to be sure

I'm a leetle bit tired....but I aint sleepy. and i refuse to go to bed before my folks anyways. That being where I am right now. At the kilgour estate....where I had...a bath. And felt like a new man for it, work being particularly rough and tough today. but hey, you just gotta sonic and knuckel down and do it. And then forget it, only to be forcefully reminded at a later date of rape.

anyhoo, I've been quite the socialite as of late. Went out monday to see king leah, where she yelled at me for not attending her birthday shindig. made some new accqauintences whos names do not spring to mind on account of being male. I did, however meet...dun dun dun....a foxy red hair irish bird, who i hit it off with slightly. we had good banter, or as the irish say "crack" but she pulled the old I've got to go back to ireland in the morn.

On tuesday worked but then went out to the highly coveted writers night ooot!!! was a bit tired and manky but rejuvinated myself with the power of postive thinking and drinking. Intresting things happened and I eventually declared "after party at bobs!" upon arriving at the bohemeian hobos abode I promplty fell asleep and left them to it. maybe an orgy happened, maybe it didn't. As the Irish would say "sel la vee"

wed worked tough shift. Thursday, struggled to awake and had another encounter with those crazy things called friends. we went to a noodle bar and I had ramen. BELEIVE IT. Or as the irish pronounce it "Dattebayo!" saw a film-hitman and. it was. the worst. film ever.

xmas is approching like a surely spainiard and i'm just gonna roll with it and hope theres no lezzing out. Or as the irish say "le petite morte"

thought of the day-irish folk rock and can turn the phrase

Bob the accademic

If I was a strong willed focused individual i could have finished all my essay work today. obviously I'm not, but hey done about 2000 words worth of pretty reasonable stuff. Plus check out this friggen amazing paragraph detailing one of the problems of psychoanalysis

"The danger of a Freudian psychoanalysis of a text is, due to its unspecific nature, that it can be applied indiscriminately. To put it Bluntly, Penis and phallic imagery start to appear everywhere. In Harry Potter, a wizard’s power comes from their wand (which ironically they receive around about the age puberty starts) and it is a symbol of their adulthood. If they lose the wand then they become impotent. It is used to battle with and to create things from. Hell there is even a line in book 3 which reads “Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of his wand” Perceiving the wand as penis is a bit of a ridiculous notion, especially considering female witches use them as well."

I'm actually regretting handing this essay in late cause I reckon its prize winning stuff we got here

New years resolutions

chances are I'll be working all around new years. Hence I made my resolutions now and they shall take immediate effect

1. No more giving the eye. what started as a joke has become a terrible flase thing that has taken over me. But not really

2. Less sauce. unless back home of course. or while in the warmth of my own company

3.Less arrogance in a number of fields. But not videogaming

4.better forward planning. I've yet to hand an essay in on time

5. Keep things tider

6. Less obessing over manlyness

7. Learn how to say no

bad poetry? Oh noetry!

I found this when looking through my computer. written when things were kinda bad. its a bit shit and emo but hey-parts of it rhyme!


All you know is Procrastination
A genocide of time,
Your greatest crime
None do it better than you

You count all your pennies, bag them up
Cut out coupons and stamps
By the light of street lamps
Just to survive

But you keep hoping and trying
Waiting for better days
To come your way
Knowing they won’t

You lie on your bed
Angels on your side
Demons in your head
And neither can move you, cause inside your dead

And behind your shield of drink,
Armour of apathy
You grow older and colder, rotting away
Staring at the crack on the ceiling
A heart slow beating, growing numb

And he sits there alone
Way up on his throne
Looking down with a frown
At all the shit on the ground
Too proud to announce you got it all wrong

That day is coming fast
Your body laid out for all to see
In a coffin of glass
A martyr to one

And then you’ll be judged
Found guilty and wanting
By a court full of scare crows
The rooks cawing your name

................uh?

in the past 4 days I've had about 10 hours sleep (generous guess)

I hate insomnia

blowing off steam and shooting the breeze...

...Is bang on what I needed and what I did. Got a little bit tired and emmotional and went off on many angry rants. probably looked a tad foolish but feel a whole lot better for it. the weekend did its usual thing of raping me in the (ass)soul but, scarily I've pretty much gotten used to it.
AND HEY, new KP. less hours more smiles. and the frown is turned upside down.

gonna try and get home for friday. see old friends and tell them new exciting tales of shame and amusement-the two being pretty interchangeable in my life.

reckon I'll cut back in the sauce (GASP). I'd prob be £200 up if i hadn't spent any mula on hooch last month. And to be honest, sweet lady you just don't taste the same, nor make me feel much different. At the risk of a VAST man compramise, I'm even considering going on a detox of sorts. the defiled temple that is my body has been sending out PLENTY of signals to show I aint been maintaining it well.

Need to get the shit sorted out (essays, flat, social stuff etc). its not like theres all that much to wade through, but end of the day, no one likes to go into a big steamy pile of self made sewage.

thought of the day-a mans pillow is his piece of mind-hence the insomnia