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<feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><id>tag:judasisback.blog.co.uk,2009-11-09:/</id><title>Judas' Bible</title><link rel="self" href="http://judasisback.blog.co.uk/feed/atom/posts/"/><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://judasisback.blog.co.uk/"/><generator version="1.0">MokoFeed</generator><updated>2009-11-09T11:49:24+01:00</updated><entry><id>tag:judasisback.blog.co.uk,2006-02-07:/2006/02/07/trilogy~543333/</id><title>trilogy</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://judasisback.blog.co.uk/2006/02/07/trilogy~543333/"/><author><name>SkinnersSkidmark</name></author><published>2006-02-07T18:59:01+01:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T18:59:01+01:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;Hard-nosed Harry walking down the street.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Typical high street - shops on either side a few market stalls - medium level of people on the streets&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Harry walking medium fast pace down the street. Dressed quite smart. Eyes focused straight ahead - uninterested by everyhting going on around him - contrast shot with other people looking in windows and messing about with wallets and mobile phones.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Harry is also carrying a newspaper with him.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;As he progressors down the street - a middle aged lady steps into his path and asks him stepping next to him - keeping up with his pace - if he could spare two minutes for a quick survey.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Without even looking at her (still focusing straight ahead) he raises his left arm (the one with the paper in his hand-rolled up) and swats her like a fly. She almost falls down and shields her face.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Harry not even slightly moved by the whole affair continues to walk down the road.
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://judasisback.blog.co.uk/2006/02/07/trilogy~543333/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:judasisback.blog.co.uk,2005-12-20:/2005/12/20/my_forever_delayed_second_blog~402959/</id><title>My 'Forever Delayed' second blog</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://judasisback.blog.co.uk/2005/12/20/my_forever_delayed_second_blog~402959/"/><author><name>SkinnersSkidmark</name></author><published>2005-12-20T20:19:40+01:00</published><updated>2005-12-20T20:22:30+01:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;Right then, after my relatively sick first blog, what next?&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;may as well have a figure of authority in this one. &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;so without further ado. Here goes scene two.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;SCENE TWO&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;I think my character will be Peter the psychologist,&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Start:&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Young girl walks into Colin's office.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Office - quite spacious, not much light coming in - only one small chink natural light from an old fashioned wooden frame - shaped rectangularly - with curved top (i'm sure there is a name for that type of window). Wooden desk - two chairs. One much bigger and comfier than the other. Surrounded by bookshelfs brimming with books and disorder. The desk in contrast has an in- out tray - a computer on one side and is very well ordered. Item with a red shroud over it - hard to make out, could be a mirror.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Peter - middle aged man, clean shaven, short brown hair, smart casual. Looking relaxed and extra calm with what he says.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Girl - very thin - sligtly pastey maybe - genenrally very attractive but too skinny.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;P:Hello&lt;br&gt;
Peter doesn't look up from his file. Sat in the big chair leaning back with his file. Very relaxed&lt;br&gt;
C:Hi&lt;br&gt;
almost a squeak&lt;br&gt;
P: Clare is it?&lt;br&gt;
Peter still looking at his file and flicking through it.&lt;br&gt;
C: y...yes&lt;br&gt;
Clare is still stood up - can tell from the outset that she has no confidence.&lt;br&gt;
Peter looks up, looks her up and down, raises an eyebrow and goes back to his notes.&lt;br&gt;
P: Please sit down Clare.&lt;br&gt;
Clare takes her seat - contrasts Peter's seated position by leaning forward - shoulders down - hands on legs - very submissive.&lt;br&gt;
P:So, how are you doing Clare?&lt;br&gt;
Full eye contact now from Peter&lt;br&gt;
C:Fine&lt;br&gt;
looking at the floor&lt;br&gt;
P:That's good. Are you following the diet that you were given?&lt;br&gt;
Clare still looking at the floor&lt;br&gt;
C:Just about doctor&lt;br&gt;
Peter writes in his file&lt;br&gt;
P:Call me Peter please Clare (total power)Are you exercising as much.&lt;br&gt;
C: i have been trying to cut down.&lt;br&gt;
Still looking at the floor&lt;br&gt;
P: Are you exercising as much&lt;br&gt;
C: Yes, but...&lt;br&gt;
Eyes filling up with water already - very&lt;br&gt;
Peter writes again on his pad&lt;br&gt;
Camera flicks to the file - massive cock has been drawn.&lt;br&gt;
P: and how much do you weigh now Clare?&lt;br&gt;
Barrage of questions, Paxman-esque&lt;br&gt;
C: I don't know doctor.&lt;br&gt;
Looks frantic at the idea of weight. Briefly raises her head.&lt;br&gt;
Peter spins round and gets some scales from under the desk.&lt;br&gt;
P:Hop on Clare&lt;br&gt;
Clare gets up very nervously looking at Peter to show that she does not want to go through with it.&lt;br&gt;
P: Hop on Clare!&lt;br&gt;
Louder tone - more of an order.&lt;br&gt;
C: Gets on, not looking at the scales. One tear sdrips down - emotional wreck&lt;br&gt;
P: Oh that's much better - you really have been eating haven't you.&lt;br&gt;
Clare looks down in amazement to see the digits reading 11 stone 11 pounds.&lt;br&gt;
Have a look in the mirror. Peter rips the sheet off a mirror - a distoring mirror - making her appear very fat faces the distraught Clare.&lt;br&gt;
C: it...it...can't be&lt;br&gt;
P: I think you have gone too much the other way now Clare. you need to calm down on the burgwers - go for a few more runs.&lt;br&gt;
C: but i .. but i&lt;br&gt;
P: come along now Clare - if you keep going i will have to send you to a fat camp&lt;br&gt;
Clare in absolute disbelief - completely tormented by the idea of being fat.&lt;br&gt;
C: but..but&lt;br&gt;
P: But what?&lt;br&gt;
Said in short aggressive tone.&lt;br&gt;
C: i have hardly been eating&lt;br&gt;
Almost broken&lt;br&gt;
P: Of course not Clare and you still want the tax payer to pay for your treatment i suppose.&lt;br&gt;
C: No but i can't be... i can't be&lt;br&gt;
Now fully crying.&lt;br&gt;
 Right.. i have had enough of this Clare... i will put this in the nicest possible way. FUCK OFF YOU FAT BITCH AND STOP WASTING MY FUCKING VALUABLE TIME.&lt;br&gt;
Clare runs out sobbing, her last bit of confidence evaporated forever.&lt;br&gt;
Peter rocks back on his chair staring straight ahead into the camera-a cheeky wry grin comes across his face. He doesn't give a toss. He bloody loves it.
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://judasisback.blog.co.uk/2005/12/20/my_forever_delayed_second_blog~402959/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:judasisback.blog.co.uk,2005-12-13:/2005/12/13/my_virgin_blog~383433/</id><title>My virgin blog</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://judasisback.blog.co.uk/2005/12/13/my_virgin_blog~383433/"/><author><name>SkinnersSkidmark</name></author><published>2005-12-13T16:03:42+01:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T18:46:42+01:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;What would Michael Owen write about in his first blog?&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;This is the question that initially springs to mind.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Politics, Sport and Religion, there really is a plethora of topics to talk about. &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Should it be funny? Preferably i think.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;I could whine about things that are annoying me but i don't really see the point. I could make it fun for people to read. However, i have to admit i don't really care. So maybe it comes down to what the point in blogging is. If i was to have a guess i would suggest that people are trying to ................................................................................................................................&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;I have no need to finsh this sentence as i have decided my blog will be about writing a sketch show. &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;There are so many bad comedies on TV - Green Green Grass being particularly appalling. There are numerous others, i won't even mention the stuff ITV claims is comedy. &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;I like to think of myself as relatively amusing - but i could also probably be labeled a dick. &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Sketch 1.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Simon Sicko is driving his car along a busy motorway. (Car is a small red one)&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Camera follows him for about five seconds - including a close up of his face - crazy eyes.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Goes to the side on view - Simon passes an accident (car upside down on grass) Double take at the accident before slamming on the breaks as he passes the - three police cars in a row parked on the hard shoulder. Makes a few grunts as he opens the door eagerly.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;As he gets out he takes a deep breath (to hide his excitement)&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Wonders over to where a group of policemen are stood (directly in the way of his route to the accident scene). &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;One young officer with ginger hair spots him - breaks off from the group and stops him. Triggers a look of annoyance from Simon.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Simon addresses the police officer, tries to be authoritative. &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;"What happened here then officer"&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;PC: A nasty little accident caused by punctured tyre it seems.&lt;br&gt;
Simon knowingly knods.&lt;br&gt;
SI: Anyone injured officer (said trying to control the glee)&lt;br&gt;
PC: A whole family actually. They have been taken away in an ambulance. Can i ask who you are?&lt;br&gt;
SI: (completely disregarding the questions). Is it a real mess in their officer.&lt;br&gt;
PC: Bit of blood, glass everywhere. The usual car accident scene&gt;&lt;br&gt;
Si: (snorts with glee)&lt;br&gt;
PC: Frown on the officer's face&lt;br&gt;
Si: Any dead officer.&lt;br&gt;
PC: No (said sharply - appears to be getting more and more annoyed with the questions - glances at a big officer form the group, who reads the signal and turns to walk over.)&lt;br&gt;
Si: (as if realising that the questioning is about to come to an end) Any kiddies hurt officers, any limbs left in their.&lt;br&gt;
PC: Right i think you have seen plenty.&lt;br&gt;
Simon makes a break to have a closer inspection but the officer walking over intercepts him and he is lead away still asking filthy questions "were they in pain officer"&lt;br&gt;
Bundled in back into his car and told he would be arrested if he continued.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;The End.
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://judasisback.blog.co.uk/2005/12/13/my_virgin_blog~383433/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry></feed>
