After writing down every number worth keeping from my old phone I couldn't believe how much 'tards, wanks and fannies I've met and ended up with their numbers. From people asking about the 'Terror (saved under 'name Onion') or just random people up town. Months or years after your memory such people fades, you can keep their 11 digits for as long as you like. Left me thinking about how many people I've known or met that I have just become 11 numbers to, and who the next people will be. Crazy.
It was sad relieving my ol' phone of its duties. So many people loved or hated my 'sandwich' / 'brick' / 'what the fuck is that'; and that's probably the only reason it's been in use for so long. In honour of so many good times a few drinks are on the menu for it tonight. Definitely the end of the non-predictive text era!
I've also noticed that as the years creep on it appears that being a slut is all the rage; even gradually more acceptable. From people doing anything to get a kiss, hummer or 'shag'; to others willing to lower - even forget - their standards just so they have someone to cling on to, if only for one night. The other day a friend even declared to me "I'm such a slut lol", which was probably the blast of realisation that confirmed he though his piers accepted and endorsed such slutty behaviour.
I say this with no ego but I sometimes wish that there were much more guys with more traditional views and values regarding the opposite sex. It fairly pisses myself and Scott off when we talk or hear about people being arses to ladies, but we've came to the joint conclusion that in a dog-eat-dog set up the phrase 'nice guys finish last' is definitely the most fitting. Oh, and don't pat yourself on the back – you might break your spine.
22 October, 2005
20 October, 2005
Diet Spite.
Talk about seeing red - and going green - someone not a million miles away from this keyboard feels like his clothes are about to rip and a green giant will smash his house up. In an attempt to save my Hyde I’m going to make a list about all the things that are pissing me off just now.
Buses: if I didn't have to save up for moving out of the house I’d spend every penny I get on driving lessons and a car. Fat people - and I realise as my metabolism grinds to a halt I’m not getting any slimmer - are the pits of the bus network. I saw a massive two-seater jabba demolish 2 cakes, 3 packets of walkers and a bottle of Iron Brew on a 20-minute journey, as if it didn't matter that she was a diabetic time bomb or she didn't care about wasting an extra bus seat for the rest of her life. I was both disgusted and amazed by her carefree attitude, i also felt bad staring without having paid for a ticket.
Town During The Day: another place where people royally piss me off. 3,000 pensioners leisurely trudge around at 3,000th of a Mile Per Day, walking into everyone - and everything - whilst they oaf around with 2 items of shopping. It's like a zombie film, but with 'living' and more ugly zombies. Also, parents who let their little shits run around in amongst 3,000 potential baby snatchers. Twice today I felt like booting a kid through a shop window because it ran in front of me; do everyone a favour mate, keep your kid on a leash.
9 AM Lectures: self-explanatory. After having had early starts for two years you'd think the Uni would cut us junior honours folk some slack and guess what? I’ve made less than 50% of them. Attendance is so shabby and the Lecturer cant' even be arsed teaching anything interesting so it's more fascinating watching everyone else fall back to sleep as the hour progresses.
Alcohol: but only in blinding volumes. This weekend was the cream on the cake with some of the 'best' highlights to remember in town. Spent an obscene amount of cash and managed to completely mongle my back falling down some stairs; punch a cash machine and wreck my right knuckles; acquire two slaps - although that was more someone else being drunk - and probably offend a bakers dozen people whilst flashing my buns. To be fair my drunken state wasn't the only factor for such rough-edged behaviour; but it did help.
Spamming: of all sorts. "I'm a nympho in your local area and my hubby is away all week" Sent to my mobile. WTFM8!?!? Not to mention the 10 e-mails i get a week about getting 'bigger, natural breasts', or natural hair removal and hormone reduction (as if i need it those) and so forth. I'm starting to think some shit-cock is singing me up for all this crap.
Beggars: give you money? HAH! They should be re-named comedians. Who in their right mind gives money / food / anything to a guy who can afford varying luxuries from a guitar to Nike shoes? Such items OBVIOUSLY show that you've not got much money. If they had an ounce of wit about them they'd learn to something like the M&S Juggler guy did. He made a killing every day and people didn't hate him with every bone in their body.
The solution: went in to town and spent heaps of money on shit I don't need - good way to save up for a flat you spazz. Some new shoes (what a girly thing to do), the new Tiger Woods game and a few deesc CDs. I'm off to play Tiger non stop 'til my fingers fall off. Over and out.
Buses: if I didn't have to save up for moving out of the house I’d spend every penny I get on driving lessons and a car. Fat people - and I realise as my metabolism grinds to a halt I’m not getting any slimmer - are the pits of the bus network. I saw a massive two-seater jabba demolish 2 cakes, 3 packets of walkers and a bottle of Iron Brew on a 20-minute journey, as if it didn't matter that she was a diabetic time bomb or she didn't care about wasting an extra bus seat for the rest of her life. I was both disgusted and amazed by her carefree attitude, i also felt bad staring without having paid for a ticket.
Town During The Day: another place where people royally piss me off. 3,000 pensioners leisurely trudge around at 3,000th of a Mile Per Day, walking into everyone - and everything - whilst they oaf around with 2 items of shopping. It's like a zombie film, but with 'living' and more ugly zombies. Also, parents who let their little shits run around in amongst 3,000 potential baby snatchers. Twice today I felt like booting a kid through a shop window because it ran in front of me; do everyone a favour mate, keep your kid on a leash.
9 AM Lectures: self-explanatory. After having had early starts for two years you'd think the Uni would cut us junior honours folk some slack and guess what? I’ve made less than 50% of them. Attendance is so shabby and the Lecturer cant' even be arsed teaching anything interesting so it's more fascinating watching everyone else fall back to sleep as the hour progresses.
Alcohol: but only in blinding volumes. This weekend was the cream on the cake with some of the 'best' highlights to remember in town. Spent an obscene amount of cash and managed to completely mongle my back falling down some stairs; punch a cash machine and wreck my right knuckles; acquire two slaps - although that was more someone else being drunk - and probably offend a bakers dozen people whilst flashing my buns. To be fair my drunken state wasn't the only factor for such rough-edged behaviour; but it did help.
Spamming: of all sorts. "I'm a nympho in your local area and my hubby is away all week" Sent to my mobile. WTFM8!?!? Not to mention the 10 e-mails i get a week about getting 'bigger, natural breasts', or natural hair removal and hormone reduction (as if i need it those) and so forth. I'm starting to think some shit-cock is singing me up for all this crap.
Beggars: give you money? HAH! They should be re-named comedians. Who in their right mind gives money / food / anything to a guy who can afford varying luxuries from a guitar to Nike shoes? Such items OBVIOUSLY show that you've not got much money. If they had an ounce of wit about them they'd learn to something like the M&S Juggler guy did. He made a killing every day and people didn't hate him with every bone in their body.
The solution: went in to town and spent heaps of money on shit I don't need - good way to save up for a flat you spazz. Some new shoes (what a girly thing to do), the new Tiger Woods game and a few deesc CDs. I'm off to play Tiger non stop 'til my fingers fall off. Over and out.
09 October, 2005
Your head in the clouds.
After having just finished the best tin of mushroom soup I’ve ever made I realised it was down to one of my Grandas' many little tricks; all milk, no water. Then it dawned on me how much of 'my' tricks, values and knowledge that I possess were passed on from Jimmy Mitchell. This has been a weird week, between the identically bald-headed man on the bus in front of me a few days ago to the guy I served with the identical wine-red fleece, it's almost as if it's reassurance that he's still with us in one way or another. I bet the rest of my family all see things like this but don't talk about it in fear of upsetting each other.
It's amazing how someone other than a parent can have so much influence on a child, it's also amazing how someone can be missed so much. The picnics, the holidays, the suppertimes, the swimming, the todys, the haircuts and Betsie. Even little things like snoring, vocabulary, hankies and jam mean so much. I'd sell my soul to re-live some of the good times although that's a stupid thing to say when all the memories are good times.
I guess it's hard to let go of any family member, but it's even harder when you see his house every time you step outside, and when so many photos / items are just lying around the house available for a sneaky peak. It's impossible to be sad after so many years when you know he only wants us to be happy. I am happy, I’m going to make him happy, and proud.
It's amazing how someone other than a parent can have so much influence on a child, it's also amazing how someone can be missed so much. The picnics, the holidays, the suppertimes, the swimming, the todys, the haircuts and Betsie. Even little things like snoring, vocabulary, hankies and jam mean so much. I'd sell my soul to re-live some of the good times although that's a stupid thing to say when all the memories are good times.
I guess it's hard to let go of any family member, but it's even harder when you see his house every time you step outside, and when so many photos / items are just lying around the house available for a sneaky peak. It's impossible to be sad after so many years when you know he only wants us to be happy. I am happy, I’m going to make him happy, and proud.
08 October, 2005
Intoxication Station
A tower of shrapnel in front of me shows that I’m 25 hard notes down, without the kindness of Gareth I’d be at least 30. The crab sticks, onion and garlic dip, and spanking new shirt indicate tonight was part of an elaborate losing streak. Not necessarily meant for me but no matter what I do it seems like some nights are just destined to fail.
As these seafood sticks crumble in my hands I wonder what the point in tonight was; getting with the girl who has a long-term boyfriend, good one. Wanting to kill my - drug-induced - manager in the priory again, better one. Still being drunk enough to not be hung over tomorrow, even better one. It seems like every (work) night out I’ve ever been on, someone somewhere is holding a replica voodoo doll. Reluctant to let me go they let the doll have it, and I’m always the one on the receiving end. Mope. Mope Mope.
Alas, I’m having some old skool CCG with my good friend tomorrow night. Watching the Scotland - Bulgaria match will undoubtedly be the highlight of my day and whilst I drown in the bottom of a pint glass, undoubtedly in exodus, I’ll be thinking about the dozens of people who got the balance right. Bastards.
As these seafood sticks crumble in my hands I wonder what the point in tonight was; getting with the girl who has a long-term boyfriend, good one. Wanting to kill my - drug-induced - manager in the priory again, better one. Still being drunk enough to not be hung over tomorrow, even better one. It seems like every (work) night out I’ve ever been on, someone somewhere is holding a replica voodoo doll. Reluctant to let me go they let the doll have it, and I’m always the one on the receiving end. Mope. Mope Mope.
Alas, I’m having some old skool CCG with my good friend tomorrow night. Watching the Scotland - Bulgaria match will undoubtedly be the highlight of my day and whilst I drown in the bottom of a pint glass, undoubtedly in exodus, I’ll be thinking about the dozens of people who got the balance right. Bastards.
04 October, 2005
From here on in.
"Shurrup Stoopid"
That's the way to do it; Jack Bauer - obviously the greatest man ever to be shown on television - said it best when he kicked the gun out-with the reach of a junkie and laid the smackdown on bullet wounds, trying to pick up some threads on Ramon Salazar. Sometimes I wish I was as ruthless and to-the-point as Jack is, but then again, if we were all more like the people we admire from the realms of fiction, things would inevitably be just as boring as the present.
In the non-ficticious world it's not every day someone has a genuine epiphany, but it just happened to be one of those days. A massive reality check in the cunning disguise of an essay plan landed in my lap. Galbreath reminded us that not only does this essay count as part of our final Grade for the MA course that we'll have spent four years on by the time it's completed, but it can actually be the foundations for a career in the subject and a chance to put something new into the world of academics.
Sounds a little far-fetched? Probably, but if some attention was paid to the cards we're dealt in this lifetime, there's no reason why anyone shouldn't be able to rock the world, or at least do something good with their hand. It kills me to see good friends from the past wasting their youth because they played their bad cards or folded too early. I guess we'll just put their decisions down to human nature.
Back to the 'Chase', it's pretty obvious what my calling is; organised crime and the drugs trade in Latin America. It was a gut reaction to shout it out. Perhaps it was because I’d just watched season 3 the day before, or because I was fanatical about the drugs essay I wrote in first year, maybe even both, but I’m sure this is what it's going to be for at least the next few years. What could be more interesting than studying gangs like the Salazars?
Exactly.
As for the last entry, it's increasingly obvious that it's impossible to 'have your cake and eat it'. Funny how a saying so passé that it should be banned is as true today as it was when our grandparents were saying it, but as the next one goes, 'the old ones are the best' and it's so true.
That's the way to do it; Jack Bauer - obviously the greatest man ever to be shown on television - said it best when he kicked the gun out-with the reach of a junkie and laid the smackdown on bullet wounds, trying to pick up some threads on Ramon Salazar. Sometimes I wish I was as ruthless and to-the-point as Jack is, but then again, if we were all more like the people we admire from the realms of fiction, things would inevitably be just as boring as the present.
In the non-ficticious world it's not every day someone has a genuine epiphany, but it just happened to be one of those days. A massive reality check in the cunning disguise of an essay plan landed in my lap. Galbreath reminded us that not only does this essay count as part of our final Grade for the MA course that we'll have spent four years on by the time it's completed, but it can actually be the foundations for a career in the subject and a chance to put something new into the world of academics.
Sounds a little far-fetched? Probably, but if some attention was paid to the cards we're dealt in this lifetime, there's no reason why anyone shouldn't be able to rock the world, or at least do something good with their hand. It kills me to see good friends from the past wasting their youth because they played their bad cards or folded too early. I guess we'll just put their decisions down to human nature.
Back to the 'Chase', it's pretty obvious what my calling is; organised crime and the drugs trade in Latin America. It was a gut reaction to shout it out. Perhaps it was because I’d just watched season 3 the day before, or because I was fanatical about the drugs essay I wrote in first year, maybe even both, but I’m sure this is what it's going to be for at least the next few years. What could be more interesting than studying gangs like the Salazars?
Exactly.
As for the last entry, it's increasingly obvious that it's impossible to 'have your cake and eat it'. Funny how a saying so passé that it should be banned is as true today as it was when our grandparents were saying it, but as the next one goes, 'the old ones are the best' and it's so true.
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