Monday 30 April 2012


I’m currently developing an exciting new project based upon the philosophy of imagineselving that I created recently. Essentially imagineselving is when you imagine yourself in someone else’s body life (“I just imaginselved myself as Peter Andre and now I feel pointless”. And also you can imagine someone in a different life other than their own (“ha can you imagineself Peter Andre as a talented singer and interesting person who doesn’t look weird? No, neither can I”). The third example is to see some behaviour being exhibited by someone and then to compare them to someone because it is similar to their behaviour (you see someone who is completely fucking boring and is devoid of any talent being followed by a TV crew and say “that person is imagineselving they are Peter Andre. LOLZ.”

So my latest project is the second kind – imaginesleving people in different situations than they are/would be have been in. Here is an excerpt from a chapter, I wont ruin it by saying who the person/people being imagineselved are.


“Fucking hell, “ said the captain of the Titanic, “we’ve hit an iceberg and I don’t see us coming back from this.” The Titanic was fucked. They said it couldn’t be sunk be it could- and would sink – remember about this, about how it is supposedly an example of something that can’t sink but does sink – there is a payoff later.

The captain of The Titanic wasn’t the only one who realised the massive boat was going to be at the bottom of the ocean in a couple of hours., the leader of the ship’s band, The Black Eyed Peas, also realised it. “Guys, it’s been an absolute honour to play with you guys but I guess this is it..we’re going to all die.” hugged everyone and turned to walk away. He looked smart, he was wearing a blue coat with loads of colours on it – like the one he always wears when appearing on The Voice. Taboo and Fergie looked at

Fergie said, “, what are we going to do without you. What’s all this dying shit. We’re the Black Eyed Peas for crying out loud.” Taboo and nodded – neither of them saying out loud that she was right but the ‘nodding’ movement of their heads was a universally accepted as meaning ‘yes, I agree’. Fergie started to cry a bit, “I can’t believe this is going to sink – especially after I was in the remake of The Poseidon Adventure which was clearly heavily influenced by the real life story of the Titanic….it’s so…..” started beat recognised the tune and began to accompany him, they also high-fived. Fergie wiped the tear from her eyes. She recognised the tune and knew this backing track needed a vocal. But she stopped them and asked them to do it in a different key as it was too high for her. They did. As the intro started again Taboo started to dance a bit, or something. Then it got to Fergie’s cue…”It’s like  raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa—-iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin on your wedding day”. Yes, she was singing Ironic by Alanis Morrisette. Because her drowning on a boat after she had been in a film about a boat drowning was a bit ironic, much like a boat that people had said was unsinkable sinking was a bit ironic, this is the bit I was referring to earlier when I said there would be a payoff later.

For the chorus the 4 ‘Peas were arm in arm as the water drowned them. They were dead. Dead Eyed Peas.

This is an excerpt from IMagineselving Yourself And Others in 100 Selves, by Philip Bridgehouse (Publisher Yet to be found)

Cue Laughter

I didn’t realise it at the time but there is a definite correlation between ‘getting a life’ and watching snooker. I haven’t watched snooker properly for years; conversely when I watched a lot of snooker the only thing I got to put my penis is was my fist-  with which I then masturbated my penis until the point of ejaculation (and sometimes further*).

I watched about 20 minutes of the World Snooker Championship on BBC2 tonight. It mainly seemed to be the same people that were playing as 15 years ago. The main difference was the commentator, I think called Ted Lowe, was not doing the commentating having perished to death of being really old and so he wasn’t there to say “he’s potted another ball with his stick”. But, yeah, all the players seemed to ones I remembered from the good old says of James Wattana, Stephen Hendry and Alain Robidux, who once got so offended by Ronnie O’Sullivan being able to beat him playing with his eyes shut that he cried uncontrollably throughout the last five frames of the game.

Of course I haven’t ignored snooker completely: not like major sponsors and television broadcasters (Boom! In your face snooker – I will kick anything while it is down) who have shunned snooker like the world shuns people who win X-Factor in the odd numbered years**. But the main people were Mark Williams, Stephen Hendry, John ‘Cheat’ Higgins and ‘The Hurricane’ Ronnie O’Sullivan. Now all competing with some Asian players and some racist player who I didn’t see because they all got beat in the first round. Oh and there is now someone called Judd Trump, quite an excellent name – but more suiting of a Dickens character than a leading cue-shooter.

It seemed duller than it used to when I watched it. Then again I have had sex these days – who is the real winner?

*I was genuinely intrigued about where one could go: did the sensation double?  Did the ejaculate glow? My minimal research over the years just showed results suggesting diminishing returns for extended effort, which is just not my philosophy on anything. My philosophy on most things is the more effort required the less desirable it is. But conversely, because it can require effort, also: want what you can’t have until you can have it then don’t want it.

**Maybe even numbered years. It seems every other one is tossed aside – your Steve Brooksteins, your Shane Wards.

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