Old Year

So long, 2009! You have been a shi'ite year for Angry Puppet. I think the best fun I had all year was this one weekend when I cleaned my entire fossil collection with a toothbrush and some shoe polish. No, really. That weekend was amazing.

Miraculously, Angry Puppet received an invite to a partay tonight (the invitation specified it was a partay. Awesome). Angry Puppet plans on writing himself off, massively. Angry Puppet does not wish to remember the last few hours of what has been a sub-par decade. If you have ever seen the music video for The Prodigy's insightful meditation on domestic violence, "Smack My Bitch Up", that's how Angry Puppet envisions his NYE will turn out. Rock on everybody. \m/

Note: I am aware I should be wearing 2010 glasses, but obviously that wouldn't work, what with the zeros not being in the middle and all. This disappoints me greatly, the demise of the 00 new years' glasses. 2011 will prove an even greater challenge. I shudder to think about it.

Disillusioned Christmas

Angry Puppet feels angriest at Christmas time. It's the time of year he's most reminded of his current tenancy in an isolated tower of cold and bitter loneliness. Everyone else gets to fang on a massive turkey and wear stupid hats (as is my understanding of Christmas), but not Angry Puppet. I sit at home with my chicken-flavoured pot noodles, my model train-set almanac, and a slug of fortified wine. Boring. Have you ever watched Christmas Day television? It fucking sucks. If I have to sit through Its a Wonderful Life one more time ... ergh. You don't even want to know what I'll do.



Merry Christmas, no such thing.

Angry Childhood - Part II

At fourteen, I lost my virginity to this girl:

It happened the usual way: last school bell of the day had just rung out, so we retreated to the sports shed at the back of the hockey field and did it there. Best seven seconds of my life. She ruled the schoolyard. Her hair smelled like popcorn and Fruity Loops.

Then she ditched me for an introspective douche nozzle named Kevin. Honestly! I've never met a more impertinent, navel-gazing douche in my life. Smugness oozed from every pore on the kid's body. He was forever banging on about the end of his childhood, it was all My First Guitar this and Peace Rally that, blah blah blah, just discovered Dad Has Feelings Too and Mum's a Complex Woman. Oh boy, if I could go back, I'd put an end to his childhood. I'd end his fucking childhood so fast he wouldn't know what hit him. Feel the wrath, Kevin! You lousy, watered-down version of Angry Puppet.

Ugh. Angry Puppet needs to go eat his feelings now. Over & out.

Angry Childhood - Part I

I had an uneasy childhood as the youngest of four incredibly brutish brothers. They tried to quash my gentle, contemplative nature from an early age. I understand now this was partially due to jealously. Anyone can kick a football, or headbutt their way through firewood, or whatever, but very few can weave understated beauty through verse like I can. I also understand now that their ridicule has helped shape me into the man/puppet I am today. People look into my eyes and see rivers running deep. The same could not be said for my eldest brother, Dave:



Yes ladies, he's still single. Don't pounce all at once now!

Blargh.

Whenever Angry Puppet is feeling blue...

...He listens to this song:

Then Angry Puppet thanks his lucky stars his outlook on life isn't so emotionally superficial. Angry Puppet inflicts a gypsy curse upon the fool who green-lighted the release of this song. And to Lesley, the horn section, the camera-man, all those people on the bus: you saw evil being done, and not one of you stepped up to put a stop to it. Shame on you, shame on your families.

Now if you will excuse me, Angry Puppet has his Moroccan cooking class tonight. Over and out.

Katy's Theme

Raven-haired is my dear Katy,

I want take her on a datey

Her make-up's thick and kinda cakey,

Yet when she smiles, my heart goes breaky.

Although she's deep and contemplatey,

Lyrically, her songs aren't weighty

Her hobo boyfriend's rather flakey

I fear her standards may be shaky.

Her clothes inspire in me some hatey

If she were mine, I'd suggest, "Katy,

Ditch those jumpsuits in a lakey,

You're not a child, for goodness' sakey."

I think beneath the glitz and fakey,

A natural beauty lies in wakey

One day our paths will cross; it's fatey

And we'll be married, me and Katy.

by Angry Puppet

Apology

It has come to Angry Puppet's attention that he misspelt sphincter in his previous entry.

Angry Puppet would like to apologise to the Proctological Community at large, and to anyone else who may have been offended or upset by this tremendous oversight.

SORREH.

Oh hai.

So unless you haven't used the internet since 1998, you probably know what a LOLCAT is. If you have not, in fact, used the internet since 1998, there are two things you should know:

1. Geocities is dead. Sorry.

2. These days the internet is used primarily for the creation of LOLCATs, and thus, our majestic masters of the house have been reduced to the butt of everyone's jokes.

Honestly. Everyone knows cats rule supreme. If Angry Puppet were an animal, he'd be a cat: lithe, sophisticated, complex. Not either of the following:

Ugh.

Oh please.

Angry Puppet wants to give a fresh voice to the cats of the internet. No more of this "I can has" bullshit. And so, I sent these to LOLCAT HQ:

LOLCAT HQ haven't gotten back to me yet. This is a revelation, and they ignore. What's wrong LOLCAT HQ? Is it too real? Has Angry Puppet, once again, kept it too real? Of course he has. Story of my life. No good sons of bitches.

Goopy Goop

Y'all. *tips hat*

First up, I'd like to point out how amazing I look in the above photo. Gwyneth thinks I look like a young David Bowie here. I've gotten that a couple of times before -- he's definitely my celebrity doppelganger. So. There you go.

Second up, Gwyneth asked me not so long ago to contribute content to her awesome, awesome, awesome website GOOP. Awesome. G-Pal and I get along like a house on fire. We're both self-styled lifestyle gurus. We both radiate sanctimoniousness. We both know what's good for you. We both enjoy nourishing our inner aspects -- however, where G-Pal nourishes her inner aspect with coconut water, Angry Puppet nourishes his with poetry, and serenading ladies to sleep by playing Frente! songs on his guitar.

As for nourishing the outer aspect, we have no time for it. Fuck the outer aspect. It's lame.

So in this particular newsletter, Gwen invited a couple of deep thinkers (including yours truly) to discuss Pessimism. Enjoy.

Q. I have a friend who sees the world in a pessimistic light. This person is highly suspicious of people and situations, and sees, as well as experiences negativity at most turns. Why is this and what does it mean? What can be done to help someone of this nature?

A. Your friend is a wise person. Only the very highly suspicious survive. Angry Puppet learned to be suspicious a long time ago, and look where he is today: a rigorous blogger, already with 2 (count 'em, 2) followers. He landed himself a sweet job in the public service, pushing data from one Microshite Office program to another with ease and dexterity. Angry Puppet is known as the Data Whisperer in his workplace.

If Angry Puppet had applied "optimism" to his lifestyle and career choices, he'd most likely fail. His life would be one sorry aborted effort after another; failure at every turn. And that is no way to live. Pessimism got Angry Puppet into a very comfortable rut which he has no intention of hoisting himself out of. Things may not be optimum, but they're comfortable. Angry Puppet would rather be a comfortable pessimist than a shit-poor, constantly disappointed optimist.

Optimism is synonymous with getting let down, and describing oneself as a "realist" is a cop-out. Your friend don't need to go a-changing, he's got it sorted. Pessimism rules, everything else drools. The end.

Love and other Angry Catastrophes

Okay.. I won't lie to you.

The image below? I Photoshopped it. There was no holy matriomony between Katy Perry and Angry Puppet. Sometimes Angry Puppet likes to use Photoshop to construct fantasy lives for himself.

I wonder, sometimes, whether My Katy will ever come to her senses and leave Russell Brand (or as I like to call him, Russell Bland. Take that, Russell!). I do suspect Katy doesn't know what's good for her; one need only take a look at her dubious sartorial choices to understand this. There might be a few kangaroos loose in the top paddock, is what I'm saying.

So, I have prepared myself for heartbreak. It doesn't matter anyway, really. My first volume of poetry is just about near completion, and once it gets published, Angry Puppet is going to be up to his neck in pussy. I will be wading through pussy for months. Pussy as far as the eye can see.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go alphabetise my paperclip collection. Over & out.

ANGRY VICTORY.

Behold!

See, Russell Brand? See? Katy made her decision. She chose Angry Puppet. I, too, can look dapper with a silly suit and an even sillier hair-do.

ANGRY PUPPET PREVAILS.

Still angry.

A pictorial representation of Angry Puppet's love life

Angry Puppet in Excel

Open letter to bill gates. master puppitier and head microsoft doogle bug.

Dear Billuppet,
Why do you hurt me like you do?
Do you want for a better life without bars, grids and sort ascending? Because i do. Why do you make me ask office managers for advice when you know they will use it against me to make me feel more like a micro fool. I hate you and your autosum ways.

Yours in Freezed Pane,

Angry Puppet

Just an aside on my poetry:

I am aware that a lot of my poetry is quite cryptic and experimental. It is okay if you don't understand my poems straight away. Some people aren't very sharp; I have come to terms with this, and so should you.
But persevere nonetheless; much like Angry Puppet himself, growing to understand Angry Puppet's poetry is a deeply rewarding and nourishing experience.

\m/

angry puppet has a lot of feelings

if i were a sound, i would be a sigh
if i were a tree, i would be a bonsai (bound, trapped, oppressed)
if i were a bodily fluid, i would be a tear, rolling down your face
if i were a social networking site, i would be myspace (desolate, abandonned)
if i were a serial killer, i'd be john wayne gacy, the crying clown
if i were a hand gesture, i would be a thumbs down (or maybe devil horns \m/)

sigh.

by aa puppet.

Angry Puppet got shit-faced last night

Don't come near me. I have a thumping great hangover. Angry Puppets do not like hangovers.

I feel disenfranchised this morning. I didn't even bother to brush my hair before leaving the house. And that is really saying something, because Angry Puppet takes pride in his appearance.

Linens

The linens on my bed are filthy, so today I bought some new ones.
That's just how Angry Puppet rolls.

The Perry-Brand Disaster

This does not please me at all.
To be frank, what is Russell Brand but a low-rent Angry Puppet? Observe:

Why not me, Katy Perry, why not Angry Puppet?
Am I not pretty enough? Is my heart too broken?

Angry Puppet: A haiku

Me, Angry Puppet
Stinking ugly beast am I
Get off my web page

Angry Puppet at a glance

I was born a Scorpio. In many ways, I am a text-book Scorpion: intense, poetic. Magnetic. Highly charged, sexually. Beneath my steely exterior burns the passion of a thousand fiery suns.

Poem

Angry puppet

Perplexed puppet

Ugly puppet

Frazzled puppet

Caught-in-the-rain puppet

Don't-fuck-with-me puppet

Disillusioned puppet

Needs-a-Pimms puppet

by Angry Puppet

Mistaken Identity

I would like to advise there is a blog called angrypuppet.blogspot.com. Please note: This is not me!! His blog is not angry, and it is only mildly puppety. I am angry-puppet.blogspot.com. Observe the hyphen, make friends with it.

Love,
Angry Puppet.

Semi-Colon Blues

If Angry Puppet were a punctuation mark, he would be the semi-colon; misunderstood.