If bad hair is a measure of one's poetry skills, I am Keats' frontal lobe.
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Life, as seen from the eyes of a hopeless narcissist. A true story of one man's journey through life's little pleasures and pointless struggles; a man whose last friends died 65 million years ago; a man who believes evolution has taken a step back after Velociraptors...
This is the inspirational story of his life, his experiences, joys, sorrows, women and dinosaurs; his sometimes hilarious, sometimes tragic escapades and his one true love: himself.
Blog Archive
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2006
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August
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- I have a request to all those talented directors i...
- Now, that's what I'd call a gift
- Lizard liqueur
- Ode to an extinct theropod diapsid.
- How poetry killed my hair
- Shortcut to fame - Suggestion 14
- A weekend, a wedding, some fun and an overdose of ...
- The pain comes up every now and thenWith a semi-re...
- Some crazy coprolite
- Evidently, John Lennon hasn't read The Selfish Gene.
- Holy crap, people still believe that vedas are sci...
- "Teh suck" that's jobsahead.com
- Among the few women that've made me feel human in ...
- Five thousand years of civilisation hasn't given t...
- The passion of the deinonychus
- Andamans, ahoy!Will be back on Aug 16th!
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August
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4 comments:
So jealous. :(
Maaarave illa! :p
Star Wars Episode 10: Chewbacca Wears a Shirt.
Frontal lobe and all ah? Ayyyayo
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