Monday 28 July 2008

i'm melting. MELTINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

the heat has sapped everything from me. all my fluids are gone. and to a man of my inflated reputayion fluids are damned important. how else am i going to cry in the shower. doing a 14 hour shift yesterday didn;t help much either. its a bit dis-heartening when you take out your phone after leaing it for the whole day in the staff cuboard and it reads no new messages.

thought of the day-its not enough to have my cake and eat it. i have to try and return it to the shops to get my money back as well. damn you robert!

Friday 25 July 2008

A profound sense of humility

Has me in its grip. unfortunatly its none too gentle in its handling of the Kilgour account and i suspect that it will soon grow weary and toss me painfully aside. fads like that nevere last anyways, specially when for some inexplicable reason people are actually jealous of you and want to bear your child.

Or something like that, but very different and a bit more coherent

So still working a lot, now sleeping less-trying to drink less too so mabey it'll balance out on the scales of my skin that wears my sins. maybe i should get a tatoo with a catchy slogan of my own design on it. none spring clean to mind though

I'd do something special and amazing today probably but i'm just too damn tired. bet theres a shit load of tortured artists/factory workers that sit on the couch each night and think much the same. and THEY have dental

was dead arty and alternative the other day, watched the science of sleep and eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. read the right books and see the right films and you'll apparently become a better person, with broader horizons and an understanding of yourself and others. hell i even drew a big ass picture with crayons and baked bread. gotta distract yourself.

thought of the day-two tired to think tank

Wednesday 23 July 2008

behold my adultness

work work work work work work work work work work work. And you know what, it seems 13 hour shifts don't quite cut the deejong mustard anymore, its gonna go up to almost 14. Still i have a plan to be coldly effecient and ruthlessly polite in my dealings with managment from now on. after all, clearly they would prefer us to be one big happy family where we talk about ourselves, but lets see how they cope with a mechanical black sheep in their midsts.

After many others have exclaimed! concern about all the wierd things that are wrong with my body, i myself am finally becoming worried about my health. this has been brought on by loss of sleep due to the various aches and pains going on for reasons both well and unknown. i might have to do the unthinkable and actually try and work out how to use this so called health system we got going on here. apparently i'm entitled to it for paying taxes (which i will claim back via my studentness bahahah)

me and friends saw donkey punch. better than i was expecting but then there was also more nudity than i was expecting. no way shall it measure up to BATMAN on friday. here is an extract of our post film banter.

"buy me a drink or i'll donkey punch ya!"
"donkey punched shrek"
"if you had to do a pokemon, which would it be"
"I'd do ditto, because it could be anyone"
"wouldn't it just be you, and wouldn't its face be all messed up?"
"ah, but i'd do it from behind"
"and then donkey punch it!"
"I'd do snorlax, more cushion for the pushin"
"but it would keep falling asleep on you"
"so you donkey punch it!"
"but then it hyper punches you back in some kinda weird pokemon S&Mness"

and then we all drank a lot.


thought of the day-you've simply not lived until you've sat on a toilet seat constructed entirely from bog roll

Wednesday 16 July 2008

Clearly....

The iranian missle program was secretly funded by america in order to coerce the french out of their oil development technology contract with iran, with the double bonus of justifying an increased military presense in israel.

watching the news and reading the papers does strange things to a man.

Monday 14 July 2008

Hooch isn't THAT crazy

I read this somewhere once, and I reckon others could benefit from reading it here

when your young you don't care what the world thinks of you. then you grow up and start to worry a bit what it thinks. finally you realise that in fact, it just doesn't think about you.

that sounds pretty naff actually. it was probably more eloquently written originally, and my bastardisation has watered it down like they water down the vodka at the student union.

Back at work. in some ways its a relief, and I pity all you people that have time on your hands and thoughts on your mind and neiter will let lie. work is an anchor to reality, and i drift enough as it is anyways. unfortunatly, though i thought i would feel better about my job after taking a breakm from it, it's still the same old pish day in and out. I suspect new employment is on the horizon, in an ideal world something in a bookshop or gaming retail outlet.

Having said that...all of you need bloody jobs. and not pishy 12 hour a week ones. It'll give less time to brood on things. and what old pappa smurf/karl marx seemed to have neglected in his manly festo is that as well as being aleinated from the good stuff, your also insulated from the crap stuff. all you gotta do is trade in your dreams, and only only one that has stuck out as of late is the one where i was a border immigration control officer of narnia.

speaking of reality anchors, another good one is family. went up for the annual kilgour house party and am mighty glad i did, despite the 7.30 rise for work in the morn. saw some old friends and shot the shit with snipers on the roof. one thing i really like about going home is (don;t laugh) the smell. by no means is it the most pleasant of smells, but hot damn there aint nothing more real than driving past a farm and breathing in the fertile fertiliser.

thought of the day-sometimes it seems that all we do is spend all our lives paraphrasing

Tuesday 8 July 2008

spread so thin i just aint there

lately i've been havin these wierd chrisis of reality moments. where everything becomes so bloody thin and streched to the point where they, and me, just aren't there. now this normally wouldn''t be much of a problem, what with me not being the kinda guy to impact the world much, but what pisses me off is the way it is now making me feel physically sick. i actually need to stop whatever it is i'm doing until it passes. also, it never used to happen unless i was on my own, but now that small immunity has worn off.

maybe its just down to FINALLY finishing american psycho. forcing my way through all the boob chopping and muff aciding was worth it for those moments of worrying clarity that kept cropping up.

i'd like to frame her narrative!

THE TALE

The three women wondered across the barren deserted desert, drinking bottles of oasis to hydrate their wilting skin. The wind blew hard, causing the yellow sea to swirl and ripple and foam and lash about them. As they progressed one of the women accidentally kicked something that jutted out the sand. She bent down to examine it and picked it up. Typically it was a lamp

She called her friends over and they gathered around it.
“It’s a lamp”
“Perhaps it’s magic. Try rubbing it”

The woman tried, rubbing hard with callous hands caused by a lifetime of sacrifice to the domestic goddess. The lamp winced

“You are doing it wrong, let me try”

Her friend wetted her fingers on her lips and stroked the lamps tip, caressed its underside using both her hands. This time the lamp shuddered slightly. But nothing emerged from its wick.

“I have an idea”

The final woman stuck the wick in her mouth and rolled her tongue about it in smooth circular motions. This proved to be too much and the genie shot out. The woman swallowed

“Shit, sorry force of habit”

THE END


John deflated the condom. Christ, short stories written on rubbers, what will they think of next? He carefully pinched the tip where THE END was written and slid the ring that said THE TALE down. To the disappointment of his girlfriend, it was quite a short story.

Had me a spit roast

with my gran no less. plus plenty of other old folk. there are even pictures kicking about somewhere. to be honest it was like something out of astrix, with a whole pig turning on a spit and people feasting around. this was all down to it being my grans 70th, which we flew down to england for.

now family do's for me are a bit of a mixed bag. on the one hand its nice to see them all and score some free grub and booze. on the other its a bit weird and awkward to be groped by old women that are probably related to you in some distant way, with my mum dragging me up and saying with a flushed face "don't i grow them well!"

And theres always THE QUESTION. Now i don't really dread THE QUESTION much, but repeating the same old answer to THE QUESTION can get a bit tedious and depressing. "got yourself a girlfriend yet robert?" Never been able to answer yes. stock replies include "her name is alice and she';s just left primary school" and "actually, i'm still trying to find the courage to come out the closet"
The men tend to assume that i'm playing the field (which, despite rumours circulated by myself, remains largely untrue) and make disturbing comments about their own mis/wellspent youth. The women are much worst, mentioning young ladies they know, the fact that my cousin of 12 has a girlfriend and alluring to the notion that if only they were a little bit younger...

in other news i have lost me phone. New number can be found on writers website or on msn. thats what i get for taking it out on the aircraft and exclaiming "look at me! I'm playing snake...ON A PLANE!" Hell, lets put the number online. you can't justifiably be afraid of peodophillia when your 20 anyway (unless its contagious!) 07503 443 261

A new craze is gripping the nation (courtesy of my brother) hitting your friends and co-workers in the back of the head whilst exclaiming "donkey punch!" lets see if it catches on or not.

thought of the day-none of the communists i know actually have jobs

Friday 4 July 2008

a Cake in the grass


A testament to my boredom. also, see it WASN'T a lie, and EVERYBODY won the game.

wikipedia...


has neither article nor definition of pretentious. now there must be something that someone can do with that bit of info. not me though


also...CONTRAVERSIAL


taking the epithany...

...from someone else and making it out to be my own. and here it is. We all seem to have a tendancy to treat other people as films. aye ee, we tend to catagorize them into groups/genres, compare them to others, and quite often judge them before we see them. the main big bad, however, is our tendancy to assume we know what happens next. keep being told in english that there are only *insert smallish number" real plots that exist, so by extension there are only a set number of different people that exist. look at all the stereotypes that exist, jock, nerd, beareded pedophile ect. and we've all been in the cinema and just knew that that guy would die and those two would hook up and that it was old man winters that was haunting the theme park. little side not, the one episode of scooby doo that really sticks out in my mind is the one where they show the ghost AND the guy who was the ghost at the same time. the excuse? a previously unmentioned twin brother. i felt quite cheated myself.

so yeah, we act like we know what other people will do, all their little plot twists and quirks. and you know, quite often we're right. but sometimes we're wrong. i myself like to mix up social convention every now and then with statements like "forget brazillian, shave it into the shape of a helipad, now THATS a landing strip" though in action i tend to be fairly generic, so i;m not that exciting.

ummmm... kinda lost train of thought. BUT, in summary people aren't films, people are peopele. and if you ever get bored with them, try listening to the directors commentary (aka what really is going on in their mind)

thought of the day-take 3.15 steps forward and pi steps back

Thursday 3 July 2008

when you got a lot of knifes and forks you gotta cut something

drink when you're happy and partying. drink when you're upset and pissed off. drink with friends, drink with family, drink on your own. most chronically of all, drink because you got nothing better to do. I've spent half my holiday drinking, and the other half hungover. now i'm not being melodramatic and saying i'm an alkey, cause i know a few and their aint no way i could or would want to compete with that, but sitting here feeling crap makes me wonder about the pointlessness of it. i've never been good at moderation, in all things. it goes from one extreme to the other. i'm either unemplyed and poor, or working ridiculous shifts and splashing the cash out for all.

Still in one of those dark lame emo moods that annoy me due to the mismatched ratio between the problem and how i feel about it. the big ones i just breeze past and the small naff ones stay with me for years. little limpits on my bobbing subconcious.

on the plus i cheered up a charity worker by convincing her to rap her spiel to me. yo yo, i work to support those with mental disabillities, givin dem utilities to show dem all its not a futility. rollin in the shity city of glasgow how bout some money bro.

not that i'm trivialising the issue of course. i only do that with my own problems. she then told me about how her own friend had commited suicide recently, and again i could feel my own eyes watering up over the story. Feelings 1 Machismo 0. The only way to even the score is to get jiggy with her now, but part of the whole moody bob thing is shunning physical contact, so i shall have to bide my time.

i said no last week, so ha....and i'm also a fanny. Need to curb the ambigious statements. theres no integrity in hoping a vague remark will be interpreted to your own advantage.

thought of the day-the 2nd hardest and best thing to do is say whats on your mind. the 1st is my dong

Wednesday 2 July 2008

Lets think carefully of something impulsive to do!

Well, as expected nothing awesome has come of the holiday so far. in fact, being the subtle self harmer that i am, i even agreed to come back to work a day earlier. still there have been moments of not lameness, which i shall now regail you with.

First up was dead mans jacket night, where assorted people wore cheapo suit tops bought from the salvation army, for the bargin price of 4.50. hell there was even a free pen inside the pocket of mine. and in ross's there was a antique WW2 condom bearing the legend "You can't beat the axis if you get VD!" except i made that part up.

and pretty much since then its just been extreme liver abuse. and yes, my kidneys do feel sore again, but until i pass blood i'll not pass up on hooch. been in one of my moods as of late anyhoo's, with many cynical musings. women do indeed prefer bastards, but thats fine as i'm slowly (or quite quickly, if you ask the right people the very wrong sort of questions) becoming one.

Had a run in with a bunch of happy go lucky (AKA-Ones that look a bit stabby) celtic fans. just to get my own standing point staight, i think all that malakey is just an excuse to hate each other. it brings people together and its a damn sight easier and hard wearing than love. anyhoo, theres me, showing of my exargerated ignorance by going. "so who exactly ARE the people?" and "whats this tim fellow all about?" whilst my freind tries to drag me away. best part was when i attempted to chat up one of their birds for a laugh. like i said, me bastardo

Me and my good friend ross, after some suspect "man talk" decided that we are both due a hats off to ya, and should be circumciscion buddies. I took the conversation to new found depths (attended by two other guys so it CAN'T have been gay) when i said we should wear whats not there as matching rings, which when we unite then and say the magic words, we turn into elton john. quite possibly we won't actually do this though

In other lame news it seems i've become a bloody adult. I fit most the criteria-have a place of my own, finance myself, given up on a lot of dreams ect.guess 20 is about the right age to do so, but (and not wanting to sound arrogant) i don't reckon many of my freinds have made the transition yet. christ i even watch the news a read the paper now-though given i do a journalism course, that should have been a lot sooner coming. i even feel crushing responsibillity for my actions. how the hell am i meant to compete with people that do what they want?

I miss you and it aint even been that long. but as i keep realising you're hardier than you seem and i've been using my manly facade too long to do anything else than accept things and pretend i don't mind. OOOOOH FEELINGS! didn't see that coming, didcha!

thought of the day-you should all know by now that i secretly suspect the very worst of each and everyone of you, including and indeed especially myself.