It's not my fault. I don't actually want to horribly murder anyone in the face. I actually don't like real life violence.
Unfortunately though, Kieth Vaz has pointed out, yet again that playing violent video games turns people like me into killing machines. We don't feel remorse, or pity, or pain, and we will. Not. Stop. EVER. Until you are dead or we have a bottle of Pepsi and some snacks (don't wanna be afk now do we?).
What utter cockery! Call of Duty is a violent game, this is true. It's also rated 18 in the UK, so little kids shouldn't be playing it. If they are, then it's their parent's fault! Kieth doesn't want to listen to that though, oh no, he wants to go all Helen Lovejoy and stand there screaming THINK OF THE CHILDREN! While waving a copy of GTA around. I am 31 years old and have never murdered anyone. The last time I got in a fight was about 20 years ago. I'm usually found in restaurants with my girlfriend on nights out, and up until about a year ago I was a vegetarian. Sadly, according to Kieth This means I am about to go and horribly murder several of you whilst claiming to be a member of popular Jedi Cash machines, the Knights Templar. You think I'm kidding? Here's some games I've played. In some cases obsessively:
Left 4 Dead
Skyrim (which is an incredible game, and the link here sells it a bit short).
Dead Rising 2
Killzone 3
That's a very, very small selection of the games I own, or have owned. When I was in school I used to play Contra, and Doom. Two games which look a bit shonky now, but are nevertheless quite violent. Compare that to the ott violence in dead rising and it might appear shocking, but no more than other media. I really think that Kieth (please don't click that one, I actually threw up a bit in my mouth when I saw the pictures on the article, what can I say? I'm committed!) has misjudged what constitutes a gamer.
The people I know who play games are like me, mid twenties to early thirties, decent Job and relatively quiet. It's about escapism, nothing more. I can sit and watch the news telling me that I'm going to be horribly murdered in the face by Brevik, or Klebold and Harris, or I can slay dragons and jump off waterfalls and protect villages. I posted a link to skyrim before to emphasise that it's a violent game. What I didn't mention is the fact that throughout the game I have constantly protected innocent people from attack, I have reunited mothers with their children, and even saved an orphanage from a horrible old woman who was beating the kids. Yes, I CAN decapitate people for fun, but I would rather be a hero than some folkchopping bumhole.
The most important thing to remember is that Call of Duty has sold in the millions. That's important because over 3 million people have played this game, but only one has murdered people and blamed it. This means that Kieth is trying to enforce censorship on something that could drive someone to kill. The problem with his logic is that the odds are over 3 million to one. You are more likely to be murdered in a robbery which goes wrong, perpetrated by kids who's parents failed them. Well why did those parents fail? I'm sure it was at least in part due to the over generous welfare state and light prison sentences given out under a Labour government in the last 15 years or so. Of which Keith Vaz was a member. If you put it that way, he is more responsible for at least half of the violent crimes in this country than the makers of CoD are for Brevik.
Sleep well, and don't worry! I'm not going to murder anyone. I'm also aware that for the most part I have spelt Keith wrong. I can't be arsed changing it, it's not like I get paid for this shit.
Saturday 5 May 2012
Wednesday 2 May 2012
WHY YOU SHOULD FUCKING KILL YOURSELF.
You may have noticed the title of this blog. It's quite sharp, isn't it? Well chances are it's not aimed at you. If you're like me then you probably agree with what I'm about to say, and with a little luck you'll join me in slaughtering these vile fucks once we're done.
You may have noticed that some blogs have adverts around them. They're generally quite unintrusive, but they are still there. When you add them to your blog you will earn money if people click them, it's harmless enough but still quite annoying. This is my main issue here:
ADVERTISING.
Bill Hicks once said the following:
"By the way, if anyone here is in marketing or advertising...kill yourself. Thank you. Just planting seeds, planting seeds is all I'm doing. No joke here, really. Seriously, kill yourself, you have no rationalisation for what you do, you are Satan's little helpers. Kill yourself, kill yourself, kill yourself now. Now, back to the show. Seriously, I know the marketing people: 'There's gonna be a joke comin' up.' There's no fuckin' joke. Suck a tail pipe, hang yourself...borrow a pistol from an NRA buddy, do something...rid the world of your evil fuckin' presence.".
This was about 20 years ago. The Internet was in a very primitive form, the only places you would see ads on TV were in somewhat infrequent commercial breaks, and although billboards and junk mail were there, they were a lot less pronounced than they are now.
Remember I mentioned the ads on blogs? You'll notice that there are none here. I could have a million people read this daily, and I would NEVER knowingly allow ads on this page. It's called dignity. This blog costs me nothing to write, and I'm far from a professional. Why in the name of raptor Jesus would I ask you to click on links to some garbage or other in order to line my pockets? You owe me nothing! I do this partly to get things off my chest and partly because I enjoy giving people a guilty chuckle now and again. Not to align myself with the worlds most sickening industry. I have seen some bloggers on twitter begging people to click their ads, shouldn't we be treating this as a public forum to share information and ideas? Not to impersonate a fucking soap character in a one-note joke, and make colloquial humour which NOBODY OUTSIDE OF THE NORTH FUCKING WEST OF ENGLAND WILL UNDERSTAND, LET ALONE FUCKING CARE ABOUT. The only differences between us are a soul, and the fact that I fucking KNOW nobody cares what I think.
The Internet is full of ads, of varying degrees of annoyance. The worst by far are the ones with sound. I was reading an article a while back when some cunt started rapping. Now, we know my thoughts on rap anyway, but really? So you mean to tell me that this nasty little shitblister is hawking his artistically dead cuntsounds on an ad for SPORTSWEAR? Really? Considering most of these fucktards want everybody to believe that they're from the "streets" (as opposed to the roads, or avenues, or even closes? ffs...) while trying to hawk you some overpriced, flimsy footwear exclusively for cunts?
You just get the feeling that they're dead inside. That they tried and tried to get people to listen to their tired, pointless work and then some horrible cunt came up and made them an offer. You're a sellout with nothing to sell. Then one day, you're reading about something and there he is- ramming a cock with a Nike swoosh drawn on it down his fucking gullet- to try and persuade you, YES YOU, WHO JUST WANTED TO READ ABOUT SOMETHING REASONABLY INANE, that this sportswear is the best in the land for hanging round outside tesco. Fuck that! At least working in McDonald's can lead to a decent job. No, you sold out. You bent the fuck over and you took money from the same people you claim to be against. An angry young man who doesn't even know what to be angry about.
The ads you see on TV are vile as well. There are so many that it's hard to fit my utter, seething hatred of them into just a few paragraphs, so I'm going to just go with a couple of examples. The first is for a high street bank, in this ad we have a choir singing walking on sunshine. The choir is made up of people who work for said bank. They're all smiling and singing along! Oh don't they look cheerful! Wow, I sure want to throw money at them! Why? What the fuck has this got to do with anything!!?!? If you want me to invest my money in your bank, why not just make an ad saying "we won't charge you fees for nothing, we'll lend money fairly at a low rate, and outline the terms in a way that you can understand. We will try to answer your phone calls quickly and we will have a branch that opens on a Saturday for a few hours.". In black text on a white background. It cost5s sod all to make and gets your point across. You don't need to spend 500k on a multicultural, inclusive demographic of choral warblers and most of all you'll earn my respect. It's just so FORCED! Am I meant to believe that all of your staff get together on a Friday night for Katrina and the Waves night? Or that you run a fucking radio station based on horrible puns? WHAT THE FUCK HAS THIS GOT TO DO WITH THE FACT THAT YOU WANT MY MONEY? Be straight with it! Just stop bullshitting us and we'll be waving wads of tenners in front of you within 12 hours of broadcast.
The second example is for some "sell us your phone" company. A bunch of made up people spouting made up comments. One of which is a fat, middle aged man who spouts the word "wonga" like a downs syndrome child trying to impress it's carer. 99.9% of people who saw this advert thought one thing: "cunt". What did the company do? Why they made another ad, with thousands of clones of this fucking spacker up a mountain saying the same word. That's it. They think so little of you, that they only need one word said simultaneously by the same clone to make you use their services. They may as well have just sent you a fucking colouring book and a helmet.
Thirdly, and lastly for TV is the entire industry of "asbo ads". If you've ever sat through daytime TV you'll know the score. Gaudy, brightly coloured shit that is designed to get poor people to gamble online. This is the single worst thing, it's just so completely morally bankrupt that I have a hard time fathoming it. "every body's playing "x company" bingo!". This implies that you need to throw money at them to fit in, in the hopes of maybe winning some cash inbetween your chicken tikka lasagne and your loose women. It's sad, it's horrible and it's unforgivable.
So what do we do about it? Easy. If you are using Internet explorer, then stop. Get Firefox. Once you're using that, download adblock plus here. If you see any ads after that, just right click on them and block them. No more ads! Easy. As for the tv, you record programmes or watch them online. Just skip the ads. No more, they can't touch you. Fuck 'em!
Do you receive phone calls from telesales scum? Go here. This also works for junk mail. Any company contacting you once you register is breaking the law. Get their name and report them. They will be fined and you will have done us all a favour.
Outside of this there's not much we can do. I could tell you to vandalise any billboards or hoardings you see, but that would be illegal so I won't. What I will say is that this entire industry has made some nasty fuckers very rich, at the expense of your time and money. Why give them a free ride? They are the worst people in the entire world and need to be stopped. How dare they say your life needs to be improved by giving them your money? How dare they make you feel less than anyone else because you don't own their product? Not me, I'm sick of this. I'm ad free, and I'm staying that way.
This has been a long rant, thanks for reading!
You may have noticed that some blogs have adverts around them. They're generally quite unintrusive, but they are still there. When you add them to your blog you will earn money if people click them, it's harmless enough but still quite annoying. This is my main issue here:
ADVERTISING.
Bill Hicks once said the following:
"By the way, if anyone here is in marketing or advertising...kill yourself. Thank you. Just planting seeds, planting seeds is all I'm doing. No joke here, really. Seriously, kill yourself, you have no rationalisation for what you do, you are Satan's little helpers. Kill yourself, kill yourself, kill yourself now. Now, back to the show. Seriously, I know the marketing people: 'There's gonna be a joke comin' up.' There's no fuckin' joke. Suck a tail pipe, hang yourself...borrow a pistol from an NRA buddy, do something...rid the world of your evil fuckin' presence.".
This was about 20 years ago. The Internet was in a very primitive form, the only places you would see ads on TV were in somewhat infrequent commercial breaks, and although billboards and junk mail were there, they were a lot less pronounced than they are now.
Remember I mentioned the ads on blogs? You'll notice that there are none here. I could have a million people read this daily, and I would NEVER knowingly allow ads on this page. It's called dignity. This blog costs me nothing to write, and I'm far from a professional. Why in the name of raptor Jesus would I ask you to click on links to some garbage or other in order to line my pockets? You owe me nothing! I do this partly to get things off my chest and partly because I enjoy giving people a guilty chuckle now and again. Not to align myself with the worlds most sickening industry. I have seen some bloggers on twitter begging people to click their ads, shouldn't we be treating this as a public forum to share information and ideas? Not to impersonate a fucking soap character in a one-note joke, and make colloquial humour which NOBODY OUTSIDE OF THE NORTH FUCKING WEST OF ENGLAND WILL UNDERSTAND, LET ALONE FUCKING CARE ABOUT. The only differences between us are a soul, and the fact that I fucking KNOW nobody cares what I think.
The Internet is full of ads, of varying degrees of annoyance. The worst by far are the ones with sound. I was reading an article a while back when some cunt started rapping. Now, we know my thoughts on rap anyway, but really? So you mean to tell me that this nasty little shitblister is hawking his artistically dead cuntsounds on an ad for SPORTSWEAR? Really? Considering most of these fucktards want everybody to believe that they're from the "streets" (as opposed to the roads, or avenues, or even closes? ffs...) while trying to hawk you some overpriced, flimsy footwear exclusively for cunts?
You just get the feeling that they're dead inside. That they tried and tried to get people to listen to their tired, pointless work and then some horrible cunt came up and made them an offer. You're a sellout with nothing to sell. Then one day, you're reading about something and there he is- ramming a cock with a Nike swoosh drawn on it down his fucking gullet- to try and persuade you, YES YOU, WHO JUST WANTED TO READ ABOUT SOMETHING REASONABLY INANE, that this sportswear is the best in the land for hanging round outside tesco. Fuck that! At least working in McDonald's can lead to a decent job. No, you sold out. You bent the fuck over and you took money from the same people you claim to be against. An angry young man who doesn't even know what to be angry about.
The ads you see on TV are vile as well. There are so many that it's hard to fit my utter, seething hatred of them into just a few paragraphs, so I'm going to just go with a couple of examples. The first is for a high street bank, in this ad we have a choir singing walking on sunshine. The choir is made up of people who work for said bank. They're all smiling and singing along! Oh don't they look cheerful! Wow, I sure want to throw money at them! Why? What the fuck has this got to do with anything!!?!? If you want me to invest my money in your bank, why not just make an ad saying "we won't charge you fees for nothing, we'll lend money fairly at a low rate, and outline the terms in a way that you can understand. We will try to answer your phone calls quickly and we will have a branch that opens on a Saturday for a few hours.". In black text on a white background. It cost5s sod all to make and gets your point across. You don't need to spend 500k on a multicultural, inclusive demographic of choral warblers and most of all you'll earn my respect. It's just so FORCED! Am I meant to believe that all of your staff get together on a Friday night for Katrina and the Waves night? Or that you run a fucking radio station based on horrible puns? WHAT THE FUCK HAS THIS GOT TO DO WITH THE FACT THAT YOU WANT MY MONEY? Be straight with it! Just stop bullshitting us and we'll be waving wads of tenners in front of you within 12 hours of broadcast.
The second example is for some "sell us your phone" company. A bunch of made up people spouting made up comments. One of which is a fat, middle aged man who spouts the word "wonga" like a downs syndrome child trying to impress it's carer. 99.9% of people who saw this advert thought one thing: "cunt". What did the company do? Why they made another ad, with thousands of clones of this fucking spacker up a mountain saying the same word. That's it. They think so little of you, that they only need one word said simultaneously by the same clone to make you use their services. They may as well have just sent you a fucking colouring book and a helmet.
Thirdly, and lastly for TV is the entire industry of "asbo ads". If you've ever sat through daytime TV you'll know the score. Gaudy, brightly coloured shit that is designed to get poor people to gamble online. This is the single worst thing, it's just so completely morally bankrupt that I have a hard time fathoming it. "every body's playing "x company" bingo!". This implies that you need to throw money at them to fit in, in the hopes of maybe winning some cash inbetween your chicken tikka lasagne and your loose women. It's sad, it's horrible and it's unforgivable.
So what do we do about it? Easy. If you are using Internet explorer, then stop. Get Firefox. Once you're using that, download adblock plus here. If you see any ads after that, just right click on them and block them. No more ads! Easy. As for the tv, you record programmes or watch them online. Just skip the ads. No more, they can't touch you. Fuck 'em!
Do you receive phone calls from telesales scum? Go here. This also works for junk mail. Any company contacting you once you register is breaking the law. Get their name and report them. They will be fined and you will have done us all a favour.
Outside of this there's not much we can do. I could tell you to vandalise any billboards or hoardings you see, but that would be illegal so I won't. What I will say is that this entire industry has made some nasty fuckers very rich, at the expense of your time and money. Why give them a free ride? They are the worst people in the entire world and need to be stopped. How dare they say your life needs to be improved by giving them your money? How dare they make you feel less than anyone else because you don't own their product? Not me, I'm sick of this. I'm ad free, and I'm staying that way.
This has been a long rant, thanks for reading!
Sunday 15 April 2012
ONE YEAR OF ENGAGING BEASTMODE. IT IS STILL ENGAGED MOTHERTOUCHERS.
This time last year My life was a bit of a clusterfuck to say the least. Saying everything is perfect now would be an overstatement, but it's certainly a lot better. Here is a rundown of occurences since then.
In April last year I moved out of my mate's place. This was for a variety of reasons, and looking back I'm amazed it continued as long as it did. I was doing a job I hated, and in quite a pressurized atmosphere. The only things I really had were my ps3 and a habit of dating nutters. I still have the ps3.
It was a confusing time, and the blog posts from around then reflect this. It's quite schizophrenic really, in that there's a great deal of positivity mixed with no small amount of bile, misdirected or otherwise. This blog has always been that way (it's pretty much an outlet for my thoughts on things I just don't feel comfortable sharing otherwise), but nonetheless it's quite staggering to see the degree of change that has occurred in the last 12 months.
So, after moving out from my mate's I ended up living in a shared house in New Brighton. It was a lovely old building, with a massive room and a short walk to all the bars and friends houses I could have wished for. It seemed perfect! Was it fuck.
A week or so after moving in it became clear that moving there was a mistake. The people I lived with were not bad people, but were nonetheless quite difficult to Live with. The landlord was a very patient and friendly man, and instantly likeable. Unfortunately he was also an alcoholic with severe Tourettes, which led to many nights being kept awake while he barked (which was his particular tic) and stumbled about the place in a stupor. It was and is a very sad situation, and although there is plenty of humour to be found in it, I'm just not going to. Truth be told, I feel too bad for him to do so.
The other housemates were no less interesting, a man roughly my age who was an ex squaddie, and a young girl of eighteen. The squaddie went out of his way immediately to make me feel welcome there, the guy bought me an easter egg because I looked a bit down. He was friendly to a fault, and unfortunately that fault was BEING INCREDIBLY FUCKING LOUD. Every time I hear Elton John my hackles now raise, in loving memory of every night I was kept awake, and every day that I went to a 12 hour shift on three hours' sleep due to his bloody stereo. The stereo eventually exploded. Which is why I beleive in a compassionate and loving god.
The girl I referred to was nice enough, but very much an eighteen year old girl. She had fallen in with a bad crowd, and I found myself sticking up for her. I'm not going to talk about her too much, as it's quite depressing, and I haven't seen her since she moved. I will say that I hope she turns things around, as if I can see the good in someone, it's probably pretty obvious to everyone else.
There were two other people. One who I have no malice toward, and another whom I find so wretched that she is beyond humour. The bloke was a nice enough guy, but easily led. I got on with him pretty well, but he was also bloody noisy. The girl though? I'm not talking about her. I can joke about genuine annoyances but not when people have genuinely wronged me. I refuse to sink to her level.
Eventually, I snapped. In October, after spending maybe one or two nights a week at what was supposed to be my home, and through a combination of exhaustion and anger, I legged it. Took all my stuff, threw it in bin bags and got the hell out of there. I now live in Liverpool, and really I haven't been this happy for a long time. I remember baing able to actualy sleep for the first time in months, and within a week or so I was back to my old self. Now If you met me in person you probably wouldn't think I was the same person who writes most of these blog posts. I'm actually pretty friendly and, believe it or not I'm quite shy.
Sitting here now, looking out of the window with the sun going down behind me and a Pink Floyd bootleg playing in the background, the whole situation seems like it happened decades ago. I'm much, much happier now and it's due mainly to one person.
In May last year I met a girl, she was a bit younger than me, but we somehow just clicked. She had the most gorgeous blue eyes, and this big mess of blonde hair. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I fell for her instantly. To this day we can't stay away from each other. I've been in relationships before, but never with someone I have cared so much about. She had a way of taming the venom in me, the reason I tended to alienate people back then. A close friend has since remarked that she can now tell whether I'm being sarcastic, which both shocked and encouraged me. I mentioned her briefly in a previous blog post, but a hundred blogs couldn't begin to convey just how happy I am to have met her. When I wake up and she smiles at me, I know not only that I'm doing something right, but that I want to continue to do so.
It's not really the place to gush about how loved up I am, so I'll leave it at that, but she knows how much I love her, and I know that it's mutual. She's my princess, and I get up in the morning with the simple goal of making her happy.
It's been a cathartic time, has the last year, and I feel as though I have left a part of me snarling and foaming at the mouth by the roadside. I can't say I feel too bad about that, and no doubt the venom will surface again (which will mean less coherent and much funnier blog posts), but for now I actually know what it's like to be happy, and that to make others feel like that is a good thing.
As far as work goes, the future is far from bleak. I was laid off from a job with a debt management company for being too nice. I signed up in the belief that I would be chasing collection agencies on behalf of people who were being hassled and tormented by these immoral fuckers. In reality, I was placed on the team that chased payments from these people. I was given a mobile phone and a list of people to call and chase money from.
This was something I failed hard at. These people have nothing, and I know what it's like to be broke and hungry. I also know what it's like to struggle to get by with kids to feed. I can't be mean to these people, or hassle them, or be forceful in insisting that they pay back money to line the pockets of greedy people. People who look down on them. I know I joke about chavs and about "sub human" people, but in reality I come from a single parent family. I was lucky enough to be raised by a woman who would go to the ends of the earth for my brother and I. This has always stayed with me, and the thought of calling someone in that position and demanding money from them turns my stomach.
Needless to say, this attitude did not go down well with my former employer. However, the day after this I saw that a well known figure in the industry was advertising for new staff. These staff claim back money on behalf of their clients from major corporations. They also Pay extremely well, and treat their staff with respect. I attended that interview with my heart in my mouth, and I must have impressed them, because I was offered the job. Once I start there, I will be in a great state financially, and more importantly will have buckets of good karma to play with.
I have lost touch with friends in the last year, some for reasons best known to themselves, some for the sake of my sanity, and some due to it just not being possible to deal with them anymore. I'm not happy about any of that, but I know it's necessary, and I hope that they all find everything they want in life, and find it soon.
On a more positive note, I have gained friends in the last year. Be that getting back in touch with old friends, or making new ones, it's great to be around you all. I also have a niece, She's beautiful and so tiny, I can't wait to see her become a precocious toddler and then a great little kid. A great little kid with an uncle who is always going to be there for her, and is going to spoil her rotten. I can't even begin to express how happy I am for my brother and his fiance, and how happy I am to be an uncle.
I'm sorry that this blog post hasn't been the same rants you're used to, but I would say thanks for reading, and that you're all, without exception, deserving of being happy.
JESUS CHRIST WHAT HAS GOT INTO ME? I USED TO TELL JOKES ABOUT ETHIOPEANS. MY FORMER SELF WANTS TO BEAT MY ASS. TIME TO MAN THIS BITCH UP:
In April last year I moved out of my mate's place. This was for a variety of reasons, and looking back I'm amazed it continued as long as it did. I was doing a job I hated, and in quite a pressurized atmosphere. The only things I really had were my ps3 and a habit of dating nutters. I still have the ps3.
It was a confusing time, and the blog posts from around then reflect this. It's quite schizophrenic really, in that there's a great deal of positivity mixed with no small amount of bile, misdirected or otherwise. This blog has always been that way (it's pretty much an outlet for my thoughts on things I just don't feel comfortable sharing otherwise), but nonetheless it's quite staggering to see the degree of change that has occurred in the last 12 months.
So, after moving out from my mate's I ended up living in a shared house in New Brighton. It was a lovely old building, with a massive room and a short walk to all the bars and friends houses I could have wished for. It seemed perfect! Was it fuck.
A week or so after moving in it became clear that moving there was a mistake. The people I lived with were not bad people, but were nonetheless quite difficult to Live with. The landlord was a very patient and friendly man, and instantly likeable. Unfortunately he was also an alcoholic with severe Tourettes, which led to many nights being kept awake while he barked (which was his particular tic) and stumbled about the place in a stupor. It was and is a very sad situation, and although there is plenty of humour to be found in it, I'm just not going to. Truth be told, I feel too bad for him to do so.
The other housemates were no less interesting, a man roughly my age who was an ex squaddie, and a young girl of eighteen. The squaddie went out of his way immediately to make me feel welcome there, the guy bought me an easter egg because I looked a bit down. He was friendly to a fault, and unfortunately that fault was BEING INCREDIBLY FUCKING LOUD. Every time I hear Elton John my hackles now raise, in loving memory of every night I was kept awake, and every day that I went to a 12 hour shift on three hours' sleep due to his bloody stereo. The stereo eventually exploded. Which is why I beleive in a compassionate and loving god.
The girl I referred to was nice enough, but very much an eighteen year old girl. She had fallen in with a bad crowd, and I found myself sticking up for her. I'm not going to talk about her too much, as it's quite depressing, and I haven't seen her since she moved. I will say that I hope she turns things around, as if I can see the good in someone, it's probably pretty obvious to everyone else.
There were two other people. One who I have no malice toward, and another whom I find so wretched that she is beyond humour. The bloke was a nice enough guy, but easily led. I got on with him pretty well, but he was also bloody noisy. The girl though? I'm not talking about her. I can joke about genuine annoyances but not when people have genuinely wronged me. I refuse to sink to her level.
Eventually, I snapped. In October, after spending maybe one or two nights a week at what was supposed to be my home, and through a combination of exhaustion and anger, I legged it. Took all my stuff, threw it in bin bags and got the hell out of there. I now live in Liverpool, and really I haven't been this happy for a long time. I remember baing able to actualy sleep for the first time in months, and within a week or so I was back to my old self. Now If you met me in person you probably wouldn't think I was the same person who writes most of these blog posts. I'm actually pretty friendly and, believe it or not I'm quite shy.
Sitting here now, looking out of the window with the sun going down behind me and a Pink Floyd bootleg playing in the background, the whole situation seems like it happened decades ago. I'm much, much happier now and it's due mainly to one person.
In May last year I met a girl, she was a bit younger than me, but we somehow just clicked. She had the most gorgeous blue eyes, and this big mess of blonde hair. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I fell for her instantly. To this day we can't stay away from each other. I've been in relationships before, but never with someone I have cared so much about. She had a way of taming the venom in me, the reason I tended to alienate people back then. A close friend has since remarked that she can now tell whether I'm being sarcastic, which both shocked and encouraged me. I mentioned her briefly in a previous blog post, but a hundred blogs couldn't begin to convey just how happy I am to have met her. When I wake up and she smiles at me, I know not only that I'm doing something right, but that I want to continue to do so.
It's not really the place to gush about how loved up I am, so I'll leave it at that, but she knows how much I love her, and I know that it's mutual. She's my princess, and I get up in the morning with the simple goal of making her happy.
It's been a cathartic time, has the last year, and I feel as though I have left a part of me snarling and foaming at the mouth by the roadside. I can't say I feel too bad about that, and no doubt the venom will surface again (which will mean less coherent and much funnier blog posts), but for now I actually know what it's like to be happy, and that to make others feel like that is a good thing.
As far as work goes, the future is far from bleak. I was laid off from a job with a debt management company for being too nice. I signed up in the belief that I would be chasing collection agencies on behalf of people who were being hassled and tormented by these immoral fuckers. In reality, I was placed on the team that chased payments from these people. I was given a mobile phone and a list of people to call and chase money from.
This was something I failed hard at. These people have nothing, and I know what it's like to be broke and hungry. I also know what it's like to struggle to get by with kids to feed. I can't be mean to these people, or hassle them, or be forceful in insisting that they pay back money to line the pockets of greedy people. People who look down on them. I know I joke about chavs and about "sub human" people, but in reality I come from a single parent family. I was lucky enough to be raised by a woman who would go to the ends of the earth for my brother and I. This has always stayed with me, and the thought of calling someone in that position and demanding money from them turns my stomach.
Needless to say, this attitude did not go down well with my former employer. However, the day after this I saw that a well known figure in the industry was advertising for new staff. These staff claim back money on behalf of their clients from major corporations. They also Pay extremely well, and treat their staff with respect. I attended that interview with my heart in my mouth, and I must have impressed them, because I was offered the job. Once I start there, I will be in a great state financially, and more importantly will have buckets of good karma to play with.
I have lost touch with friends in the last year, some for reasons best known to themselves, some for the sake of my sanity, and some due to it just not being possible to deal with them anymore. I'm not happy about any of that, but I know it's necessary, and I hope that they all find everything they want in life, and find it soon.
On a more positive note, I have gained friends in the last year. Be that getting back in touch with old friends, or making new ones, it's great to be around you all. I also have a niece, She's beautiful and so tiny, I can't wait to see her become a precocious toddler and then a great little kid. A great little kid with an uncle who is always going to be there for her, and is going to spoil her rotten. I can't even begin to express how happy I am for my brother and his fiance, and how happy I am to be an uncle.
I'm sorry that this blog post hasn't been the same rants you're used to, but I would say thanks for reading, and that you're all, without exception, deserving of being happy.
JESUS CHRIST WHAT HAS GOT INTO ME? I USED TO TELL JOKES ABOUT ETHIOPEANS. MY FORMER SELF WANTS TO BEAT MY ASS. TIME TO MAN THIS BITCH UP:
Tuesday 21 February 2012
FUCK. THE FUCKERY OF FUCKITUDE FORTIFIES THE FINGERS OF FERRIS' FLAMMABLE FIESTA.
I fucking hate Ed Sheeran. You may wonder who he is. Allow me to explain!
Once upon a time about a year ago, some little prick wrote a song about some slapper in london dying from ZOMG CRACK ADDICT. This song was helped by being called "The A Team". In a cynical attempt to cash in on the nostalgia-porn cravings of eighteen year olds who pretend to remember the eighties, he coupled a OMG SO DEEP AND TRAGIC, LOL story about some girl selling her scrawny arse for crack then threw in a random reference to an eighties show which has aged like a pint of milk.
It sold like trackies in Bradford.
Next thing you know I saw the little cocksnot on the Glastonbury Highlights. Now, if you read this blog (and you should, because it is staggeringly good) then you will already know my thoughts on music festivals. Especially people who think everyone wants to hear about their weekend of fun looking at some dredded white kid flinging firesticks about. Sod that. I hate it and I hate them.
Anyway, I saw the little prick on there, whining about whatever it is and rapping while casually slapping at an acoustic guitar (also known as a "shit" guitar) and suddenly the footage cut to what must have been a nineteen or so year old girl. She was wearing a Back to the Future tshirt, fairy wings and had a butterfly painted on her face. Her face which had the expression of "oh wow, this is like, so deep, he's talking about stuff we all need to like, know about". Therein lies the problem.
You're the reason I hate him so much. I can't stand YOU. His fans. You're 19 and you can afford tickets to Glastonbury. You choose to attend despite having taste in music that even James Blunt would laugh at. You take drugs and think you're going to start a revolution, you think that the whole world can be changed if we all just chill out and smoke a spliff now and again. If we all just listened to the floppety haired minstrels who tell us whats really going on on the streets then maybe JUST FUCKING MAYBE we would be able to change the world.
I'm sure the last thoughts of a dying child in Darfur would be "fuck! I hope some musicians get here soon!".
I'm leaving it at that.
Once upon a time about a year ago, some little prick wrote a song about some slapper in london dying from ZOMG CRACK ADDICT. This song was helped by being called "The A Team". In a cynical attempt to cash in on the nostalgia-porn cravings of eighteen year olds who pretend to remember the eighties, he coupled a OMG SO DEEP AND TRAGIC, LOL story about some girl selling her scrawny arse for crack then threw in a random reference to an eighties show which has aged like a pint of milk.
It sold like trackies in Bradford.
Next thing you know I saw the little cocksnot on the Glastonbury Highlights. Now, if you read this blog (and you should, because it is staggeringly good) then you will already know my thoughts on music festivals. Especially people who think everyone wants to hear about their weekend of fun looking at some dredded white kid flinging firesticks about. Sod that. I hate it and I hate them.
Anyway, I saw the little prick on there, whining about whatever it is and rapping while casually slapping at an acoustic guitar (also known as a "shit" guitar) and suddenly the footage cut to what must have been a nineteen or so year old girl. She was wearing a Back to the Future tshirt, fairy wings and had a butterfly painted on her face. Her face which had the expression of "oh wow, this is like, so deep, he's talking about stuff we all need to like, know about". Therein lies the problem.
You're the reason I hate him so much. I can't stand YOU. His fans. You're 19 and you can afford tickets to Glastonbury. You choose to attend despite having taste in music that even James Blunt would laugh at. You take drugs and think you're going to start a revolution, you think that the whole world can be changed if we all just chill out and smoke a spliff now and again. If we all just listened to the floppety haired minstrels who tell us whats really going on on the streets then maybe JUST FUCKING MAYBE we would be able to change the world.
I'm sure the last thoughts of a dying child in Darfur would be "fuck! I hope some musicians get here soon!".
I'm leaving it at that.
Thursday 26 January 2012
MORE SHIT I CAME UP WITH BECAUSE I AM FUCKING SMART.
Right. Ideas for television shows. I should be working but the public are cretins. They consume TOO MUCH OF MY TIME. PAID OR NAY!
So these ideas then? Without further ado!
1. Lupine Loopy Tatwinner Bonanzles! In which many people throughout the land compete to win that shire they have on the back of sunday magazines. You know the types.
"LOOK AT BABY GEORGE'S DETAILED FEET! HE COSTS MANY POUNDS IN INSTALMENTS!". That shit. Anyway, people who are interested in this compete
in many events such as:
A) Knobapple. Male contestants must stick their cock in an apple, and the female contestants much eat it without causing penile injuries.
B) Shitebike: Contestants must jump over a paddling pool full of shite. The bike they use to jump is is made of glass, and they are blindfolded. The blindfold is covered in
Ether.
C) Orphan Sneakup Whingedown: Contestants have to sneak undetected up to an orphan (dickensian, none of that modern shite) and whisper "If your parents loved you,
they would still be here" in a manner so convincing it causes the orphan to weep. This is done on a council estate in Aberdeen to add some danger to the proceedings.
At the end of this all remaining contestants must insert coins into a coinstar then wave the receipt at a tramp. The quickest wins the tat. The rest?
RAPED TO DEATH BY WOLVES.
2. Joe Pasquale's Saturday Scatdown! Extremely disturbing chat show featuring Joe Pasquale squatting over an interviewee and asking his questions. While the celeb answers
Joe's bowels begin to open, his brown star emitting a log of quality brown on the chest of this poor sod. Obviously celebrities would need to be incredibly desperate
in order to appear on this show, so we can start small. Say.. Katie Price, Frankie Cocozza and the fat bully off X factor. Music By Will I. Am and Coldplay.
3. TIMECOCK. Former pornstar Max Gashraid finds a mysterious artefact allowing him to travel through time. He uses this to change history for the better. A lot like
Quantum Leap, only with popshots. Look, I'll be honest here. I just thought the name was funny.
4. Hurnlington Hall. This is some period thing where an old english luvvie looks all noble and shit for a couple of hours. There's a war happening but you don't get to
see any cool stuff like Saving Private Ryan or anything. The blokes just come home all traumatised and then the servants have a party because, you know, they're like, people
too and stuff. Basically, Downtown Abbey is popular. This is the swill you people want? Well allow me to fill your fucking Trough. We'll even get Brenda Fricker in
to make it all authentic. Throw in extra orphans. Will that make you fucking happy? Jesus wept.
Okay that's four. That's your lot. Back to work.
So these ideas then? Without further ado!
1. Lupine Loopy Tatwinner Bonanzles! In which many people throughout the land compete to win that shire they have on the back of sunday magazines. You know the types.
"LOOK AT BABY GEORGE'S DETAILED FEET! HE COSTS MANY POUNDS IN INSTALMENTS!". That shit. Anyway, people who are interested in this compete
in many events such as:
A) Knobapple. Male contestants must stick their cock in an apple, and the female contestants much eat it without causing penile injuries.
B) Shitebike: Contestants must jump over a paddling pool full of shite. The bike they use to jump is is made of glass, and they are blindfolded. The blindfold is covered in
Ether.
C) Orphan Sneakup Whingedown: Contestants have to sneak undetected up to an orphan (dickensian, none of that modern shite) and whisper "If your parents loved you,
they would still be here" in a manner so convincing it causes the orphan to weep. This is done on a council estate in Aberdeen to add some danger to the proceedings.
At the end of this all remaining contestants must insert coins into a coinstar then wave the receipt at a tramp. The quickest wins the tat. The rest?
RAPED TO DEATH BY WOLVES.
2. Joe Pasquale's Saturday Scatdown! Extremely disturbing chat show featuring Joe Pasquale squatting over an interviewee and asking his questions. While the celeb answers
Joe's bowels begin to open, his brown star emitting a log of quality brown on the chest of this poor sod. Obviously celebrities would need to be incredibly desperate
in order to appear on this show, so we can start small. Say.. Katie Price, Frankie Cocozza and the fat bully off X factor. Music By Will I. Am and Coldplay.
3. TIMECOCK. Former pornstar Max Gashraid finds a mysterious artefact allowing him to travel through time. He uses this to change history for the better. A lot like
Quantum Leap, only with popshots. Look, I'll be honest here. I just thought the name was funny.
4. Hurnlington Hall. This is some period thing where an old english luvvie looks all noble and shit for a couple of hours. There's a war happening but you don't get to
see any cool stuff like Saving Private Ryan or anything. The blokes just come home all traumatised and then the servants have a party because, you know, they're like, people
too and stuff. Basically, Downtown Abbey is popular. This is the swill you people want? Well allow me to fill your fucking Trough. We'll even get Brenda Fricker in
to make it all authentic. Throw in extra orphans. Will that make you fucking happy? Jesus wept.
Okay that's four. That's your lot. Back to work.
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