Tales Of The Gurrier

My Cup Runneth Over
Originally uploaded by Gurrier.
Yep, it’s like I always say, ‘you get them in with the highbrow stuff, then hit ‘em with the dick jokes’. That’s where the money is.

Week 1
The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde

The list of titles ahead being somewhat daunting, I fear that several of these volumes will defeat me, drive my brain to distraction with sixty page digressions on the miserable working conditions of miners in 19th Century English mining towns or devastatingly dull critiques on the minutiae […]

Do you read, dear Reader? I read. I read all day. But what do I read, aye, there’s the rub. Email in the morning and then, with trembling heart, I venture to the RSS feeds and hurl myself into the backwash and slime of the interwebs. First to my friends and aquaintances, then a division […]

Hello internet chums. Things have been quiet here of late. I have been suffering deadly pains and torments with my wonky back. As you can see, I have finally relented with my controversial whiskey therapy and taken recourse to hard drugs. Pictured are my current batch of chemical assistance. I am now a 1970’s housewife, […]

**Election Eruption**Election Eruption**Election Eruption**
I’m late with this and election eruptions are everywhere, the stench of sulphur and raiméis lies heavy over the country.
More soon.
Level Two warning
Government to buy out M50 Toll bridge.
Ahh, the M50. Slinking like a concrete tapeworm around the guts of dear ‘auld Dublin Townâ„¢. The M50 represents the physical manifestation of all […]

Thanks to David over at wishiwerebaking for alerting me to an issue with commenting. It seems Aksimet, my spamfilter, may have tired of it’s diet of V0Agra and Transexuals and moved on to devouring comments from real people. If anyone has had an issue in attempting to leave comments, please drop me a line […]

Spending two days tearing apart the multiple computers, laptops, PDA’s and assorted digital doohickeys I own, searching for a piece of writing I know is in there somewhere. Why? Because I clearly remember sitting there writing the damn thing that’s why.
Then finding it in a notebook.
I hate that.

This is one of the reasons the internets is such an awesome place. One can hurl filthy words out into the void and insult touch the lives of people half a world away, without even realising.
I give you Thee Electric Bastards. RAWK!
Go give ‘em some love on the MySpace.