Someone get the RSPCA on the phone. Tell them it's urgent.
MY NARCOTICS-RELATED MELTDOWN, LET ME SHOW YOU IT
I have never seen more reasons to avoid drugs crammed together in one video than right here. If it's not the grubby junkie fingers pawing at newborn micelings, it's the slurred Specials duet and the plaintive plea 'Blake...please don't divorce mummy'. Do chemicals make people speak in baby voices? Can we blame various powders for cloying use of the word 'wibble'? Are these tiny mice creatures going to catch something blistery from their repeated contact with the diseased digits of Amy and Pete?
I don't know. Who the fuck gathers Amy Winehouse and Pete Doherty around to witness the birth of mice? Is this video even real? Am I still high from the pseudoephedrine I took on Thursday before clutching at Julian from the Presets? Shhh...it's Monday.
Comments
Anyone know where else this may be hosted, for our viewing and commenting pleasure?
What sort of mice do you keep Ms Fits? A pair of Swedish mice with long black and white coats would be my guess. Don't let the dog near them!
And it's probably fitting to inquire about the health of your little man at this moment. Is he well?
Dickhead.
Perhaps Mel Gibson can bring Amy & Peter along with Britney to save their sanity and bring them closer to the lord. Bibbidy-bibbidy-bib.
Ach, the poor wee mice
... and what's with the nails and hands on those two? Have they just been gardening, or are there scores of other more likely explanations? (None of which come to mind).
"EclecticEccentric said...
In the company of so many cool, hip and intelligent blog posters, I feel really geeky"
You are right to feel really geeky EE. Start dressing yourself from the op-shop and rolling your own cigarettes and it will all get better.
Totally expected Winehouse to dislocate her jaw and swallow those little micelings whole. Oh, and hasn't someone devised a crack pipe/ lighter combo that doesn't burn your fingers yet? Get on it, people... fame, fortune and the approval of James O'Loughlin awaits.
I knew I was exposing drug-taking-ignorance ...
Nice link. (I wonder if there are any videos of Amy in a red latex jumpsuit?)
Not sure who I'd trust more ...
Okay, probably Diana ('points' decision).
http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/2008/05/12/99-grammar/
the irony is not lost on me personally, I've just spent the past hour editing
Anyway, we looked after our mice, who were supposed to mate, and have babies, and we would all get to learn by proxy the joys of sex, marriage and childbirth.
Unfortunately, my lab partner and I had an adverse influence on our Mister Mouse, whom we had christened Freddy Krueger. He went completely mad, and began walking around in circles, and tried to bite anything that came near him. The responsible adult facilitator of the experiment carefully picked up the ailing mouse, and gently clutching him in his hand, brought his head swiftly down on the corner of the bench.
There were no babies born in our cage.
So, do grown adults usually keep mice? It seems an odd pet, though I don't discount the association of rodents with drug users, by any means.
One comment I came across in the Telegraph sums it up beautifully: "Disgustin Vermin, full of disease, they should be wiped out. The mice are nice though!".
Couldn't have said it better myself. Someone call a vet!
Only time I ever saw someone I knew like that was when a dear friend 'lost it' a bit and had a manic episode - hygiene took a back seat.
Or is it quite specifically to do with the gear?
The call for the vet was actually a reference to putting the "humans" down, not the mice.
They need help, and need someone to take control and commit them, with or without their approval, to try save their lives before its too late - and Amy has too much talent to waste her life like this.
I'll get off my soap box, and climb up onto my high horse and ride away now....
Genius I must say!
who knew, a talking baby mouse
I quite like 12.47 and 19.32 as well...
/good times..
"....not having been a crack-head....why the filthy hands?"
Well, you know. The impeccable personal hygiene standards of junkies.
I have to say, I just don't get addicts.
What happens? They're walking through Darlinghurst one day and see some junkies lying in the gutter and say:
"Wow. I sooooo want to do that."
The other thing I don't get is this: How fucking stupid is it she keeps letting people video here doing such moronic things?
Well, no. But then, you've probably never been addicted, huh?
"... or if it takes a certain 'special' kind of person to want to become a celebrity in the first place..."
This is a really intriguing question.
I have to say, we seem to live in an age when many people, including rock celebrities themselves, think music industry identities have some special entitlement to have their views (no matter how stupid) taken seriously on all manner of topic, even when entirely unrelated to their special field of endeavour. Whatever that is.
I mean, this has been going on since it was decided more or less universally that John Lennon and Bob Dylan were some kind of philosophers.
They were actually singers who were at one time popular with young people. Well, "young people" in 1968 or something.
Anyway, it seems, from what I can tell, it was about then, when the mode in the baby boomer demographic bell curve was at about 18 years of age or something, that people started taking "seriously" what drug fucked art-school drop-out musicians "thought" (so to speak).
That if you could sing (sort of) and were in a band or something, then you were a "special" person. Man.
That you were "anointed" in some way that made your stupid, intuitive opinions on fucking everything the veritable hallmark of intellectual eminence. Dude.
And that when anyone laughs at you it's because they're fucking square, man. Dig it?
So, if you think it's a good idea to shove a half-pound of coffee grains up your rectum; or otherwise decide that inter-galactic travellers are guiding your thought patterns, then these things are likely true.
And that you should hold a press conference to let everyone know.
What's surprising about that is a fairly substantial part of the population will agree with them on these points.
That demographic modal point has been aging for forty years, true, but has been more or less dragging western civilisation around with it the whole of that time. Losers.
And another thing, man. People are fucking stealing things around here, man.
Like, where's the fucking love, dude?
Fuckin, stolen, man.
..... and it's mouth and the little highlight on it's nose.....
Like, we're divided here, man. Totally.
Jeesus, man. That must be some good shit, you're on. Can I have a toke?
I'm seeing it!
Is it some kind of labrador or setter?
Well, no. Because it looks like a really stupid thing to do.
Me: What's that?
Junkie: Oh, it's heroin. I'm injecting it.
Me: Oh? Is that a good idea?
Junkie: I dunno, why not?
Me: Um, it's really expensive and highly addictive. Like, do have unlimited supplies of cash?
Junkie: I will as soon as I'm a famous rock star. And, why should it be any more addictive than, I dunno, Ovaltine?
Me: Yeah, they're good points. Give me some.
"Is it some kind of labrador or setter?"
Yes, it's looking up and to the left in profile. I once saw a cloud that looked like a camel.
was it a rain cloud?
was it storing a lot of water?
@ fellow V aficionados: the part that really freaked me out was all the people who had been 'processed' by the Visitors, disembowelled and held in suspended animation. I grew up on a farm. I knew when you pulled all the bits out of a cow, there was no way ole Daisy was ever coming back.
V scared the pants of me when I was little.
"Can I put you down for a gram or two?"
.--._____,
.-='=='==-, "
(O_o_o_o_o_O)
Tanks, dude.
"I grew up on a farm. I knew when you pulled all the bits out of a cow, there was no way ole Daisy was ever coming back."
In an extrapleural pneumonectomy (EPP), the lung, lining of the inside of the chest, the hemi-diaphragm and the pericardium are removed.
It is not possible to remove the entire mesothelium without killing the patient.
So don't try that at home.
I recently heard of some team somewhere getting all sorts of organs out on to the table and hooked up to various devices for a while to get at an otherwise inoperable tumor off the spinal cord of a lady (not Amy Winehouse).
Like, no way I'd try it at this stage of my career. I'm still in shock over the nail gun thing.
Uh-hhhuhhhuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh!
"That's why Winehouse's lips (sans lippie) look like two of yesterday's sausages."
I'm sorry. It's only brainwashing that makes people pretend Amy is attractive.
The same is true of Sarah Jessica Parker (very plain looking girl, that) and Jennifer Aniston (probably John Aniston at some point in her/his career).
But she can sing a bit.
And she likes wee beasties.
And she is true(ish) to the imprisoned SO.
So she must have a heart and can love.
/met worse
you are on fire tonight M! Keep 'em coming.
A sad waste of life and talent....
Oh the pain and the shame-but theres a gain from the game..if your game..Let all things slide and turn with the tide cause loose lips sink ships and chicks apparently dig big dicks, but they always say yours is just fine.Just as you say their arses do not look big when they ask-even though their butt blacks the sun..
Snow covered fire rings true like the belly of of a beast and the silent bell of the titanic....
La-La-La
V now replaying on Sci Fi channel on Fox - I couldn't believe it when I stumbled across it the other day.
I forgot how bad and yet so good that show was.
Oh, Marc Singer, you'll always be my Beastmaster...
A & P were behaving like a pair of nuff-nuffs for sure, but I'm equally sure that a good number of the infantilized morons that make up the Australian 15-40 demographic would behave in the same inane way in the same set of circumstances, stoned or not.
At least they weren't cheating on their taxes or telling lies for corporations or behaving like amoral, money-crazed sociopaths, which is what we do at the first opportunity, given any sort of celebrity.
Come the revolution, brother........
In this dump? You must be joking! When the children of the middle class are foraging on the sides of garbage mountains, maybe. Until then, she'll be right, maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate!!
May I borrow your hanky?
Out in the 'burbs there will be all these people in their backyards crouched over their piss distillers, trying to make them work while the CO2 buried in the ground farts dried dog shit in their faces.
Then they'll get really mad and smash up the distilleries using their garden gnomes as clubs and start screaming for the revolutionaries to come and save them.
But by then it will all be too late. There will be nothing left to revolt against, as all the politicians and rich people will have long since bailed.
So will the revolutionaries for that matter. Those left will just mill around dying of thirst and raping and killing each other while the politicians and rich people and revolutionaries are living in New Zealand and Europe and laughing at them all.
Like this: HAAAHAAAARRRRRHHHAAAAHEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeHEEEEHEEEHEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!!!!!!!
"Out in the 'burbs there will be all these people in their backyards crouched over their piss distillers, trying to make them work while the CO2 buried in the ground farts dried dog shit in their faces."
Now picture that being chanted out to the rhythm of bongo drums by some cat with a goatee and wearing a beret and roll-neck sweater with really tight black jeans over sandals.
I'll have a short black and cinnamon toast, thanks.
What's on next? Oh, cool. That dude from Scooby Doo.....
"HEY mister NINE-TO-FIVE commuter, we DON'T want your SUB-URB-AN trip to annihilation, NO way! Let me tell you...."
(bong-bonk-bonk-bong-tiddle-bonk-bonk-...)
He will cruise the empty streets in said 4WD in a frantic search for water, the last of which he'll find in the cracked bowl of a public toilet.
However, his fat gut will prevent him from sticking his large, misshapen head in to get it and he'll stand flailing in the middle of the empty street, to the last screaming his hatred of the dole-bludgers and single mothers and immigrants, although this has not prevented him paying many of them for sex back in better times.
Indeed, his last thought as his nicotine soaked heart fails will be of a husky transvestite releasing his codpiece in a park lavatory on a summer evening long ago.
This is the way the world ends,
This is the way the world ends,
This is the way the world ends,
Not with a bang, but a whimper.
Essential attributes: candidate is height/ weight proportionate (hirer has compressed L3-L4 disc).
Desirable attributes: candidate is impotent or at least not easily excitable.
"bong-bonk-bonk-bong-tiddle-bonk-bonk? I think we can do better than that people!"
I'm not very musical. So nope, that's the best bongo drum I can do.
Google that for the funniest Eyewitness News non-report in ages.
Anyway, unlike Angelina Jolie, at least Amy didn't boast about killing the mice.
"Scientist Tim Flannery has proposed a radical solution to climate change which may change the colour of the sky......... The gas sulphur could be inserted into the earth's atmosphere to keep out the sun's rays and slow global warming, a process called 'global dimming'........ the sulphur could be dispersed above the earth's surface by adding it to jet fuel......... "The consequences of doing that are unknown"........ Wealthy people should pay poor farmers to plant forests possibly through a scheme like ebay"
Wow! How many mice do you have to lick to come up with all THAT!?
I bet Tim's bong is shaped like Amy Winehouse! Wonder where the mouthpiece is?
Party at Tim's house. BYO drugs and mouses.
Go Tim.
At least he is coming up with ideas.
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