Film Script: The Village 2
Johnious and Sarcious, two peasants from 'The village' are enjoying a stroll near the woods of Methcascarthboroughshireston. The setting is that of an old lovely village, where the people lead rich lives, set in their ways.
Johnious: What a lovely village we have here, we are able to have rich lives indeed, set in our ways.
Sarcious: Thanks for telling me that, I didn't know that.
Johnious: It sure is a shame about those zombie chickens that violently rape us on Tuesday nights, though, isn't it?
Sarcious: Thanks for re-iterating that, I didn't notice them thrusting my anus.
Johnious: Hey, maybe they're from that large building over there! With the words 'PC World' emblazened across its front! I never looked that way before!
int. PC World. They approach a salesman.
Salesman: Can I help you?
Sarcious: No, we approached you merely to stand motionless and gaze upon your beautiful face. We in no way wish to communicate.
Johnious: Where are you hiding the chickens!?
Salesman: The Super Zombie Rape Chicken Slut 47 is a recent upgrade, it is currently being tested on some tramps we signed up last week and put in a pen. You are said tramps.
Johnious: And all these years I thought we were in an old lovely village, set in its ways. With zombie chickens.
Salesman: You've been there a week. You volunteered to do it. You even asked us to increase the power of the chickens for your pleasure.
Johnious: All these years...
Dogmonkey (Blog)
Friday, February 17, 2006
I forgot! Football can be well cool!
It's dead good man, when you get those thugs, with the names like Rodney Rotter and Big Arse Tony, and they go round fighting! It's just like Street Fighter, but they're actually on streets! And we're not talking Street Fighter 1, this is one of the later Street Fighters! It's WICKED, when they start stabbing each other up, just like Street Fighter (2) but more realistic! Don't get too close though, use binoculars matey! You don't want to get stabbed! I got stabbed once, right in the face! By my plastic surgeon that is! Haha! (I don't have plastic surgery)
No but once right, there was this fight going on, and one of the thugs opened this big box of knives, then he threw one of the knives! And it went really close to someones head! Actually that might have been an episode of Lost!
It's dead good man, when you get those thugs, with the names like Rodney Rotter and Big Arse Tony, and they go round fighting! It's just like Street Fighter, but they're actually on streets! And we're not talking Street Fighter 1, this is one of the later Street Fighters! It's WICKED, when they start stabbing each other up, just like Street Fighter (2) but more realistic! Don't get too close though, use binoculars matey! You don't want to get stabbed! I got stabbed once, right in the face! By my plastic surgeon that is! Haha! (I don't have plastic surgery)
No but once right, there was this fight going on, and one of the thugs opened this big box of knives, then he threw one of the knives! And it went really close to someones head! Actually that might have been an episode of Lost!
Let's DISRESPEC' football! Or footgay as I call it! Haha! (Gayball? Gayballs?)
Penis!
Football though, let's take a balanced look at it.
Good things about football:
Players bend over while they are 'warming up' - good for the gays
Aggravated group rape on women
Jason Lee - pineapple head ROFMON
Referees getting pushed over every 50 years or so
Bad things about football:
Every single person involved in football has an IQ less than 70.
Typical football conversation:
"It was a game of two halves."
"Liquid football."
"[Cliche #43]"
"At the end of the day, that's something open to debate."
"Did you just say masturbate? Do you want to masturbate me?"
"No I didn't, but OK then."
"Let's be gay!"
You know the commentary you get on games like Pro Evo or FIFA? That's actually less cliche ridden and less repetitive than real life commentary.
No but really now, what was that cartoon with the football team who were always seven nil down at half time, and during the match they always had to save the world ("I don't CARE how much DANGER the whole WORLD is in, we aren't STOPPING this MATCH!"), usually at the same time. And there was that black guy who never wore boots. Scored about 3 goals in every match yet they still didn't buy the poor guy a pair of boots. What was his name again? I can't remember his name, let's call him Pedro. Well they were all like "Hey Pedro, what's that, your feet are in immense pain due to you not wearing boots? Yeah whatever, get back to the stables!" That line may or may not have been in the cartoon. What was I talking about again? Yeah well anyway, my point is, they were all like "Hey Pedro, would you like to join us at the table for this team meal? We'd really like you to join us...NOT!" And then they'd all throw the fat from their pork chops at him and he'd be on all fours and have to eat it.
No, but if football was like that in real life it'd be more interesting. "Hey Joe Cole, we're taking you off, the opposing teams manager is driving a explosives packed train towards the school! Never mind that there's no train tracks anywhere near the school, STOP THAT TRAIN!" And then they'd film it, and intersperse it with the football when it got dull. Which is pretty much always. Yeah, they should just film various football players solving crimes using words of no more than two syllables by kicking footballs at things. Soccer Kid solved his problems that way, why not real life players? Yeah, forget the football. Well, maybe a penalty shootout over the credits.
Penis!
Football though, let's take a balanced look at it.
Good things about football:
Players bend over while they are 'warming up' - good for the gays
Aggravated group rape on women
Jason Lee - pineapple head ROFMON
Referees getting pushed over every 50 years or so
Bad things about football:
Every single person involved in football has an IQ less than 70.
Typical football conversation:
"It was a game of two halves."
"Liquid football."
"[Cliche #43]"
"At the end of the day, that's something open to debate."
"Did you just say masturbate? Do you want to masturbate me?"
"No I didn't, but OK then."
"Let's be gay!"
You know the commentary you get on games like Pro Evo or FIFA? That's actually less cliche ridden and less repetitive than real life commentary.
No but really now, what was that cartoon with the football team who were always seven nil down at half time, and during the match they always had to save the world ("I don't CARE how much DANGER the whole WORLD is in, we aren't STOPPING this MATCH!"), usually at the same time. And there was that black guy who never wore boots. Scored about 3 goals in every match yet they still didn't buy the poor guy a pair of boots. What was his name again? I can't remember his name, let's call him Pedro. Well they were all like "Hey Pedro, what's that, your feet are in immense pain due to you not wearing boots? Yeah whatever, get back to the stables!" That line may or may not have been in the cartoon. What was I talking about again? Yeah well anyway, my point is, they were all like "Hey Pedro, would you like to join us at the table for this team meal? We'd really like you to join us...NOT!" And then they'd all throw the fat from their pork chops at him and he'd be on all fours and have to eat it.
No, but if football was like that in real life it'd be more interesting. "Hey Joe Cole, we're taking you off, the opposing teams manager is driving a explosives packed train towards the school! Never mind that there's no train tracks anywhere near the school, STOP THAT TRAIN!" And then they'd film it, and intersperse it with the football when it got dull. Which is pretty much always. Yeah, they should just film various football players solving crimes using words of no more than two syllables by kicking footballs at things. Soccer Kid solved his problems that way, why not real life players? Yeah, forget the football. Well, maybe a penalty shootout over the credits.
Professional football has become the dullest thing in the world. It is so cliché ridden and characterless and sterile and just… dull.
Eating my tea today, my Dad insisted on having the radio on. On Radio Football, or Five Live, Or The Boring Gay Football Station, or whatever it’s called. They were discussing Gary Neville, and his celebration of a goal, by going to the other teams fans and cheering. They discussed this for OVER AN HOUR, or at least it seemed that long. I was literally eating my own arse I was so bored. Seriously, I was so bored I was considering going back in time and shooting the man who founded Sony, so that my Dad’s stereo would never get made. No but seriously now, I was considering just ending it all with some sort of massacre.
Gary Neville cheering at the opposing fans and kissing his badge. Hours of discussion. GRRR, MOTHER. This is the kind of thing which should be happening hundreds of times a game, like a film. Every football match should be like that football film with Sly Stallone and Pele in it. The one where Pele kicked a ball at a German man’s head and his head came off or something (may not have happened) What was it called? The Hurricanes? Yeah well, whatever it was, it was fun and exciting. And it didn’t cost 8000 euros and your firstborn’s life to get a ticket either. What happened in it again? They were about 48-0 down with 4 minutes left on the clock, then Jimmy Grimble comes on and scores 47 goals in two minutes before having a confidence lull because his special boots were burned by a passing wizard. Then with 10 seconds left he realizes it’s not his special boots that were eaten by a escaped boar that scored him them goals after all, but the memory of his Dad’s raping of him when he was younger. What were we talking about again?
Anyway, football is rubbish and dull and gay.
Eating my tea today, my Dad insisted on having the radio on. On Radio Football, or Five Live, Or The Boring Gay Football Station, or whatever it’s called. They were discussing Gary Neville, and his celebration of a goal, by going to the other teams fans and cheering. They discussed this for OVER AN HOUR, or at least it seemed that long. I was literally eating my own arse I was so bored. Seriously, I was so bored I was considering going back in time and shooting the man who founded Sony, so that my Dad’s stereo would never get made. No but seriously now, I was considering just ending it all with some sort of massacre.
Gary Neville cheering at the opposing fans and kissing his badge. Hours of discussion. GRRR, MOTHER. This is the kind of thing which should be happening hundreds of times a game, like a film. Every football match should be like that football film with Sly Stallone and Pele in it. The one where Pele kicked a ball at a German man’s head and his head came off or something (may not have happened) What was it called? The Hurricanes? Yeah well, whatever it was, it was fun and exciting. And it didn’t cost 8000 euros and your firstborn’s life to get a ticket either. What happened in it again? They were about 48-0 down with 4 minutes left on the clock, then Jimmy Grimble comes on and scores 47 goals in two minutes before having a confidence lull because his special boots were burned by a passing wizard. Then with 10 seconds left he realizes it’s not his special boots that were eaten by a escaped boar that scored him them goals after all, but the memory of his Dad’s raping of him when he was younger. What were we talking about again?
Anyway, football is rubbish and dull and gay.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Love Story
It's not love, it's something much more sinister than that. Something empty, something full. Something half full. Something two thirds full. Something slightly less than half full. That something? A cup. But what was in that cup?
Another cup.
"That's what I thought", said John.
It's not love, it's something much more sinister than that. Something empty, something full. Something half full. Something two thirds full. Something slightly less than half full. That something? A cup. But what was in that cup?
Another cup.
"That's what I thought", said John.
* * * *
John looked out of the window for inspiration. A cloud. Another cloud.
A cloud.
Suddenly, he felt inspired. He would write about a cloud, that had clouds with clouds, and did cloud. Off a cloud's back.
* * * *
John slept with the light on. He slept with the light on and the door open. He slept with the bedroom door open and the front door too. All the windows were open. The floor was thin.
The floor was decaying. The walls were disappearing. The roof wasn't there, the night sky was in full view and the heavens opened and the rain came. John slept outside.
"Funny", said John, looking back. "I only wanted a pack of fags."
* * * *
John looked at his poem, sighed, and thought. He thought until his brain hurt and his fingers stuck together. He may have lived in a pond, but did he really? Did he really live in this pond? Did he really spend his time in the pond, sleeping, eating and beating (himself off)? Was he there, or was something else at work, something altogether deeper?
No, he lived in the pond.
* * * *
John walked behind the bush, (Kate Bush) and hid. He hid, he hit 'z', he went prone, he strafed, he jumped, he pressed 7 and withdrew his rocket launcher.
He fired a rocket at the cake shop. He fired another. Limbs, blood, glass, chocolate eclairs.
John giggled.
* * * *
This wasn’t what John wanted. He didn’t need it. Heck, he didn’t deserve it. So he’d hit a couple of old ladies. The light was flashing amber, he didn’t have to wait, did he?
Sitting in the police station John thought about ‘nam. The sound of helicopters creeping above. The smell of death. The taste of chocolate éclairs. Yum yum!
* * * *
Having no weapons wouldn't discourage him. Having no hands wouldn't dull his spirits. Losing his legs wouldn't stop him. A lack of vision wouldn't affect him. No sight is a get out clause for losers anyway.
He'd roll his way there, and John would have his revenge.
* * * *
John's patience was wearing thin. Those around him surrounded him, suffocated him, shut him off, hurt him, embarrased him, surrounded him, suffocated him. Bummed him.
The end.
Sunday, October 02, 2005
Hello! Hello! Hello!
Ahaha! The hello game there! Fell free to try it yourself sometime!
Now I post today with my experience. My experience in what, you ask?
Why are you asking me that? That's a very personal question you rude, rude boy. I will, however, answer it for you.
Trust. A deep subject I'm sure you'll agree, almost as deep as a very deep hole in fact. A very, very deep hole even. But any deeper and you'd just be being silly. What are you, a clown?
Many many years ago a man came up with a very good test of trust. Who, you ask? I don't know, I'm not doing any research, why don't you find out for yourself? Lazy.
Anyway this man came up with the test, whereby one person would stand, facing away from the second. That was a really poorly constructed sentence wasn't it? The second person would fall back, and rely upon only their trust in the first person to stop them from falling onto their precious, precious (fat) neck.
Unfortunately this was a little too complicated for some. My Dad misunderstood large chunks of it, starting off by landing me onto his knee -instantly breaking my back- before smashing me in the face repeatedly with a spade. At the time I felt more than a little annoyed, but looking back now I realise I had a lot of growing up to do.
Ahaha! The hello game there! Fell free to try it yourself sometime!
Now I post today with my experience. My experience in what, you ask?
Why are you asking me that? That's a very personal question you rude, rude boy. I will, however, answer it for you.
Trust. A deep subject I'm sure you'll agree, almost as deep as a very deep hole in fact. A very, very deep hole even. But any deeper and you'd just be being silly. What are you, a clown?
Many many years ago a man came up with a very good test of trust. Who, you ask? I don't know, I'm not doing any research, why don't you find out for yourself? Lazy.
Anyway this man came up with the test, whereby one person would stand, facing away from the second. That was a really poorly constructed sentence wasn't it? The second person would fall back, and rely upon only their trust in the first person to stop them from falling onto their precious, precious (fat) neck.
Unfortunately this was a little too complicated for some. My Dad misunderstood large chunks of it, starting off by landing me onto his knee -instantly breaking my back- before smashing me in the face repeatedly with a spade. At the time I felt more than a little annoyed, but looking back now I realise I had a lot of growing up to do.
Friday, September 23, 2005
BLOG ENTRY NO. 3673-34-A
Hummmmm.
The sound of the hum, there. Invented in 1792 by King Henry VIII (He was the one who had loads of wives - cool guy!) the hum is not as popular today. Hum-bop? Mmm-bop more like!
So how are you? A bit tired you say? Hungover? Depressed? Suicidal? Haha, cheer up, it might never happen! Oh, it already did? Your mum was mauled by a herd of hyenas you say? Oh dear!
Here's a short excerpt from SFX magazine, from an interview with Hollywood director Barry Barryson, about his hit film "Titanic". Titanic is the top grossing movie of all time, with almost three people going to watch it.
SFX: Barry, I can call you Barry, right? Barry, what was your principal inspiration for the visual style used in "Tit"anic?
Barry: That's a spicy meatball! Mamma mia, mister!
SFX: How did you convince Kate Winslet to, how can I put this, "flop her baps out"? That is to say, show her breasts? Am I being to obtuse?
Barry: Me no understand, home boy! Wigga!
SFX: And what have you got lined up next then Michael?
Barry: Aaaaaah, de kenya, fellla lisssimo (continues to sing the title sequence from The Lion King)
I think you'll agree, that was "quite" an interview, eh readers?! Titanic opens in cinemas next week. Haha, "tit".
Now let's get serious for a moment. Anyone who posts blogs about what goes on in their life is a "gay". A "gay" of the highest order. No one cares how you got a good deal in HMV on blank CDs. Any more blogs I see like this, I will be ripping from the internet using Nero, or something. They call me the hacker.
Next week: lesbian staplers "get saucy". HP saucy that is! All the sauce in next weeks' edition, so make sure you staple yourself over here then, lesbian.
Hummmmm.
The sound of the hum, there. Invented in 1792 by King Henry VIII (He was the one who had loads of wives - cool guy!) the hum is not as popular today. Hum-bop? Mmm-bop more like!
So how are you? A bit tired you say? Hungover? Depressed? Suicidal? Haha, cheer up, it might never happen! Oh, it already did? Your mum was mauled by a herd of hyenas you say? Oh dear!
Here's a short excerpt from SFX magazine, from an interview with Hollywood director Barry Barryson, about his hit film "Titanic". Titanic is the top grossing movie of all time, with almost three people going to watch it.
SFX: Barry, I can call you Barry, right? Barry, what was your principal inspiration for the visual style used in "Tit"anic?
Barry: That's a spicy meatball! Mamma mia, mister!
SFX: How did you convince Kate Winslet to, how can I put this, "flop her baps out"? That is to say, show her breasts? Am I being to obtuse?
Barry: Me no understand, home boy! Wigga!
SFX: And what have you got lined up next then Michael?
Barry: Aaaaaah, de kenya, fellla lisssimo (continues to sing the title sequence from The Lion King)
I think you'll agree, that was "quite" an interview, eh readers?! Titanic opens in cinemas next week. Haha, "tit".
Now let's get serious for a moment. Anyone who posts blogs about what goes on in their life is a "gay". A "gay" of the highest order. No one cares how you got a good deal in HMV on blank CDs. Any more blogs I see like this, I will be ripping from the internet using Nero, or something. They call me the hacker.
Next week: lesbian staplers "get saucy". HP saucy that is! All the sauce in next weeks' edition, so make sure you staple yourself over here then, lesbian.
Saturday, August 06, 2005
Oh hello. Now I never did tell you who I am or why I'm writing this blog did I? I think the answer to both may surprise you. And possibly arouse you. But first let me tell you a sad, shocking story about a young boy called Alice living in the beautiful town of Grimsby.
Now this young boy was perfectly normal, and perfectly happy living with his parents in his big house, with his big bedroom, and big television. And big penis. Yes, Richard, he was a very happy boy indeed. Happy as a fox up a tree reserved for happy foxes who just want to 'hang out' in trees and gain great happiness from doing so.
Now Alice. Alice? Oh yes, Alice.
Alice liked his pranks. He was a real pranker. He'd prank when he got home from school, he'd prank in the shower, and he'd prank late at night under his covers.
But he didn't really enjoy it. If you asked him, he'd tell you he only really did it so someone could do a cheap prank / masturbation joke some years down the line.
So what did he want to do? Well that doesn't really matter, he was really very ugly and so no one really cared or bothered to ask him. He was also very, very fat.
And he was ginger as well. Ginger with very pale skin and lots of freckles. And no teeth, he didn't have any teeth. He'd lost all his teeth in a freak mining accident during a visit to Sainsburys. And now he's dead.
Some might have said it was unlucky, but luck relies on belief in fate, and I don't believe in fate, Daddy.
"No Daddy! Please don't hit me, I bought them myself with my money, I didn't steal them honest!"
Sorry, I got a bit sidetracked there. Where were we? Fate? What spelling, fate, or fete?
We had a school fete once and it was hilarious, one of the teachers started arguing with one of the parents. It seemed that the parent in question wasn't best pleased with some of the disciplinary techniques used by the teacher in question, and had taken it to him during the school fete. And when I say taken it to him, 'it' refers to his fist, and 'him', the teacher's face. And 'taken', punched. So in summary, he'd "punched" "fist" to "the teacher's face". He'd punched the teacher. Or more simply put, he'd punched his fist right up the teacher's fat face.
It was somewhat unlucky for the violent parent, that the teacher had recently acquired a guild of ninja's. Summoning them at that moment, within 4 seconds the parent had been 'clothes-lined' and elbow-dropped (in one smooth motion), before being tossed in* front of a passing land rover.
*off, in
Now this young boy was perfectly normal, and perfectly happy living with his parents in his big house, with his big bedroom, and big television. And big penis. Yes, Richard, he was a very happy boy indeed. Happy as a fox up a tree reserved for happy foxes who just want to 'hang out' in trees and gain great happiness from doing so.
Now Alice. Alice? Oh yes, Alice.
Alice liked his pranks. He was a real pranker. He'd prank when he got home from school, he'd prank in the shower, and he'd prank late at night under his covers.
But he didn't really enjoy it. If you asked him, he'd tell you he only really did it so someone could do a cheap prank / masturbation joke some years down the line.
So what did he want to do? Well that doesn't really matter, he was really very ugly and so no one really cared or bothered to ask him. He was also very, very fat.
And he was ginger as well. Ginger with very pale skin and lots of freckles. And no teeth, he didn't have any teeth. He'd lost all his teeth in a freak mining accident during a visit to Sainsburys. And now he's dead.
Some might have said it was unlucky, but luck relies on belief in fate, and I don't believe in fate, Daddy.
"No Daddy! Please don't hit me, I bought them myself with my money, I didn't steal them honest!"
Sorry, I got a bit sidetracked there. Where were we? Fate? What spelling, fate, or fete?
We had a school fete once and it was hilarious, one of the teachers started arguing with one of the parents. It seemed that the parent in question wasn't best pleased with some of the disciplinary techniques used by the teacher in question, and had taken it to him during the school fete. And when I say taken it to him, 'it' refers to his fist, and 'him', the teacher's face. And 'taken', punched. So in summary, he'd "punched" "fist" to "the teacher's face". He'd punched the teacher. Or more simply put, he'd punched his fist right up the teacher's fat face.
It was somewhat unlucky for the violent parent, that the teacher had recently acquired a guild of ninja's. Summoning them at that moment, within 4 seconds the parent had been 'clothes-lined' and elbow-dropped (in one smooth motion), before being tossed in* front of a passing land rover.
*off, in
Friday, August 05, 2005
Hello yes. Hello yes, indeed. Who am I, you ask? Oh, you don't want to ask that, well what do you want to ask? If I know any jokes about the weather? Well, ok then. I know a few, I'm sorry if you've heard them all before.
Q) Why is summer always welcome but never as good as you're hoping it will be?
A) It's named after the popular actor, Tom Summer Cruise, who shares the same attributes of being welcome but only ever fair to middling!!! (This applies to all years, except for that one good year, nineteen-nighty magnolia.)
Q) Why is it really cold in winter?
A) The angle and position of the earth in relation to the sun means colder weather. Also, you're dying from pneumonia!!!!
Q) How come all snowflakes are different?
A) They want to stand out a bit man!!!!
Q) What's your favourite season, and for what reason?
A) Spring!!!!!
Q) What month do these crisps go out of date?
A) October! Or more specifically, the 22nd! Make sure you don't eat them after, you might get ill!!!!
Q) Why is summer always welcome but never as good as you're hoping it will be?
A) It's named after the popular actor, Tom Summer Cruise, who shares the same attributes of being welcome but only ever fair to middling!!! (This applies to all years, except for that one good year, nineteen-nighty magnolia.)
Q) Why is it really cold in winter?
A) The angle and position of the earth in relation to the sun means colder weather. Also, you're dying from pneumonia!!!!
Q) How come all snowflakes are different?
A) They want to stand out a bit man!!!!
Q) What's your favourite season, and for what reason?
A) Spring!!!!!
Q) What month do these crisps go out of date?
A) October! Or more specifically, the 22nd! Make sure you don't eat them after, you might get ill!!!!
Dogmonkey's blog
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Previous Posts
- Film Script: The Village 2Johnious and Sarcious, t...
- I forgot! Football can be well cool!It's dead good...
- Let's DISRESPEC' football! Or footgay as I call it...
- Professional football has become the dullest thing...
- Love StoryIt's not love, it's something much more ...
- Hello! Hello! Hello!Ahaha! The hello game there! F...
- BLOG ENTRY NO. 3673-34-AHummmmm.The sound of the h...
- Oh hello. Now I never did tell you who I am or why...
- Hello yes. Hello yes, indeed. Who am I, you ask? O...
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