Friday, March 30

Email Soapbox

I'm going to London With my boyfriend this weekend to watch some plays and have sweaty sex in the hotel sauna, so the blog will be fallow for a couple of days.

I'll be back on Sunday to tell you how to win massive amounts of traffic for your blog.

In the meantime, following yesterday's rant about E-mail forwarding, here's a flash animation that explains my frustration far more eloquently and humorously than I ever could.

You can use the down time to check out some of the archived posts you may have missed.

Or you could spend it buying lottery tickets for Saturday night.

The results from the former option however, are far more reliable

Thursday, March 29

Grinds my Gears - Part 2 - Spam E-mails

You know what really grinds my gears?

All the e-mails people keep forwarding to me.

  • "Forward this email to save the whales."
  • "Microsoft will pay 3p for every person you forward this too."
  • "Your Bank account is overdrawn, and will be closed down. To prevent this, forward this E-mail to 10 people.."
I have tried to reason with these people...

"There is no such thing as an 'E-mail Tracker'" I've said.
"Companies don't get rich by giving away money," I've said.
"It's a whole load of TroodlePoop," I've said.

But people keep forwarding long E-mails promising instant access to heaven if I just pass it on to ten heathens before the next full moon.

So, I created a forwarding E-mail to stop Forwarding E-mails forever.
From: Simon Hembra
Sent: 29 March 2007 07:53
To: "Sue," "D.Grady," "Cierra Daniel," "Odis," "Madge," "Z. Murazik," "Andrew," Davon oore," "Megan.R.Leannon," "Harmon," "Cara," "Dayna,." "Ansel," "Fran," " Junior,"
Subject: FW: FW: FW: E-mail funds Puppy Slaughter!


Medical Company Pfizer gained sponsorship yesterday, from international computer manufacturers Microsoft™.

In the controversial deal, Pfizer will increase Email sent in the UK via advertising on Medication Bottles. For every E-mail sent Microsoft™ will pay $0.03 to Pfizer.

The amount will be doubled each time an E-mail is forwarded.

According to their Press Release, Pfizer plan to channel the sponsorship into their Animal Testing facility in Kent.

This is a barbaric testing facility

The ‘scientists’ play games with the animals, chaining them up and calling them names. Some are injected with manufactured viruses, increasing their sex drives till they die of exhaustion. They are made to smoke cigarettes, and wear stockings and make up. Many are taught to perform tricks, sparking rumours of a possible Pfizer’s Circus. And some poor creatures, like Rx, a five year old mongrel, had to eat out of a common Dog bowl!

A Puppy less than four months old was force-fed Dog-food from a test-tube. In a few hours he had grown an extra tail!

In an undercover report in 1967 it was shown that 99% of all animals, after testing was complete, were killed with a comedy mallet, minced up and fed to the remaining test subjects. Is it any wonder that the Mad Cow Epidemic started in Kent?

We can not allow this to continue.
All E-mail is tracked by a hidden file added during Windows Update 5 months ago. It can not be removed or deleted in anyway.

There is only one way to end this abuse.
  • Limit the E-mail you send
  • Think before you click send!
  • Do not forward that Chain E-mail!
  • Do not pass on that hilarious joke!
Only by breaking the E-mail chain can we cut the funding to this heartless Company!
Please forward this e-mail to your entire mailing list, then never forward again.

Working together we can stop Animal Cruelty in all its forms, even those sponsored by Bill and Melinda Gates.

The Puppies are relying on you!

Thank You


For the full details of this story Please Click Here
Go on. This is one E-mail I'll let you forward.

Wednesday, March 28

Readers' Caption Competition Part 3

"Who do the hero's call when they need help?"

Winner: Mike -"Man...Marvel has Stan Lee doing some odd jobs nowadays..."
Previous Caption Competitions

Tuesday, March 27

My Shopping Lists

We had a competition at work a few days ago to write a five item shopping list. The prize was an hour off work.

Here are some of my entries

  1. For Sale
    • A 3 Acre hollowed out volcano with fitted monorail
    • A ex squad of bitter marines
    • A shark pool with added piranhas
    • A Laser, world destroying size, with visible beam
    • And a white Kitty-Kat

  2. My Life Goals
    • A Pimped out red car with a spoiler
    • A vicious dog like a Rockweiler
    • A switch pocket knife
    • A fit trophy wife
    • And the rest of my life in the broiler

  3. Shopping List
    • Pasta Laguini
    • Vodka Martini
    • New Wool Beenie
    • Book on Houdini
    • And some Milk
Can you tell I wanted that hour off work?

And can you believe I didn't win?

Monday, March 26

Manic Monday - Spring

My First Meme.

I have to experiment with these things. If I'd never experimented I'd still be trying to find a girlfriend.

Just like these guys on spring break.

Like a dream come true for me... Except, you know, more hairy.

Sunday, March 25

Overheard in the Cynic Household - Part 3

Said by an angry mother to her 5 year old son whilst stomping him down the road at the shopping center:

"I don't care. You are not coming out!"

Sounds like a conversation my parents should have had with me a long time ago.

Saturday, March 24

It's Life - Gym

The first time I went to the gym I had a panic attack.

Or at the very least I was short of breath, tearful and panicking which is probably the closest I will ever get unless I meet Shirley Bassey. I would like to say it was caused by overly aggressive treadmilling or lifting too much weight. But it wasn’t. It happened on the way there.

Gyms remind me of gym class and as such of pain, ridicule and my sexy gym teacher. Whilst I couldn't be sure he would be there, I was confident the pain and ridicule would. Luckily I arrived a minute late and my friend had gone in without me. Afraid to go in alone, I walked home instead, hoping that any one walking past, seeing me in gym wear with sore wet eyes and shaking limbs, would assume I’d just left a spinning workout.

I still workout in a state of trepidation though no one has laughed at me yet or slapped me with a wet towel.

It's not that I don't enjoy it. Once I get past the initial ‘can't be arsed stage’ and actually put on my gym clothes it’s quite fun. It’s more that the benefits are so wearyingly slow to materialize, taking many weeks to show up, that one can happily contribute them to some other, more satisfying, factor.

"I’ve lost so much weight this week and all I’ve done is eat fast food! Quick, order me three pizzas, two buckets of KFC, five chocolate bars, a diet coke and a book contract! The world must be told!"

There must be easier ways. I could get my stomach stapled, or my flab removed by a doctor posing as a chainsaw wielding maniac. For a hundred quid I could get the fat sucked out of me and sent to a third world country, but no, I have to do it the hard way!

So I sweat it out at the gym, along with the thin people sweating it out trying to gain weight, and the fit people sweating it out trying to stay fit, and the short people sweating it out trying to reach the treadmill controls.

Then at the first signs of weight loss I’ll go out for McDonald's to celebrate. The weight piles back on and, deciding the workout isn’t working, I’ll eventually quit and try alcohol instead.

But dissatisfied, bored, and demanding more looks from the fit boys in the clubs, I'll be back a month later, the sweat pouring off my face and collecting in a pool at the top of my over sized stomach. There I’ll be - panting for breath, wheezing, exerting every ounce of strength I have until finally, with a sigh of relief, I manage to do up my gym trousers.

And joining the rest of the self-flagellators, I’ll wait patiently in line for my turn on the treadmill.

Friday, March 23


Don't date a midget with learning difficulties.
-It's not big, and it's not clever

Thursday, March 22

Healthy Oats and Grains

On the Sunday’s when my Boyfriend’s away I go to the Pub for breakfast.

In fact, if I’m honest, I go to the Pub for Sunday Breakfast whether his away or not.

In fact If I woke up one day to discover him dry humping a dead silver back gorilla in our front room I would probably still go to the Pub for breakfast before coming back and taking my turn.

Anyway I was there last Sunday waiting to order my fry up at about 9 o'clock in the morning, when the landlady serves the man in front of me.

‘Usual John?’ she says
‘Aye and the ladies too,’
I’m expecting, maybe, two breakfasts and some toast. Instead she pours 2 pints of beer and a double Vodka and Coke and arranges them on a tray in front of him.
‘£7.20 then love.’
He pays, sits down and him and his girls enjoy their ‘breakfast’.

It's times like this that I love Bristol...

It actually is Thursday today, unlike that Fake Thursday that nearly got me fired.

Wednesday, March 21

Why I'm getting Old... Part 5

I work shifts.

Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday I work a normal 9-5, and I'm always up early enough for a relaxed start to the day, but Monday and Thursday I get to lie in, get dressed slowly and take a leisurely stroll to work for a 12-8 shift.

Today however, I panicked through my morning routine, threw on yesterdays clothes and practically sprinted to the office.

The reason? I'd spent the morning sitting at my PC, surfing the blogosphere and thinking, in a lazy blissful happiness, that it was Thursday.

Tuesday, March 20

The Final Countdown

Found this Classic Cartoon at Dirtflakes Site
Welcome to my new desktop wallpaper!

Monday, March 19

Freelance Cynic Birthday

It's precisely 3 years since the first freelance cynic post on the old Freelance Cynic site!

What a shame I haven't improved in the slightest in all these years!

Sunday, March 18

Ring Wars

Following my rant about the Lord of the Ring books, Dale drew my attention to this ciip, which I think, explains everything far more elequontly than I ever could!

Look for the wonderful 'Walking demonstration' of the trilogy half way through!

CAUTION - Contains Strong Profanity and brief vomiting.
(I honestly thought I would never have to say that on this blog...)

Saturday, March 17

Shear Paradise

I have a Britney Spears relationship with my barber.

I experience culture shock every time I go; being raised to believe £10 was the right price for a haircut, paying £7 makes me feel wonderfully white trash. The walls are covered in cut-throat razors, newspaper clippings and family portraits; the barbers speak to each other in Arabic (or something), whilst making fun of the customers; and the main clientele have just stepped off the boat.

I seldom go there, partly because I hate spending money and partly because I’m desperately scared of the place. Each time I do however, I ask to have my hair cut short. And for some reason my barber always seems reluctant to do so.

I thought it was communication issues. Being beautifully Asian, with an accent stronger than the average Bristolian’s blood alcohol level, he no doubt considers my Thanet accent (imagine the Queen’s English as spoken by cockneys) as impenetrable as his own, and so neither of us are particularly sure what each other is saying, the same way that you may not be particularly sure of the meaning of this rambling sentence and have to read the whole thing again to get the point.

But he had other reasons for avoiding my shearing desires.

This time I carefully explained the concept of “an inch” to him to make sure he understood and reluctantly, after much questioning, he acquiesced.

I noticed his hands running through my hair, his cold, smooth palms pressing against my scalp. It was exotic. His reflection seemed more handsome than normal; I found myself enamoured to him. Then I realised. He was unintentionally giving me a head massage, his hands sending a heated thrill down my body.

I’m gay. I may lose some of my slower readers for being so blunt, but frankly I can do without them. I’m pretty straight acting (finding camp acting an outmoded theatrical style) but some things, like wearing Pinky and the Brain T-Shirts, may give away my natural tendencies, especially to straight men who, I assume, are on the look out for such things.

And having my head massaged by a tall, dark straight man – well - it felt good.

And that’s why my young masculine barber, whose straight as a Muslim and can spot gay from 50 paces, makes me keep my hair long – so I can’t feel his hands pressing against my scalp, don’t get a strange rush from it, and he doesn’t have to deal with a homosexual’s unwanted and unexpected sudden attraction to him.

That’s why he was reluctant to cut my hair short. That’s why it was so hard to make him do it. And that’s why I’ll be going there more regularly from now on.

At £7 a go it’s the cheapest happy ending I’ve ever had.

I seem to write about the Barbers quite a lot possibly because it's the only contact I have with straight males. Here's an old article on the woes of haircuts from the now archived Freelance Cynic Site

Friday, March 16

Reader's caption competiton 2

"Bristol's Annual Bath Day?"
Previous Caption Contests

Wednesday, March 14

Overheard in the Cynic Household - Part 2

I was lying in bed with my Boyfriend the other day (which is much more interesting than telling the truth in bed) when he broke into this song:

'You like cheese 'cos you're a mouse rolling on your ear on the floor!'
They may have been a story leading up to it, but nothing could sensibly explain him lying in bed, bobbing his head back and forth, and singing that illogical, irrelevant masterpiece over and over again.

Unless, of course, it was the inevitable effect of dating me for over three years...

Tuesday, March 13


Being a writer (working on a novel I got the idea for two days ago) I am also a very keen reader.

Currently I'm reading Wurthering Heights. I started because it came free on my PDA rather than because of a desire to look posh, but have found myself somewhat obsessed with the trials of Heathcliff and Cathy. I've also found myself mentally phrasing sentences in 19th century tongue,

'Tis no fault of mine that the sales be not forthcoming you blackhearted wench'
However there are certain books that I've never got round to liking. Including the Lord of the Rings Trilogy.

I should read them, I know after all the English speaking world is split into two 'Those who've read Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit and those who haven't,' but then it is also split into two by those who believe everything on Living TV, and no one is entirely sure what side is the right side to be on.

But I find the books remarkably dull, and needlessly long. Tolkien describes everything in pathetic amounts of detail.
"On the way, there was a leaf which had fallen like a feather from a tree, and not wishing to crumble it's delicate frame, which was browning in the first breaths of autumn, the Fellowship walked around it, placing one foot in front of the other, as was the custom until they reached the other side. "

Thankfully, I have found someone who agrees with me - Book-A-Minute SF/F

Here are their definitions of the three books.

The Fellowship of the ring
Bilbo Baggins, your Ring is evil. In a couple decades, we'll try to destroy it. In the meantime, leave it for Frodo to play with.
Bilbo Baggins
It's not evil. It's mine. My precious. Mine! MINE, I TELL YOU!! MOOHOOHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
(Frodo takes it to RIVENDELL. Some FRIENDS come with him. They are attacked by black riders a LOT, and it is SCARY.)

Frodo Baggins, if Sauron ever gets this Ring, the world will be destroyed, and evil will reign forever. We must act quickly. Take the Ring to where he lives.
(They do some travelling. Some more FRIENDS come with him. Gandalf DIES in the mines of Moria, but will later be RESURRECTED in GLORIFIED form having triumphed over EVIL, an obvious literary ALLUSION to that movie where the guy comes back as a DOG.)

Frodo Baggins, give me the Ring.
What have I done? (dies)

The two Towers
(Gandalf frees THEODEN and overthrows SARUMAN. A bunch of IRRELEVANT stuff happens. Then the PLOT starts up again.)

The Return of The King

We must travel the Paths of the Dead.
You'll die.
(They don't.)

The Hordes of Mordor will destroy Minis Tirith.
(They don't.)

We must attack Mordor. We'll all be killed.
(They aren't.)

Mmmm, yummy finger! (dies)
The Ring has been destroyed, but now we will die in Mordor.
Buck up, Master Frodo.
(A bunch of feathered DEUS EX MACHINAS come out of NOWHERE and save EVERYBODY.)

That's the kind of length they should have been written in the first place...

Sunday, March 11

The Strange World of Google - Part 2

These are some Google searches that have brought people to this site recently. More importantly they have made me begin to wonder what the hell I'm writing about on here...

Firstly Freelance Cynic - Health and Beauty Advisor
Hope they found the help they needed...

And then, something slightly more worrying...
Really hope that they found help...

The strange world of Google - Part 1

And if you haven't watched it yet, check out the Feminity Song

Friday, March 9


I've had this song on my playlist for some time now, taken from a best of Disney CD Collection.

It's taken me a while, this song is rather special to me, but I finally feel I know you well enough now to share it with you.

This is a Disney ettiquete lesson for girls. Please watch it, It's quite brilliantly shocking

Isn't that just wonderful? (Read that in a slightly camp voice for added emphasis) Here's my favourite verse: (Read the Lyrics)

"Be radiant, but delicate
Memorize the rules of etiquette
Be demure, sweet and pure
Hide the real you"
Way to Go Disney! Warp a generation of females...

Gym Duracell Bunny competitor

I had every intention of going to the gym today, I just never got round to waking up early enough to do it.

In my eyes the extra sleep is almost as good as a full cardio workout anyway...

Thursday, March 8

Why I'm Getting Old... Part 4

I find pleasure in grumbling over the price of Coffee Shop Coffee

Previous Aging Concens
Part 3, Part 2, Part 1

Wednesday, March 7

Becoming me - Leave the House

  1. Talk
  2. Get off the Web
  3. Get Healthier
  4. Leave the House
  5. Join some Clubs
  6. Say Yes
  7. Spoil Myself
I've been putting off the Becoming Me this week. You may have noticed.

This is partly because my few waking hours that arent spent at work have been spent playing with my new toy. Secondly, I really don't know this week, what I'm supposed to do.

I've left the house, I went out twice last week with work colleagues. I've been going to the gym, met my boyfriend and his work mate last night and even went to register at the doctors. But being too proud to admit I screwed up the list creation I am damn well going to write something.

I've got out the house this week. Go me,,,

This whole Becoming Me thing has progressed faster than I expected it too. I'm annoyed I've done so well. It makes it so hard to find something funny to write about.

That however is part of being British. Even when we do something well we have to berate ourselves for it. And of course, in true cynical englishness, there's bound to be something ghastly waiting around the next corner...

Tuesday, March 6

Become Republicans

One for all you Wanna be Republicans out there, and all you democrats who are sick of losing the vote!

Monday, March 5

Hunger Shock

I brought myself a new PDA this weekend, part of my intention being that I could use it to update this blog. Instead I've spent the last few days playing with the PDA. Sorry. I have however, gained an amazing score on Space Trader.
  1. Talk
  2. Get off the Web
  3. Get Healthier
  4. Leave the House
  5. Join some Clubs
  6. Say Yes
  7. Spoil Myself
Walking home from the gym the other day, munching an apple on the way, I planned to go to Tesco (God of all supermarkets) and get some healthy, but easy, food for dinner.
I was heading down the aisle towards the ready meals when I walked past the eggs.
Now I love eggs and my love affair with them is powerful. Looking back over my life it is one long story of egg. I could happily eat 12 a day if my boyfriend would let me and still be up for an egg mayo sandwich as a midnight snack. Which is why it was somewhat odd, when I decided I didn't want them.

Baffled I walked on. The cake section was the same, the pizzas too, even the chocolate seemed unappealing, and then I realised a very bizarre thing. I wasn't hungry.

I am always hungry. It is very rare to hear to my stomach growling but mostly because I never give it a chance to. I eat when I'm bored, I eat when I'm tired, I eat when food is put in front of me, and hunger has never really played a part in it, more a kind of reflex action involving my hand and face. But standing next to the chocolate display in Tesco (PBUH) I realised I wasn't hungry. The apple had filled me up. And I went to the ready meals, got an Indian (a meal, not an actual resident of India), came home, put it in the oven and nearly forgot about it.

Something is beginning to take effect. I'm hoping it isn't the flu virus....

(P.S. Over the next few days, l had a fry up, a pizza, and a Burger King, so it may not be quite the revelation I was hoping for. But I didn’t eat all the chips so maybe all is not lost…)

Sunday, March 4

British Wit, or lack off

This is a wonderful blog which simply points how brilliantly stupid the British are, and will help you to pass the time while I work up the energy for another post. That's not as easy as it sounds, because I, like all Brits, am also stupid!
Overheard in the UK

Friday, March 2

Gym Duracell Bunny

  1. Talk
  2. Get off the Web
  3. Get Healthier
  4. Leave the House
  5. Join some Clubs
  6. Say Yes
  7. Spoil Myself

I have been to the gym four times this week and I am going again today. I am completely knackered, my legs are about to give out in a congealed mess of blood and skin below me, I’m finding it hard to raise my arms to type and I occasionally slip into a dream world between reps where working out is a federal offence, but I'm seeing it through.

And it is an amazing feeling, on par with making your partner orgasm before you do.

Not that I've had much chance for that recently. I have, after all, been spending all my free time at the gym...

Thursday, March 1

A Miracle on Park Street...

  1. Talk
  2. Get off the Web
  3. Get Healthier
  4. Leave the House
  5. Join some Clubs
  6. Say Yes
  7. Spoil Myself

I went out with my work mates last night drinking!
To those who may not understand why that statement is being exclaimed allow me to elaborate.

  • Last night - a Wednesday! Even though I'm working today!
  • Went out - I do not go out. I prefer to sit and watch TV or surf blogs trying to find the well written ones.
  • I – the nominative singular pronoun, used by a speaker in referring to himself or herself.
  • Work mates - I haven't had ‘work mates’ since I moved to Bristol, and I prefer not to mix my work and social (or lack of) life, but last night I went out drinking with people from work.
  • Drinking! – Imbibing of poisonous toxins for pleasure and sexual gain.
And I loved it. Really - even though my friend and I started drinking early ad probably made complete tits of ourselves. But then that is the purpose of alcohol in this country.
And I made myself leave early so I could wake up in time to go the gym today!
  1. n a building or room designed and equipped for indoor sports, exercise, or physical education. (gymnasium)
  2. n An English male name as spelt by dyslexics
What is going on with me? A month ago I would have hated the idea of going, refused to get drunk, sat in a corner and not spoken to anyone, and left at about 10:00. But last night I really enjoyed myself, had a few drinks chatted to everyone and left at the reasonable hour of 11:30 but only because it's a school night and I'm going to the gym today. (I also had Nandos for Dinner, but we won't tell anyone that...)

I think, maybe, someone should get me Doctor; there is clearly some strange sociable creature that has taken over my brain,
And at this rate it will probably take over my liver too.

Why I'm getting old... Part 3

News about a 2% council tax increase worries me enough to look up from my drink...

Previous Aging Concens
Part 2, Part 1

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The Freelance Guru!

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