Cliché Theories: Gods and Science

Many of you may be aware of the concept of God, a deity, someone who resides in the heavens and controls everything and makes the things that happen actually happen. Some of you may well believe the stories of this omnipotent being to be true, and others of you may not.

I, on the other hand, have no strong feelings one way or the other. That's right, I'm an agnostic. To get the plate set and everything understood, I'll tell you now that I completely agree with science in every single notion. Don't get me wrong though, atheists are stupid. I can tell you that I have honestly researched most (it's probably impossible to research all of them, since some of them are dead or so new that it hasn't yet come to my attention, or indeed there's a religion followed by a tribe somewhere in the Amazon blah blah) religions, and of course science as well, because I wanted to get everything straight in my head. I wanted to know what everyone believed so that I could deduce what the best possible answer to life is. Unsurprisingly, most of the religions that fight against each other are exactly the same.

Oh, you know what just occurred to me. Loads of atheists will claim that most wars are fought on the basis of religious disagreement and not science. Yeah, well, let me tell you this. World War I was fought for like a billion different reasons, and one being that Kaiser Willhelm wanted a navy to rival Britain's. Okay, that's not religion, but it's not really science either. However, was the Cold War anything to do with religion at all? Or was it indeed about being more scientifically advanced than the enemy? If that turned into a war, then the world would have been destroyed. And that would have been a war based on science.

Anyway, my point is that I don't think that any of the answers that people have come up with so far are 100% the correct answer. I think science is currently the most correct, but that's more in terms of our history and where we came from rather than the great unknown.

So, let's get on with these theories. I'll get the most ridiculous one out of the way first.

The Collective Theory
This is a theory that I came up with years ago, and I've pretty much disregarded it now because ... well I just don't believe it. It's largely based around the human psyche. This theory is pretty much the theory that every single human in the world is psychic to a degree, but we're all linked, and all of our linked thoughts are collected into a giant great big ball of psychic stuff to make up what most religions would call God. So when something coincidental happens, like karma getting you back for something you did wrong, it's actually someone connecting to you via the Collective and dealing what must be done. In fact, this theory helps explain all coincidence, such as unnatural predictions, saying something at the same time as someone else and it's all controlled by the Collective, which in-turn is just us.

Now that I've said it again, it actually sounds like a pretty cool theory. Of course, it holds about as much weight as God does, but you know.

Oh, I forgot something. It would also explain why people feel connected to God when they pray. Of course, that can also be entirely linked with the human condition. The person believes that they are connected to God when they pray, and therefore it is likely that they'll feel something when they do pray. In fact, that links nicely in to my next theory.

The Human Condition
As I said, it is very likely that all people, when they pray, feel connected to God simply because they believe that they are. You can condition yourself to feel pretty much anything when doing a certain activity. Like, if you believe that you will bruise your left knee when playing the piano, then there's a very high chance that your knee will bruise the next time you play the piano. Of course, you really have to believe it. Same with seeing ghosts and stuff. If you believe in ghosts, then you're much more likely to feel a presence or even bloody well see one than someone who doesn't believe in them at all.

What I like about this theory is that it can pretty much prove the existence of God from a certain point of view, but of course the drawback is that it can prove the existence of Superman as well. My point is, every day a billion people wake up and are either happy or sad or want to kill fuck loads of people or save the lives of fuck loads of people because they believe that God is watching over them. God has an actual effect on the day-to-day lives of people, and even if He isn't real that's got to mean something right?

Of course, I haven't yet said whether or not this is any good.

In some regards, being a worshipper of a higher power is a good thing. It can make people better for it, but as soon as they try and convert that's when I believe it starts turning bad. You see, the need to impart your beliefs on other people suggests that you think that the other person's answer to life is wrong, and that can then alter your perception of them. Before you know it, your name is Adolf, you've risen to power in Germany and you're building Concentration Camps.

So my point is this, I know plenty of people who sit either side of the God line. The reason that these people are my friends is because they haven't told me to believe in one or the other. Well, y'know, aside from the occasional atheist, but that's because they're stuck up and need to be conditioned to shut the fuck up about religion. I guess at leas the atheists haven't yet decided to start murdering people with religion though. But of course, there's probably an atheist cult in America who are just about ready to do it.

Just be careful with how you view the world, hey kids?

Pete out.

IT'S SUNNY

I really have no idea how I used to write so many new posts. It's ridiculous. I guess I'm working on loads of video work nowadays though.

I shall not abandon this blog though, ever.

Pete out.

The LOGO Saga!

Okay, so this is the first short film I've ever done, and what do you know it's entirely about my LOGO from my popular YouTube channel. Hah, that's funny because I'm not popular at all. I mean, I'm sure the people who do follow me actually like me, but you know... the internet isn't my biggest fan. But, the internet is full of mini and very large Hitlers, so I'm not too bothered about that. No, seriously, if the people of the internet decided to make a violent army, then there'd be like eight holocausts.

I actually had an argument about the definition of a holocaust recently. It was with a Jew. I accidentally said that there was going to be a holocaust, as opposed to an apocalypse, and he was all like, "SAY WHAAAAT?!" And I was like, "Oh, did I just say holocaust? I meant apocalypse." And then he was all like, "Sounds like someone has it in for the Jews." And then I was like, "What? Holocausts aren't about Jewish people. It kind of fits what I was saying anyway. You can have a holocaust of the human race." And then he was like, "Yeah, but it's come to mean the extermination of the Jews now." However, in this particular circumstance, I was not in the wrong. Okay, there is better terminology to use, such as genocide, but the word genocide has always been related to the ... Rwanda thing... you know, with that tribe that wiped out that other tribe... there was a movie about it... the UN was involved and then as soon as they backed out the one tribe wiped out the other tribe... God damn it, I'm annoyed at myself now. My point is, we shouldn't segregate words. Like, there was a time when "The War" meant "World War One", or indeed during the Cold War it was "World War II", but now it doesn't mean a damn thing, and that's good. Segregating words is not a good idea.

Anyway, let's not get sidetracked by the segregation of words. This short film was a chance to prove to myself that I could do something vaguely cinematic while keeping in with my style of filming, and I think I've done that very well if I'm perfectly honest. It was also very, very fun to film.

I may even do a behind-the-scenes possibly.

Anyway, it all started in Ireland with the castle scene. It was just made up on the spot. I needed a scene that essentially told me to go back to England, but we had a castle, and then we decided to do the Monty Python parody. It was originally supposed to be a Japanese guy who told me to go back to England and there'd be some kind of moral story behind the whole thing, but then the French Irish Morons were brought in and I thought "How about I kill people instead? Yeah, turn me into a murderer. Good idea." It was at that moment that I knew how I was going to end the LOGO Saga, which is good, because I didn't previously know.

When I got home from Ireland I filmed the introduction stuff with Chris Devey and the clone shots as well. Somehow, and I don't know how, but it is a lot of fun filming Pizzle. He's such a fun, pathetic character to play as. Giving Electric Teapots Pete his own identity was born at this point as well, and he appears to be a more laid back, sarcastic guy than Cliché Pete is. I haven't yet decided if that should be a recurring feature.

Anyway, when we went to Camber Sands, I filmed the scenes for ET Pete and Pizzle. They weren't all that amazing, and the fight between Pizzle and Jerome left something to be desired, but I am, after-all, an amateur, and I am, after-all, working with amateurs who have even less acting experience than I do. Wait, they took drama. Hmm... Nope, I still think I'm a better actor than Dukey. I do a lot of it nowadays. I mean, I know I'm acting myself or Pizzle, but hey, it's still remembering a script and being a certain way. And that's all acting is, right? No one has ever said to me, "I'm not convinced that you are you," so by that reckoning I'm one of the greatest actors of all time.

When we got back from Camber, the main challenge started: staging a sword fight. It was actually surprisingly hard. I was planning on making it up as I went along, but it turns out that that looks shit on camera, so we had to spend a good twenty minutes choreographing each shot, and that's twenty minutes before every single shot. It was loads of good fun though, and you have to admit, it looks damn good, right? I have to thank Josh mainly for that, since he taught me some fencing techniques.

This has been one of my favourite, and hardest things to film solo. Of course now, though, it's time to crack on with Granite Moths. I also want to have a crack at this Minecraft project I've been trying to work on, but it's not going anywhere at the moment. I just need to write the script and scramble together some voice actors. I want it to have as little dialogue as possible though. WAIT. What if it had no dialogue at all? That'd be pretty weird and cool. Actually, no, never mind, I don't like that idea. Little dialogue works, but I don't think no dialogue would work at all, seeing as I'm cameoing loads of- WHOA, very nearly gave you a spoiler.

Anyway, if you haven't yet, watch the LOGO Saga, and keep watching my channel! Keep watching my blog as well, because I'm sure I'll come up with some new theories and stuff soon. I would really like to do this comic thing I talked about before as well... but I'm no drawer and I still can't think of a good storyline. I might parody Batman, but from a Cliché point of view. I could do it as video series... Maybe. I'll have a think.

Pete out.

Electric Teapots: 5 SECOND WEEK

Uh... yeah, this is a little later than when they were done, but fuck it. This week for Electric Teapots we've produced five second videos in parody of the Five Second Videos channel. I would link it, but I've never actually watched them before, so there you go.

Done.

Pete out.

Camber Sands

Whoa, so there was like, this whale, and then there was a massive explosion.

Anyway, Camber Sands.

This was the holiday that just passed with the company of Dukey, Josh and Joe. The dudes, as I like the call them. As you may well have guessed, Camber Sands is the name of a holiday park, and not actually a place. We stayed in a caravan built to hold up to eight people, so we actually had enough room to wank- I mean cook bacon. Or something. Swing a cat, that's the one.

*Cough, cough*

So, the photacular (that's the adjective for something that can be photographed) nature of this trip was dampened by the fact that we were consistently next to or in water. There was a swimming pool and an ocean. The pool was just grand. It was only 1.7m deep, so there was no chance of drowning, and it also had a current machine. That's a machine that produces a current in the pool, so that there was a chance of drowning to make up for the shallow nature of the pool. Either way, while my body is too weak to help me swim for long periods of time, I did indeed enjoy the time we spent together frolicking with our tops off- I mean playing innocently in the pool.

There was a game we played that involved pinning the opponent's feet to the ground. I suppose that, too, would have simulated drowning in the ocean if there were a shark or octopus or sharktopus nearby.

On the Wednesday we went to Hastings because it sounded cool and there we saw a way to inform Rohan if we were in danger:

I like Rohan, Rohan's cool.

That's just a super cool picture.

That's just two morons doing their moron thing.

That's also just a cool picture.

Anyway, on the Thursday some ocean was involved and I was too ill to go in. There was also a burial involved, but I was too ill to die, so Dukey went in instead. I'd love to share a picture, but Dukey hasn't bothered to upload them yet. In fact, I'm going to shout at Dukey now.

That feels better.

Anyway, it was a right laugh all the while we were there. We could have died multiple times, and if that's not the symbol for a good holiday, then what is?

Being alive, that's what.

Pete out.

Cliché Theories: Did Dinosaurs Invent the IPod?

The answer to the above question is: No.

Sorry for the massive spoiler alert there. If you remember my last entry for Cliché Theories about attention spans, then you may well remember that at the end I wrote:
"Next time on Cliché Theories: Did dinosaurs really invent the iPod?
Okay, that's a lie, I won't be doing that."

Well guess what, fuckers, THAT WAS A LIE! I AM DOING THAT!

This isn't an actual theory, just it seems convenient for me to do it.

See, if you think about it carefully, the design of the iPod is well-suited for dinosaurs. Some of them have fingers, a lot of them have flat feet like elephants, and guess what? The iPod fits both of those niches.

Of course, I'm talking about the original iPod, the iPod when iPods were still cool.

See? Look. One massive button. That was the iPod's main feature. The fact that it was fucking easy to use. Even a Stegosaurus could use that. Humans have fingers and intelligence, whereas dinosaurs had very little of either. They were basically just big eating machines, but the iPod caters to that market. The dumb, mindless animal market. With massive hands/feet. Now I'm not saying that iPod owners are fat or stupid, it's just that if you were fat or stupid, you probably had an iPod, whereas intelligent people just used their phones or some complicated Sony device.

Oh yeah, I don't like Apple tech. Just getting that out there.

Just let me show you an example of one of the leading competitors for the iPod during that time.

Wow. You know what happened when I searched "Popular MP3 player"? I got a search result that consisted entirely of iPods and iPod shuffles and iPod rip-offs. Guess there are more dinosaurs alive today than we thought.

There you are. That was a very popular MP3 player design. Something you could plug straight into your computer. In many ways, it was much, much better than the iPod. More convenient. But what the fuck would a dinosaur do with that? They can't just expect to operate something that technical, with all those fiddly buttons. No, they need one big central button.

Speaking of the Shuffle, in fact, that would be even better. That doesn't even have a screen for them to break. They just push the big, central button (it's got other little fiddly buttons, but not the 'on' and 'play' buttons, so they're not really needed) and listen to whatever comes up. In fact, there's no point in having a screen for dinosaurs because they can't read.

Don't you dare point out the logic that dinosaurs wouldn't understand music. Perhaps if they listened then they'd gain sentience over time! After all, isn't music the most basic form of communication?

Huh, that being the case, today's music is one massive string of insults. Even if you can't understand what Justin Bieber is saying, you feel aurally raped. See what I did there? I wrote aural instead of oral. That's clever. And witty.

Anyway, I think the evidence is clear. The iPod, and definitely the Shuffle, were invented exclusively for dinosaurs... a few million years late.

Speaking of audio devices created for creatures/people who were around before the invention of electronic devices, check out an MP3 player designed exclusively for Jesus:

Damn those fundamentalists be crazy.

Anyway, Apple is controlled by dinosaurs. End of.

Oh wait, that's an entirely different theory. Guess that'll have to wait until next time!

Pete out.

WILD POKÉMONS!

In this week's episode, I play around with some animation techniques to make Pokémon. I think it was rather successful. It was a quicker, more animated version of the one Josh and I made for Entry #35 of Granite Moths, and I don't prefer it at all. If, however, I need to use the Pokémon animation again (which I probably will at some point) I know now to make a combination of the two.

Camber Sands next week, whoo!

Pete out.

A Pigeon's Tale

(23 October 2009)

Dear intruders of my personal life,

I guess the best place to start is with an introduction. I am Master Sergeant Blue Beak of Squadron One, the primary fighting unit of the Resistance. I’ve led a life of subtlety, my first memory was of me falling into a snow drift and when I emerged I was completely blue. Thus, I was called Blue of the family of Beak.

“Whoa, dude, that’s some pretty deep shit.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t use pens can we?”

Oh yeah, I’m a pigeon.

The one who claimed that I was writing in shit is called Sergeant Buck Beak, my cousin and inferior. Inferior is the right word to use when discussing those of a lower rank to you, right? Oh well. We’ve formed a mutual respect for one another, something that doesn’t come often in the air force, especially amongst Squadron One’s ranks.

For the record, I wasn’t writing in shit. I was writing with shit. No pens, remember?

Blue Beak finished up his entry and folded the soggy piece of material he had used and placed it under his wing. Buck Beak nodded towards the centre of the square they were perched in, and watched as a small human child chased away a flock of birds that were previously munching on the leftovers the humans had dropped.

“They’re attacking! It’s like yesterday all over again!” the young and startled pigeon flew over its commanding officers to escape the terror.

“Rookies, everything scares them,” Blue Beak stated.

“Give them a break, Master Sergeant; things are starting to get worse. The other day an adult human with a large stick attacked us. It’s not kids that are bothering us anymore,” Buck Beak said with a look of concern in his eyes.

“Ooh, look out, rogue human infant at twelve o’clock. Time to show the runt what real pigeons are made of,” Blue and Buck perched perfectly still as the human child wailed, squealed and kicked at the air. After about half a minute the child gave up and stared menacingly at the pigeons that did not appear fazed by the thing. Blue presented his wings and shouted angrily at the child, who ran off crying. “Yeah, that’s right, run off you stupid creature. Humans, I really do not understand them.”

“Tell me about it. Shall I recall the Squadron?”

“Yes, I think immediate retraining is required.”

“You said it, sir.”

**

(26 October 2009)

The retraining is going terrible. We tried to inspire the troops by showing them a training montage from Rocky Beak, and then they all thought that slapping a bag for five seconds, and then jumping up and down for another five seconds whilst keeping in time to the music is what training is all about. Lieutenant Dare Wing decided to try and inspire the troops himself.

“Never in my time have I seen such sorry excuses for Airmen. I mean, do you really know what being part of the Resistance is all about? According to my records, your training is up to scratch. Master Sergeant Blue Beak has done his best to ensure that we get the best out of you. So what the fuck is up with you rookies? What is it? You were picked to be in Squadron One because you were the so called best of the best. Well why don’t you display it? Someone, please explain it to me,” the Lieutenant knew he wouldn’t get an answer, their embarrassed, sorry-looking beaks told him that much, but he knew that being a ball breaker would work with these Airmen.

Thus, hours upon hours of star-jumps initiated, followed by hours and hours of marching.

“Permission to speak, sir,” said Airman Tuft Feathers with the sound of pain on his voice.

“Permission granted,” Sergeant Buck Beak said.

“Why are we walking for so long when we can just fly?”

“Because, while flying is all well and good, and will indeed be the best way to escape from any situation, how would you cope if you were to lose the operation of one of your wings?”

“Well... I guess I’d ... walk.”

“Exactly, Airman, you’d walk your sorry ass back to base camp. If we didn’t do this constantly then you’d be in a sticky situation indeed.”

Back at the base camp, Blue was discussing things with Dare over a make-shift table, with small amounts of bread that they would occasionally peck at. Base camp was on top of an abandoned car park that conveniently overlooked the centre of town that the humans were constantly bustling through, day and night.

“What do you think, Master Sergeant? I’m asking you this now, what do you really think of the human threat?” Dare said, putting emphasis into his voice.

“I don’t think we should live like we’ve been doing for so long now. We take the scraps of food that the humans leave behind, and quite frankly I don’t think that’ll cut it anymore. I mean, they’re actually clearing litter now. It’s like they want us all dead.”

“I agree with you, Blue Beak, we need to contact the General right away. Where’s my red phone?”

“I’m right here, sir,” a pigeon that was strangely coloured red stepped up with a small pouch attached to his leg. Lieutenant Dare Wing placed the parchment he had just written up into the pouch and Red Phone flew off.

A number of hours later Red Phone returned with a new parchment.

“Ah, the General says hello,” Dare stated whilst reading the parchment.

“We really need to find a better way of communicating,” Blue said, peering over Dare’s wing.

“Maybe we could take something from the humans.”

“Yes, they do put strange cuboids up their ears and then speak into them. Perhaps we can develop a similar technology.”

“We’re really moving into realms that we’ve never dared venture before. Red Phone, I’m going to give you a lengthier message, make sure the General does the same. Unless the General orders you to piss off, you are not to leave his side until he gives us the go ahead on my idea.”

“What is your idea, sir?”

“Oh but that would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

**

“Squadron One, rally to me,” upon Dare’s command the pigeons waddled over and stood in formation in front of him. “This is an important mission men, you are entrusted to boost the morale of pigeons everywhere, to ensure that more and more follow our example and stop taking the humans’ fucking leftovers. We will strike the café immediately and plunder as much as we can, and at the same time prove to the humans that we are more than just a harmless nuisance. We shall be known as a deadly nuisance, threatening their very survival as a species!”

“Sir, that’s a little over the top,” Buck added.

“Yes, well… I like to dream a little. Now, my faithful pigeons, fly like you’ve been trained by professionals, which you have!”

(27 October)

The order was given and I started to beat my wings. It was a sensation I felt every day, yet I still absolutely loved the feeling of anti-gravity beneath me, like nothing could bring me back down.

We took flight, and headed towards the human café, where the creatures were happily munching on scones and drinking coffee. That coffee would soon be full of my stool.

The shit bombings started and the humans instantly ran for cover. Within moments the men, women and children were covered in bird droppings. Plops in their drinks told them that their coffees were no longer drinkable, and immediately it seemed that the humans had lost this battle. But, umbrellas and parasols went up and the shit was no longer effective.

“Sir, they’ve deployed shields, what are we going to do now?” Buck screamed at Blue.

“Buck, we’re going to scare the living daylights out of them,” Blue winked at Buck, “You’re my wingman.”

Blue and Buck broke from the rest of the squadron and flew beneath the human shielding and the already frightened humans shrieked and tried to fling random objects at the brave pigeons. Several of the humans even formed lumps in the back of their trousers in the terror. Hah.

The other pigeons flew in and started picking up all the food substances and mini milk cartons they could get their claws on. Master Sergeant Blue hovered on the spot firing orders at the young pigeons, but smiled at how well the assault had gone.

Suddenly a burly human in greasy clothes burst out of the café and brandished a wooden tray. Unfortunately Buck was amongst the pigeons, and when he gave the order for them to disperse, the tray smashed into him, sending him flying towards the ground. Blue spotted this and immediately started cursing at the human.

“BUCK, NO! Airmen, use your beaks!” the pigeons obeyed and swarmed the bastard human, pecking at him wildly. Blue made his way down to his cousin, and then held Buck’s head in his wing. “Stay with me, Buck, you’re one of the finest soldiers I know!”

“Damn, I was only two days away from retirement,” Buck coughed out.

“No you’re not; you’re several years away from retirement.”

“I know… I just wanted to say something a black man would say.”

“Yet, I’m still not going to let you die.”

“Yes you are, Blue. I can’t feel anything anymore. The world is cold and I can see the light.”

“That’s just your concussion talking.”

“Blue, there is no way I can survive this. Give me the burial of a hero.”

“You didn’t even need to ask me that, Buck. You’ll get the best damn burial this world has ever seen.”

I called off the attack when the pigeons had gathered enough stuff, and I carried Buck with me, to make sure that his memory would live on forever.

**

(28 October)

Today is the day that we bury Sergeant Buck Beak, the best damn airman I’ve ever known. I... I can’t write anymore. It seems worthless. Everyone’s faces could tell the picture. Buck was everyone’s friend. Let’s get this over with.

Squadron One stood in formation at Base Camp as Sergeant Buck Beak's body was carried past them in a cardboard coffin. The coffin was then placed down next to the gutter, which had been purposefully filled with the cleanest water for the occasion. The pigeon anthem was played, but the gusto and heart it usually seemed to have didn’t have that effect any longer. It seemed that the musicians, too, were mourning.

Blue Beak marched up to the coffin, placed his wing on the lid and then slumped his head down. The Master Sergeant would rarely ever be seen standing in any way but bolt-upright, wings clasped behind his back as if a superior was constantly watching. But now he was reduced a sobbing slouch. Lieutenant Dare Wing placed his wing on Blue’s shoulder and his head jerked up about half an inch as his instinct told him to snap to attention, but his heart didn’t want to deal with regulation that day.

**

(15 November)

Our plan worked. Beaks everywhere are taking flight to ruin the day-to-day activities of the humans. The Resistance continues to push forward as we work our way further and further into the human fortresses. Everyday our food stocks rise, so much so that rationing has been cut back immensely. Our understanding of human technology is starting to improve, all because one day Tuft Feathers pushed a button on a stolen communications device and it started emitting a noise that we now know to be called a “Justin Bieber”. We do not know why the humans invented the Justin Bieber machine, but the noise that expels from it is monstrous. Plans are being set in motion to find the source of this Justin Bieber and we plan to eradicate it.

Still, I do hope Buck’s death was worth it. He inspired millions of pigeons around the world to let loose their shackles and fight back. Apparently the pigeons in France are doing very well. The French humans just don’t care enough to retaliate, and simply resort to leaving food outside for the pigeons to feast on. Yet, back in here in England, the fight will continue for many generations to come.

One day, the humans will treat us as equals.

A Super Irish Adventure

POW! That's right, I went to Ireland, and it was awesome. You know what? Ireland is an awesome country. Kerry's pretty good as well. That's a county in the south west of Ireland. More populated with old people than attractive women, but if my choices to go to places were based on looks alone, then I'd go to Northern Ireland. It'd also not make for a very good holiday thesis. Thesis is the wrong word to use there. I don't care.

So the week began with some trains and with some planes and with some ... automobilanes and soon we were at our desired location. A cottage in the middle of Fuckknowswhere. You may be thinking that Gaelic sounds like a bit of a harsh language, seeing as one of its towns is called Fuckknowswhere, but the truth is that I made up that name. It's not real. The town we were closest to was called Cahersiveen. The reason I made up a place name is because we were not in that town, and were in fast surrounded by fields. But that's what Ireland is all about in my opinion, fields and niceness and the kindest people on the face of the planet and majestic views and sparkling seas and a proverbial fuck-load of cows. Like, a metric fuck-ton of cows. You see a field? You see a cow. You see a house? There are cows next to it. In the middle of town? There's a cow effigy. Like, the only place that they like cows more is India. A by shit do they love cows. I certainly hope that their milk tastes nicer, or all that worshipping cow nonsense will have been for nothing.

Either way, let's talk about the holiday. The first day was very much just settling in, finding out where everything was, annoying each other by moving stuff around. In one circumstance moving my entire bed to another realm of existence. Moving Joe's clothes and forming them into a creepy-looking doll.

And you know what makes holidays all the more worthwhile? Pictures. Like, fucking loads of pictures. The best pictures, however, can only be formulated by visiting the most beautiful places.

This is where we went to on our first day. It was literally just a beach five minutes down a dirt track from our accommodation, but Jesus Titty Christ look at those marvellous images. Even the keenest of eyes and the snappiest of fingers couldn't have taken pictures better than those. Maybe if I owned a DSLR... but still, I owe it all to the magnificent surroundings. 

And, as ever, my quest to find the world's most amazing sunsets (tied in with my quest to take a picture of a sunset everywhere I go) continues:

Now that's the best I've had in a while. Perfectly silhouetting the foreground to make the sun the focal point of the image, the mountain gloriously tinted with orange and the clouds just thick enough to amplify the effect of the Sun without impeding the visuals. Damn that's a good sunset.

On our travels, we also met a ridiculously photogenic dog:

He's just so photogenic! Ridiculously so!

So on the ... Monday we went to Velentia Island for a little while because we were told it was a good idea, and over there we saw a pub hotel, some ocean and some people in a death-trap. I mean a water trampoline. There was also the option to go suiciding. I mean kayaking. But it turned out that all of these death-related, I mean water-related activities started the next week, and the only reason that these morons, I mean people, were in the water on the deathpoline was because they'd booked it. That was a shame, because I really felt like drowning this week.

You may be noticing my negative outlook towards water-related activities. Boats are fine. Boats are essentially an extension of land, but instead of it being stationary, it takes you from one piece of land to another. This brings me on to my second point. We have this wonderful thing called land, where we get to be dry, and our feet are on the floor, and the largest and deadliest creatures are bears. And it's really easy to control the bear population. Underneath the water's surface, there is another entire world that is just waiting to eat us. There are things like sharks, killer whales, jellyfish, giant squid, and creatures that can theoretically live forever. Like lobsters. On the surface, they just seem like large crustaceans, but if you go deep enough, there may well be a lobster the size of your house. That's another thing, on land our feet are on the ground and we can't die, but in the water, who knows what could happen? A rip current could drag you out, make you tired, punch you in the face and then you drown. Swimming in the ocean is completely overrated.

Anyway, back to Ireland. Crabs.

Oh, and capturing rays of sunshine.

My argument for Ireland being the best place ever grows stronger.

Anyway, on ... a day we hired some bikes and found a castle. But here's another picture that is awesome just before we get to that.

Anyway, Ballycarbery Castle.

Pretty cool, right? But then it started raining. And rained it did hard. So we high-tailed it back to our cottage as fast as we could. It was fucking wet. We were fucking wet. It's the kind of wet that takes two days to dry. And I wasn't wearing waterproofs. Dun dun dunn.

Uh, but yeah, my pictures have run out apart from the ones that I took on the plane, and I'm sure you've seen the generic out-of-the-window-from-the-inside-of-the-plane picture before.

So that concludes my trip to Ireland. If you feel that you have been sufficiently informed of my holiday, then go and have a bagel in my honour. If you do not, then eat something you don't like. Like lettuce. Nobody actually likes lettuce. Eat lots of lettuce. Just pick up some leaves, and eat them. Don't do it maliciously, just do it because I told you to and because this post has actually been very informative so there.

It was a bloody good trip, though.

Pete out.