Hello, blogger, my old friend

This Christmas was not the best... Which makes me think it was probably the worst, since it's the only one I can remember that I haven't considered the "best" in the following day or two. Depressing.
Don't get me wrong, I got some amazing things... But Christmas isn't about receiving (no, I'm serious).
Ahh I didn't get as excited about buying people awesome gifts as I usually do. I didn't see my extended family much, and I've drifted from my close family in times of late. Same goes for some good friends, though not all. Had a good time with Matt n Tom watching Akira while high. And I did get to spend a lot of Christmas day with Alissa, which was doubleplusgood. She also got me some spot-on things.
I'm feeling somewhat blue, now. Probably a result of the below-average Christmas... Work today got me right down. And... Ohh...
Downloaded music a-plenty. Tom Waits, et al.
I don't know what I want to do... I feel very much like a loose end...

My room is loud.

Yet again I start bitching about how much I fucking hate everything.

I don't even know what fucking point saying it has anymore. Fucking sick of everything. I'm not sure what the point in living a life is when someone fucks you over at every possible turn. Cars broken into, mugged and beaten up numerous times, hurt emotionally, and now card fraud. £1,274 stolen from me. Fuck it. What the fuck is the point in anything.

Merry fucking Christmas, everyone.

A satisfied yawn

I sort of want to go to bed, just so I can feel well snug and know that I'm going to get about ten hours sleep. I fucking love feeling snug. "Snug" is probably one of my favourite words, too, but I feel like a spack saying it, so I don't say it often (but when I do, I enjoy it).
Haven't posted on here for a week or so, I've been sucked into FaceBook. Everyone else have abandoned Blogger. Not me, though, I love this thing. I almost put "blogging" in my activities section, but Matt said he wouldn't be friends with me anymore if I did.
I am excited about Wednesday, because I'm going to buy a new coat. A real coat, proper smart one. I'm even more excited about Christmas, even if my dad is sort of spoiling it. I don't really want to go into it, but he's turned into such an old git lately. I've also been playing City of Heroes again, partly because I realised I've been paying for it all this time I haven't been using it, so I feel I should make the most of it now.
Drove to Brighton to see Tenacious D last night, fucking amazing. I'll upload some pictures sometime.
Come to Ben Crouch tomorrow night (Tuesday 19th).
I want some new music. I grow tired of listening to the same old bands. Not that I do, really, but I'm in the mood for something I've never heard before. Preferably mellow stuff, maybe with a hint of sadness. Mmm, Sufjan Stevens. I love this one song, the rest of the album is also quite good. Bright Eyes also rule. I want something like that... Hmm...
This is freaking weird:


Alissa, I have your toothbrush.

Greg:

That general thing is pretty much the reason I don't have one of them there last fm play count doo-hickeys.
xxxxx

I tried to post that as a comment to your blog numerous times, but since you seem to have switched to the new blogger, everything is fucking up. This proves my point that when something is shoved in your face, it probably isn't beneficial to you.

Aaahhhrrrggg

I'm on the late shift at work: sure, a lie in sounds appealing at the time, but the last two hours drag on so fucking slowly. Once again I'm reminded how much I hate it here. I keep thinking of how awesome the amount of money I'm making is and how much I'll appreciate it next summer... But is it worth it? I'm seriously not enjoying this at all, and I know work isn't supposed to be enjoyed, but it's doing my head in.
Cycling is pretty demanding, too, I think I'm gonna get the train in tomorrow. I guess I'll have to ease myself into it...
I'm going to look for another job over Christmas, and this time I mean really look. I've been keeping my eye open the whole time and handing in the odd CV, but I think I'm going to be a bit more pro-active now.
I'd rather be anywhere but here right now. And what is up with this weekend taking so long to arrive???

Still got a whole hour to go, AAAAAHHHHHHH!

Spiderman is awesome

I refuse to switch to the new version of blogger simply because it is being shoved in my face so much. Every time I try to log on, the adverts get more and more abrasive. I don't want a Google account, either, Google is a search engine and nothing more, dammit.
Having a crap week. Biking is alright, but I forgot that Greenwich park closes at 6pm in winter. It's not that much of a big deal, but it adds five minutes to my journey home.
Another reason this week is crap is because I cannot WAIT for it to be over, so it feels like the days are passing extra slow. I had a day off Monday and it still feels like the weekend was ages ago.
Parents are pissing me off, but what's new there? I must also admit that I'm being a prick to them, but that's just because I can't be bothered to make the effort anymore. They don't make any effort to be nice to me unless I'm nice to them first, and they are supposed to be the mature ones. I don't like respecting people just because they are older. If anything, people should respect their youngers (which probably isn't a word) because we are the ones who are going to be in a position of power when they are dying. Damn thats harsh, and I don't mean to sound so extreme, but I'd rather have mutual respect than be forced to respect someone because they have been alive for longer. I don't care that much, but when I start ranting...
I'm REALLY looking forward to seeing Alissa, it's silly. I sicken myself at times. But WOO less than three days!
I saw this today:







I like it because I feel the same way quite often.
Christmas is almost here, I'm dreading the amount I'm working around Christmas. I still fucking hate this job more than any other period in my life so far. I would REALLY like to find a new job, but it ain't easy. I just want this year to be over SO BADLY. A third down, I guess (fuck off am I keeping this job when everyone's finished their first year at Uni). Although I s'pose the money factor is going to make next year so much easier, and I'll have quite a bit of money to have fun with in the summer, whether it be numerous holidays, a new computer, or just a shitload of drugs, I'm sure I'll enjoy it. Perhaps some combination of the three could work...
I'm quite impatient, as you may well know, and waiting for June to come is like fucking Chinese water torture for me.
There's a client of the company I work for who's name is Ching Ching Cheung. There's loads of them with amazing names, actually. Some guy's first name is Ashit. There's also someone called Gaye Whale, Wai Wah Cheung (possibly related to Ching Ching Cheung - I just wanted to say the name again, hahaha, I think his parents may have been taking the piss) and people called Welcome and Memory. Pretty much the only good part of the job is laughing at all the dickheads' names.

The silence is deafening.

CONTROL

Friday night I went to TGIs with people from work. It was interesting, to say the least. People are convinced that several "straight" men at the office fancy me. At one point, one very drunk guy grabbed my head and planted a massive wet kiss right on my lips. No tongue, but it went on for a little while. I was shocked and appalled at first, but then found it hilarious because, once sobered up, he will be way more upset than me. Closet gays, gotta love 'em. The meal was fucking delicious, but I failed to eat my huge burger in under 3 minutes, thus losing out on a fiver. Dang. NEXT TIME!
Then Saturday I picked up Simon, and after a surprisingly short journey we were "blazing" in Nicky's flat. I kept going on about how there is no way to talk about drugs in a "cool" manner. Then again, most things that come out of my mouth are sarcastic, so I'm not too bothered. Nicky's Uni friends are nice, a couple are a little iffy, but they are a nice bunch of people for the most part. I had never met a Uni student who has Parma ham and Parmesan cheese flown in especially from Italy until last weekend.
It was cool to see Nicky again after so long, but also Simon. I haven't seen him for about the same amount of time as Nicky and he only lives a 20 minute drive away.
I biked into London today; got a little lost, but made it to work in about an hour, which I think is a decent first-time time. Then I went to Euston and on to Matt's, where I got KFC and he bunked the second half of his allegedly boring lecture. Watched some Scrubs and Blackbooks. Pretty funny, I was just glad to have somewhere to sit/lay down before beginning my arduous journey home; this time I had to go UP the hill in Greenwich park, and it was dark, windy and raining. I actually enjoyed riding my bike for about four hours today, though. I'm apparently in pretty good shape already to have been able to accomplish such a journey with hardly any prior cycling experience (save for when I was about ten), so go me. Gonna get the train tomorrow because I'm going for ANOTHER (urgh) work meal after, but Wednesday is when my cycling to and from work begins.
I thought I'd be glad to be home, and I s'pose I am, but I'm pretty bored now... Ho hum.

Remix albums are usually much better than their standard counterparts.

Cheer up, fucker

I had had a rubbish day yesterday, so apologies for the over the top rant. I'm still pissed off, but the internet 'phone thing seems like a problem with my computer and I haven't actually been overcharged for my bill; it's just the price of love. I'm still irritated, but life goes on I guess. I need to remember to chill the fuck out. My bike shoul (hopefully maybe probably not) be arriving today FINALLY, so I'm going to take my anger out by cycling around I think. I plan on having a nice ride tonight; the weather seems nice. Sigh.
Late shifts at work are BORING, but at least I'm not stressed. Anyway I probably shouldn't be on here, but I don't take fag breaks (unlike everyone else), so I think I deserve five minutes off here and there.

BLAH

Thirty minutes of holding and one fruitless 'phone conversation later...

Apparently once I stop pacing and swearing, anger turns to depression. Hoorah.

FUCK THE FUCK OFF YOU FUCKING CUNT

I can't remember ever being so angry. I'm fucking sick of everyone's shit. I got an internet 'phone from Tesco today, but the software obviously doesn't work because the website is down. This annoyed me.
I swear my Orange bills come every two weeks rather than every month, and they are always £33ish, even though I'm on a £20 a month contract and I never use all my free minutes or texts, but I pay it anyway because it's less hassle than complaining and shit I guess. But today it is fucking £66.38. WHAT THE FUCK AM I BEING CHARGED £46 FOR????? FUCK YOU! So I call up to speak with an operator and get put in a queue. After ten minutes of holding, I get cut off. WHAT THE FUCK. So I call again and after another ten minutes of listening to SHIT MUSIC I get cut off again. I have been sitting here screaming to myself for half an hour now. FUCKDIVOLSDHI IM ACTUALLY HSAKING WITH RAGE. AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGG FUCKING CUNTS! I would rather have no 'phone than put up with this bullshit anymore, so If you try contacting me anytime soon and you can't get through, don't be surprised. I fucking hate this shit, I do not want to spend all my free fucking time talking to cunts who don't give a shit about me.

FUCK

Do not watch the following video

You will regret it and I will be unable to return to you the wasted four minutes and twenty-four seconds.



I'm serious.

I'M GOOFY GOOBER!

ROCK!
The Spongebob Squarepants movie is brilliant. I've never been a huge fan of the television program (although it has it's moments), but seriously, the film is absolute genius. The scene leading up to the musical finale is fantastic in it's own right, and then the actual song... Words cannot describe.
Went to Bromley yesterday to buy some things, mostly Christmas presents (in fact solely Christmas presents), met Fayeski BEAT for luncheon.
I'm not eating well at the moment. I have about two meals a day, neither of which I tend to finish. Not to mention how unhealthy most of it is.
I forgot what song it is that goes "AND THAT'S A FACT!", which is extremely annoying because I quite want to listen to it, I think. Upon Googling it, it seems that there are many songs with that line, but this one has some lyrics... Then the backing vocals say in a spoken/almost shouted tone "AND THAT'S A FACT!". Man that's irritating. [EDIT: It's Make War by Bright Eyes]
Went to a place called the BlagBar last night for Jordana's 20th Birthday, it was well good. The bar had loads of strange Hindu ornaments dotted around, and they played crazy Indian-jazz-funk-fusion music. Then Thomas Thomas played a set with two other guys, it was amazing. I felt really shitty, though, so I left quite early. Still well good.
I always think negatively of weekends seeming to go so quickly, but I am rather looking forward to several events in the future, so I guess I could think of it in a good way.
I'm having a hard time writing more music, I just keep playing the same little bit over and over, I can't seem to progress with it. I need some inspiration. I also need to tidy my room, but I lazy.
The Pick of Destiny was well good.
I think I'll have a bath now... But what to listen to...?

Yawn.

Hungry For The Rock

Tenacious D are rad'. New album, film tonight, and I'm going to see them in the flesh on December 17th with this dude from work. Should be AWESOME, even if it is costing me sixty squid and I have to go all the way to Brighton for it...
Sweet. I was in a surprisingly good mood today. I don't mind work so much while I'm actually there anymore, because I'm pretty relaxed now, in two ways: I don't care what the people there think of me, and I don't work very hard. So now all I hate are the hours, the dress code and the principle of office work. Silver lining.
My bike still hasn't arrived, which I'm pretty peeved about, I wanted to ride it to Bromley for practice tomorrow. Bah.
Uuuhhh... Yeah.
Brian Viglione has a funny name but is probably one of the best drummers ever. Checkit:


I feel sick.

So I pull out my gun...

I feel like I haven't written a real blog in quite a while, partly due to lack of internet, partly due to actually doing things outside of my room (shock, horror). I have been relatively busy lately, and it seems the future is similarly chock-full. I don't like it. I always have a good time when I'm out, I just like my own time.
I have felt even lonelier since last weekend, as I knew I would. I suppose it's a nice kind of loneliness, though.
I have been completely wasted twice in the past week and smoked a buttload of cigarettes. It was fun at the time, but once again I realise why I try not to make a habit of either of them. I don't remember much of last night, but the general mood was really good. Fayeski got me the live Dresden Dolls DVD, brilliant, and Jor got me a well cool planetarium thingy. It's wicked. Laura and Jade both got me some organic produce. Cannabis and a parsnip... It was safe to see Lav after so long, too.
Family stuff today. Was alright as far as family things go, but I really hate family things. No, hate is too strong, but I certainly don't love them. I got some cool crap. +44 album, seems good so far. My mum knitted me a ten-foot by one-foot scarf. Who knew she could knit? It's well good. Getting a bike, too. Gonna whip myself into shape by cycling to work for the next seven months. I'm gonna be mega-healthy. Assuming I stick to it, but I like to think I have a certain tenacity about myself. That was just an excuse to lead on to my next point; the Tenacious D film is out tomorrow and I should be going to BlueWater to see it. Looking forward to it. I feel this has been a sub-par blog, I need to get back into the blogging more. I also need to watch all twelve "Trapped In The Closet" videos by R Kelly, and so do you; believe me, it is so unbelievably hilarious.

Two-hundred miles seems pretty far, but they've got planes and trains and cars, I'd walk to you if I had no other way...

Exeter (Short Version)

Since I have to be up for work in seven hours, I'm keeping this brief:

Road trip to Exeter last weekend. Fucking amazing. Brilliant. Probably one of the best weekends in the history of anything. Watch the video (it's taken me two days to make because everything that could've gone wrong with it, did).




DO DO DO DOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Sigh/For F...

Yesterday I was in a well good mood, boppin' to Less Than Jake, playin' Sing Star, fuck, I even went to a pub (would you believe it?)! And my wireless router has broken so I don't have internet on laptop for the time being (hence lack of posts on here).
However, today, as the title suggests, I have had two settings: pissed off and depressed. I felt proper lonely and I don't even know why (I tortured myself with old photographs, which made it worse). Ahh I just... Ahh. I can't even fucking talk about it on here because of all the fucking outrage talking about this sort of thing causes. Fuckers, that's why I write this blog! And you took it away! And I get pissed off easily, as you can see. Gah. And I'm on the shitty downstairs computer.
Ohhhh whyyyyy do I feel like this, I fuckin' hate it, I feel so lonely, GAR.
Hung out with Fayeski BEAT all day, was rad'. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, I'm not sure) our love is strictly platonic, so I didn't feel any less lonely. I've missed Fayeski somethin' bad, though. Safe. Pizza Hut is inferior to Misos, though, which we found out the hard way. You call that service? Also, people need to be better parents if they're gonna let a baby crawl out their cunt. That was vile, but fuck it.
I wanted to write a long blog since I haven't done one for a while and probably won't d another for a while, especially since I've had quite an eventful week. Oh well.
This computer is rubbish.
...
I know I shouldn't. But if I want to, then why shouldn't I? People will tell me off, but I could give a fuck what people think. It would be a stupid idea ; I'd probably end up being all forlorn, anyway. Still, I think I want to... Even though I don't want to want to... Ahhhhh....
...
I think I'm going to go and look at more heart-tearing photographs now whilst listening to horribly depressing music.

Where is your boy tonight?...

Can you see it? Can you see the mindcircle?

Went to a hallowe'en party Friday night, it was a lot of fun. I really love dressing up. I enjoy pretending to be someone/something else. I like not being me. I don't understand how "hallowe'en" is an abbrev. of "all hallows eve". I'm fairly confident that spell check is wrong when it tells me it's spelled "hallow e'en".
My computer has been very slow lately. It also keeps disconnecting from my wireless network sporadically, even when I never have any less than 75% strength signal. It got to a point where I got very upset, so I just spent about an hour deleting and uninstalling files and programs (respectively) that I don't need, running some virus scanning programs and the like. It seems to be alright now, but I don't want to count my chickens before they've hatched.
I have been neglecting my guitar lately, I don't like it. But I wrote some words that are fairly alright, and I have a riff or two in the bank, so when I get around to it I should be able to make something out of it.
People keep telling me I seem sad. Do I?... Am I?
Went to PAINtball yesturday for Chris T's birthday; it was the most fun day of paintball I have ever experienced. Terminator style duels with Tom, death or glory suicide runs and running circles 'round Harry (quite literally) were just some of the highlights. I'm covered in bruises and it hurts to... move. Worth it, though.
Afterwards, Tom, Matt and Jenni ended up coming back to mine for a positively magical evening. Pot and fireworks and sparklers are such a sweet mix. Terrifying and breathtaking. Well good. "Don't enter the mindcircle!" Tom is hilarious. "What's that little technique you're doing?" I should/will write a song called Mindcircles.
I get a sinking feeling in my stomach every time I think of work tomorrow morning.

Sunrise, sunset, swiftly go the days.

Oh, and also...

Everyone has been slamming Jonathon Ross for saying "She's a fucking liar. We'll find out she's got two legs next!" about Mrs. what's-her-face McCartney (she lost a leg in some sort of horrible accident).


I haven't read a single reporting of this without attention being drawn to Jonathon Ross' speech impediment.

Dickheads who don't even realise what fucked up hypocrites they are being piss me the fuck off. In fact, pro-political-correctness(-gone-mad) people piss me the fuck off.

Sure, a leg injury is worse than a speech impediment, but it's pathetic when people can't laugh about themselves. What does being offended achieve? Sometimes you can't help it, I s'pose. But have a sense of humour.

Rise Against may not have had the desired reaction...

All smiles and sunshine, a perfect world on a perfect day, everything always works out, I have never felt so fucking great.

"deja vu again"

Jordana: "I think it's gay when I, a man, has boobs"
Robin Williams: "Reality is just a crutch for people who can't deal with drugs"
Bright Eyes officially win "best newcomer" in the second SJA (Sporadic Jack Awards), while Thomas Thomas wins "Best Solo Performance". 'The Sufferer & The Witness' by Rise Against takes "Best Non-Depressing Album". Jay-Z won "Best Dressed Hippedy-Hopper" for the second time.
Last night was amazing. Arrived at Charing Cross and met Jor, hopped on a tube where I talked loudly about how horrific Saw 3 is. A middle aged woman put her fingers in her ears. I apologised to the train in general loudly, so my conscience is clear. Got to Chalk Farm and walked past a huge gang of pikeys. Whimpered a little. Had a little toke, relied on Jor finding the way there with a map. Ended up getting very lost. We got there eventually, though. Got to the pub and went in.
It was the place of dreams. Fucking amazing, tiny little room with a bar in the middle and a microphone in a corner. Cozy lighting and a chilled out atmosphere. Met Thomas, hung out with him a little. Legend. Went and sat in a corner and watched a few middle aged men sing and strum their hearts out, it was beautiful. Got some apple pie and sat down again to watch Thomas Thomas play. Man, it was amazing. I can't recall being happier in recent times. Incredible, easily the best act I saw all night, and I could probably extend "night" by a considerable amount.
Mmm. I've been feeling blue again, I had to listen to Rise Against just to cheer me up enough to write this blog. It worked a treat, though.
OK, my speakers are seriously breaking now. As in they cut out completely. As I screamed at my mother rather embarrassingly (knee-jerk reaction) "IF I DON'T HAVE MUSIC, I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO LIVE FOR!" - probably true. But lack of speakers doesn't mean no music, so I'm not committing suicide anytime soon, don't worry.
Work sucks, I know.
Might buy some new speakers at the weekend - this is quite exciting.
Been let down again, but less reaction this time. It's not like I can blame anyone, people have their reasons. I made myself not build my hopes up this time, too. Got no hope, innit.

Love is just an excuse to get hurt.

Post 101

I'm in the triple-figures. Awesome. 102 if you count the one I took down.
Bright Eyes are beautiful.
It was rad to see Jenni and Olivia last night, ditto for Matt, but that's less of a rare occurrence. Smoking when you have a throat infection ain't clever, but I'll probably do it again tonight.
Seeing Saw 3 was possibly the worst decision I have ever made. Words cannot convey how truly awful it is. I still shake and whimper when I think about it. Just... Jesus.
Jesus.
It's hard to stop thinking about, but I must.
I'm going to see Thomas Thomas (of Jordana's-uncle fame) tonight. Should be hexcellent.

Oh, my, look at the time.

Test-ish again

I'm not sure if the problem is with my laptop, Blogger or Firefox, but every time I try to post a new... Post on this blog, it says "publishing" as normal, but instead of finishing and saying "successful" or whatever, it says "there were errors" or something, but seems to end up working anyway (hence why I tried numerous times and ended up with numerous posts). It's annoying.
Fuck, I had something to say, I forgot it.
Oh yeah, it was a pretty standard Carlylian (WOO) rant, only with a positive spin; sure work sucks, but at least all I have to worry about is showing up on time and leaving on time - I don't have to think too much, and outside work hours I'm pretty much free to do whatever I want. It doesn't even matter if I get no sleep or something, really; the job doesn't require too much mental capacity.

Not worth a blog, but I want to see if/how the blog is working.

Test

Firefox has let me down. Harshly.

A feeling of urgency when there's nothing to be done

That last post was an overreaction to something stupid, it just came at a time when I was in a rubbish mood. I blame hormones.
Did you know that males have a "time of the month" as well? It's true, just because they don't menstruate doesn't mean they don't have hormone cycles.

GAY!

You raised my hopes and dashed them quite expertly

I hate relying on people. I don't know why I do it. Every time someone says they will call, or meet me somewhere at a time, or do fucking anything, I believe them, every fucking time. Why? Every time I get let down. How the fuck can I still have hope that anyone will ever come through for me?
Alright, so it doesn't bother me when people are late for an actual reason, but shit, you can't actually depend on anyone for anything. I already know you can't trust anyone, so why do I keep building up my hopes and trusting people?
Like, someone says they will call me, why do I actually bother keeping my mobile telephone about my person? Fuck, why do I look at it every five minutes? I'm such a fool.

This cough is getting on my last nerve, too.

So sick, so sick of being tired and oh-so tired of being sick

I haven't been healthy since Reading. I had a chest infection a few weeks back, you may recall, now I have a throat infection (I'm pretty sure - Alex does and she has the same symptoms as me), so fucking hooray. I'm off work, but actual sick days suck because they are boring. Sick-of-work-days are a different matter, but this is a sick day. Also, not being able to sleep is the worst kind of ill. I'm gonna try and book a doctor's (is that apostrophe right? I only want the one doctor and I'm sure there's supposed to be an 's' there) appointment when the surgery opens in seven minutes (read: when the people have opened th surgery in about half an hour), because, as the title would suggest, I'm sick of being, well, sick.
So last weekend I went to a work party; oh dear. It was boring (but maybe that's just because I wasn't smashed like everyone else), and no-one really knew me. The small few who made the effort to talk to me quickly gave up when they realised my responsiveness was limited to "yeah", "no" and "hah..." (owing to three joints). This dude from Manchester called Owens is probably the nicest guy I work with (not to say none of the others are nice, I just don't know them as well). He arrived at the party and shouted "SLACK (that's me)! GIVE ME A HUG!" - legend. Plus he speaks funny, like all "northeners".
I got my spetum pierced, as you will know if you follow this blog. Jordana wanted an industrial/scaffold piercing, she's got two rings in at the moment, going back for the bar in a few weeks. I wandered through Camden smoking a joint, it was fun. I must do it more often. Some black guy shouted "HEY!" to me, and when I looked round, he gave me a knowing smile, nodded and said "what you smokin'...?". I laughed and nodded back. I absoloutely love it when the phrase "you can't judge a book by it's cover" is appropriate, because to be honest (THB), you usually can (I just realised, this makes me sound like a horrible racist - I neglected to mention that he was a scary looking rudeboy, I didn't mean I was surprised that a BLACK was actually NICE).
Awesome, it's 8.02am and I just booked a doctor's (?) appointment for 9.20am. That's brilliant.
Oh yeah, Sunday Jenni lost her rugby match, but the other team were PRICKS, so we were the real winners. Then in the evening I went to Misos/The Greyhound with Spanner from Office. It was sweet to have a catchup, haven't seen her properly for about seven months.
I couldn't sleep the other night, so I watched series one of Peep Show, then ate beans on toast. I decided that I'm definately going to have a nervous breakdown at some point in my life, they seem like such a lark.
Anyway, once again I have actually enjoyed posting on this blog, so thanks for reading.

Snot, snot, snot, wipe, PAIN, snot, snot, snot...

Yawn.

It isn't fun when you have a cold if you have your septum pierced. Trent Reznor once had his done; he allegedly took it out for that very reason. I'm not going to take mine out, simply for the fact that it cost me £30 and a lot of pain, so I want to make the most of it.
Snot, snot, snot, wipe, PAIN, drip, drip, drip...
I keep thinking it's Thursday night. Fuck. At least I'm only a day out now, though.
Recorded three songs over the past two days, I'm quite proud of them; even if my voice isn't brilliant, it could be a whole lot worse.
Blaaah, I'm in one of those "don't-know-what-to-listen-to" moods. Irritating. Guess I'll check out this 'Chiodos' business, Simon seems to enjoy it.
Boring. Life is boring.

"What's a Nereid?"
"I dunno, what's a Chiodo?"

Why is my arm wet...?
Less people read this every day, I'm glad you still do.

Bath time.

God-damn, crazy rebel kids.

Sunday, had a wonderful day involving an old face and shivering in the freezing rain. I'll blog about actual events later, though...
I asked my mum, hypothetically, how she would feel if I were to get another piercing, but one that she didn't have to see.
Her and my dad went into their usual "talk at Jack like he's a fucking retard for even considering that", I try explaining that they simply don't understand because they aren't part of that culture, but they just say "that's because it's pointless and there's no reason why you would get a piercing."
So I said how religion to me seemed pointless, and I don't see why people believe, but that doesn't mean there is no reason to believe, I just can't see it. In the same way, it isn't that piercings have no reason, they just simply can't see it.
Just because you don't understand a lifestyle choice (not even a major one, I don't really want to be a girl or anything like that), does not make it wrong.
They anger me.

Rewind: Saturday, I did this:

I have been poking it up my nose, so my parents haven't seen it yet. won't they be pleased.

ROCKNFUCKINROLL

Do phrases beginning "I wonder if..." merit a question mark?

Next month will be the first birthday in my awareness that I have not been looking forward to.
"I'm gonna stay eighteen forever"
You can't stop time, and you can't live forever. I don't want to. I just don't want to be an adult. I'm terrified of responsibility, that's partly why I hate my job so much.
Ironically, I can't wait to feel independent and free... All I want is a job that I can handle with enough money to survive on.
I don't understand these "big-shots" who earn loads but work pretty much 24/7. My boss at work is off sick all week, and he keeps e-mailing people about work... Working to live is one thing, I never want to live to work.
"We get by just fine here on minimum wage"
"What have I become, my sweetest friend?"
"Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar"
If it weren't for music, I don't know what I'd do.

I wonder if I'll read this back in a few years and feel embarrassed...("?"?)

Too much sleep, if anything.

"Weight Watchers" should be called "Fat Losers". Think about it.
Haven't got much else to say. I'm fuckin' tired, I suspect it's from getting too much sleep, since I've been getting about nine hours every night for the past week. I didn't even know there was such a thing as "too much sleep" until about five people said it to me today independently.
Someone told me they decided against taking Physics at University because the lecturer looked like a proper mad scientist. I'm now looking forward to it all the more.
I'm enjoying the Vex Red album, but I haven't listened to it enough to distinguish songs yet.
"See photo's of meteor showers" - ON THE BBC WEBSITE! THE FUCKING BBC! FUCK!
Idiots.
"You are the pain, you are the hurt, you are the hate"
I love when the same line in a song is repeated.
I haven't got a piercing for a while, 27 is spurring me on.
Fuse just blew. Baths in the dark are less fun than I would have thought. It tricks you into thinking you're colder than you are.

It's music time.

Can't Smile

... Is a fucking amazing song. (L)Goths(L)
Mmm, playing music calms me down. If music be the food of love, I must be emotionally obese.
I just tried to tidy my room for the first time in a long time, and it turns out I no longer have sifficient wardrobe space. So my room looks messy still. I hate posessions, I wish I could bring myself to get rid of most stuff in my room. But I love stuff. My room is quite awesome, actually. At a glance: Less Than Jake inflatables, Wolverine comics, various musical instruments, The Aeneid (I really should read that)...
My speakers are getting worse. Bass drums now sound like clicks.
I figured something this morning: this job is probably going to make me a stronger person... After, I'll be able to look back, hopefully a better person; but none of this will ever happen if I don't learn to deal with it. If I moan about it for a few months then quit, I won't have learned from my experience at all. Life IS shit, you need to learn how to cope with that rather than learn to escape. I'll never be happy as long as I'm working here, but fuck, how many people in the world ARE happy? Everyone keeps saying it's only for a year. Fuck that, a year is a long time. But I realise now that it is still only time, and time passes. I'm no more cheerful than I have been, but complaining gets you nowhere.
People piss me the fuck off, too. Getting pushed by people every day is driving me nuts, but I hope, in time, I'll learn to deal with that in a way that doesn't result in my imprisonment... WITHOUT killing myself.
Even if I am totally miserable, I'd rather be The Man In Black, silent and sorrowful type than the whiney little dick that I have resembled for most of my life so far. This blog doesn't count, though, this little outlet keeps me going sometimes.
This is less vague, but if it were more so, it would be rubbish. No-one would understand, so I'd explain and then they would realise it was boring.
That last part didn't really need to be said.
I forgot about my tattoos again.


"What's there to smile about?"

I caught you a delicious bass.

As usual, Friday night was one of my fleeting moments of happiness of the week, although Saturday was pretty much on a par. Sitting beneath the stars is the best place to be, clouds spoil it even when you aren't really paying attention to the sky. The company is pretty much perfect.
Apparently, I walk like a robot. This can only be a good thing.
We made a foreign couple happy by giving them our tickets to go on the biggest slide. It says a lot about the society we live in when they didn't understand why I was holding tickets out towards them, then when they finally accepted them they didn't realise they were a gift. They seemed pleased; made me feel good. Altruism is a fallacy.
It's rare to find someone who understands everything you say without needing to explain it.
Spoke to an old friend on the 'phone. I wasn't upset as a result, at least not in the way I thought I would've been. I was civil and pleasant, but honest. A good way to be, I reckon.
The bigger they are, the harder they fall; interestingly, once they've fallen, they can still be big enough to tower over the rest...
I'm not sure if this blog is so vague that no-one will understand it (thereby causing the small few who read anymore to stop), or not vague enough to make more people angry at me (thereby causing the small few who read anymore to stop). I'm not sure I care, but I think I should.
Made a load of badges, amazingly fun.
Nothing seems worth doing.
"I am too busy to have friends, a lover would just complicate my plans" - it's strange how much wisdom sometimes comes out of my speakers with perfect timing. Thus proving, once again, that music is the only God for me.
Getting stoned in graveyards is fun; once a Goth, always a Goth.

Goodbye.

Are we there yet?

"There is blood in my mouth from trying not to speak" - that lyric played just as I thought "I won't bother posting another blog tonight", I know I moan a lot, and I'm trying to moan less and all, but I've always believed that bottling up feelings is bad. I'm the last person in the world to believe in fate, but the lyric was certainly well-timed. I haven't much new to say. My superiors at work are noticing that I'm a little down in the dumps, I seem to be going downhill. It does feel like it's got worse again. AFI was amazing. Had I been less stoned I might've cried when they played This Time Imperfect. What a gay.
I seem to spend my evenings dreading the next morning.
I've got the Plus 44 song on repeat. It certainly isn't helping.
"This is where the road crashed into the ocean".
Yeah, let us indeed slit our writsts and burn down something beautiful. I could probably quote every line if this song. It's making me feel like I did last month again. Only different.
I feel lonely, I rarely see peers. It's so strange to not be around people your age for days. I feel quite misunderstood and outcast in my job. I got Alex, actually. But we mostly talk in light-hearted humour over an instant messenger.
Blaaa blaaaaaaa blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, this is so uninteresting. Sums up my life (fuck, moan, moan, moan!).
I wish I could see the stars better.
I can't believe it's been a month. Less than a month.
I don't want to die, I just don't really want to live anymore.

Not really worth reading.

I still can't stop wishing I was at University.
I know it's for the best in the long run, but I never think about my life 'in the long run'.
I'm bored of saying this, but it's all that's ever on my mind.
My basic beef with life at the moment (ie this job) is how I don't really have any freedom.
Shut up, everyone is tried of reading about this bollocks. Hell, I'm even tired of writing about it.
But I have nothing else to write about.

Comin' to you, one-thousand beats per minute.

I've spent the last week writing and recording some new songs, and I was getting really into it. Everytime I came up with a clever little lyric or a decent sounding riff I would get really excited and try and build on it, practice it, turn it into a song, and record it. Now I've laid down three songs on tape, plus a re recording of Means To Me (which has a stupid title), and listening back to them, they sound somewhat... Shabby. I know it's only a home recording, but ahh. Something missing perhaps? I considered adding some drums (soft machine) and maybe some keyboard, but my initial reason for doing this was as an acoustic project. I know I shouldn't let old ideas stand in the way of innovation, but I'm only turning away from the acoustics because I don't like how it's coming out. Maybe the songs are alright, I could have just overlistened to them and scrutinised them too much. I wasn't expecting them to come out sounding professional, I s'pose. I'll keep at it for a while longer and upload the best few. I enjoyed making it, but I'm not experiencing the sense of satisfaction I usually get after spending ages creating something. Hmm. You can't rush art, maybe I just need more time. Maybe I'll use this as a starting point and just record shit all year untill I end up with 10 or so songs that are actually good. Yeah. I like that. It's not like I'm doing much else this year. I WILL keep at it then. Thank you, I'm glad we had this talk.
It's really wierd that I feel better after consoling myself. I do know me better than most, I guess it makes sense. Does make me look like somewhat of a wack-job, though... Even better!
I'm jealous of Matt and Hauwa (it was great to see her after so long), all independent and what-not. I do believe that my year out was a good idea and I think it'll do me good. But MAN do I wish it was over already.
Beck is good, but what's new? The Information didn't exceed expectations, but it met them perfectly.
The titles of my Blogs have ceased to become a quote, lyric or original saying from myself relating to the content of the blog, and turned into "I'm currently listening to a song. Here is a line from this song."

And you love it.

I've got Kitty Pride and Nightcrawler, too.

I spent £80 last night, now I need to learn how to roll. I know the technique, I'm just a bit cack-handed. Also tobacco is more expensive than I thought.
I need to watch Amelie soon, too, but I never watch films alone, they take up a lot of time. Jor'll need to force me. A woman sat with me at work all day today do log what I do and when (Jack finished the statements at 9.44am and went to the restroom, returning at 9.50am, a long time to ‘powder his nose’!” FUCK YOU!), and the work I do is somewhat sporadic (I'd think I had ADHD sometimes if that wasn't a made-up, bollocks condition attached to little shits who weren't raised right (even though I was), but I suppose my attention span is just considerably shorter when it comes to boring shit at work), I'm worried I'll get in trouble for not doing enough. I guess I'm pretty lazy, but can you blame me? Well, yes, but the job doesn't suit me (even co-workers agree). It isn't supposed to be fun, though; it's WORK. Yeah but fuck you, I'm 18, life is supposed to be fun at this point. I'm gonna stay 18 forever. I hate "maturity"; why the fuck should I start being sensible and reasonable just because everyone else is? I'm gonna go straight from adolescent (pro-typical nonconformist) "rebel" to senile; fuck middle age and all that shit. I realise I'm not really a rebel, resistance is futile, I'm barely original, I like to think I'm interesting at times to a certain extent, but so are most people (otherwise conversing would be more defunct than it already is). But I never want to act a certain way just because I feel I have to. I will react to a situation according to my own judgement, thanks.
Also, if I smoke my earnings away this year, hopefully the senility will have an early onset... as in before I hit 21. I'm gonna be the best fuckin' physicist ever. My hero is probably Professor Farnsworth, no matter how fictional he may or may not be. I'm rambling, so that's a good start.
Where was I?
Mmm, I need to calm down again. People really do piss me off so much, why is that? Why does no one else see how fucking ARGH people are/can be? Or, why am I the only one who cares so much?
Someone give me a decent paradox, and then someone else suggest a philosophical point tom muse about.

Now… Well go on, what are you still reading this for? Post a freaking comment! Don’t read the bit below, just post a comment!

..

Reverse psychology, innit, sucker. I knew curiosity would get the best of you. Now comment.

Love Like Winter

Jenni's rugby was cool today, she scored a tri (I think that's how it's spelled), well done. Good to see Matt, Buggsy was on top form. The rain was fun, I love autumn. "Best Friend" by Weezer is one of the happiest songs I know, it got me down earlier. I've got a massive dcuppaz#, I need it.
My speakers are breaking, might have to get some new ones.
I've set up an old four-track recorder and some microphones and junk in a tidy corner of my room, my own little recording studio. I'm slowly but surely pulling together a collection of solo, mostly acoustic stuff. I hope to have most of them laid down by the end of the week, I'm still writing some. I hope my voice won't sound as bad when I'm not playing simletaneously. I might even double track it here and there, but my "four" track struggles with anything more than two layers, so maybe not. Either way, my voice isn't terrible I suppose. I'd still rather sing it badly myself than have to rely on anyone else anyway, so fuck critics, you can kiss my whole ass-hole (word to Jay-Z).
I got a Wolverine graphic novel. It's brilliant, he is definately one of the best comic characters of all time. Fuck the movie (although Hugh Jackman did a good job), he is so much cooler in print. Ahhh, but I won't rant.
Bought some new clothes also today, Primark is so cheap. Cords, two polo shirts and an AMAZINGLY comfortable zip-up hoody, all for £18. Brilliant. I'm annoyed that I only spotted the belts for £1 on my way out.
I'm gonna go make some music now.

Here it's December every day.

Everyone I know goes away, in the end...

Alex and Becka (and to a lesser extent Tom Parsons) are all rubbish for not agreeing with everything I say. But it was nice of Becka and Tom to not object when I tagged along with Alex when they came to meet her for lunch. "I'm blogging this" - I can't remember what I said that about, unfortunately. Maybe it was about Alex's inappropriate comment about me and this blog.
I'd very much like to get out of this life. Every day has become such a monotony drenched repeat of the one before. I'm struggling not to become another mindless drone (it isn't very hard, the majority of people just love to conform) by pushing the limits of what is meant by "smart-casual".
So I hear that dogs are killing babies these days. So where were the parents when two dogs snuck into the pub and took their unatended, five month old child? What kind of parents would leave their baby alone in a pub? In fact, what kind of parents would take their baby to a pub?
I feel very isolated from the world. I don't communicate with anyone much, anymore. It isn;t even that I don't try, I've been texting a few people here and there, I usually get a monosylabic reply, if at all. I'm not saying they don't care, maybe they do, maybe they don't, it just feels like everyone's moving on wile I'm stuck on repeat. Is that a song lyric? It sounds familliar.
Ahh, Trent. He always knows what to say. I have been neglecting Justin lately, I still love him. I don't like when people think Johnny Cash wrote Hurt and Nine Inch Nails covered it.

But I do love both versions of Hurt. And William Shatner.

Nice and relaxing

Today has been nicely chilled. I wrote the begginnings of a song last night, not sure I like it anymore, though. I wrote an entirely new one today. I managed to get a musician's account on myspace. I'm not a great singer, I just enjoy making music and it's easier to have myself singing badly than to have to rely on anyone else. So here you go. Make of it what you will.
I'm still not in a foul mood, which is good. Hopefully I'll make it through the week without reverting. I wrote a blog last night, I forgot what I wrote. Everyone's gone to uni, or is leaving soon (I think I said that) which sorta sucks, but it means I'll have lots of time to myself, which I enjoy in a twisted way. I can write as much music as I please. I've still got Fayefaye and Jenni, among others, anyway, so I'm not actually that alone at all, I s'pose (since they are two of me best friends). I so wish I was going to uni now, though. Mainly just for the independance. Sure, it's nice to be catered for at home... But I like being alone sometimes, and that's hard with a family. At least I get on with them on the whole, though...
Anyway I'm gonna go write some more tunes, I'm loving it.

Peace out, y'all.

The Shining scared me, softcore.

Being HARDCORE! is quite dangerous and may result in injury.

I'm enjoying my acoustic/piano solo music at the moment, decided to make a MySpace for it (it's the quickest and easiest way of putting your music on the 'net... Let's be honest, we all know soundclick and purevolume are inferior), but it's being really irritating and not letting me create a profile. "There was an error processing your request, please try again." Grr. Oh well, not like people are clamouring to hear my music anyway. I will be the next biggest-thing-since-sliced-bread, though. One day...

Got some cool new shit today. Spending money on myself is (one of) the most shallow thing(s) that cheers me up. I'm feeling quite positive lately, as in yesturday and today. Bowling was good, as is hangin' wit' 27. Word to that. My job still sucks, but not much I can do about it really. Everyone's gone/going within a week ot two to university now pretty much, so it's not like if I was unemployed I'd have much of a life. One problem is that I don't identify with my co-workers, because they are so much older than me, and because I don't identify with the general population.

I'm enjoying Weezer. I've only ever listened to the newer album, I think it's about time I gave the older stuff a chance.

I don't have a whole lot to say when I'm in an alright mood. I'm thinking about how I keep changing my appearance so much. It's getting on my nerves, as always. I think I need to embrace being a geek and give uo the black nailvarnish and stuff. I only do it to be outrageous these days anyway. And anyone who overthinks this much is clearly a nerd. Also, autumn is here, which means scarves, jumpers, coats and other adorable geek-chique bullshit that I love so much. So hooray!

So I says to Greg, I says...

"I want to be more like this, more like that, etc. Why can't I just stop fucking caring and be happy with who I am? And then that itself is saying "why can't I be more like this?"
Fucking paradox...... Whats the plural of paradox?"

I want a dcuppaz#.

My keyboard is fixed.

SO Richard Hammond (or however you spell it) was in a car accident trying to break the land speed record, I hear. This is quite sad, but far more tragic things happen every day, why does this make the headlines? Because he's a celebrity. Like Steve Irwin. Thousands die every day, why do we care more about famous people? That's a stupid question actually. But the reason I don't like all the attention they get is because it isn't "shocking" as so many people claim; if you fuck with deadly animals and speeding vehicles every day of your carreer, something is bound to go wrong eventually. Sure, no-one expected a sting-ray to be the end of the "crocodile hunter", but still. Play with fire and you're gonna get burnt. Burned? One of the two; the gramatically correct one. I hate posting a second blog right after a video, I feel it distracts from it; please watch it after you've read this.
On my way to work this morning I could hardly breath. My chest felt like I'd inhaled a few knives. I guess I'm not all better. So I probably won't be going anywhere tonight, which SUCKS because I've already paiud for what sounds like it's going to be an awesome party. I was also listening to PHM by NIN, FUCK what an amazing album. It is NOTHING like you would expect from the name "Nine Inch Nails", so if you haven't heard anything from them, or even if you haven't heard anything from Pretty Hate Machine, I implore you to do so. Specifically listen to 'That's What I Get'. Masterpiece.
I had something else to say, but I forget.

Everyone watch the video!

... To End All Wars.

Check MATE.

Break yo' fuckin' face tonight (it's just one o' those days)

Christ.
I went to sleep last night in such a refreshing mood. After a lovely telephonecall with Hauwa that left me cheery, I listened to "Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)" by Baz Luhrman (Presents), and it gave me a sorta perspective. Made me think about life. I've been complaing a lot about everything lately and I'm not sure I like it. I've been getting angry over the most trivial things and I've generally been foul-mooded. I decided that no, I'm gonna realise that this achieves nothing; just let go.
But today was a wonderful reminder of why I fucking hate everything and everyone (clearly, I'm exagerating, fuckwit).
ARGH! That's all I have tosay about today. ARGH! No I don't, I got a whole fuckin' blog to say (thought you'd escaped? fat chance, fat fuck):
First off, waking up half an hour earlier was harder than expected. Ahh, I can't be fuckt with the trivial stuff:
At work, about £10,000 got paid into the wrong person's account (who promptly withdrew it and ran away) in my handwriting. Shit.
My keyboard on my laptop is broken. This means I have no life. Yeah, it's pathetic, but I do spend most of my free time on my laptop. So fuck, fuck, fuck.
I downloaded a Star Wars game, at the advice of Tom. Looks brilliant. Took 13 hours to download. All day I've been thinking "at least I can play my game when I get home". Install it. Restart computer. Single-player mode doesn't work. Error, or some shit. FFFFFUCK YOU!
See, it's days like this that I think maybe there is a God: "Oh, life isn't so bad I guess..." *uh-oh... SMITE, SMITE, SMITE!*
Fucker.
And then there's the whole Matt's-blog's-comments-fiasco. I don't know what to say. It's all a bit silly. It's quite obvious how everyone reading my best friend's blog is going to feel, and I'm pretty happy that people are supporting me, even if it is in, shall we say, "unorthodox" methods. Arguing about typos is stupid, and just because someone doesn't agree with the opposing side doesn't mean they are necessarily agreeing with you. It's also not wise to thank someone who says "I don't hate sluts," that's basically admitting to being a slut.
Then again calling someone a cunt is pretty harsh, even if I maybe do ever-so-slightly agree. But like I said, it is on my best friend's blog, I'd be pretty upset if sympathy was found there of all places. But I'm not saying I want people to be horrible. I'm not bothered by the anonymity, it's the only way to keep the uppser hand, really, so anonymouse isn't a proud moron. And cowards are usually the survivors... I dunno. My morals are pretty fucked up. But morality is a concept created by mankind, so outside our petty lives it doesn't really exist; so what's the point in it? Argue with that, let's get another decent philosophical debate going. I'm rambling now, but that's just because I'm going to be kciked off here at some point. I've lost the freedom to blog at will, so I'm getting in all I can, while I can.
Also, Alissa accused (or heard that it was) Jordana, regarding the afforementionned "anonymouse", which upset me. I dunno who is starting rumours about it, but everyone, shut the fuck up with gossip. Argue online if you must, in person if anonymouse comes forward and admits it (even though they could be lying), but Jesus, it's OBVIOUS why people feel the way they do. If you play with fire you're gonna get burnt. So throwing napalm isn't smart. Anyway, I'm officially not taking sides, please direct any comments to my attourney, Hauwa.
I'd like to reiterate (if that is, indeed, how it is spelled): fuck the world.
Ok well, I've run out of things to say... Oh, well done Jenni, Old Dunstonians beat the other losers 10-5 (apparently, I couldn't keep track) in their first ladies' rugby match on Sunday; it was a rad' day. I look forward to many more games.
And bring on fucking autumn already, summer freaking SUCKS, I'm tired of being hot.

ENOUGH!

Thomas and I

Tom seemed to have some bitterness in his last video... I am responding accordingly. Please enjoy:

A Tale of Two Friends


Take THAT, jive-sucker.

Bloggin', bloggin', and I hope ya like bloggin', too.

I blog a lot, s'pretty cool. I might read over some of my old posts in a minute (after all, my favourite subject matter is myself). Got more ideas for videos, stay tuned. My mum is annoyed with me for wanting to take a day off work tomorrow even though I am genuinely ill. she is without reason sometimes.
I love blogging. I never would have thought it'd be my thing. I'm not much of a writer or reader (bad as that is), but it's been half a year nearly and I'm still typing away at this thing.
Gonna go away to Canada in January mit Jordana hopefully, then to California(aaaaaaaaaaa) in March with Fayeski BEAT, yo. Excelent. I also might quit my job in the new year and find a job that suits my needs more (i.e. don't tell me what to wear, doesn't requite a commute and isn't as stressful or boring). Obviously not many people actually enjoy their job, but this is hell. I'm gonna hold on for as long as possible, though, because the money is really good.
Avenged Sevenfold are good, also, Waking the Fallen is quality. Fuck you, Tom, you're just plain wrong.
Blog, blog, blog, I love this shit! I could never keep a diary, but I dunno. I feel like I'm being heard. Even though I type as if no-one else is going to read it. It's brilliant. Perhaps there's a writer in me, waiting to get out (although judging from the comments on my Romeo and Juliet blog, perhaps not. I did "rape it of all literary value").
Anywho... I really want to quit my job, but the money... The money! I've totally sold out. There's a war waging in my head constantly. Bah.

To Canada!

Introducing...

The Amazing Worm!
My old love for making movies was rekindled when I saw Tom's latest video; it's pretty good, just like being back at Bullers, watching Tom play with paint (only at double speed with a decent soundtrack).
I am currently in the process of editing a short-film of sorts (as in it's about 20 minutes long). It's taking ages and it isn't fun to do. It's a chore. The only reason I make videos is because I enjoy doing so. So at midnight I decided to make a new little "Jack" video. By 2am it had been a basic idea, then a concept, then a set plan, then a storyboard in my head, then I shot it, whacked it all together, came up with some more and shot that, smacked it all in, chose a song and bam! It was finished. Gay old Windows Movie Maker took a fucking hour to actually save the fucker, though; damn you, Microsoft. But it's now uploaded and ready for you all to drool over. It's only short, but I took about 350 photos to make, so appreciate it! It isn't hilarious, it isn't that artistic, hell, it's barely even original, but I had a blast making it, so expect more. ENJOY!

The Amazing Worm in "Foraging"

I'm not arrogant, I'm just right

OK so there's this thought process that's been in my head for a while now, but I have trouble explaining it in the way I want. People always argue with it, but it isn't my opinion, it's an observation.
Basically, it's about how people call me arrogant because I always think that what I believe is right.
But this is a ridiculous notion because the term "believe" pretty much means "what you think is right".
I believe I am in my room. Because I think, based on evidence, that I am in my room. I am going to say "I am in my room" because I think I'm right. I believe it, therefore I think it's right.
This means that everyone thinks they are right. It is not possible to believe what you believe is wrong, that's a contradiction, and a really obvious one, too.

I don't think I've explained this very well. If you disagree then it means I haven't because, like I say, it's an observation, not opinion (although I suppose you can disagree with the observation, but I don't think many people understand what I'm trying to get at, they usually just say "no, because what if you lose your faith?" - well then obviously you believe you WERE wrong, you don't continue believing in a God you don't believe exists).

Darn my inarticulacy.

Pity Me More

It's four hours after I woke up soaked with sweat. I decided to try sleeping again. My bed is still wet. Fuck.

Pity Me

This is the first time in a long while I've written a blog out of boredom. Lately I have been pretty busy or had something that I wanted to say in here. Right now I just can't sleep and the last decent person on my MSN list just went to bed. So this is all I have left.
I like blogging. I'm not the most articulate person, but I really enjoy writing... Even though this isn't particularly ground-breaking stuff, I'm having fun.
I can't sleep because I think I have pneumoania. I enjoy saying that because it sounds really bad. Self-diagnosed, but I think I'm justified:
"People with infectious pneumonia often have a cough that produces greenish or yellow sputum (yep) and a high fever (yep) that may be accompanied by shaking chills (yep). Shortness of breath (yep) is also common, as is pleuritic chest pain (yep), a sharp or stabbing pain, either felt or worse during deep breaths or coughs (both). People with pneumonia may cough up blood (no), experience headaches (yep), or develop sweaty and clammy skin (which is why I can't sleep)." - Wikipedia
I went to bed at 1.30 am and woke up in pain at about 2.30. My beadsheets and duvet and pillow and hair were all soaked with sweat. Not just damp, but wet enough to squeeze drips out of. Mmm. So I got frustrated, as I always do when I don't get a decent night's sleep. No one can sleep in a wet bed, and I didn;t really know what to do about it. I decided to go on my laptop for the first time in about four days (and found about a million MSN messages - sorry) and it's now 6.12 am. admittedly I did have a shower at one point, but that only took 15 minutes.
I miss this, being able to stay up all night. I fucking hate my job. I wish I could afford to quit. I keep telling myself "only ten more months," but this past one month has gone depressingly slowly. I really hate my job. I say it a lot, but I don't think anyone understands just how much I hate it. I know: "well stop whining and quit then"; it's not that simple. I need to give my parents quite a lot of money a month, and if i want any cash for myself for petrol and so on, I need to keep it. At least for now. I think I said this before but if I ever did have a soul, it's dead now.
Anyway now my sleep pattern is totally fukt, meaning next week will probably be worse than usual, aside from Titbox on Wednesday. I might take time off work, I am pretty sick. It pisses me off that I booked a holiday for Wednesday when I'll probably be too ill to work then anyway.

Delving Further Into Newspapers (Or Not)

I meant to write this in the blog I posted earlier, but it slipped my mind and I was in a slight hurry; the bath was waiting. I do see what Greg means about newspapers making him think more, if anything, but I agree with Steve, people do just bury themselves in it. Reading a news article doesn't always invoke deep thought within me, and I usually forget all about the topic by the time I'm home. I'd much rather contemplate within my own mind, think thoughts that are my own. I do listen to music, so I'm not bothered by others around me (well, I am, but I can ignore them a little better), and I suppose this can lead my thoughts in the same way a news article can, only I feel more passionately about music than printed word.
Is it wierd to just listen to music? If I were to sit in a room, doing nothing but listening to music (and thinking again), would I be considered strange? I think I would (perhaps not, perhaps it's me, not society, with the inhibition); but I am stimulating one of my senses. People sit in rooms doing nothing but watching television and this is perfectly normal. They are stimulating two senses, not one, but they are also probably thinking less, or thinking about less meaningful things. This is not to say television is rubbish (I don't love it, though), as there are decent, thought-provoking programmes and some films are pieces of art in their own right, I just don't understand why just listening to music is "wierd" (in the eyes of society (or not, I could be wrong)), but just watching TV is almost expected of people in the western world. That's what I thought about while not reading a newspaper today. Maybe some of you think my thoughts are stupid, maybe I should stop refusing the free papers shoved in my face up to four times on my walk to the tube station.
Lav, insightful as ever, I do agree with what you said about people's comments; it was just phrases such as "i hate that blog it sucks... this is dire" that shocked me and caused a knee-jerk reaction of being offended.

I'm going to bed.

My best friends think I'm just humping guys... Alright.

I don't know who posted anonymously on my R'n'J blog, but I like 'em.
Greg's right: Plan B is awesome.
When I write openly about my feelings on here, people say I shouldn't.
When I attempt some sub-text, people don't get it and criticise/insult me.
Why is it only raining at night, lately? I want to be awake to experience it.

That's all for now.

Misery Is The River Of The World

Three blogs in one day, you lucky fuckers.
professorterror.co.uk is no more. I discovered streamline.net had taken a total of about £150 from my bank account on friday, which, needless to say, pissed me off. I sent them an e-mail thing asking them what the blooming heck was going on. Apparently I had not one, but two free-three-month-trial accounts with them. Hmm, yes, I remember now. But why would a free-three-month-trial account cost me £75? Well, that's easy, silly! It CLEARLY says in the terms and conditions that if you do not upgrade your account or cancel your account before the three months is up, they will very kindly automatically upgrade your account for you. Isn't that nice? Of course, the default upgrade is obviously the most expensive. I think that's really sneaky; if you don't tell them not to, they will take loads of money from your bank account. Rude. So after A long e-argument, I finally got my money refunded, but after that I didn't feel like buying something from them, so I just closed professorterror.co.uk. It was mostly just a bunch of links, no real content. I might look into getting some free web-hosting for the stuff that isn't on youtube, myspace or this blog, but that isn't much.
In other news, I went to Zoe's on Friday which was pretty cool, and Arieges the day after, which was also pretty cool. There was lots of bitterness at both, and I got pretty angry/upset at the latter. However I also spent time with some of the best people I've ever met (and a lot of time with one of the best), so I guess it all balances out.
On the journey home I thought about how everyone reads newspapers on trains; I don't like that. They only do it to keep themselves occupied, but when I want to be occupied, I think. I thought that sounded stupid when I first thought it, but then on the train I came up with the Romeo and Juliet idea, which I am exceedingly proud of, so I stand by my non-newspaper-reading ways. News is depressing, anyway. I want to make the Romeo and Juliet thing into a spoken word song. Watch this space.

Listen to Tom Waits.

Romeo and Juliet: The Happy Ending

So Romeo has heard of Juliet’s death. He rushes to her tomb where his worst fears are confirmed. He draws his dagger, tears streaming down his cheeks. He raises it, as Juliet awakens. She screams, catches his hand in the nick of time. They embrace. Each feels ecstatic.
The Capulets are so overjoyed at the news of their daughter’s new life, that they end the feud with the Montagues. The couple re-marry, and everyone shares their utter happiness. The two move in together, nice place, lots of space. Not long ‘til a kid comes along.
Lord Capulet passes away. He leaves nothing to the happy couple; turns out he never really did forgive the Montagues. Bad blood rises once more between the families. The young couple leave the city and make themselves a new home.
Later that year, the Montague family are involved with some tax evasion offences. Declare bankruptcy. The couple are ruined. Romeo has to get a job; he hates it, but it’s worth it to keep the wife and child he loves so dearly alive.
He gets home one day to find no dinner on the table. Hungry and irritable, he moans at his love. She snaps back and it escalates into a shouting competition. Later they both sheepishly apologise and carry on as normal. They vow never to argue again.
A few weeks later Romeo is searching for his old rapier; questions his lady. She explains how she threw “that rusty old toy” away. Romeo explodes - the argument rages for hours. That evening, embarrassed, they both act like nothing happened.
Not long after, Romeo, on his way home from the job he loathes, is accosted by a young man who asks for some spare change. Grudgingly, Romeo gets out his wallet. The man grabs at it, but Romeo pushes him down with ease. As he turns to walk away, four much larger men step out from an alleyway. Three of them hold him as the other two beat and rob him. He is shown sympathy from Juliet when he arrives home, but she soon gets tired of his self-pity. Accusing him of being self-absorbed, she kick-starts a chain reaction of built-up irritations, and the worst quarrel yet emerges. The next few days are as normal, but with a distinct air of bitterness.
Romeo takes a much needed holiday and visits some of his family for a few days. However his welcome is worn out sooner than expected, and he heads home two days early. His curtains are drawn, and he enters the house suspiciously. The slamming door causes scuffles from the bedroom. He opens the door with apprehension, only to be staring at another man in his bed. But the man is not alone.
After a three-day-long argument, Juliet leaves Romeo’s life with the only person to never betray him; the six month old child. Juliet gets a job to survive.
Much of Romeo’s wages are put towards his local pub’s profit.
She is abandoned by the child she was too busy to love.
Both die alone and unhappy.

The moral of the story: kill yourself when you are happy to avoid a life of misery, because in the end, everyone fucks you over.

Shh... Men are talking...

I’m at work, talking to Ariege about blogs. She has one now. It can be found here. We were discussing which blogs we like to read, and we both feel that our lives don’t have anything interesting enough to write about, let alone read about.
She suggested I write about her in a blog, so I thought I’d go a step further and write a blog about her. Anyway, I’m not being given any work to do, so I may as well type so it looks like I’m here for a reason. But enough about me.
I’ve been around her for two years now, but I’d say I’ve only really known her for one; she’s fairly quiet and/or shy. Met her at school (Bullers), I don’t really remember what my first impressions were, owing to the fact that I met about 200 new people in the space of a single day (I still don’t know the first names of some people I spoke to on a semi-regular basis).
My first interactions with Ariege were group conversations of which we were both a part. She probably formed better impressions of me than I of her, as I am somewhat of a loud-mouthed malcontent, whereas she is more reserved. I do not remember what the subject matter of said conversations was, but I can imagine it spanned a wide range of topics, most likely covering religion, prejudice, music, television and “what would you do if…?”s.

* * *

I had to stop writing this for about four hours… I’ll try and pick up where I left off, but I thought it best to explain myself, lest there be a slight judder in the flow of my prose.

Over the weeks, and eventual months, I began to form some sort of opinion of Ariege: it is difficult to sum up my basic interpretation in only a few words. Quiet and reserved, yet with an air of rebellion; though she has strong convictions, she does not preach.

* * *

This isn’t really going anywhere. I don’t know where to take the flow next. I’ll talk about her more casually now:

She’s short. She’s fairly easy going, and even when you grind her gears she’ll still laugh as she gets angrier and angrier. She’s a feminist (or something along those lines) and likes Rise Against (but she likes good music, too). She’s a Mormon (I think – one of those wacky religious types, anyway) and she likes a good debate. Her arguments never convince me, but they aren’t ridiculous. Her pet peeves include (but are not limited to) sexism (probably other ‘-ism’s, too) and ignorance. She’s more intelligent than she lets on, she got five grade As at A-level. The most fun you can have at her expense is making comments such as “yeah, she got five As, but they were Art and Photography and stuff, so they don’t really count”. A memorable mention should go here to Ben(ny) who legendarily said to her, in context, “Quiet: men are talking” (or something to that effect). Quite possibly the funniest thing I have heard in a long while. One of the most enjoyable things you can do with Ariege (not like that, you fucks) is converse; she is one of the few people who has the rare ability to hold an intelligent conversation.
One thing to avoid with her is MSN; it’s not the best way of communicating, as it is, due to it’s inability to convey the tone of something. Ariege tends to type things in a way which sounds rude (even though unintentional). However it’s usually funny, so it’s alright.

I’m running out of things to say again. I might wrap it up for now, then come back and add more later.

All in all, I’d say Ariege is a good person and a good friend, and she’s well worth your time.

* * *

I wrote this about a week ago and forgot to do anything with it. I’ve remembered my first proper encounter with Ariege, though: I spoke to her and Charlotte O’Dea about music in the kitchen of (D)Inglewood in the first few weeks of my starting sixth form at Bullers - I played them some Alec Empire. They seemed to enjoy it, but they might have just been being polite.

This blog is horrendously disjointed and probably quite a chore to read; apologies.
Hope you like it, (fuckin’) A.

Machine Head - All Falls Down

I have decided that this is the ultimate metal song for me. Perhaps the mind-numbing commute home from the mind-numbing job makes music sound better (in fact it does), but I listened to 'All Falls Down' on the way home yesturday and I realised how it's such a fantastic song. 'Through The Ashes Of Empires' is one of the few metal albums I even listen to anymore. Machine Head are severly underrated. I know they are fairly popular, but they are technically talented when it comes to each of their instruments, his singing style is fairly original, and some of the riffs they churn out are pretty damn amazing. I'm gonna listen to the song and type through it now:

The intro to this song is so atmospheric; starting sparse, then the subtle bass in the background compliments the reverbing tinkle of the guitar, and the vocals are simply delicious. When the drums kick in, it gets going a little, yet doesn't get frantic, just keeps the pace going. Then as they cut out, you know somethings about to happen - it all kicks off. Same riff, but played more... METAL.
Then we go back to the atmospheric part again, and back into the angry part, this time with vocals. There's a frickin' vocal harmony in the middle of the growling! Beautiful. Rob Flynn's voice is incredible, so versatile.
"Believe everything you've heard about me"
This song makes me want to nod/bang my head - a good sign.
Then we get this nice little mid-part, like a variation on the intro, with some lovely vocal melodies (with the odd harmony). Then it builds, and builds...
Then the guitar-only riff is dripping with anticipation.
The backup vocals! Every song should have some alternating growls.
Then it goes all out for the ending and finishes with a bang and a grunt. Rockin'.

Fucking fantastic song.

People...

... Suck. Everyone lets you down. You can't trust anyone. I haven't seen my close friends for a while (I was all pissed at them because they go out quite a bit it seems and don't even bother asking me, but I got over it) so I decide to organise something for Sunday, before they all go to University and what-not. Called one. Couldn't get through. Called another. Found out they were all in a casino in Brighton.
If you don't like me and don't want me hanging around with you, fucking tell me, because I'm sick of so-called friends fucking me around and then making ME feel bad when I get upset by it.

Happiness By The Kilowatt

I'm not very good with words unless I have time to think them over; talking about feelings has never been my favourite past-time. That's why I like posting blogs so much. I can get my feelings out in an articulate manner. It is also good because I can be as self-absorbed as I like without worrying about it - if people don't want to read about me, they can stop at any time without offending me.
So I write my feelings on here. I sometimes get a little feedback, which is greatly appreciated. But the most impoartant thing is that I never ever meant to hurt anyone. But if I can't talk about my feelings on here, then I feel trapped in my own head. Sure, I babble about how fukt I feel constantly to anyone willing to listen, and I probably come off as a total prick in fact, but I still feel completely pent up. It's only after writing a blog that I feel I've successfully managed to get everything off my chest.
All I have to say right now is that I don't really like my life very much at the moment. At all.
Tom, Deathstars used to be good - the first album is alright. But I agree, the new song is quite bad. NOW DRINK THE CYANIIIIIDE!
Greg, upon closer inspection, City and Colour are/is in fact super awesome. The lyrics are superb, and the harder you listen, the less samey-samey it sounds.

Post-Reading

I got my new (three month old) Vauxhall Corsa (four-door) Wednesday evening. Took it out for a spin; it's a sweet ride. Greg came over later that night. Watched enough of Die Hard to appreciate 'The animals went in two-by-two, hoorah, hoorah' being used while hardened criminals robbest some sort of bank (it wasn't a bank, it was a big safe with lots of gold, but I don't know what those are called), then most of Dawn Of The Dead.
Then awoke at 5.30 am and, after a quick shower, went to pick up Alissa. Due to some stupid reason, Faye ended up coming a day late; I'm still not 100% on the details.
We arrived at the festival and parked in the overflow car park, we had to get a boat into the main bit. Queued for about an hour. Met people, then headed back to my car to get the last few bags... Queued for FOUR HOURS (I shit you not). After that everything was good though, except my bag fell in the river Thames and I (being the genius I am) jumped in after it without a second thought. I should probably say, it was only knee-deep, but still. I'm fairly sure that's why I have a 'fluey thing now. Although I told someone I had 'flu and they said, "Actual 'flu or man 'flu?" so I'm probably just being a pussy. I still feel crap.
The bands were brilliant, the mind-altering substances were copious and the tea was delicious. Stand-out moments include:

• Having a private circle-pit for Less Than Jake/their set in general
  
• Getting one of the best hats I have ever seen for a fiver
• Breakfast everythings
• Fayeski BEAT terrorising everyone at the camp with Wash'n'Go and frankfurters
• Writing "LESS THAN JAKE" all over every person I could find
• Singing Aiden at everyone... SUNRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISE
  

There's probably more, but for now that will do. I'll post pictures when I get hold of some, anyone/everyone please e-mail me any if you have them.

Bring on Reading '07.

"Emo"

So I was a bit let down friday night, expecting bare hedz to come over, only Harry, Tom, Matt and Jenni came in the end. A good group, no argument there, but I was just expecting more. So I just got monged and passed out. Only got four or five hours sleep.
Then I got up, got ready, cooked a little and headed off to Bromley. Jen got the bus with me. I hate buses. I loath them. I can't stand not having a car.
Thursday night was great, while I think of it. Went to Lloyd's then Walkabout with Faye, Bekka and Steve.
Went to Bekka's yesturday, helped Liam set up his marquee and then helped chop fruit with some mums. Good, clean fun. Raved it up all night, sober as they come. Knackering. Had some annoying/hilarious confrontation with Bekka's mum on my way to her bedroom at 4am... Ended up sharing a cold, hard, woodden floor with Liam. Got about five hours sleep again. Cat B drove me to Bromley to catch another bus (grr). I should be packing for Reading, as I'm busy all this week.
I got called "emo" a lot last night, too. But fuck it, I don't care. I enjoy what is typically considered 'emo' music, I like having a fringe over my face and a ring through my lip, and I do believe that converse are the best shoes ever. Does that make me 'emo'? Fine. For the record:

• I tried to buy converse at the tender age of thirteen after seeing the Less Than jake video for Gainesville Rock City, but no shoe shops sold them.
• I had my devilock hair cut in year eleven, before anyone even knew what 'emo' was.
• I wanted a lip ring in year ten.
• I understand why people discriminate against "emo kids".

So yeah, I'm emo, whatever. There wasn't much point in that rant there. And also, I pretty much copied everything anyway; AFI, LTJ... I used to be called "goth" or just plain "gay", now it's "emo". Also, the people calling me "emo" were a bunch of chavs who had a long rant about how they hated it when people called them chavs.
I really should stop whining and start packing.

SO TIRED!

Listenin' to TBS on your lunch-break is where it's at.

I'm at work right now. I'm pretty proud of myself, AAB, £18k job, car on it's way, Reading Festival next week... Hell, I'm not even wearing a suit today! But I'll come to that later...
I haven't written much about my job yet. Not that there's much point, hardly anyone reads this blog anymore; It's funny how people stop caring when you're no longer forced into close contact with them, day-in, day-out.
By some incredulous coincidence this morning, I wound up sitting opposite Kirsty Ellard on a train - it was a surprisingly pleasant encounter.
I decided earlier that I'm regressing to teenage-angst mode, because this job is completely draining me. I mean, I know I'm technically an adult an' all that bollocks now, but come off it, I'm clearly a big kid. I can't be dealin' with this commute, suit, 9 - 5, Monday - Friday, fantango. In fact, forget age, I'm supposed to be ANTI-establishment (even though I am fully aware that entire concept is totally ridiculous)... I have sold out.
I can't complain too much; everyone here is really nice... And I am writing a blog on my lunch break. It's dress-down Friday, so I'm nice and scruffy, too. Matt raised the point that if we can stand to be not-smart one day a week, why do we need to be smart at all? I think it's just to keep the employees happy. A happy worker is a busy worker, etc.
Music sounds so much better to me now that my life seems so boring. So at least something good is coming from it. Boring isn't even the word for it. ARGH, it sucks that I need money/have irritating/poor parents.
I think I'm gonna go to Amsterdam in early September to take the edge off. Not that I should be using my holidays up this soon, but I'm not organising the trip. I wish I was cruisin' with BEAT in the WAGN right now so very, very much. This blog is too long, and, like I said, no-one seems to read them anymore. Harry, Tom, Matt, Jenni, Faye, Jordana and Greg are the only people who read it, I think (PROVE ME WRONG! LEAVE A COMMENT, SUCKER!).
I'M SICK OF WRITING EVERY SONG ABOUT YOU!
I wish I had a guitar here.
The other person who reads this is me; I read my own blogs I get so bored, how sad is that? I wonder if any system administrators are watching my screen right now... I wonder if they're reading this. I wonder if they are enjoying it.

Live long and prosper.

(This doesn't appear to be publishing, so I'm going to e-mail it home and put it up later; I spent too long on it to just discard)

I'm So Ronery

I just finished my first day at my first proper job. Scary/boring shit. It's alright I guess. I get the feeling that I'll grow to loath it within a few months, and then get used to it. I just gotta grin and bear it, I suppose.
The part about this job that sucks most of all, though, is that at this time in my life I really need someone to talk to, I hate being alone right now; the reason this means my job sucks a little is because none of my friends have jobs, so they are all out - I have no-one to talk to. Tried 'phoning Fayeski BEAT for a chat, but she was in a pub, so I didn't wanna bore her. All I got is this blog, really. Nah, that's not true, I have plenty of good friends who would willingly chat with me 'bout it all if I called them, but I want a close friend. Ah, to hell with it, I'm impossible.
I keep going through manic stages. Music is makin' me go insane right now, but it's anyone's guess whether I'll break down into tears at any given point. Exaggeration, but who cares. Trains kinda suck, but at least they are better than buses.
WITH FRIENDS
LIKE YOU
WHO NEEDS
SUB TEXT?
That's all I have to say. Or do. For the rest of the night. Man, I'm bored. Results day on Thursday and I'm, surprisingly, not bothered. Doesn't look like I'll be getting a car before Reading, either. Again, I'm not too upset. Had some major irritation this morning with my train ticket, but I don't even care enough to moan about it in here. And the whole leave-for-work-at-7.30am-get-home-at-7pm isn't even getting to me too much. I have become numb to the shit of the world. Took long enough.
WELL, BEST FRIENDS MEANS
I'm in an amazing mood, considering I feel like there's a black hole in my heart. Maybe I just finally snapped.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

(L) Escapism (L)

I think this is one of my favorite music videos ever, if not my very favorite:



Here are eleven reasons why I like it so much:

1. OK, first up, the obvious one - the song. It's a tasty little tune with a rhythm that makes me want to move a little. It has woah's (see below) and lyrics that seem to almost empathise with me personally ("Why don't you stay with me tonight? 'Cause I know everything is not alright" - I am currently very lonely).
2. The whole writing over the top of the video is exactly the type of humour that appeals most to me; it's almost like something I'd do myself. It's a clever way to make a low-budget, lame video into non-stop hilarity.
3. The band aren't taking themselves seriously. I don't think any band should.
4. Racial slurs.
5. Among all the humour and (for want of a better word) wackiness, there is still something slightly poinient about the whole thing. Even though it's pretty much impossible to be an individual, since all clothes are mass-produced in order to turn a profit, it's always good to encourage people not to follow a crowd for the sake of it.
6. The "There's Waldo" bit, even though it should be Wally. Stupid Yanks.
7. The words "represent", "recognise", "bitchin'" and "word" are used, as well as one of my fa(ye)vourite phrases, "lover not fighter".
8. It shows that you don't need much money to make a decent music video, or a fucking script.
9. That when the band are dressed in "comical" clothes, the singer is wearing the same outift I wore to the Leavers' Ball.
10. It has subtitles for the woahs. Woahs are amazing, singing along with woahs is one of the best things you can do.
11. It was on P-Rock.

It Hurts

I've spent a few minutes staring at the blank screen, trying to figure out what to write. I want to let the world know how I'm feeling, without spilling my guts all over the internet. To be honest, anyone reading this knows what I'm talking about anyway.

I don't remember ever feeling this sad. It's making me feel sick. "My heart feels sick".

Death doesn't phase me at the moment. Which is odd, because it's pretty much the only thing that bothers me usually. I sorta want to go to sleep and not have to wake up, ever.

I'm not really thinking straight.

Can the world not just fuck off now? Please? I'm sick of it. I haven't got any faith anymore.

How can I trust people now?

Fuck.

New Robertson Vlog

A Less Moody Review of The Past Week

Right, now that I have food in my house and I have tried to sort out the car (to no avail, but at least now I can relax since there's nothing more I can do 'til Monday), I rekon it's time to bring you all up to speed and recall what I can of the past week, which I like to call MEGA-JACK-FEST!

Right, let's see if I can actually remember every day...
I woke up on Friday to an empty house. I was worried at first because my parents' flight was cancelled, I feared they might come home. Luckily they got a train instead. Then Friday afternoon I took Matt to Greenwich and I bought a bong. It's so super-awesome. We only use it for the smoking of legal substances, though. Obviously...
Then we broke it in. After that we... Stumbled into my car and got to Alex Noble's party, which was nice and chilled. I had to take Tom home to grab a change of clothes (because he was upset that Chris Cousins had doused him in beer), then Matt, Jenni, Tom and Harry all came back to mine, where I showed off my new toy.
Then... I sorta forget what happened... I think they all stayed over. The next day (Saturday) a similar gang went to Kundai's BBQ, and it was a similar story with the gang coming back to mine, etc. On a side note, I suggested the phrasology "etcetrizzle" as a gangster way of saying etc. On a further side not, it pisses me off when people say "ec-setra". It is, in fact, "et cetera".
Sunday lots of people came over and stayed. At some point in the week Jenni and I started playing Crash Bandicoot 2, with lots of other people helping, including Matt and Alissa. Me an' Jen are the dynamic duo, though.
Monday, Jenni and Matt stayed over, we got fucked. I filmed this:

Tuesday, Faye and Alissa joined us, and we had a nice chilled day. Delve rehearsals in between Crash Bandicoot. Then Wednesday we awoke to the sound of Fayeski shouting at us through a microphone to all wake up. Skank. We Delved, then I drove FF and JD back to the House of Dunstan. Alissa sorted some shit out, then we followed Faye's somewhat questionable driving down the motorway. It took us about twice as long as it should have, since Mama D got a bit confused with directions, but we ended up in the right place eventually. Many many many thanks to Alissa for everything she did on Wednesday, including buying batteries, almost being killed on several occasions, and putting up with drunk morons like me.
The gig was FUCKING AMAZING. If you have photographs from it, PLEASE send me them, I'll post them up here. Check out Parson's Blog for a few, but there's only one of me, so that's a bit of a let-down.
We rocked the house, and then a small group of us started going fucking insane to Revenge Of The Psychotronic Man (who fucking kick ass, by the way), and after about fifteen minutes, everyone but the dynamic duo got tired. Us two fucking dominated the pit (as in, we were the only two on the dancefloor at all), and the band announced that we were awesome. They invited us on stage at the end to dance, and Matt joined us then. Shit man, fucking best gig ever. Delve PLUS the punk rock EQUALS Wednesday.
Then quite a bunch of people came over. Buggsy fell over on his way out the door and headbutted a glass lamp-shade, smashing it. Bled a little. If it wasn't so hilarious, I would be angry. Luckily, I have the exact same lamp in my room, so the ol' switcheroo did fine. Harry, Tom, Matt and Alissa played City of Heros (I told you it was the best game ever). Then the latter three got bored, but not Hazzer the Wazzer, oh no. He played that game without getting out of his chair once for over ten hours. He's nuts.
Thursday I tidied the house like a fuckin' fiend, because my auntie called and said she was coming to "water the plants" (i.e. check on the state of the house). Everything went alright. I went to Bromley with Alissa to buy some suits. They are amazing. Then you know what happened when I tried to drive home. Alissa stayed over last night. It was cool. She took me food shopping earlier, and now I'm on my own waiting for Matt, Tom and Harry to get here.
Woo.

Wednesday was one of the best nights of my life. Followed by one of the worst days.

Still Apathetic, But...

Right, little update for ya because I have absolutely nothing better to do.
Holly took me to get some chinese, which I am eternally grateful for.
I discovered I have £20. However, this has to last me a week and two days, and for the past five days I have barely survived on £80... So I'm not sure if I'm happier for discovering the money, or less happy...
I (amazingly) bumped into my uncle WHILST getting chinese, which is just about one of the least-likely-but-still-within-reason things to ever happen to me. He was also trying to 'phone me at the very instant we met. Mental. Anyway, he had been told about my car-predicament by my auntie (who I 'phoned earlier for lack of any clue what to do), and said that he would tow me back home, so at least my car would be nearby. It still isn't functioning, he rekons it could be a gear-box related dilemma. Jesus frickin' CHRIST, the tow was probably the scariest half hour I have spent in a vehicle. I had to drive no more than and no less than three feet behind my uncle's Jag with no engine. The journey had a few jerks and what-not, but my uncle said I did well, so I'm pleased about that. Man, am I ever rambling!
But all in all, I still feel pretty fuckin' shit. I was supposed to be going to be part of The Friday Night Project audience with Nicky and Harriett, but that went down the drain. So now I have an empty house, which is my second least favourite kind of house (second only to a house filled with relatives and/or strangers), and nothing to do. I'm gonna start sorting some stuff out tomorrow, 'cause I just cannot be fucked tonight. The Delve gig last night was awesome, by the way, see Jenni's blog for further information on that topic.
I have hardly been using this, or in fact any computer over the past couple of days, so there have been slim to nil Professor Terror/Robertson updates. No apologies. Whatever. I'll do some this week.
So now one of two things will happen:

1. Alissa will come over after work and cheer me up.
2. I will whip out my bong and get so stoned I don't even remember what a car is.

Both are good.