anyone here so I have no reason (that’s why I came to this place). This was about a week before John (dead neighbour) was found and I now realise it was him banging on the bath with his feet in the hopes that I would come and… well save him… I just went back to sleep. THE HORROR, THE HORROR. What a deal he must have made with Nature. OK I can’t get out of this bath, I’m going to die here. How do you do that, what can you find in yourself to accept that. Do you scream, do you sink into the past. What is your brain doing, is it shutting down or are all your synapses firing at once, DON’T DIE, DON’T DIE, FIGHT, FIGHT, SCREAM. It didn’t work, I just went back to sleep.
OK my cunt neighbour isn’t going to hep me, this is the place Nature is going to eat my soul, all the hurt, the love and the pain, the flights and thoughts I have ever felt is going to rot in this bath, food only now to you, do I love you as you consume what I have been made of, but on that thought I am only made of you and you are going to end coz you cannot maintain the contraction and expansion of existents forever, so as you eat me, I eat you.
Buried alive, in a bath in a scummy council flat in an unforgiving hateful city (London may be the most hateful city on the Earth). John was one of those old slow moving people, I would see him setting out for the shop as a went out, I would ride around London for hours looking for stuff and when i got back John would just be arriving home. It took him hours to walk just bout 200 yards, very near the end of his life.
The first I knew about his death was a knock on my door (very persistent, knock… wait a bit, knock again… wait a bit… you get it, I answered). An old man dressed in pastel colours asking if I had seen John, no I aint, him went away. Later more knocking on me door, the Police asking now, when I answered the door I was laughing, for some sick / strange reason I laugh when around death, nervous thing I think or maybe just laughing at death (:
I sometimes ride my bike to the dome, it’s an ace ride, along the docks, all strange abandoned buildings and industrial silos. Well one time on the way back from the dome I found some heavy metal, I don’t know what it is but a found it in a sort of boat graveyard. Some kind of weird anchor thing, well the Police wanted to get into Johns flat and I suggested they use that.
It was an old Policeman and a young blond Policewoman. The old Policeman looked really, really distressed (I was a bit worried bout him) the Policewoman didn’t look like she was arsed (when I left later, walking past, I asked her if she was OK and she, all snotty like, answered “yeah”. Don’t know why I asked her that). They got in and found John in the bath…
I often wonder (usually when I’m in the bath) how John made his last deal with Nature. What do you do ??. Panic until the end, thrashing about until the strength is drawn out of you. Make your peace and just wait while Nature feeds on you. Do you see you body rot (you can rot while yet alive, see the homeless, ripped and shredded). Flames of death are touching you now, you can see (if your that way inclined) your god. A peace cover / falls over you. Dogs don’t bark, you just slip into decay, a plaything for bacteria now. Spreading over your body as you slip, the white of the bath contrasts against the green of you, naked you rot to drink. All that water your made of come out now… isn’t it all about the water. Your feet become green and fall away. Now is the time of the blue bottle / maggot, they lay eggs of maggots under you eyelids (do you feel this ?). It was hot when he died. All the crawling things in the area hear of ya flesh and it free meal. The flat is already rotting, been that way for years now. Just the white of the bath is clean.
I saw pastel man over the next few weeks as he “disposed” of John’s stuff, I found out he was one of John’s old friends and he lived in Brighton, I kept thinking if he was such a good friend why did he let John die this way, but what can you do with humans. Maybe John just wanted to leave the world of humans and die alone…. Hmmm… that sounds familiar… I died a long time ago and I’m just waiting for the flesh-bag to rot.
I suppose John is immortal in as long as this post lasts in your mind, but as you read this it becomes part of what you are and that passes down onto your kids so a little bit of John is poured into the human soup. Forever onto the earth more than me who brought this into your world.
I stand up, wash me dick and balls and that’s the bath over.
First tune my amp to resonance 104.4 FM (it is the best radio station in the world after all, although don’t go into the forum, they all cunts in there). For some strange reason it always sounds louder in the bath than it does in me living room where the speakers are, every time I get in the bath i get straight out to turn the volume down (drying my hands and arms so the water don’t drip down into the plugs). I don’t have plants and I think I compensate by having big piles of wires, a lot of human try their best to hide the wires. I don’t mind um (the cyber-punk bit in me likes um, I fookin’ hate the word cyber, don’t mind the word punk tho, think it’s French for a rotting piece of drift-wood. HAHA!! Seems right).
Let the cold tap run for a bit, the water from the hot tap comes out at a million miles an hour and is really hot. Every flat I’ve had till this one has had a water-heater that I had to turn on 2 hours before got a bath to heat up the water, but not here. There’s a fuck off big boiler-room in the block across the way from The MARR (cool coz when you turn the hot tap off you don’t get that “water-heater filling up again sound” so you can actually hear your music). I turn on the hot tap, perched on the side of the bath I swing my hand down to mix the water. When warm I lower into the bath, crouched I “doggy paddle” the hot water around my body to the back of the bath, the cold water coming around the other side to mix again with hot. Ahhhh waters all nice now I sit and continue to slosh the water around until the bath is full. There is a lime stained mirror behind the taps, I look at my eyes. I first wash my hands then I cup then under the water and splash my face a few times drawing my hands down my face. I look at my eyes. I’m gonna dunk so I put some cold water in, I move forward to the taps, legs crossed, in the mirror I look like Buddha, now laying back I sink under the water until all that is showing above the surface in my face, like an island. The island of johnie’s face. I wash me arm, then my neck, rubbing and soothing (I wear a chain-saw as a necklace).Love is just comfort, comfort is just the familiar, if you have been shit on your whole life, this is what is familiar… being shit on is comfortable. Just before I left Borth I went a bit mad and realised there was not a point in my life when I was comfortable, meaning being uncomfortable is the familiar, the comfort. So I started wearing the chain-saw, not really for the pain, just to be uncomfortable. I also have another one that I wear tight around me arm, this one not visible so people don’t judge on this one. People always think my chain-saw is a fucking motorcycle chain. The one I wear around my arm does hurt, it feels funny standing next to a “norm” at the bus-stop while having a chain-saw biting into the skin of my arm. I’m trying to make a scar-tissue tattoo but my immune system keeps trying to stop me. It makes me smile when I see the “men” with the barb-wire tattoos on their arms, why don’t they just wear barb-wire… cunts. I take chains off to bath.
I wash now the trunk that is my body, fatter now through the alcohol, not so fat that I can’t ride me bike. The water isn’t transparent anymore. Laying back now I hook my “Indian hook” on the back edge of the bath. Floating, it is the time for thinking, my mind turns to my neighbour…
I don’t like Nature (it has since my birth been trying to kill me)
Last deal with Nature
My neighbour died… in his bath. The flat behind me has the same layout as this one and he died in the bath exactly (hang on I’ll measure) 12 feet behind my bath. Rotted right there in the bath for a week. When you get buried in a grave after a while your body breaks down in something called “grave liquor”, you can imagine what that stuff is like. He must of poured down the plughole, there must be some of him down there now, maybe all those pipes are lined with the grease of old people.
I was awoken 1 night (3am) by banging, I never answer my door in London coz I don’t know anyone here so I have no reason (that’s why I came to this place). This was about a week before John (dead neighbour) was found and I now realise it was him banging on the bath with his feet in the hopes that I would come and… well save him… I just went back to sleep. THE HORROR, THE HORROR. What a deal he must have made with Nature. OK I can’t get out of this bath, I’m going to die here. How do you do that, what can you find in yourself to accept that. Do you scream, do you sink into the past. What is your brain doing, is it shutting down or are all your synapses firing at once, DON’T DIE, DON’T DIE, FIGHT, FIGHT, SCREAM. It didn’t work, I just went back to sleep.
OK my cunt neighbour isn’t going to hep me, this is the place Nature is going to eat my soul, all the hurt, the love and the pain, the flights and thoughts I have ever felt is going to rot in this bath, food only now to you, do I love you as you consume what I have been made of, but on that thought I am only made of you and you are going to end coz you cannot maintain the contraction and expansion of existents forever, so as you eat me, I eat you.
Buried alive, in a bath in a scummy council flat in an unforgiving hateful city (London may be the most hateful city on the Earth). John was one of those old slow moving people, I would see him setting out for the shop as a went out, I would ride around London for hours looking for stuff and when i got back John would just be arriving home. It took him hours to walk just bout 200 yards, very near the end of his life.
The first I knew about his death was a knock on my door (very persistent, knock… wait a bit, knock again… wait a bit… you get it, I answered). An old man dressed in pastel colours asking if I had seen John, no I aint, him went away. Later more knocking on me door, the Police asking now, when I answered the door I was laughing, for some sick / strange reason I laugh when around death, nervous thing I think or maybe just laughing at death (:
I sometimes ride my bike to the dome, it’s an ace ride, along the docks, all strange abandoned buildings and industrial silos. Well one time on the way back from the dome I found some heavy metal, I don’t know what it is but a found it in a sort of boat graveyard. Some kind of weird anchor thing, well the Police wanted to get into Johns flat and I suggested they use that.
It was an old Policeman and a young blond Policewoman. The old Policeman looked really, really distressed (I was a bit worried bout him) the Policewoman didn’t look like she was arsed (when I left later, walking past, I asked her if she was OK and she, all snotty like, answered “yeah”. Don’t know why I asked her that). They got in and found John in the bath…
I often wonder (usually when I’m in the bath) how John made his last deal with Nature. What do you do ??. Panic until the end, thrashing about until the strength is drawn out of you. Make your peace and just wait while Nature feeds on you. Do you see you body rot (you can rot while yet alive, see the homeless, ripped and shredded). Flames of death are touching you now, you can see (if your that way inclined) your god. A peace cover / falls over you. Dogs don’t bark, you just slip into decay, a plaything for bacteria now. Spreading over your body as you slip, the white of the bath contrasts against the green of you, naked you rot to drink. All that water your made of come out now… isn’t it all about the water. Your feet become green and fall away. Now is the time of the blue bottle / maggot, they lay eggs of maggots under you eyelids (do you feel this ?). It was hot when he died. All the crawling things in the area hear of ya flesh and it free meal. The flat is already rotting, been that way for years now. Just the white of the bath is clean.I saw pastel man over the next few weeks as he “disposed” of John’s stuff, I found out he was one of John’s old friends and he lived in Brighton, I kept thinking if he was such a good friend why did he let John die this way, but what can you do with humans. Maybe John just wanted to leave the world of humans and die alone…. Hmmm… that sounds familiar… I died a long time ago and I’m just waiting for the flesh-bag to rot.
I suppose John is immortal in as long as this post lasts in your mind, but as you read this it becomes part of what you are and that passes down onto your kids so a little bit of John is poured into the human soup. Forever onto the earth more than me who brought this into your world.
I stand up, wash me dick and balls and that’s the bath over.
ya what now ? #
Isn’t disaffected what you clean your bog with ?
The Cheese is gone #
Me mate Grezza's dog Cheesie is no more, daughter of Hiccup, sister of Grunge and Skinz (my doggie). Cheesie was a nervios little beautiful dog, one time she just went into the corner of the room and staired at us shaking, funny. Here be some pix:
HAHA!! that's Cheesie being all cute, look at those ears (:
Grezza and Cheesie, Chin up lad
this is one-eyed Grunge (Hurty's dog), Brother to Cheese
Skinz (my little doggy) Sister to Cheese, looks like shes been bad, HEHE!!
Skinz and yes that is me
Happy now with her mam Hiccup... ):
*Update* just heard that Merlin, brother to the Cheese died a few weeks ago. Merlin was the biggist of the Hiccup Clan (we all suspected that Hiccup went with many chaps as her clan was all different shapes and sizes, she was a good looking lass was Hiccup).
HAHA!! that's Cheesie being all cute, look at those ears (:
Grezza and Cheesie, Chin up lad
this is one-eyed Grunge (Hurty's dog), Brother to Cheese
Skinz (my little doggy) Sister to Cheese, looks like shes been bad, HEHE!!
Skinz and yes that is me
Happy now with her mam Hiccup... ):
*Update* just heard that Merlin, brother to the Cheese died a few weeks ago. Merlin was the biggist of the Hiccup Clan (we all suspected that Hiccup went with many chaps as her clan was all different shapes and sizes, she was a good looking lass was Hiccup).
Where Now ?? #
<geek> Yes it’s that time, it’s time for the “I’ve been messing with Google Maps” post. HAHA!! I think there’s a mathematical formula:
Tech human + Blog / time = post about Google Maps
So go see, lots of fun. I got the nice lay out by… CSS (in the <head> tags):
To get Google Maps on ya site you have to sign up for a key (it’s free) and you can only use that map key under (every dir under) a certain domain name, so I can only use my key under www.fuckcunttwat.com. It can be a bummer to program as you have to upload the changed html page to ya web-space before ye can see the effects (my PC aint www.fuckcunttwat.com see).
</geek>
Tech human + Blog / time = post about Google Maps
So go see, lots of fun. I got the nice lay out by… CSS (in the <head> tags):
#map{position:absolute;height:100%;width:80%;}In the <body> tags:
#righttab{position:absolute;left:80%;padding:10px 10px 10px 10px;margin:0px 0px 0px 0px;}
<div id="map"><img src="http://www.fuckcunttwat.com/j1/gear/img/vis.gif" border="0" width="80%" height="100%" /></div>Had to put:
<div id="righttab">
<img src="http://www.fuckcunttwat.com/j1/gear/img/vis.gif" border="0" width="80%" height="100%" />In so it worked in IE (fuckin’ M$). vis.gif is a 1x1 transparent gif (every web-dude should have one somewhere on the net). I don’t think IE likes empty <div> tags. Speaking of IE I found the whole thing didn’t work in IE unless you put all the Google data stuff outside the </body> tag, see the page source and you’ll get it.
To get Google Maps on ya site you have to sign up for a key (it’s free) and you can only use that map key under (every dir under) a certain domain name, so I can only use my key under www.fuckcunttwat.com. It can be a bummer to program as you have to upload the changed html page to ya web-space before ye can see the effects (my PC aint www.fuckcunttwat.com see).
</geek>
