Scene shifts to a tavern, within the city centre
Narrator Look now all, upon this place of ill repute. Shady dealings are dealt here, with cards and with lives. The beer flows through the night and past the day, here where men pass their present and share their troubled pasts. Welcome to The Split.
Gordo Drinks to this table serving girl, so I might drink to your beauty. It is a miracle indeed that a rose like you can bloom in such a dismal place.
Narrator The man with all the pretty words is Gordo, known throughout for his charm and quick wit. A smile is ready on his lips and lady fortune seems to smile back, along with countless other ladies.
Beck Slow down my friend. Let us not fug our heads whilst we lose our money in foolish bets. An admirable poker face you have, but does no good when you hold your hand backwards.
Narrator His closest and oldest friend, Beck and Gordo are quite the double act. What Beck says about a poker face is true, for he knows of the deep wrestles rage that hides within that easy smile
Gordo Not to worry my boon companion, five hearts I have, and with that I shall win back all.
The other players at the table fold. Beck slaps his head in vexation
Gordo Well, what say you Beck. Are you in, or mere chickin?
Beck Fool! We play for the same cause and with the same money, most of which is mine. Half of which my fathers.
Gordo Pah, the further we can get from fathers the better.
The serving girl returns and smiles at Gordo
Girl There you are my lord
Gordo Thank you, my lady. Rest assured, though you serve me this drink, I would serve you forever
The girl smiles and blushes before walking away, casting her eyes back every now and then
Beck I trust she realises that when you say serve her you mean service her.
Gordo I’m sure she shall get the point. She may even understand what I mean as well. Now back to the game! Let us rob these men of all in their pockets, and then of their pockets as well.
Narrator Gamely they play, and gamely Gordo loses. Finally fate smiles at him and he is given a hand that can win all. And so bet all he does. Even Becks share becomes ensnared.
Beck Fortune best favour this small fortune you wager, Gordo!
Gordo Courage my friend! And doubtless none here have the courage to match and to call. Like the mute swan, all they may do is hiss with regal redress.
Narrator And true enough, the players do fold and do curse. Yet one among them does not, a figure shrouded by silence and shadows. Weathered hands toss a leather pouch into the fray, and Gordo feels himself being stared down by unseen eyes.
Gordo Very well oh ghost of the corner. Let us lay ourselves bare, with truth in our hands and hearts on our sleeves. Behold and bemoan! Four kings do stab at thee.
The crowd gasp and more than one man is glad he folded. Gordo goes to take the money, grinning. But the leathery hand settles on his.
Stranger Haste makes not grace, young one. The kings stab in vain. Though they think the highest of themselves, we all know the truth.
Gordo No!
The stranger shows his hand and people clap theirs
Stranger Above them lie some. Four aces shield me.
Gordo My wealth!
Beck Fathers wealth! No honour shall I bring home, nor love receive!
Stranger Foolish to put your faith in kings. They are fools themselves. Look upon the lord of hearts. No closer I say!
Gordo He…he stabs himself.
Stranger Aye, showing him the wisest of the four. Think on that, as I take my leave.
Stranger exits
Thursday, 30 October 2008
Wednesday, 29 October 2008
a playe of epyc proportins (the start anyway)
A long shadow
Men of the world doth promises make
And many a man of oaths have spake
Yet promise and oath be heavy weights
And sure as the dawn these things do break
This be a tale of promise to one
One man to other, father to son
Of words unsaid and of deeds undone
A grain of truth, a mere speck, a crumb
Narrator Behold the fair city of Arrowshorn, prized Gem in the crown of Galad, a kingdom like no other. Only fitting then, that the king himself resides there, seated in his throne in the seat of the world. Once he was a wise and just ruler, but as a rule power corrupts. His seat holds too much comfort and turns him complacent. Neglectful of his people, he concerns himself only with idleness and luxury.
King More wine and wenches. More beef and bacon. Only the best for a man in my station
Narrator Thus it falls upon those below him to make sure he stays atop. Dutiful son Elmin shoulders the burden. A subtle Atlas he is, carrying all worldly concerns with him always.
Scene shifts to Elmin in his study, hard at work
Elmin Grain imports from the east are drying up. Look west for new crops. Taxes in the slums are too high, while the temple district distracts the coffers with pretty words. What need have men of the cloth for exotic silks?
Narrator Day and night the son toils. His young pretty bride, recently wed, still awaits christening of marriage bed. Yet a secret Elmin does hide
Elmin Of fair maidens touch, I can abide. I seek not the company of boys, though that’s what some say. Yet neither flesh doth give me a rise. As fertile as dust I am. No fruit shall flow from these loins, no seed can be sown. Childless forever I’ll remain, though I must hide it, to hide my shame.
King bursts through, with favoured wench Mary
King What ho, my son! Still with your head buried in books, while your wife waits for it to be buried in her bosom. Folly I cry! Folly!
Elmin Father please, I have work to do.
King You speak true. A young maid to be laid and a grandchild made. That is the work that must be done. And thirsty work it is
The king drinks deep from his flagon and fondles Mary, who giggles
Elmin But the people must come first. For seven generations the proud family of Phearson have looked over the kingdom of Galad, protecting its citizens from all that besiege.
King Indeed, Indeed. And very soon you will be king. A better ruler than I, methinks. Yet the people are content with this old fool now, for they know that you will take my place. The eighth Phearson to wear the crown and sit within the Pillar of Tears. Yet the people must know that a ninth King will follow. If the line is broken then all illusion of stability is gone, for nought keeps us kings but mere tradition. So I implore you; sheave your sword in her scabbard. Be it long or short, broad or narrow. I once knew saw a man curved like a rapier.
Elmin There are better ways to measure the worth of a man than with a ruler. But what became of this rapier you describe?
King Hung for rape.
Elmin No doubt he was pressured by his father to produce a son
King And yet without a son you shall never rule. Do not think yourself smarter than I, child of paper and ink. It is with flesh and blood that we are made. We are borne into the world covered in the stuff. And with our flesh meeting a maids do we make more flesh. Know this; I have signed a degree declaring you illegitimate for the throne should wifey fail to grow into a more fitting form.
Elmin And what of stability? Of the great and noble family tree?
King I have branches of bastards to replace you. You are just one stalk from my crop. True you are smarter than most, but what use a plant that does not bloom. And what of your bride? I see in her eye a desire of the carnal. If you will not lie with her, then perhaps I might.
Elmin Father! Enough of this talk. I am a Phearson, of hardy stock. I shall take my bride soon.
King When?!
Elmin At hunters moon, so shall my arrow prick her.
King Excellent. Come Mary, to my chambers we go. An argument is good for the blood and makes it flow
King exits
Narrator And though the king now be full of glee, all Elmin knows is sorrow. For Hunters moon is all too soon, two weeks off the morrow
Elmin A plan I need. No feckless fool can rule. Twould be bad for all. I love my wife, and she loves me…perhaps. Would she take another for a night? Lie with him then lie that it was I that make her with child? Nay, if only so she might avoid scandal. Bah! To the city I flee, in search of some inspiration.
Men of the world doth promises make
And many a man of oaths have spake
Yet promise and oath be heavy weights
And sure as the dawn these things do break
This be a tale of promise to one
One man to other, father to son
Of words unsaid and of deeds undone
A grain of truth, a mere speck, a crumb
Narrator Behold the fair city of Arrowshorn, prized Gem in the crown of Galad, a kingdom like no other. Only fitting then, that the king himself resides there, seated in his throne in the seat of the world. Once he was a wise and just ruler, but as a rule power corrupts. His seat holds too much comfort and turns him complacent. Neglectful of his people, he concerns himself only with idleness and luxury.
King More wine and wenches. More beef and bacon. Only the best for a man in my station
Narrator Thus it falls upon those below him to make sure he stays atop. Dutiful son Elmin shoulders the burden. A subtle Atlas he is, carrying all worldly concerns with him always.
Scene shifts to Elmin in his study, hard at work
Elmin Grain imports from the east are drying up. Look west for new crops. Taxes in the slums are too high, while the temple district distracts the coffers with pretty words. What need have men of the cloth for exotic silks?
Narrator Day and night the son toils. His young pretty bride, recently wed, still awaits christening of marriage bed. Yet a secret Elmin does hide
Elmin Of fair maidens touch, I can abide. I seek not the company of boys, though that’s what some say. Yet neither flesh doth give me a rise. As fertile as dust I am. No fruit shall flow from these loins, no seed can be sown. Childless forever I’ll remain, though I must hide it, to hide my shame.
King bursts through, with favoured wench Mary
King What ho, my son! Still with your head buried in books, while your wife waits for it to be buried in her bosom. Folly I cry! Folly!
Elmin Father please, I have work to do.
King You speak true. A young maid to be laid and a grandchild made. That is the work that must be done. And thirsty work it is
The king drinks deep from his flagon and fondles Mary, who giggles
Elmin But the people must come first. For seven generations the proud family of Phearson have looked over the kingdom of Galad, protecting its citizens from all that besiege.
King Indeed, Indeed. And very soon you will be king. A better ruler than I, methinks. Yet the people are content with this old fool now, for they know that you will take my place. The eighth Phearson to wear the crown and sit within the Pillar of Tears. Yet the people must know that a ninth King will follow. If the line is broken then all illusion of stability is gone, for nought keeps us kings but mere tradition. So I implore you; sheave your sword in her scabbard. Be it long or short, broad or narrow. I once knew saw a man curved like a rapier.
Elmin There are better ways to measure the worth of a man than with a ruler. But what became of this rapier you describe?
King Hung for rape.
Elmin No doubt he was pressured by his father to produce a son
King And yet without a son you shall never rule. Do not think yourself smarter than I, child of paper and ink. It is with flesh and blood that we are made. We are borne into the world covered in the stuff. And with our flesh meeting a maids do we make more flesh. Know this; I have signed a degree declaring you illegitimate for the throne should wifey fail to grow into a more fitting form.
Elmin And what of stability? Of the great and noble family tree?
King I have branches of bastards to replace you. You are just one stalk from my crop. True you are smarter than most, but what use a plant that does not bloom. And what of your bride? I see in her eye a desire of the carnal. If you will not lie with her, then perhaps I might.
Elmin Father! Enough of this talk. I am a Phearson, of hardy stock. I shall take my bride soon.
King When?!
Elmin At hunters moon, so shall my arrow prick her.
King Excellent. Come Mary, to my chambers we go. An argument is good for the blood and makes it flow
King exits
Narrator And though the king now be full of glee, all Elmin knows is sorrow. For Hunters moon is all too soon, two weeks off the morrow
Elmin A plan I need. No feckless fool can rule. Twould be bad for all. I love my wife, and she loves me…perhaps. Would she take another for a night? Lie with him then lie that it was I that make her with child? Nay, if only so she might avoid scandal. Bah! To the city I flee, in search of some inspiration.
Tuesday, 28 October 2008
but muuuuuuuuuuuuum
My folks are pretty damn good in terms of giving me my space and letting me fuck up and learn on my own. Hell they even ever so subtley encourage me to try crazy shit and live life to the pepsi max. But theres one point that my mum fails miserably to respect my ill guarded personal borders, and swamps me with huge amounts of illegal immigrating parenting. and this is clothes shopping.
when we go clothes shopping i automatically become 8 again, and she (literally) drags me about the store, forcing me to try on pratically everything, telling me to stand up straight-don't slouch! walk around, look in the mirror and get a feel for it. and all the while attractive young shop assistants try not to laugh. and now i am the ripe old age of 20, its ever so slightly disturbing when she tugs at my waistline to see if trousers are too tight or baggy.
Course you gotta put up with it. resisting makes you look as childish as you're being treated and my dear mama is not above clouting me one if i misbehave. And hell, you're getting free gear so what right is there to complain. (note-a point of some pride in my life is that despite my parents insistince on clothing, i pay for pretty much everything else in my life, including rent. Thats why i sometimes, but not often, hate my fellow students whos folks pay for everything for them)
thought of the day-you know how on a cold day you breathe out hot and smoke/condensation appears? I've always wondered if the same happens when you fart
when we go clothes shopping i automatically become 8 again, and she (literally) drags me about the store, forcing me to try on pratically everything, telling me to stand up straight-don't slouch! walk around, look in the mirror and get a feel for it. and all the while attractive young shop assistants try not to laugh. and now i am the ripe old age of 20, its ever so slightly disturbing when she tugs at my waistline to see if trousers are too tight or baggy.
Course you gotta put up with it. resisting makes you look as childish as you're being treated and my dear mama is not above clouting me one if i misbehave. And hell, you're getting free gear so what right is there to complain. (note-a point of some pride in my life is that despite my parents insistince on clothing, i pay for pretty much everything else in my life, including rent. Thats why i sometimes, but not often, hate my fellow students whos folks pay for everything for them)
thought of the day-you know how on a cold day you breathe out hot and smoke/condensation appears? I've always wondered if the same happens when you fart
Friday, 24 October 2008
behold the casual grip of the mundane
a bit more about my voyeurism, and the strange fettishes that hide with me behind the curtains. I find it an incredibly compelling thing to see middle aged people do childish things. I don't mean petty or small things, but actual unconcious actions. for example, there was the besuited business man that complained that his tummy was sore, rubbing it for effect. Or when a woman at work swatted feebly at a fly, wanting it to go away but to scared to actually hit it. Or when I see anyone act shy or akward or nervous. Had a teacher at school that was terrified of her class, and spoke in a voice that shook along with her hands. felt kinda bad for her, and even made the schoolboy error of voicing concenrs to peers, who in turn peer down and declare "you fancy her!"
Bit foolish to assume that adults are in fact always adult 100% of the time. my own deffinition of adult is kinda wierd and pretty damn narrow. an adult is someone that is either succesfully doing the family thing, and/or doing the whole career thing. having salt in your pepper and creases in your facebook (because faces do tell stories, though as always never judge a book by its cover) certainly helps too.
thought of the day-food prices might be shooting up like rich addicts, but cider remains incredibly cheap. and you know what they say about drinking on an empty stomach. Sinister aliaince between governments and brewing companies to keep the prolitariate down??? damn you signor orwell, making me paranoid
Bit foolish to assume that adults are in fact always adult 100% of the time. my own deffinition of adult is kinda wierd and pretty damn narrow. an adult is someone that is either succesfully doing the family thing, and/or doing the whole career thing. having salt in your pepper and creases in your facebook (because faces do tell stories, though as always never judge a book by its cover) certainly helps too.
thought of the day-food prices might be shooting up like rich addicts, but cider remains incredibly cheap. and you know what they say about drinking on an empty stomach. Sinister aliaince between governments and brewing companies to keep the prolitariate down??? damn you signor orwell, making me paranoid
Wednesday, 22 October 2008
more possible fiction
My first Kiss
They say that your first kiss is the one that you judge all others by, that it’s something you will always remember. They talk shit, and if it’s a rule then I am the exception to it. Fact is I cannot remember my first kiss at all, as I was, not to put too fine a point on it, rat arse wasted.
A bit of context might be useful here. At a friends 18th, and a bunch of us were round playing videogames, talking shit and boozing. Nothing new there, but the big amazing difference that marks this occasion out from a hundred other is the fact that there were women present! Now this might not seem a big deal to all you city slickers, but back home young ladies are hard to come by, and ones that would submit themselves to our company were practically non existent.
These young ladies came from the fair town of Peebles, a fairly sinister place it must be said. We met them the worst possible way-online. Or rather birthday boy did, and took a shine to one of them. I was integrated into this whole talking online crap, ands you know I’ll admit, I went for it too. I mean Christ, someone of the female persuasion to talk to that seemed interested in me. I dared hope good things might come of it.
A meet was arranged, where birthday boy hit it off with his target and I did the exact opposite with mine. She didn’t realise this however, and I was too chicken shit to be blunt about it.
Anyhow basically she wanted to hook up with me at this party, and I wasn’t keen on it. So she gets drunk and starts crying on the staircase. Now this makes me feel about as low as I can. So I drink. A LOT. Two litres of cider and half a bottle of straight vodka. The Norsk stuff that sits at about 55%. Last thing I remember was sitting on the couch in a pool of self loathing. Beyond that memory kinda fails.
What I was told however, was this. On my way to the toilet girl crying on staircase jumps up, throws me against wall and starts making out with me. And I am in absolutely no condition to say no. Apparently she had to prop me up to stop me falling.
Not long after this I pass out. This is the only time I have done so from boozing, and it stays with me to this day. You might not think it, but I am damn careful about my drink, and switch to water when things get shaky. My friends came through for me though, and dragged me upstairs to lie in the recovery position as I sleep and spew and die.
They tell me a great story when I wake. Apparently I get up halfway through the night and try and take a piss…on the TV. But what good friends I have, they run down and get a basin, and even hold me still so I don’t miss. Exactly what parts they held is something I never want to know. My friend does have a pool table in his room though, and I have this image of them using the cues like chop sticks to direct my flow from a safe distance.
And that’s how I got my first kiss. Best part was birthday boy actually ended up going out with the girl that ever so slightly sexually assaulted me. Except cause I’m a guy I have to laugh it off and not feel all violated. Sexual inequality-not just for girls.
I’ll end with a little horror story. Obviously I reeked of vomit. When I got home I showered for a year, but could still smell it on me. All day I smelled it, until I blew my nose and discovered it was hiding up there, all crusty and old.
They say that your first kiss is the one that you judge all others by, that it’s something you will always remember. They talk shit, and if it’s a rule then I am the exception to it. Fact is I cannot remember my first kiss at all, as I was, not to put too fine a point on it, rat arse wasted.
A bit of context might be useful here. At a friends 18th, and a bunch of us were round playing videogames, talking shit and boozing. Nothing new there, but the big amazing difference that marks this occasion out from a hundred other is the fact that there were women present! Now this might not seem a big deal to all you city slickers, but back home young ladies are hard to come by, and ones that would submit themselves to our company were practically non existent.
These young ladies came from the fair town of Peebles, a fairly sinister place it must be said. We met them the worst possible way-online. Or rather birthday boy did, and took a shine to one of them. I was integrated into this whole talking online crap, ands you know I’ll admit, I went for it too. I mean Christ, someone of the female persuasion to talk to that seemed interested in me. I dared hope good things might come of it.
A meet was arranged, where birthday boy hit it off with his target and I did the exact opposite with mine. She didn’t realise this however, and I was too chicken shit to be blunt about it.
Anyhow basically she wanted to hook up with me at this party, and I wasn’t keen on it. So she gets drunk and starts crying on the staircase. Now this makes me feel about as low as I can. So I drink. A LOT. Two litres of cider and half a bottle of straight vodka. The Norsk stuff that sits at about 55%. Last thing I remember was sitting on the couch in a pool of self loathing. Beyond that memory kinda fails.
What I was told however, was this. On my way to the toilet girl crying on staircase jumps up, throws me against wall and starts making out with me. And I am in absolutely no condition to say no. Apparently she had to prop me up to stop me falling.
Not long after this I pass out. This is the only time I have done so from boozing, and it stays with me to this day. You might not think it, but I am damn careful about my drink, and switch to water when things get shaky. My friends came through for me though, and dragged me upstairs to lie in the recovery position as I sleep and spew and die.
They tell me a great story when I wake. Apparently I get up halfway through the night and try and take a piss…on the TV. But what good friends I have, they run down and get a basin, and even hold me still so I don’t miss. Exactly what parts they held is something I never want to know. My friend does have a pool table in his room though, and I have this image of them using the cues like chop sticks to direct my flow from a safe distance.
And that’s how I got my first kiss. Best part was birthday boy actually ended up going out with the girl that ever so slightly sexually assaulted me. Except cause I’m a guy I have to laugh it off and not feel all violated. Sexual inequality-not just for girls.
I’ll end with a little horror story. Obviously I reeked of vomit. When I got home I showered for a year, but could still smell it on me. All day I smelled it, until I blew my nose and discovered it was hiding up there, all crusty and old.
Fiction...?
Making it to the semi finales of the regional Pokemon battling championships
The title says it all really. And before accusations of “nerd” get hurled this was when Pokemon was still cool (like it ever became uncool) Yep, we still just had the original 151 and there was none of this pissing about with natures or hold items or the dubious ethics of cross species selective breeding
There’s only one really important thing you need to know about a pokemon tournament. Every single person will have a team all at level 99. Stupid rare candy cheat, turning what should be hours of tedious grind into minutes of tedious item replication. In my mind here’s how a tournament should play out. You begin a new game at the exact same time, are free to trade and chat, and at hourly periods are forced to battle. It makes it frantic, strategic, and full of plenty of back stabbing and broken alliances. Good training for a corporate environment
Anyway, I’d been lucky so far, matching off against incredibly inept trainers and winning by a fair margin each time. There was one idiot that decided having team entirely consisting of pikachus was a good ploy, relying on the ever so fickle paralysis gambit. My golem and snorlax swept that dream away. Then there was the fan boy, who basically had season 1’s Ashes team. Hell he even had the hat, and twisted it each time he sent one to their untimely death. If he had had the sense to evolve, things might have gotten hairy. Then there was the small child I made cry. I felt bad until he started swearing at me.
And now here I was, in the semi finales. Now the event (held at a toys R us if you were wondering) wasn’t exactly crowded, maybe fifty people in all. But a gameboy, as you well know, is fairly small. I had about eight guys crowding around my screen, as did my opponent, and I dunno about him, but the close proximity of sweaty prepubescents was getting to me.
A Pokemon battle is a lot like poker. From the outside it seems a lot of luck is involved, what with type matches, critical hits and missed status effects. But there are loads of things you can do to maximise your odds. I knew this (from online guides I’ll admit) and clearly my opponent did too. We danced around editing each others stats, hoping like hell our base stats were higher than the others. And then got to the nitty and gritty of sweeping and blocking. My snorlax was on fine form and I was well positioned to counter his. But then he pulled something unexpected out of the hat. A Taurus. I hadn’t anticipated that, and my failure to do so was the end of me. It’s hybrid attack blocker stats meant my snorlax eventually lost out and from there it was a quick clyoister ice beam rally to death. My dragonite managed to finally take it out but the damage was done and my hopes of making it to the finals of the regional Pokemon battling championships whited out with him.
Apologies to anyone that doesn’t have a clue what I’m on about. You N00bs.
Monday, 20 October 2008
A man walks into a bar...and breaks his nose
I keep see-sawing with the cold right now, alternating between flegmy death and 100 health and armour every hour or so. got caught in some nasty ass weather today, my own fault for shunning public transport in favour of booze money. I've always felt the cold more than most, and have taken to wearing hats all the time, and sleeping with (women OMFG!!!!!!!) both a duvet and sleeping bag. stupid global warming, failing to live up to its name.
Work was a fairly casual affair, like the one between me and your mother. The dull grind was routine and reasonably easy going and once again i recieve praise for my pizza rolling abilities. Also turns out boss spoke up for me when manager ranted about kitchen not being clean enough. your damn right it is when i finish up, who else bothers to pull the counters out to sweep beneath them. Its a good vibe actually, to have someone stand up for you of their own accord, so yay for that.
I walked past a burger king that i ate in a year ago and was hit with nostalgia, about sitting in there, people watching (always a facinating thing in any fast food distributor) Then I got thinking, what is the time limit on nostalgia? can you really be nostalgic about something that happened yesterday, a month, a year ago? how long does it take for the brain memory chemicals to ferment into that intoxicating shot of reminisince? to be honest I don't really care, but hey gotta say something interesting.
thought of the day-when we say we're looking for someone to challenge us, what we actually mean is-we want someone that challenges us, but eventually submits and sees things from our point of view. christ forbid they be the ones stronger than us and in the right.
Work was a fairly casual affair, like the one between me and your mother. The dull grind was routine and reasonably easy going and once again i recieve praise for my pizza rolling abilities. Also turns out boss spoke up for me when manager ranted about kitchen not being clean enough. your damn right it is when i finish up, who else bothers to pull the counters out to sweep beneath them. Its a good vibe actually, to have someone stand up for you of their own accord, so yay for that.
I walked past a burger king that i ate in a year ago and was hit with nostalgia, about sitting in there, people watching (always a facinating thing in any fast food distributor) Then I got thinking, what is the time limit on nostalgia? can you really be nostalgic about something that happened yesterday, a month, a year ago? how long does it take for the brain memory chemicals to ferment into that intoxicating shot of reminisince? to be honest I don't really care, but hey gotta say something interesting.
thought of the day-when we say we're looking for someone to challenge us, what we actually mean is-we want someone that challenges us, but eventually submits and sees things from our point of view. christ forbid they be the ones stronger than us and in the right.
Saturday, 18 October 2008
Rainbows give you cancer!
which is why leprechauns are so damn anxious to splash the cash. the cogs of beaurcracy and complacency means i don't really know exactly when i;m leaving work, but i'm doing piss easy shifts anyways-12 hours a week. I think they're being nice to me and want me to suddenly realise that quitting would be a foolish mistake, but i;m sticking to my guns (kisses arms) Sad fact is i've been there so long that i've grown tired of the place. My work is hardly stimulating and i don't actually deal with people so i tend to spend a shift either switched off and running on automatic, or plain bugging staff outta boredom.
Unfortunatly, less hours means less cash, and money is something that is now keenly on my mind again. of course its nowhere near as bad as the good old days of going large in the uni toilets so i don't have to buy toilet roll, but sad as it seems, going out and buying shit is a damn good distraction. and thats why the commies will never win. and given my old man works for a bank that is apparently in meltdown due to credit crunch, i desperatly don't want to be a burden on the folks right now. keeping quiet about the fact he said he'd buy my books this year. most of the shits posted online or in the library anyways, and i still got last years cacky texts to trade in.
In fact, i was thinking about it yester, and i'm actually pretty finaincially sound for the next while. best case scenario is i gets my holiday pay on quitting, so a few hundered there, plus a tax rebate thing of another few hundered. i got 300 in my account and another 800 overdraft that can, if needs be, extended. hopefully i haven't ballsed up the student loan malarky and thats another 800. plus emergency loose change in bags amounting to about 50. hell i could buy an island if i wanted to, and spend the rest of my life paying off debt.
thought of the day-sometimes i think a domineering girlfriend would do me a world of good
Unfortunatly, less hours means less cash, and money is something that is now keenly on my mind again. of course its nowhere near as bad as the good old days of going large in the uni toilets so i don't have to buy toilet roll, but sad as it seems, going out and buying shit is a damn good distraction. and thats why the commies will never win. and given my old man works for a bank that is apparently in meltdown due to credit crunch, i desperatly don't want to be a burden on the folks right now. keeping quiet about the fact he said he'd buy my books this year. most of the shits posted online or in the library anyways, and i still got last years cacky texts to trade in.
In fact, i was thinking about it yester, and i'm actually pretty finaincially sound for the next while. best case scenario is i gets my holiday pay on quitting, so a few hundered there, plus a tax rebate thing of another few hundered. i got 300 in my account and another 800 overdraft that can, if needs be, extended. hopefully i haven't ballsed up the student loan malarky and thats another 800. plus emergency loose change in bags amounting to about 50. hell i could buy an island if i wanted to, and spend the rest of my life paying off debt.
thought of the day-sometimes i think a domineering girlfriend would do me a world of good
Thursday, 16 October 2008
OMFG gotta work this year
Seems this year may mean biting off more than i can chew and being forced to very quickly learn how to deep throat. Let me explain. see to be good at my course requires the following things. A good grasp of history, mythology, classics, philosophy, politics, the bible and religion, anthropology, art and its critique, critical theory, media studies, industrial processes, marketing etc. at no point has completing halo 3 on legendary or being able to name 200 pokemon proved useful.
so yeah, basically got a shit load of reading to do. sometimes i suspect an english course is basically one that nabs the catchiest parts of other courses in an attempt to please everyone. given my own lack of specified intrest, this is probably why i like it.
thought of the day-"what is a man but a miserable collection of secrets and lies?" anyone know the quote? cause i don't and its been bugging me a while.
so yeah, basically got a shit load of reading to do. sometimes i suspect an english course is basically one that nabs the catchiest parts of other courses in an attempt to please everyone. given my own lack of specified intrest, this is probably why i like it.
thought of the day-"what is a man but a miserable collection of secrets and lies?" anyone know the quote? cause i don't and its been bugging me a while.
Wednesday, 15 October 2008
the clocks face has five o'clock shadow
Full of random facts
obsessed with Porn
makes up hip new words and phrases
incredibly self referential
likened to chuck norris
wikigoogletube
awesome videogaming
Either lightening quick or frustratingly slow
constantly entered by strange people
scares the elderly
From this evidence we can conclude that in fact I am the Internet.
obsessed with Porn
makes up hip new words and phrases
incredibly self referential
likened to chuck norris
wikigoogletube
awesome videogaming
Either lightening quick or frustratingly slow
constantly entered by strange people
scares the elderly
From this evidence we can conclude that in fact I am the Internet.
Things like this do not happen
She sat down on the bench next to him. The man, who had been staring into space, turned to see if he knew her. She did the same and they held each others gaze. Too long they both looked for them not to say something.
“Hi” she said
“Hey”
She leaned in and further scrutinized him.
“Your eyes are watering” she said.
“Hay fever” he replied
“It’s November”
“Yeah well, global warming and all that.”
She laughed “Well, as long as you’re ok”
He nodded and smiled thinly back, then returned to his staring contest with the intangible.
Fair enough, she thought.
Presently a jogger came by and paused when he saw her. He walked up to the bench and spoke. “Hey Jane, how are you?” he said, breathing heavily.
“I’m pretty good Kevin, thanks. You?”
“Good, good. Look I’m sorry but I got to keep on track with my regime. I’ll speak to you later ok?” he turned and walked off.
“Feel the burn and love it!” she called to his retreating back
She turned and saw the man had been watching this exchange. “Jealous?” she asked
“Envious actually. That was one handsome guy”
“Did you see his chiselled jaw?”
“I was too busy admiring his bulging abs, but he is certainly quite the Adonis”
“I could introduce you two…”
“I’m a poor swimmer. I’d drown in those baby blues of his”
They paused in their verbal jousting to assess the situation. Two people carefully weighing the other up. It was him that spoke first.
“So, Jane is it?”
“It is. Plain old Jane”
“So, what brings you out on this fine day, plain old Jane?”
“Well, the fact that it is a fine day for one thing” she said airily. Then she gave him a serious look “And I think I can guess why you’re here”
“Oh?”
You’re dressed smartly wearing all black, even your tie, with your eyes watering”
“From hay fever”
“I think it a safe bet that it wasn’t a wedding you were at. Were you close?”
“We…were”
“It’s always hard to lose somebody close to you. Ummm, I have. And felt…broken, for a long, long time. There’s no real advice to give or words to help. Just try and distract yourself with your favourite things”
He gave her an incredibly wry look “Unfortunately my favourite thing involves a woman”
She returned his look “And dare I ask the specifics”
“It has a stupid name that does it no justice at all. The only way you could understand is if I show you”
“Does it involve your hands, or mouth or…midsection?”
“No, no and no”
She took a deep breath and said “fine, at the risk of disappointing feminists everywhere…show me”
He slowly and carefully lowered his head to hers and rested it against her forehead. The bridges of their noses touched and formed a link between them and their eyes, inches apart, stared long and deep, his watering but never quite tearing. Then he lowered his head still further so it rested on her shoulder and their cheeks met. She felt him breath slow and steady and hot into her ear.
And just like that he pulled away, fresh stubble scratching her face in the retreat.
“It’s called nuzzling” he said “Sorry”
“That’s ok,” she said presently
“I was thinking about Kevin’s bulging abs at the time”
She smiled “That would explain the other bulge then” she said, pointing down.
He looked confused but then realised the implication “Hey, that’s just Michael Jackson” he said hurriedly.
She gave him a look. In response he tried to pull it out. She gave him another look. But he persevered and held before her eyes an old clunky IPod.
“Michael Jackson” he said.
“You named your IPod Michael Jackson?”
“Yes”
“Why?”
“Well, I guess I could make some crack about having it since I was a child, but mainly because it’s a black IPod with a white protective sleeve thing”
“Ahhhh” Another look followed. A much warmer one.
She took something out her bag and turned to the side for discretion. Then she turned back to him and presented it to him. It was a bus ticket. Perplexed he went to take it, but she closed her hand into a fist “You know my name, only fair if I learn yours” she said.
“Michael”
“Like the IPod?”
“Like him” he said, putting Michael Jackson away.
“Well Michael like the IPod, I’m afraid I have numerous commitments today, but I will take a chance here and give you this” she handed him the bus ticket. Then she got up and said “Goodbye”
“Bye”
She walked away.
Michael opened his hand and examined the bus ticket. It had her number on it. He looked at it for a long time. Then he held his palm open in the air and let the wind take it from him. He went back to staring at nothing
A long time later Michael arrived back at his flat, some two miles walk away. The walk home had done nothing to disprove his theory that his IPod had achieved sentience. Whilst on shuffle it had played Bonnie Tylers All by myself, Jack Johnsons we’re as lonely as we want to be and Radiohead’s how to disappear completely. He fumbled for the keys in his pocket when something small blew up against the door. It looked like a bus ticket. In fact it was a bus ticket, with a phone number on it no less. He was cynical enough to assume it could be anyone’s, but still you did not argue with shit like this. He pulled out his phone and saved the number as snakes on a Jane. Hen saw that he had also received a text. Dude, Y aint my best man here anymore???” It said. And just like that, his IPod started playing Nice day for a white wedding.
“It’s a nice day to start again”
“Hi” she said
“Hey”
She leaned in and further scrutinized him.
“Your eyes are watering” she said.
“Hay fever” he replied
“It’s November”
“Yeah well, global warming and all that.”
She laughed “Well, as long as you’re ok”
He nodded and smiled thinly back, then returned to his staring contest with the intangible.
Fair enough, she thought.
Presently a jogger came by and paused when he saw her. He walked up to the bench and spoke. “Hey Jane, how are you?” he said, breathing heavily.
“I’m pretty good Kevin, thanks. You?”
“Good, good. Look I’m sorry but I got to keep on track with my regime. I’ll speak to you later ok?” he turned and walked off.
“Feel the burn and love it!” she called to his retreating back
She turned and saw the man had been watching this exchange. “Jealous?” she asked
“Envious actually. That was one handsome guy”
“Did you see his chiselled jaw?”
“I was too busy admiring his bulging abs, but he is certainly quite the Adonis”
“I could introduce you two…”
“I’m a poor swimmer. I’d drown in those baby blues of his”
They paused in their verbal jousting to assess the situation. Two people carefully weighing the other up. It was him that spoke first.
“So, Jane is it?”
“It is. Plain old Jane”
“So, what brings you out on this fine day, plain old Jane?”
“Well, the fact that it is a fine day for one thing” she said airily. Then she gave him a serious look “And I think I can guess why you’re here”
“Oh?”
You’re dressed smartly wearing all black, even your tie, with your eyes watering”
“From hay fever”
“I think it a safe bet that it wasn’t a wedding you were at. Were you close?”
“We…were”
“It’s always hard to lose somebody close to you. Ummm, I have. And felt…broken, for a long, long time. There’s no real advice to give or words to help. Just try and distract yourself with your favourite things”
He gave her an incredibly wry look “Unfortunately my favourite thing involves a woman”
She returned his look “And dare I ask the specifics”
“It has a stupid name that does it no justice at all. The only way you could understand is if I show you”
“Does it involve your hands, or mouth or…midsection?”
“No, no and no”
She took a deep breath and said “fine, at the risk of disappointing feminists everywhere…show me”
He slowly and carefully lowered his head to hers and rested it against her forehead. The bridges of their noses touched and formed a link between them and their eyes, inches apart, stared long and deep, his watering but never quite tearing. Then he lowered his head still further so it rested on her shoulder and their cheeks met. She felt him breath slow and steady and hot into her ear.
And just like that he pulled away, fresh stubble scratching her face in the retreat.
“It’s called nuzzling” he said “Sorry”
“That’s ok,” she said presently
“I was thinking about Kevin’s bulging abs at the time”
She smiled “That would explain the other bulge then” she said, pointing down.
He looked confused but then realised the implication “Hey, that’s just Michael Jackson” he said hurriedly.
She gave him a look. In response he tried to pull it out. She gave him another look. But he persevered and held before her eyes an old clunky IPod.
“Michael Jackson” he said.
“You named your IPod Michael Jackson?”
“Yes”
“Why?”
“Well, I guess I could make some crack about having it since I was a child, but mainly because it’s a black IPod with a white protective sleeve thing”
“Ahhhh” Another look followed. A much warmer one.
She took something out her bag and turned to the side for discretion. Then she turned back to him and presented it to him. It was a bus ticket. Perplexed he went to take it, but she closed her hand into a fist “You know my name, only fair if I learn yours” she said.
“Michael”
“Like the IPod?”
“Like him” he said, putting Michael Jackson away.
“Well Michael like the IPod, I’m afraid I have numerous commitments today, but I will take a chance here and give you this” she handed him the bus ticket. Then she got up and said “Goodbye”
“Bye”
She walked away.
Michael opened his hand and examined the bus ticket. It had her number on it. He looked at it for a long time. Then he held his palm open in the air and let the wind take it from him. He went back to staring at nothing
A long time later Michael arrived back at his flat, some two miles walk away. The walk home had done nothing to disprove his theory that his IPod had achieved sentience. Whilst on shuffle it had played Bonnie Tylers All by myself, Jack Johnsons we’re as lonely as we want to be and Radiohead’s how to disappear completely. He fumbled for the keys in his pocket when something small blew up against the door. It looked like a bus ticket. In fact it was a bus ticket, with a phone number on it no less. He was cynical enough to assume it could be anyone’s, but still you did not argue with shit like this. He pulled out his phone and saved the number as snakes on a Jane. Hen saw that he had also received a text. Dude, Y aint my best man here anymore???” It said. And just like that, his IPod started playing Nice day for a white wedding.
“It’s a nice day to start again”
Tuesday, 14 October 2008
no prizes or surprizes
I found this from absolutely ages ago, so no one feel the need to call the samaritans on my behalth. And yes it is just a 2G's rip off
We all know where you been
See the look in your eyes
Yet we all go along
With your tired tried lies
If it brings you comfort
Who am I to deny
Beads of sweat and of sin
that seep out of your skin
Smudge your thin grinning guise
This thing that you do
don’t make no sense to me
For those you distaste
you get down on your knees
So pathetic and sad
that it pains me to see
watch them march on parade
such a shameful charade
of how you thought it would be
But you’ve changed so much
Watch as your morals corrode
Conscience becomes frayed
Old certainties erode
Ignore all integrity
Whilst convictions get stowed
See you struggle and stumble
A world around you crumbles
As you go down this road
And I watch from my perch
As you stand on the brink
Such a treacherous mindset
Such a lecherous wink
Look upon your chosen
Their hearts hidden in ink
Go be with your own kind
Only one thought on my mind
Poor Boy could use a drink
We all know where you been
See the look in your eyes
Yet we all go along
With your tired tried lies
If it brings you comfort
Who am I to deny
Beads of sweat and of sin
that seep out of your skin
Smudge your thin grinning guise
This thing that you do
don’t make no sense to me
For those you distaste
you get down on your knees
So pathetic and sad
that it pains me to see
watch them march on parade
such a shameful charade
of how you thought it would be
But you’ve changed so much
Watch as your morals corrode
Conscience becomes frayed
Old certainties erode
Ignore all integrity
Whilst convictions get stowed
See you struggle and stumble
A world around you crumbles
As you go down this road
And I watch from my perch
As you stand on the brink
Such a treacherous mindset
Such a lecherous wink
Look upon your chosen
Their hearts hidden in ink
Go be with your own kind
Only one thought on my mind
Poor Boy could use a drink
Monday, 13 October 2008
Trouble
You know you're in trouble when you walk in to a party and it has a yard glass
You know you're in trouble when you're pretty much hammered by 10
you know you're in trouble when you steal a strange persons bottle of whisky and take a hit
you know you're in trouble when you knock on a random door and are forced to ask "is asian looking guy in?"
You know you're in trouble when you end up being the third spoon with a guy and girl on the bed (the girl was in the middle so its ok)
You know you're in trouble when you end up at a burger van at 5 am ordering a "scooby snack" just to see what the hell it is
you know you're in trouble when you get a text in the morn sayin "still alive?"
Still, pretty good night
You know you're in trouble when you're pretty much hammered by 10
you know you're in trouble when you steal a strange persons bottle of whisky and take a hit
you know you're in trouble when you knock on a random door and are forced to ask "is asian looking guy in?"
You know you're in trouble when you end up being the third spoon with a guy and girl on the bed (the girl was in the middle so its ok)
You know you're in trouble when you end up at a burger van at 5 am ordering a "scooby snack" just to see what the hell it is
you know you're in trouble when you get a text in the morn sayin "still alive?"
Still, pretty good night
Friday, 10 October 2008
Love
right well, seems everyones talking about it so i best just grit my teeth and get it over with. Thinking about it, i don't reckon I've ever even heard my dad use the word, so blame him for my poor expressiveness.
I've never told a girl I loved her, for the fairy obvious reason that i've never been in love. Only had uno girlfriend after all. I liked her a hell of a lot, but we only went out for 3 months or so and saw each other only about once a week. Which in retrospect seems like hardly any together time at all, and certainly not enough to know for certain how I felt about her. wasn't heart broken when it ended, just sad for a long time.
My little brother once pretended to be me on my MSN, and told a girl that i loved her. I kinda dismissed it at the time, but turns out it fair affected her. fortunatly that whole episode is long done with and i think we are cool now. the lesson i took from it is that the L word is a dangerous thing indeed that should be regarded with caution and suspicion.
One time a girl accused me of loving some other girl and she must have clocked on to the look on my face because she quickly explained that she meant "Luv" not "Love" which are of course two entirely different things, apparently.
ummm, I kinda regret that I never told a girl when i was a teenager, that i think is when you might feel it the most, what with hormones flying about and all that malarky. Chemicals have mostly settled down now though, and I'm a lot less likely that have something in both my eyes when something dramatic happens. Which is a plus
Probably most guys feel this way, though truth be told the way i feel about things tends to be a fairly fluid and dynamic thing. with lasers attached
thought of the day-I haven;t kissed a girl sober in well over a year (boo bloody hoo says all you people that havn't kissed a girl in well over a year)
I've never told a girl I loved her, for the fairy obvious reason that i've never been in love. Only had uno girlfriend after all. I liked her a hell of a lot, but we only went out for 3 months or so and saw each other only about once a week. Which in retrospect seems like hardly any together time at all, and certainly not enough to know for certain how I felt about her. wasn't heart broken when it ended, just sad for a long time.
My little brother once pretended to be me on my MSN, and told a girl that i loved her. I kinda dismissed it at the time, but turns out it fair affected her. fortunatly that whole episode is long done with and i think we are cool now. the lesson i took from it is that the L word is a dangerous thing indeed that should be regarded with caution and suspicion.
One time a girl accused me of loving some other girl and she must have clocked on to the look on my face because she quickly explained that she meant "Luv" not "Love" which are of course two entirely different things, apparently.
ummm, I kinda regret that I never told a girl when i was a teenager, that i think is when you might feel it the most, what with hormones flying about and all that malarky. Chemicals have mostly settled down now though, and I'm a lot less likely that have something in both my eyes when something dramatic happens. Which is a plus
Probably most guys feel this way, though truth be told the way i feel about things tends to be a fairly fluid and dynamic thing. with lasers attached
thought of the day-I haven;t kissed a girl sober in well over a year (boo bloody hoo says all you people that havn't kissed a girl in well over a year)
Thursday, 9 October 2008
The group dynamic
Joe makes smoking cool
I make drinking cool
Catherine makes being a girl cool (probably the most challenging one)
And stewart makes the rest of us look cool by comparison. of course one day he will be cooler than all of us, the reward for all the adviserity he faces (so quit your bitchin)
Also, got a good one off in class the other day. fellow student bangs on how shit the sun newspaper is and how she wouldn't wipe her arse with it. lecturer asks why to which i quip "Cause its not very absorbant" Cue hilarity and laughter, with me being unable to bask in the dim glory due to being RIDICULOUSLY hung over. but theres pretty sound logic for the Sun being not a good paper for absorbancy. Being a tabloid it generally has more pictures than a broadsheet. the pictures use more ink, meaning the paper has already absorbed it, which means that you are far better sticking with a text heavy broadsheet like the Times. And of course wiping your arse with boobs is a good way to develope some very bad fettishes.
I make drinking cool
Catherine makes being a girl cool (probably the most challenging one)
And stewart makes the rest of us look cool by comparison. of course one day he will be cooler than all of us, the reward for all the adviserity he faces (so quit your bitchin)
Also, got a good one off in class the other day. fellow student bangs on how shit the sun newspaper is and how she wouldn't wipe her arse with it. lecturer asks why to which i quip "Cause its not very absorbant" Cue hilarity and laughter, with me being unable to bask in the dim glory due to being RIDICULOUSLY hung over. but theres pretty sound logic for the Sun being not a good paper for absorbancy. Being a tabloid it generally has more pictures than a broadsheet. the pictures use more ink, meaning the paper has already absorbed it, which means that you are far better sticking with a text heavy broadsheet like the Times. And of course wiping your arse with boobs is a good way to develope some very bad fettishes.
Tuesday, 7 October 2008
Fiction from (apparently) friction man
task-write about yourself from the point of view of an imaginary friend
John looked around the bar and saw Robert spread in the corner, reading the paper. He must have felt his eyes on him because he looked up and gave a nod. He walked on over and sat down next to him. Robert had been doing the Sudoku, and John saw immediately that he had been going wrong. He waited in silence for his friend to discover this, and smiled when a muttered curse told of his discovery.
“I used to be good at those” Robert said, tossing the paper aside.
“Getting old” John replied.
“That I am. You don’t want to know where I’ve been finding grey hairs” He downed the last dregs of his pint. “Drink?”
“It’s my turn to b…”
“Too slow. You’re getting a Fosters unless you say different” Robert got up and took his glass to the bar.
While he waited, John nabbed the paper and browsed. He was midway through the credit crunch, where every face had a monocle and top hat drawn on when Robert returned, drinks in hand. He sat down heavily and spilled some drink on himself. “Bah” he said, scowling. Both pints had straws in them.
John frowned “Been here long?” he asked. His friend looked worst for wear. Well, worster for wearer than normal anyway.
“Nah, just really tired from work is all” Robert replied, yawning for effect. And he really did, wincing as he shifted position.
“Still doing shit shifts?”
Robert shrugged “Fraid so. Thirteen hour one yesterday”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
Another shrug “Yeah, well so’s incest. But every night me and my sister curl up to each other whilst mumsy looks on.”
“You don’t have a sister” John pointed out
Roberts face went strange. The studied indifference changed and softened. The granite cleaved chin went chalky. He spoke softly in reply too “I kinda semi quasi not really do” he said.
There was silence, excused by the fact that there was drinking. It wasn’t awkward but it could have done with some filling. John obliged
“So, how are you anyway? Aside from tired”
“Fair to middling my friend. And you?”
John smiled “Well I had that date that I told you about”
“And?”
“Went pretty good. We seemed to hit it off, all going well. But I was hoping to ask your advice”
“Wear a condom and don’t shout out Steve when you come”
John smiled “I didn’t really mean on a technical front”
Robert laughed “Muah, technical front”
John sighed and looked exasperated. Robert returned the look. “Look, why would you ask me for relationship advice”
“You’ve been on more dates than me” John pointed out.
“Which means I’ve been on more failed dates than you. But fine, shoot” He slurped the rest of his drink through his straw. “You know my fee” he said waving the empty glass at him.
John returned with drinks and began to tell his tale “Well, about halfway through the date, she got this text message. And when she read it, she went all sad and quiet. And I thought it best at the time not to ask what the worry was. But now I’m starting to think I should have asked her. Show concern. I was concerned after all. Is it too late?”
Robert frowned. “It’s a tricky one all right. A conundrum if you will. Plenty of potential for fucking up. Then there’s always the possibility that you’re imagining it. You got a habit of making small things look big” He gestured downwards to Johns crotch.
“Hilarious. A penis joke”
Robert grinned “I’m full of them…wait no…damnit!”
“You’re certainly full of something”
Robert took another drink “Talking shit and boozing. That’s all I’m good at and good for”
“Being hard on yourself don’t you think?”
“There are worst skill sets to have. And anyway, people should be hard on themselves. Only they know themselves. Plus it has the added benefit of causing others to see you in a kinder light. Nothing like nabbing that sympathy vote”
John thought about all of this. Then he came to his sense “That has turd all to do with anything you hairy bastard. Now what do you think about what I told you?”
Robert stroked his three day beard. Finally he said “No bad can come from letting her know you care, even if it’s a touchy subject”
“You think?”
Robert shrugged “Christ knows. Want to do shots?”
John looked around the bar and saw Robert spread in the corner, reading the paper. He must have felt his eyes on him because he looked up and gave a nod. He walked on over and sat down next to him. Robert had been doing the Sudoku, and John saw immediately that he had been going wrong. He waited in silence for his friend to discover this, and smiled when a muttered curse told of his discovery.
“I used to be good at those” Robert said, tossing the paper aside.
“Getting old” John replied.
“That I am. You don’t want to know where I’ve been finding grey hairs” He downed the last dregs of his pint. “Drink?”
“It’s my turn to b…”
“Too slow. You’re getting a Fosters unless you say different” Robert got up and took his glass to the bar.
While he waited, John nabbed the paper and browsed. He was midway through the credit crunch, where every face had a monocle and top hat drawn on when Robert returned, drinks in hand. He sat down heavily and spilled some drink on himself. “Bah” he said, scowling. Both pints had straws in them.
John frowned “Been here long?” he asked. His friend looked worst for wear. Well, worster for wearer than normal anyway.
“Nah, just really tired from work is all” Robert replied, yawning for effect. And he really did, wincing as he shifted position.
“Still doing shit shifts?”
Robert shrugged “Fraid so. Thirteen hour one yesterday”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
Another shrug “Yeah, well so’s incest. But every night me and my sister curl up to each other whilst mumsy looks on.”
“You don’t have a sister” John pointed out
Roberts face went strange. The studied indifference changed and softened. The granite cleaved chin went chalky. He spoke softly in reply too “I kinda semi quasi not really do” he said.
There was silence, excused by the fact that there was drinking. It wasn’t awkward but it could have done with some filling. John obliged
“So, how are you anyway? Aside from tired”
“Fair to middling my friend. And you?”
John smiled “Well I had that date that I told you about”
“And?”
“Went pretty good. We seemed to hit it off, all going well. But I was hoping to ask your advice”
“Wear a condom and don’t shout out Steve when you come”
John smiled “I didn’t really mean on a technical front”
Robert laughed “Muah, technical front”
John sighed and looked exasperated. Robert returned the look. “Look, why would you ask me for relationship advice”
“You’ve been on more dates than me” John pointed out.
“Which means I’ve been on more failed dates than you. But fine, shoot” He slurped the rest of his drink through his straw. “You know my fee” he said waving the empty glass at him.
John returned with drinks and began to tell his tale “Well, about halfway through the date, she got this text message. And when she read it, she went all sad and quiet. And I thought it best at the time not to ask what the worry was. But now I’m starting to think I should have asked her. Show concern. I was concerned after all. Is it too late?”
Robert frowned. “It’s a tricky one all right. A conundrum if you will. Plenty of potential for fucking up. Then there’s always the possibility that you’re imagining it. You got a habit of making small things look big” He gestured downwards to Johns crotch.
“Hilarious. A penis joke”
Robert grinned “I’m full of them…wait no…damnit!”
“You’re certainly full of something”
Robert took another drink “Talking shit and boozing. That’s all I’m good at and good for”
“Being hard on yourself don’t you think?”
“There are worst skill sets to have. And anyway, people should be hard on themselves. Only they know themselves. Plus it has the added benefit of causing others to see you in a kinder light. Nothing like nabbing that sympathy vote”
John thought about all of this. Then he came to his sense “That has turd all to do with anything you hairy bastard. Now what do you think about what I told you?”
Robert stroked his three day beard. Finally he said “No bad can come from letting her know you care, even if it’s a touchy subject”
“You think?”
Robert shrugged “Christ knows. Want to do shots?”
Monday, 6 October 2008
Alternative employment
Is something i should start seeking for now. I've not actually quit yet, but everything is in position for a smooth switcheroo. Boss is coming back, someones lined up for an interview and most people have had enough fair warning so it doesn't come as a shocker. Yesterday kinda proved thed need for change, as i spent half of it just annoying people, head butting them and making funny noises. PRODUCTIVE. Ann-Marie even smacked me one, she was getting so sick of it, though i did kinda ask for it
"You wan me tae smack ye tights?"
"What does that even mean!?"
wack.
"OWWWWW"
Good times. For a sexual harrasment case!
Then i made the mistake of reading the paper. turns out theres this thing called a "credit crunch" Now I'm a bit sketchy on the details, but from what I gather it means that i will never ever get a job or have money ever again. And that Wall street will implode in a sea of cigar smoking fat cats in top hats.
If anyone hears of work for a handsome young man that likes to stand around street corners, do tell. I myself have a notion that working in McDonalds will pay off in the long run. think about it, there are quite literary McD's all over the world, so having that on you CV pretty much gives you guaranteed employment on a global scale. which is solid given i hope very much to travel some.
Me and JoJo from worked talked about Alpha males in clubs, with their runty little hanger ons. Which got me thinking if i fall into either category. a kindness would be to say that i'm mainly a lone wolf, doing my own thing, but christ knows if thats true or not. I do spend a great deal of time alone after all, but can be quite the socialiate when booze has been had. ummmm yeah whatever, sounds like the kinda thing not to be dwelled upon
thought of the day-I want to captain an air ship named Icarus 13
"You wan me tae smack ye tights?"
"What does that even mean!?"
wack.
"OWWWWW"
Good times. For a sexual harrasment case!
Then i made the mistake of reading the paper. turns out theres this thing called a "credit crunch" Now I'm a bit sketchy on the details, but from what I gather it means that i will never ever get a job or have money ever again. And that Wall street will implode in a sea of cigar smoking fat cats in top hats.
If anyone hears of work for a handsome young man that likes to stand around street corners, do tell. I myself have a notion that working in McDonalds will pay off in the long run. think about it, there are quite literary McD's all over the world, so having that on you CV pretty much gives you guaranteed employment on a global scale. which is solid given i hope very much to travel some.
Me and JoJo from worked talked about Alpha males in clubs, with their runty little hanger ons. Which got me thinking if i fall into either category. a kindness would be to say that i'm mainly a lone wolf, doing my own thing, but christ knows if thats true or not. I do spend a great deal of time alone after all, but can be quite the socialiate when booze has been had. ummmm yeah whatever, sounds like the kinda thing not to be dwelled upon
thought of the day-I want to captain an air ship named Icarus 13
Wednesday, 1 October 2008
whos that bobemon!?
Christ almighty talk about catharsis. Unfortunatly the only way to get out the poison in you is to replace it with another. Hence feeling pretty damn shit and hung over right now. But lets look at the facts. well first me and mine now have a pair of 1st year lackys that worship the ground we walk on, though don't ask me to recall their names. Then their was the free wine and certain people finally making some headway in the billions of drinks they owe. and also empty orchestra! coupled with the x-rated version of greeces summer days. i recived more than a few admiring glances for that performance, the big reciever that I am
People will tell you they can't help how they feel, but they're stupido! Hell there are entire industries based upon the premise of changing how you feel. big big bucks to be made my friends. Now if only my kidneys didn't hurt everything would be just shiney
thought of the day-I quite badly want a Jayne hat to go with my collection
People will tell you they can't help how they feel, but they're stupido! Hell there are entire industries based upon the premise of changing how you feel. big big bucks to be made my friends. Now if only my kidneys didn't hurt everything would be just shiney
thought of the day-I quite badly want a Jayne hat to go with my collection
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