Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in ordo_abchao's LiveJournal:

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Monday, September 1st, 2008
7:11 pm	An Imperceptible Shadow Last week when I was out with Helen and she got her new extremely hardcore, rad, and sexy haircut (I threw the battery in her back) she bought me some sweets and said look at the pictures. We are both convinced something very perverse and wrong is going on, and just for good measure I asked my rather crazy friend Jaylea and she agreed also. I decided somebody should stand up for the cause and take these confectionery Nazi's to task. Below is the e-mail I sent... To whom it may concern According to your MAOAM Today section, the illustrations found on the side of the individual sweet wrappers are referred to as a "unique comic-strip" which is used to "clearly indicate their fruit flavour." Let me cite the cherry flavour, for instance. I was wondering what exactly the relationship of the two characters was? It looks like a grape is molesting a cherry. Surely there must be another explanation? I feel that with the treacheries of the world, Iraq, and global warming, the future is already bleak enough for the youth, I would hope the fruit characters aren't a subliminal message of sinister intent. We need a paradigm shift. I would greatly appreciate any forthcoming information on this matter. Yours Seeking Enlightenment Topsy Kretts Clearly with a slogan like, "Go Mad for MAOAM" something very wrong is going on. They clearly put mind-altering substances in their candy and are trying to destroy us all through infliction of insanity. Response Received Dear T Kretts Thank you for your email regarding Maoam products manufactured by our sister company in Germany. We are sorry to hear you are upset about the images shown on the Maoam wrappers. The new Maoam design was first introduced in Germany in 2002. The objective of the new design was to make the fruit figures appear more modern and lively in order to better appeal to the consumer. At no point was it intended to create sexual images. Prior to the introduction the design was tested and shown to a number of children and adults belonging to different age groups. We can ensure you that at the time no comments were made referring to a sexual context. Therefore our sister company in Germany deemed the design suitable to be launched internationally. We would like to thank you for your valued comments in this matter and please accept our apologies for any inconvenience caused. -- Regards Michael Carr Haribo Customer Care (UK) email: michael.carr@uk.haribo.com IF REPLYING TO THIS EMAIL PLEASE QUOTE THE SUBJECT LINE TOGETHER WITH THE REFERENCE NUMBER --------------------------------------------------------------------- http://www.haribo.com --------------------------------------------------------------------- HARIBO GmbH & Co. KG Sitz der Kommanditgesellschaft: Bonn Registereintragung: Amtsgericht Bonn HRA 593 Persönlich haftende Gesellschafterin: HARIBO Verwaltungs GmbH Sitz der Gesellschaft mit beschränkter Haftung: Bonn Registereintragung: Amtsgericht Bonn HRB 2927 Geschäftsführer: Dr. Hans Riegel, Paul Riegel --------------------------------------------------------------------- I Am Legend! Current Mood: curious (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, August 30th, 2008
7:00 pm	A Life Less Ordinary Oh how time flies when you're trying to die young. Where to start? I need sections. And so it goes... Poppy [Killing] Fields For all my blog enthusiasts (scary how many of you there is, apparently) you will recall me mentioning Helen's youngest daughter Poppy (pictured above) a handful of blogs back. She was the four year old who asked me if I wanted to be bludgeoned. Yes, she is already a legend in the making. Well last week I accompanied Helen to Clambers (children's play centre) and was left in charge of her. The reason we were at Clambers was that it was Zane's (Helen's youngest) birthday, he had turned one. So obviously Helen couldn't run around with both of them, so I got the seemingly easier task of looking after Poppy. It's funny how something simple and innocent can go wrong lol. Poppy is a tyrant. A blonde terrorist. A sovereign destroyer of all other children. In short if anything ever happens to her father I want to adopt her. I believe I could nationalize Hastings and take it over using her as the frontline muscle. Anyway, I digress. Helen keeps Poppy restrained using one of those child lead's, because she likes to run ahead and go too near to moving cars. She reminds me of Garland Greene in Con Air. Once the lead was removed, Poppy high-tailed it outside and left me to catch up. Being 6'2 and running down a narrow path with a pushchair does not make you look smooth, I received a lot of strange looks. When I finally did catch up with her she was outside playing on the slide, which was just fine and dandy. I found myself a spot and sat down. Then in what seems like a split second she had disappeared again. I went looking for her and found that she was in one of these plastic houses you can sit down in with other children at the bottom of the outside play area. As I approached with the pushchair all I heard was, "GET OUT, THIS IS MY HOUSE." I was like, that isn't? Is it? Oh. God. Umm, think fast. There were three other plastic houses to play in, but Poppy had apparently decided she was the only person who was allowed in this particular one. There were two other children in this house, a brother and sister. Poppy had broke this little boy down to the verge of tears, and in all honesty, if his sister hadn't defended him I think he would have cried a river. Poppy met her nemesis, the girl had obviously been taught to man up also lol. I decided to get in the house, which at my height is quite a maneuver, and was like, "What's going on in here?" When both Poppy and this girl started screaming their sides of the story to me. I just said, "OK, cool out. Poppy let's go next door." I thought I had successfully diffused this little predicament, but when I turned around I was being glowered at by a sea of mothers. All looking at me like, "You're a terrible father, control your child." If she wasn't mental and blonde like me it would be less tragic, but I'm an innocent bystander myself. The things I do for you Helen lol. Castration of a B-Boy Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been five days since I went to a pop concert. On Saturday I accompanied Helen and her eldest daughter Hayley to see Girls Aloud (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIMzh7y_Gbc) at Battle Alley. Girls Aloud are Satan's curse to the planet. They are awful with a capital A. Even Jimmy Carr (who I fucking hate) uses them as a punchline - "Bad things come in threes, like Girls Aloud." For the record, I only went to keep Helen company. She is a hardcore and totally rad rock chick, and I couldn't let her go out like that. I'll hand my hip-hop pass in at the end of this blog. The funny thing is two of my friends from the Old Town went to this gig too and had no excuse. I'll give Luke credit though, when I asked him why he was there he said, "I like loud girls" hahaha. Well played, Sir. Eyes on the prize. As soon as we were in the most important thing needed to be established first. For me and Hayley this is where our fundamental differences occured. Hayley bled her mothers pockets dry on Girls Aloud merchadise. Me, I needed to find where the cider was being distributed. For what it's worth, I didn't get drunk, I thought it would make things more eventful. They had a bunch of (even more) terrible warm up acts, so bad I don't even remember them, except for the token black guy from Blue (another faggot boy group). The best part was when the dude had just sung his new single and somebody behind us said, "Well done, you're through to the next round," hahaha. BURN! Helen has made an observation that is now being held as a truth to me. English people are scared to get close to the artists during a live show. They all prefer to stand back. This is how we pushed to the front at the Cold War Kids, and how despite there being 9000 people at the Girls Aloud show, managed to push to the front when the band had already came on. The fact that we were right at the front will forever immortalise Helen in Hayley's eyes, and that's what it's all about. Take that Mark! At the risk of being rinsed endlessly, Girls Aloud are pretty good live. I can't say I enjoyed the music, but as far as their stage show goes, I give credit where credit is due. They put time and effort in, and it was choreographed well enough to hold my attention until the end. My favourite part was when they did a rendition of Salt-N-Pepa's 'Push It'. You haven't lived until you've seen five anorexic white girls shouting, "PUSH IT, REAL GOOD." Wizard! There was supposed to be a fireworks show after the gig, but it was like two minutes of fireworks and then stopped. If the show had been terrible I would have been livid. It's all good though, Girls Aloud rocked the spot and Hayley had a great time. Bless, she's Helen's mini me... "Who is Louise Spencer?" Hurry Up and Kill Me...I'm Cold As it was bank holiday this past Sunday, I went out with Helen, Alli, and Glyn and got on one. It's probably wrong to drink on God's day of rest, but I am the devil if ever there was such a thing, so it correlates nicely with my soul (or lackthere of). I am pretty much just relishing in the fact that I've found my A-Alike in Helen, so we could be in a dilapidated house watching paint chips fall and I'd be happy as Lord Laidlaw in a brothel. It was a good night as a whole - Blueberry cider in abundance, a few laughs, Helen and Alli threw a drink over a bastard ex of Helen's who had it coming, Glyn is deadpan hilarity personified, Alli's friend Emma told me she loves me (she was waaaaasted), and they played Peaches 'Fuck The Pain Away' in The Brass, which Helen and Alli threw shapes to marvellously. If I danced that would have been the jam to bust a move to. Unfortunetly I still have two left feet and motion sickness. An unhappy face resides in my heart. After Alli and Glyn left, me and Helen decided to follow suit and went back to mine. All was good, then when Helen's cab came at about 4 am I went outside with her to say goodbye and forgot to bring my keys. My dad could sleep through an earthquake and class 5 hurricane, so I could not get back in no matter what. I gave the front door the beating of its life and could not get this man up. As a last resort I went over the beach, lined my pockets with pebbles and threw them as hard as I could at his bedroom window (I think I may have cracked the window by accident too). His bedroom is the top window on the left... ...Still couldn't get him to wake up. I then decided to lay down on the fire escape stairs and a time-lapse occured. When I came to (probably about 40 minutes later) I had a policeman standing over me, and three others at the bottom of the stairs. It went something like this... Policeman: Can I ask what you're doing out here? Me: [Waking up like Donnie Darko on the golf course] Where the hell, am, I? Errr. Hello? Policeman: We have received a call for suspicious behaviour and apparently things being thrown at windows. What are you doing out here? Me: I've locked myself out of my house and can't get back in, as my dad is an alcoholic and could sleep through the next World War. I threw some stones at the window to try and wake him up. Policeman: And who are you? I need to run your details through the system. Me: Jack Doyle, my dad is the owner. Policeman: Any middle names, Jack? Me: *Cringingly* Nicholas I then gave him my date of birth, address, postcode, that kind of thing. And then I heard my priors come up on the other end (oh the shame). At least I've talked my way out of a charge twice, original bloodclot bad boy lol. After we had got past the formalities this cop just reaffirmed everything I believe in the police force - They are useless... Policeman: Well everything checks out. I guess other than being out in the cold and damp, you're alright. We're going to go now. Gee thanks, Officer. I'm glad you came to my rescue. Caution, Our Protection Sucks. Well folks, that more of less encapsulates my time since I last checked in. I had a majestical day today, can't really blog it, but I am forever changed. "We just met And I know I'm a bit too intimate But something is coming up And we're both included" - Björk 海伦 我爱你! Current Mood: crazy (Comment on this)
Friday, August 29th, 2008
6:53 pm	Shamrock Pride Since I've last typed here, I have been to Ireland to visit my family whom I haven't seen since a small child. It was meant to be for a few days, but due to the genius that is my dad's forward planning, ended up being for about 35 hours. It took about 14 hours travelling to get there and back too (driving and ferry). The journey was a torture method, plane next time. I'm going to skip what the ferry journey was like, sea sickness, being caught in the middle of my dad and his girlfriend, and just commence at arrival... Upon arriving in Wexford, where my dad originally hails from, we drove to the convenience store which my aunt Teresa runs. The store is basically in the middle of a quiet village and us arriving seemed almost like an event. People were outside waiting to catch a glimpse of us. I was slightly nervous walking up and seeing my cousin and aunt because it's been so long, but my nerves were quickly put to rest when I realised they are still the great folks they used to be. I am going to take all the credit for this trip materialising too, because it was me who found my Irish family on facebook, began talking to my aunt, and then telling my dad he should call his sister, which lead to the visit. What can I say, I'm one hell of a guy. From talking on facebook, me and my cousin found that we shared common loves, such as Björk and David Lynch movies, and seemed to be likeminded people, and from the trip it was engraved in stone. Where as my brother gets along really well with my cousin Tom, Lorraine is my kindred. My dad opted to stay in a hotel, but I wanted the real experience, thus was given the spare room at Lorraine's house. On the first night there it appeared it was going to a matter of settling in and not much else, but I could find a blog in grass collecting if I wanted to. After I dropped my bag off we went to a local bar with my aunt and uncle, Lorraine, and Fiona (Lorraine's housemate) for a drink. This lasted about 15 minutes, as we all dived for the exits after this terrible band started playing traditional Irish music. From here we moved onto Whites Hotel where my dad was staying. We were all just standing in the lobby deciding what to do when I was shifted in the direction of the lounge singer who sounded like Barry Manilow. I looked at this guy and said, "Wow he's talented, I need an autograph" when Fiona pointed out that it wasn't him singing. I was like, "What?" then sidestepped to the left some more and saw that it was an old woman with Popeye arms. I couldn't stop laughing. Her voice was horrific. The guy with her was playing the piano and singing backup vocals. Once the old woman started doing the funky chicken we were ghost. We all walked around looking for something to eat and found that the only place still open was found Burger Mac. In Wexford all the local businesses have really creative names like that. I liked that instead of Starbucks Coffee they had Sideways Coffee too. Burger Mac make McDonalds seem like a five star restaurant. I had the most rancid chicken burger of my existence. Putrid. I did however find gems from observation - Burger Mac deliver. Can you picture getting a Burger King takeaway? It's the wave of the future, I predict it. This wasn't the jewel though. For some reason there was a claw crane game on the store floor, which everybody who came in had to inexplicably play, and when I was ordering my food a thick Irish voice came from behind me and started shouting, "Come on you fucking bastard." I turned around to see who it was, and it was this guy in his mid 30's desperately trying to win a prize. I looked at my cousin and laughingly said, "Charming." By the time I had got my food and sat down, said guy had literally just a won a small yellow teddy bear. I then watched him walk over to his date/girlfriend and give her the token of his heart. It was absolutely hysterical. This dude straight up looked like the wrong person to fuck with and him sitting there trying so hard was celestial. Love is blind, or possibly emotionally unstable. The next day was spent driving around aimlessly in the rain. The plan was initially to visit my two other aunts, but neither of them were at home. I especially wanted to see my aunt Terry, as she apparently looks like a witch and is pure evil and deadpan. If she doesn't like you she will let you know immediately. I was truly looking forward to seeing her cut my dad down. Next time it has to happen. The real highlight of the day was the trip to the neon bowling alley in the middle of industrial complex hell. It was the first time I've socialised with my dad in about a decade, and it was good because he wasn't drinking for once. Unfortunetly when we got back home things have returned to unfortunate normalness, but I was hardly expecting a new bond to be formed. It was nice while it lasted. Nothing too dazzling, but the reconnection with my relatives was worth the trip alone. Random Occurrences - A teenage girl was apparently eyeing me up and asked my aunt who I was. She was shocked to learn I'm 24, she said I looked 17. Charmed, I'm sure. - Some 12 year old kid who frequents the store calls my aunt 'The Salmon of Knowledge'. I couldn't stop rinsing her when she told me this. - Some eccentric came into my aunts store and put a box on the counter and asked her to open it. When she did she was startled to find a pregnant tarantula inside. The young girl who also worked in the store hightailed it out the back exit upon realisation of what was in the box. Major arachnophobia. - Certain scenes of 'Saving Private Ryan' were filmed locally in Wexford and my cousin and aunt got to work on the set as caterer's. My aunt said Tom Hanks is "a really nice fella." And I thought meeting the Cold War Kids was big lol. - Rissole's are a local delicacy. - My second cousin owns a butchers in town. - You can't get Cherry Coke in Ireland. If you know me on a personal level you know that I cannot think in a straight line and am highly illogical. Below are pictures I took on my phone proving this... http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=152086&l=c11e6&id=528700564 This blog wasn't very interesting or well written, but fuck it, I'm happy in my personal life and I need either boredom, panic attacks, or transient pain to write. Shout outs to all my cyber heckles, and I love you Helen Current Mood: amused (Comment on this)
Wednesday, August 13th, 2008
8:23 pm	Hang Me Up To Dry Where, oh where, do I begin? So I went to see the Cold War Kids perform live with Helen and Dan last night. They were playing at the Concorde 2 in Brighton, which is quite a small venue, but crowd intimacy always makes for better live music, so that was a plus. During the warm-up band (dire) we all went outside to smoke. Helen found some guy from California with the same music tastes, and me and Dan talked to somebody from over here. The guy we talked to seemed surprised at our ages, especially Helen, he didn't believe that she was 29. In fact his response, "Bloody hell, really?" THE MAGIC HAIRCUT, HELEN. I told him the story of how she got ID'd for cigarettes after getting her hair cut shorter last week, which was only made funnier by Helen coming to the back of the store and saying, "Jack, witness". Anyway, the guy didn't hear what I said properly and said, "You need ID to get your hair cut?," to which I replied, "Yeah, it's fucking crazy in Hastings." Hahaha. Was hilarious. Anyway, I'm going off topic. Shortly after this, the Cold War Kids came on and our unit of 5 prepared to attack. It was pretty crowded and Helen was insistent we pushed to the front. Her line of persuasion was, "Are you scared of any of these people? No, let's go." What could I say, she had a point. We were right at the barriers at the end of things. Value for money, indeed. The Cold War Kids are great live, I recommend going to see them if you can. When we were at a bar before the gig started, I actually said I didn't think the lead singer's voice was that impressive, but it works for him. After seeing Nathan Willett sing live, I take it back. He actually sounded better than on record to me, which is rare. I was slightly disappointed at the brevity of the show, and the fact that they didn't perform 'God, Make Up Your Mind,' but it was a stellar set. The crowd went crazy for 'Hang Me Up To Dry', but the best song probably had to be 'Robbers', where smoke was all over the stage and the band members walked around shining torches on the crowd, perfect ambiance for the song. On the final song Helen, Dan and the two guys we met, ran behind the barriers and danced for about 40 seconds before security turned up lol. I tried to take a picture, but it didn't come out. Sorry, guys! When the gig was over Dan went outside to procure a cigarette from somebody, and I went with Helen to get her bag. When we got outside ourselves we couldn't find Dan, so me and Helen walked down the back of the venue. We eventually found Dan and then as we were standing there, Nathan Willett (lead singer) and Matt Aveiro (drummer) came outside to where their tourbus was. It was amazing that everybody just left, and we completely unintentionally got to meet them. Helen talked to Nathan for a little while (she totally would), Dan talked to Matt, and I stood there in amusement of how anytime I go out socialising something strange happens (you know this if you follow my blog lol). This has to be our apex this year though lol. The only thing I said was, "Respect" to Nathan and shook his hand. He said, "Thank you." It was deep. We took pictures with the guys (see below) and apparently they had dared their manager to jump in the sea. So we walked over to the beach with them. No security or anything, they were very down to earth. After standing there for a few minutes their manager started to bitch out saying how cold it looked and I said, "I will, if you will." I didn't wait for a response, I took my shoes and shirt off and ran in the sea. It was fucking freezing. It was also extremely windy and the waves were huge. My intent was to get in, then get out, but instead I got hit by about five waves and thought I was going to drown at some point. When I finally got back to shore I realised I had been carried quite far to the right of where everybody else was. Apparently the group made concerned comments about me when I didn't come up also, I feel special. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried lol. Realising that I was going to die from hyperthermia, we headed back to the venue. Helen got talking to the tourbus driver and tried to get us on the bus, using me as her incentive (don't think I didn't notice, Homer lol), "He needs to warm up." As we were standing there Matt Maust (bass guitarist) came outside and talked to us. He went on the tourbus and got a bottle of wine for me (the warmest drink he had apparently) and me and Dan stood there passing the bottle back and forth and chopping it up with him. Again, very down to earth and normal. I definitely detected a hint of social anxiety in him though, a fellow kindred spirit. Salute, Matt! They couldn't let us on the bus for security reasons, but Helen has the gift of gab and did us one better. She somehow talked Nathan into letting us backstage in the venue. When we walked in Nathan was sitting on the leather couch and asked me how I was, hahaha, claim to fame time. Everybody else was upstairs showering (not together, I hope, I never did enjoy Wham!, ahem). Me and Dan jumped on the stage, and I stole about 5 towels and bottles of water, and then we all just sat around having a laugh. Oh, and I forgot to mention, we were all on valium the entire time this happened lol (winner). For some reason while travelling home I began to feel extremely weird about the situation and considered myself a fool. After writing this blog I am more than happy and amused at the whole situation, but hey, the doctors tried to medicate this bipolar individual and he flatly refused. Being chemically imbalanced is my cross to bare. My mind's just a little off, I'm like Emily Rose lol. Quote of the Day: "Seriously I have never known someone as impulsive as you who at the same time worries straight after doing something mad like running into the sea" - Helen a.k.a Homer Mexicola. LMAO, Helen I'm fit for a straitjacket, this is just your first time of experiencing me having a bugout. You're initiated into the circle now. Love you! I really wish I had thought to run out of the sea singing, "Now hang me up to dryyyyyyy" though, that would have been legendary. The damn salt in the water momentarily dazed my burning witt. Picture below... http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=149555&l=358ca&id=528700564 It can only be downhill from here. Well, unless Helen decides to invite me and Dan out to Icklesham to do the ouija board (you promised). Current Mood: crazy (Comment on this)
Thursday, July 31st, 2008
9:12 pm	The Graduate 11 years of school, 2 years of college, 4 years of university...Give us free, Amistad. I shook the globe screaming, "What on earth is that?" I have finally arrived at my terminus. So today was my Graduation Ceremony, and what a marvellous occassion it was, no really, the whole time I was mentally writing this misanthropistic blog you are about to digest. As soon as I walked into the Brighton Dome trying to find the reception area all I could think was I have not one existing friend within the student body, it's quite an achievement. I mean they gave out special degrees for students who excelled in their areas, and if there was one for Most Anti-Social Student, I would take that shit, hands down. I would also be in the running for the award of Most Innately Gifted At Offending People Without Effort degree too. I am adamant of the latter, because as soon as the female worker who helped me put my gown on was done, I took the cap off and said, "I don't want to wear this shit yet, it's gay." Jesus, you'd think I just spat in her face and molested her Grandmother the way her eyes widened in disgust. Anyway... Fast forwarding the boring details of what the auditorium looked like, my dad not being able to look at my mum, my dad leaving before I even came out with my degree, my sister not getting in and complaining, etc, etc. Fuck it, let's break through the cartlidge and let the chips fall where they may. Observations Some: When each student goes up to collect their degree everybody gets applauded, but 'some' get clapped for louder and even cheered. Some in this instance is a code word. Some means whorish looking bitch. I sat and watched for 45 minutes, and every girl with huge bangers, a skirt entirely too short under their gown, a gleam in their eyes usually reserved for a lewd preachers daughter, ALL damn near got a standing ovation in comparison to us regular folk. This girl who looked like Sarah Michelle Gellar in 'Cruel Intentions' (she even sported a crucifix that looks like a vial of cocaine could be concealed in it) had an army in the crowd, they went nuts. Then after the next girl walked on; who was mediocre looking with glasses, it's almost like the volume got turned down in the auditorium. Irrelevant. Another girl walks on, who had clearly had breast enlargements (which is quite impressive being how costly it is to be a student nowadays) and the volume gets turned up again. The next student is a regular male IT student, the invisible volume button gets touched again. Coincidence. A couple of archetypal nerds walk on - mild response. Then this anorexic supermodel looking chick who looked like she'd give you a blow job for buying her an ice cream in the park strolls on and BOOM, the sound volcano erupts. Pattern. Yes, yes. This happened over and over again, I chuckled to myself, the Nigerian girl sat next to me probably thought, "This white boy is an egg short of an omelette." Oddly, when I walked on stage I actually got cheered. My initial thought was that there must be another Jack Doyle and people are confused. Turns out the person cheering was my mum hahaha. It was a loud "Whooo, yeah" too, hahaha. Love you, ma. The Fictional Faculty: Before the degrees were given out we all had to stand while prison torture-esque music played and the distinguished faculty took their seats. Immediately my inner blogger was activated. About three of the professors wore this purple and red gown, and all I could think was whoever came up with that colour scheme was a die hard X-Men fan, they fucking looked like Magneto without a helmet, it was absolutely hilarious. Another male and female professor sat next to each other and were wearing these derision hats that made them look like Punch and Judy. I wanted to put a swazzle in my mouth and shout, "That's the way to do it." Esteemed is amusing. And not really related, but back stage the technician in the booth was just on his laptop surfing facebook, I almost said, "Add me" lol. Esteemed: A couple of people on stage were given awards for decades of excellent work in their chosen areas (Social Care and Chemistry) and it was interesting and admirable, but after five minutes of the first speech I couldn't tell if I was listening to a proud person relishing in their moment, or listening to a novelist at a public reading. Jesus H. Christ, I started going delirious. To quote GZA, "Make it brief son, half short and twice strong." Wu-Tang is for the children. Movies Lie: After seeing countless films where the students all throw their caps in the sky, it didn't happen. I kind of knew it wouldn't, we had to rent the cap and gowns, and I figured we had to return the property ourselves, but come on, they should have had somebody collect them afterwards, I wanted my Hollywood moment...Bastards! To celebrate my mum decided we should go out to a chinese restaurant. My mum invited her boyfriend (who paid for everything - result lol), my sister invited her girlfriend (only met her today, she's very down to earth, I like her), and I invited (much to my surprise that she came) the one and only Homer Mexicola a.k.a Helen. Good times, good people. And this is where the buck stops. I know I forgot some of my cynical stabs, but I've had a couple of Tiger beers, so roar, to the exit. Afterthought: I'm a colossal prejudgemental prick, and I love it. Current Mood: accomplished (Comment on this)
Monday, July 28th, 2008
1:15 am	So from Sunday up until Wednesday, I had not verbally uttered a word to anybody, and was beginning to think if it continued any longer I was going to turn into the Hastings version of Anton Chigurh, and walk around asking people to call it. But alas, my metamorphosis into psychotic killer was thwarted when I was summoned out of the house where everything turned random, again. So here's a run down of the events... Wednesday - My dad brought his caucasian girlfriend's 7 year old African American daughter back to Hastings, who walked into my kitchen alone because she really wanted to meet me, as she thinks I'm her new brother. I was stumped and speechless as to what say back to her. I only told this story to my mum and Helen. My mum laughed, but Helen only seemed to find it mildly amusing. But when I went out with Helen drinking the next day, the first thing her friend Rob asked me was how my new sister was. So obviously it was good enough to retell lol. And then later my mum's boyfriend appeared out of nowhere and asked, "How chocolate face was?" That's Borat racist humour, he's not really a racist, I think/hope. Thursday - Helen invited me out to the beach to meet her daughter Poppy, who immediately warmed to me because I reminded her of her favourite uncle. Then after ten minutes of keeping her from slipping over on seaweed and injuring herself on the rock pools, she mystifyingly slipped on solid ground, skinned her fingers, started crying, and then I lost all the trust I was gaining because it was apparently my fault. I later earned it back by buying her drinks and a plastic sword filled with jellybeans from the seafront confectionary stand. Who says money doesn't buy happiness? - Poppy wants to be a Knight called Tim when she grows up, and tells amazing nonsensical jokes like, "Why did the cow sit on the umbrella?" I wish for the love of Satan I could remember what the answer was. I was too busy looking at Helen and thinking the DNA match is now apparent, that and laughing hysterically. - Poppy asked me if, "I wanted to get bludgeoned." Poppy is 4 years old and uses the word bludgeoned. She is my personal hero. - I did Love Hearts in the chess square with other friends a number of hours after, and then went to meet Helen who exclaimed, "Oh my God, he's going to be touching everybody soon," to which I replied, "No I won't." A few minutes later I then found myself touching her jewellery and belt, and stroking her friend Shavonne's tattoo on her arm. - The token homosexual of my extended friend group somehow knew Dave (a 41 year old) from back in the day. Alan is only 19, has a reputation for... well I'm not going to be disrespectful and homophobic (not while blogging anyway), but put it together. Dave you got brokeback mountained, your secret is out. - My mum's boyfriend came out and hung with me for a while. He bought me a drink everytime I bought one, so I must have consumed enough alcohol to make Irish dockworkers proud. My name is Jack, and I'm an addict. - My mum's boyfriend got thrown out of The Crypt after literally being inside two minutes. Only he could get into an argument with a bouncer's younger brother in the toilet. Respect, Paul. - I saw my old Science lab partner from school. I was high, he was dancing to MC Hammer, so I had the impulse to punch him in the arm quite hard. The look on his face when he turned around. Usually after having ecstasy in my system I can talk about anything, but I ran out of things to say in about 10 seconds in this instance. Sad really, we used to be tight. He didn't respond to my private message on facebook, I think I upset him. Haha, result. - Some out of town army guy kept trying to dance with me and claims I told him I liked him (to hell I did) when I left out the club, and was mad that I wasn't responding to his attempts to engage me in conversation outside. This should have been reason enough to not take drugs anymore, but sadly it wasn't. Friday - I was awoke by Dan knocking on the door at 10 am, when I had just about got to bed at 7 am. I felt like death, gave him his shoes back, and urged him to leave. - After sitting in a hot bath until my skin resembled E.T.'s, I went back to bed and just stared at the ceiling until 4 PM when Dan came back to knock for me with Dylan. I felt Tony the Tiger grreat. - While feeling like death and sitting in my brother's room; where me, Dan and Dylan decided we could make lampshades fashion accessories, I was told about a quasi-secretive party/rave/live music festival. I decided this sounded like the ticket, and proceeded to leave the house where I saw Jaylea and asked if she wanted to come with us too, which she did. - We went to this Spa (convenience store chain for my American .com-rades) in the middle of nowhere to get drinks, and my first girlfriend was behind the counter. I have always wondered what happened to her and have always wanted to talk to her, because we ended on a sour note. So was it a cathartic cleansing to see her, folks? No, it was not. I avoided eye contact at all costs, bought a box of Strongbow, and got the fuck out of there. The whole time I'm lining up I'm thinking, "Don't use my name" to Dan and Dylan. So what happens, yes, Dan says, "Jack, can I use your phone a minute." So long for thinking I might be able to make her think it's not me. I am toying with the idea of going back there next week and asking for her number to possibly mend the gap though. Still, I'm coming down of a three day drug/alcohol induced bender, my word doesn't mean spit at this junction at time. To be continued/or not... - After trying to get drunk (didn't work) with Dan and Dylan, Jaylea came out to Dan's house and her wonderful randomness lifted the atmosphere. We did however manage to talk about something serious, this... http://www.hastingsobserver.co.uk/newshastings/Girl-dies-in-freak-cycle.4294518.jp What a tragic and strange way to die. R.I.P Katie. - After explaining to Jaylea we were going to get pills later and wild out, she told me she gave them up two years ago, so I promised I wouldn't do any. After three minutes of being at the party I bought 4 for £10. I don't know why either. Long story short, me and Jaylea ended up splitting the pills, literally. She had half, I had half, and we sat there wondering who would get the buzz half lol. After about fifteen minutes of sitting down, watching the band, and talking, I announced, "I'm not feeling anything, are you?" to which Jaylea responded she wasn't. Then ten seconds later, I felt the surge of warmth through my body and knew I had got it. We then split another two and were both off our heads very shortly after. I am for once the corrupter, and not the corrupted. I feel dirty, and I like it. - After the pills had obviously disagreed with me and made me violently shiver all over, I pulled my hood up and ran across the yard screaming, "Fuck, I'm cold" and curled up in the public toilet. Yes, public toilet. The owner of the house is in the record industry and has a huge fucking house, and an even bigger garden, which had tents for about a mile out back. He also owned the woods on the property too. Anyway... After I stopped shaking like a fault line, I went back outside, had some red wine with Jaylea (straight out the bottle, because we're classy) and then went into the woods with Dan, Jack, and a girl called Philli, who I had just met. There was this tree house thing that everybody ran into, and I was just about to before Jaylea told me she had vertigo and was scared of heights. I turned my mobile phone light on in an attempt to reassure her it wasn't that high, when I realised the only thing from stopping me from falling down a huge hill, that would have sent me to the hospital, was a thin plank of wood. If Jaylea hadn't made this suggestion I would be fucked up right now. When Jaylea saw this she freaked out too. Still I somehow managed to get her to walk across the plank (arms around me of course), climb up the ladder and sit on the roof. I'm a charmer. Dan climbed up to the top of tree and we all urged him to get down. I then for some reason did the same, slipped, grabbed onto a branch midway, held on for my life, before losing grip again, grabbing onto a branch slightly lower, then losing all control and rolling down the hill head first. I now have more bruises than an abused housewife. Did it stop here? No, it did not... - I then got back up and went over to this rope bridge with the same people. Everybody told me to shine my phone over it, so I did, while trying to climb across it. I then fell upside down holding onto it with one hand, tried to pull myself back up, put too much weight into it and fell backwards onto the floor again. When I dropped Philli said, "Oh my God, Jack, are you OK? Jack. JACK." I then, after playing dead, got up and laughingly said, "Only joking." Then Dan fell off it, and tried to do the same, but I told him to stop stealing my routines, and then his phone rang so he just got up. Did it stop here? No, it did not... - I then found the tree swing, which everybody was too scared to go on, so I got on it and flew into the tree on the other side. In short, I am the cadillac of human disaster. Guaranteed people will remember me, I'm a blue ribbon idiot. - After thinking, "Wow, I'm fucked up right now," I went back for Jaylea and we took a walk. We ran into this rave promoter from London who gave me a hi vis vest which I walked around in all night. We went into this small room where everybody was pill'd up dancing to techno, and everybody stopped and stared at me. I then lost Jaylea, so I went outside to find her. Once I found her, we sat in this circle, and I was told by somebody who was close to the owner that I had to either take the jacket off or leave. I laughed at him, and then just went back to ignoring him before his overcontrolling stupid ass walked away from me. Yeah I'm an illuminous narc, LOOK AT ME, run your gear. - After the music had ended, me and Jaylea went to the stage and laid on it side-by-side and had a nice intimate conversation, the kind that come so effortlessly when you're spun. I'm sure everybody was looking at us thinking, "What the hell are they doing?" but such is life. Luvit! - When the party broke up, I managed to call a cab, miss it, lose Jaylea, come back in, find Jaylea, see a kid who tried to add me on facebook who I declined because I didn't know, stop to rub it in his face (he likes to see himself as being ice cool, you see), lose Jaylea again, then find her, and she decided she was going to bring some gym trainer she knows back to our pub for a lock-in. This guy was nicer than your Grandmother, he made me uncomfortable. We had a few ciders, talked, and then Jaylea wasted and looking at me like she was about to pass out/or kiss me (maybe both) made said gym instructor uncomfortable so he left. I took Jaylea upstairs, and after trying to get her to sleep in a spare room, [deleted conversation] she passed out in my bed, and I did the same. I met Jaylea when I was 10, and she was 7, and somehow we ended up here. Retrospect that lol. It was one of the best nights of my life actually, I won't lie. Disclaimer: Don't do drugs, kids. Saturday - Me and Jaylea woke up like, "Ermm, hi." It wasn't awkward though, it was completely the opposite, and I feel a stronger bond now, which is good, because I'm pretty selective when it comes to letting people get to really know me. Happy, happy, fun, fun! - The plan was then to go to the Saturday party at same place, but Jaylea felt terrible and Jade (who wanted to come this time) just disappeared. The day was not squandered however, because Helen invited me to the Icklesham Beer Festival. Icklesham is the sticks, it is in the middle of nowhere. Still being with good friends is fun no matter where it is. So away I went. - By the time I got to Helen's house, the drugs were obviously still working their way out my system and I felt weird as fuck. I explained this to Helen, and her knowing how insane I am, gave me some good advice - "Stop" lol. We had a beer, and I found out I'm officially recognised as a friend in the Kitteridge household. - Me and Helen walked down to the beer festival while her husband waited for his friend Tony, and decided our first drink should be a 6.5% beer called OTT. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, it was rancid. It tasted like rocket fuel and my internal organs silently screamed. I then switched to cider thinking it was a better option, not knowing it was 8%. Yep, I was drunk after three drinks. - While watching the band, I saw an old College mate I haven't seen in forever, went up to him and had a catch up. Thankfully my conversational skills worked this time. So after discussing the obvious - What you're doing, what happened to the others, etc, I call Helen over to meet Phil and turns out she alreadys knows him from their days on The Youth Council (you have no street cred now, Helen lol), but not only that, she knew his friend who I had only just met too. Hastings is just too small, everybody knows everyone. It made me think though, I used to go back to The Youth Council offices to hang out with Phil sometimes, I could have actually met Helen back then if I had actually got involved, which Phil wanted me to do back then. Life is a wonder. - I had one pill left and me and Helen decided to split it, I didn't really feel much though. I then went around stealing hay stacks to sit on. We formed a circle, and I went up to this random 50-something year old woman with her 70-something year old dad and asked them to "join our commune." The guy said, "I've wanted to join a commune." Finally, somebody at that place understood my humour, it didn't go down too well with Helen's teenage friend who seemed to think I was "looking down on him." I don't know where he got that impression from, all I did was say, "God damn Icklesham inbreds, these days" in response to Helen. COME ON! - A middle-aged woman came up to me and said I had "the coolest shirt at the whole festival", and then said, "I was wondering how much you charge for sex?" Darren and Tony then erupted in laughter, and I just sat there thinking what is it about me that attracts this amount of weirdness. After a couple of minutes Tony asked me if I was working out a price in my head. Hahaha, golden. The shirt looks like this... http://img.auctiva.com/imgdata/3/3/8/3/8/7/webimg/45919786_o.jpg - Me and Helen had a hay fight, and overall she knows I murked her. She did however throw hay in my cider and make it undrinkable, so a lesson was learnt - Helen fights dirty. I now know I never want to get into a real fight with her, she'd probably cut my hands off and tell me to hold on. Damn you Mexicola, you miscreant. - I temporarily convinced Helen to roll with me to the big party, but she wanted to go home to change first, barnyard couture isn't her thing apparently. Then back at the house she changed her mind, we ate pizza, her husband went to bed, she cooked more food and ZOOM! I had an emotional breakdown and felt like the world was ending, I started babbling on about something personal, and even had tears running out of my eyes. I then went back home, went to bed, and could smell Jaylea's perfume in my room and it made me cry. Yes, I am one tangled piece of string. Manic-depressives should not tamper with their chemical imbalances, it ends up in a very bizarre and morbid place. I am officially off drugs. In the words of Talib Kweli, "We get high on all types of drugs, when all we really need is love." I now know, I don't want to be alone anymore, and I'm going to take stock of that. Good Night and Memnoch Bless! Current Mood: grateful (Comment on this)
Sunday, June 8th, 2008
9:11 pm	The Button Was Pushed So after fighting the good fight my dog was put down yesterday afternoon, unbeknownst to me. We got Jake from a home when he was quiet young, he was a rescue dog, and because of this he was ultra well behaved because the previous owners just neglected him. It's hard to believe we got him in 1996 (when I was 12 years old) and he lived until I was almost 24. If you've read previous blogs of mine I've mentioned him having problems, mainly his back legs going out, and I knew this day was going to come, but I'm absolutely fucking furious with my dad because he could have informed me that he was being put down so I could have at least said goodbye. And you know it's crazy because yes it's just a dog, a pet, a non-human entity; and yes people get shot, die of aids, babies come out stillborn, etc, everyday, but I don't give a fuck, there's a reason it's called personal tragedy. That dog was a part of this family. Now because he's gone my last living memory of Jake is him barking and waking me up at 7 am because he needed to go out, me getting up annoyed, head spinning from hitting the hookah and whiskey too hard, and opening our front door and ordering him to piss on the fire escape. He didn't do this, instead he ran down the stairs, and went over to the beach, like he's been trained to do, but normally with somebody. I was like, "Ah, man," ran upstairs, put some shoes on, and looking like a zombie, ran around the corner wearing the clothes I sleep in. He had made it to the other side of the street but his legs had gone out again. Some random guy was walking up to him and I had to say, "Nah, he's mine, leave him alone" and I picked him up, helped him over to the beach, and then took him back home. I then went back upstairs and collapsed. When I awoke again, not finding it unusual for him to be absent from the house (he's down in the bar alot), I just went about my day. My friend Helen called me and asked if I wanted to go out, so I pulled myself together, and as I'm getting ready to leave I heard my dad come up in the house and then go back downstairs again. By this time Jake had been put to rest, but he neglected to mention this to me before I left, what kind of cowardice bullshit is that? I went to the Carlisle with Helen and Greg to see some bands, was having a good night, really enjoying the conversation, getting a buzz on, when me and Helen decided to go back to my bar as everywhere had huge lines. About three minutes after being home, I asked my dad where Jake was and he said, "He's gone." And I was like "Gone where?" and he repeated, "He's gone." I was thrown for a loop, but I had Helen with me, other people were in the bar, etc, and I didn't want to make a scene. I just tried to divorce the information almost as soon as I heard it, and kept on trying to socialise and make jokes, and then when everybody was leaving it was becoming apparent I was about to crash and burn. In a last futile effort to avoid dealing with the issue, I called Kirstie to see if she was out, but was having problems getting through. I figured she was in the Crypt because you can never get a signal down there, so after Helen went home I headed down there. Long story short, the Crypt was shut, I walked along the seafront, then up to mum's house in Ore (this probably takes about 50 minutes to do) because I couldn't go into my house knowing I might flip the fuck out. My mum always locks the door from the inside, so I had to wake her up at like 3:30 am and when she asked me what was wrong I just said, "Jake's been put down" and started crying uncontrollably. I guess the first step is admittance. It's depressing, it really is. I doubt I'm going to cry again, but it was almost surreal coming into the house today and not being greeted by Jake. I don't know why I'm even writing this. What the fuck. http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b50/OmnipotentJD/jake.jpg ^ My brother, Jake, me, and my sister in 1996. Rest In Peace Jake, you deserved better. Current Mood: sad (Comment on this)
Wednesday, June 4th, 2008
12:31 am	Broken Thoughts, Frozen Heart I was just looking at a blog I wrote this time last year... http://ordo-abchao.livejournal.com/9871.html ...And Franz Kafka was right about the diary, it's a great tool for monitoring change. I now see that things have changed, and in some cases improved for me, and that feels good to acknowledge. The first sentence of the blog remains, I couldn't have flunked my exam any more unless I wrote my answers in a different language; or possibly hieroglyphics, but then again I knew that was going to happen before I even wrote my name on the front of the exam paper. This at first didn't really set in with a negative affect, in fact when Helen called me shortly after I made a joke about it being a -25 on a 1 to 10 scale, and then the more I dwelled on it all it did was make my right brain go into hyperdrive. But later on I realised this could spell failure for me. All I want to do is get the pointless piece of paper known as a degree and get out of this town. So the crux of the matter now is what happens if I don't graduate, what's my plan B? I feel as though I'm not supposed to be just another cog in the machine, but I'm sure everybody feels that way before the real world gobbles them up. But then again the way my mind twists and turns has always been odd, and at times comical to me. For instance... I had finished writing as much as I could for the first two questions and then looked up at my Systems Analysis lecturer and my concentration was immediately diverted. This particular teacher has a deformed hand like the caretaker in Scary Movie 2, and all I could think is has he ever been with a woman with that hand? Has he ever been in a fist fight? I mean picture it. He could have a titantic Mike Tyson right, and then he'd step in with the 1,2 and the gimp hand wouldn't make an impact. Could he load a shotgun with one hand like an action hero? My mind wanders. Then I looked up and saw that the clock was falling off the wall and I had to write quicker. Well, actually I didn't, because I didn't know any of the information I needed for the last question, so I just quoted 'The Shining', "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," and then lightly crossed it out so it could still be read. I'm hoping the fuck happy pencil pushing transexual android who marks my paper gives me points for humour, probably not. In the event I'm Houston 620 fucked, I'll just return to the moon and rip jaws off aliens and form a jazz band with Thelonious Monk. Other things that have changed are my social skills, and the fact that I now drink (myself into a coma most weekends lol). It feels good that I went from being 110% hermit, and at times suicidal, to actually meeting people I have a genuine affinity with, and being able to enjoy my home town, which has been completely off the cards for the past X amount of years. So to all the sincere people that have entered my realm in the recent past, I'm thankful for your presence... "A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though he knows that you are slightly cracked" - Bernard Meltzer. Indeed. Well, in the spirit of feeling like an ashtray on a motorbike I think I'm going to drop acid and go to the Blue Reef aquarium tomorrow, I like fish (no FILF references please, Helen). Shout Outs... Kurupt for making 'Tha Streetz Iz A Muthafucka' and giving me aggressive music to walk out of university to and feel like being an illiterate was OK. Track 7 is the lick (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PX__lHXZPGo). Helen for the social invites and for lighting my cigarettes for me. When I get cancer I'll be sure to send you a fruit basket. You're my favourite unguent friend. Greg for his comparison of dogs trapped in cars to the Jews in 'Schindler's List', and also for driving me home. The people from my secondary school in Tin Tin's on Saturday who were too scared to approach me because they know I'm an incorrigible mess. Calendars get recycled, but my cynicism does not. Gavels for the snakes, die motherfucker die. Annnnnd scene. Current Mood: pleased (Comment on this)
Thursday, May 15th, 2008
5:15 pm	What The Moon Brings So yesterday I had to take a urine sample from my dog. No really! My dog is about 17 years old (that's pretty old, apparently) and has been having some problems with his stomach. So after spending the day in Eastbourne, I come home around midnight and it's raining. As if collecting canine piss wasn't mortifying enough, I now had an obstacle. I'm not sure what the policy on using urine to establish internal problems is, but I figured water getting in it could tamper with results, so I had to improvise. After tearing my house apart, I found a bright blue umbrella (ella ella eh eh eh), took a stew pot to hold the goods, and then set out on my mission. So it's a Wednesday, after midnight, and raining, at least there's no witnesses, I tell myself. Then when I'm half way across Winkle Island (stupid homoerotic name) I see that there's a taxi and BT van parked (inexplicably). WONDERFUL! So... To make sure my dog doesn't just run away to handle his business, I grab him by the collar and get the stewpot ready. Jesus, the poor animal had clearly not been out for hours, he pissed like a racehorse forced to listen to a jungle waterfall on CD all day. So after completing my prime directive, I put the stewpot under the umbrella, avoiding the (I'm assuming) strange looks from the parked gentleman, and got back to homebase. I then cleaned a peanut butter jar out and filled the whole thing up. My brother and Dan came home shortly after, and I proudly stated, "That's right boys, some fine dog piss." I then put it in the fridge, and went downstairs to have a few drinks and talk about death for close to two hours (we're a morbidly cheerful bunch). Then while behind the bar, I found a small tube that had been given to us from the vets to put the urine in. Long story short, I now have a close to full peanut butter jar of watery pet fluid in my fridge. I was thinking of saving it for Halloween, I dare you to knock on my door for candy this year, bitches. I also broke my mum's picnic bench at her house this week too. We were having a BBQ in the back garden and the bench just snapped under me (it's old, I don't need to join Weightwatchers, honest). I just laid on my back, legs suspended in mid-air, holding a spicy sausage on a stick. When I angrily stood up my brother said, "Do you want a tissue?" to which I replied, "Why, have I got ketchup around my mouth or something?" and he said, "No for the tears, don't cry." Hahaha, walked into that one. It appears we have a stalemate Billy Doyle. But I promise, we WILL meet again! But here's the best part of my week: I found an answer I've been searching for my entire life. I've always asked myself why do I think the way I do, why am I slightly off mentally. It's my mother. I was sitting in her living room listening to Eva Cassidy (Over The Rainbow is a suicide incentive) and my mum's boyfriend sarcastically said, "That's normal," to her doing something in the kitchen, and she replied, "Who said I wanted to be normal?" AH HA, it's you. She clearly used me as her human guinea pig and then wiped my memory once I started going berzerk as a child. The truth shall set me on fire. Things That Annoy Me Endlessly (Part 4) Can't You Wait: OK everybody has a friend or knows somebody who does this. You arrange to meet somebody at a coffee shop, cafe, etc, and you get there before them. You go in and take a seat, and when they finally turn up they knock on the window to inform you they've arrived before they come in. WHY? Could you not wait two seconds and just go inside? Why did you have knock first? WHY. I will slit my wrists vertically if I ever find myself doing this. Self-Important Bartenders: You pour liquor into glasses, you're not special. Give me 5 months and I'll train squirrels to take your jobs. Google Idiots: You're online, if you don't understand something or want an answer then fucking google it. I hate people who ask questions on messageboards when we have search engines. Stop being lazy, you sloth chest bastards. Rhythm Is A Watcher: I want to 'snap' your necks. You know those people at clubs who stand by the dancefloor and watch the others dance. I mean I've been drunk and made fun of people trying to dance, but I hate people who are completely coherent and just watch. Either get drunk or go the fuck home. Thank you and good day! P.S. There's going to be a sequel to Donnie Darko... http://www.cinematical.com/2008/05/09/donnie-darko-sequel-coming-unfortunately/ Must Hollywood butcher everything good. It's bad enough that they've ruined countless great foreign films, but this is over the line. Current Mood: devious (Comment on this)
Saturday, May 10th, 2008
9:42 pm	The Iron Lotus It was approaching midnight on a Friday. I stood before the glittery borders of a new radius in search of the fabled city of seagulls and crushed velvet. I found it. And so it goes... So with a mixture of excitement and morosity... and Tramadol and vodka, I ventured into town with my 18 year old crew (OK so I imposed myself onto my brother and his friends, but they still like me... I ignore the glowering in contempt to maintain this viewpoint). So I find myself in The Brass Monkey, as shockingly usual. I play the bar, have a few drinks with my brother, and then he goes outside to the smoking area and the temporary abandonment sends the flashflood signal out for the vultures to land. So a 40 plus year old woman comes and sits next to me and opens up our newly formed bond with the line, "I have a son your age." Ooh baby, slow down, you gotta buy me a drink first. So I thrill myself and respond, "So you have a 13 year old son with abnormal ageing behaviour?" She smiles and responds, "He's 17." Now, I'm 24 this year, so to be compared to a 17 year old is insulting. The peach fuzz is almost gone and I have at least 6 chest hairs, show some respect, bitch. She then asks me what my ambition in life is, so I explain my plans to go to Japan and teach next year, and like everybody I tell this to, looks confusingly impressed. She then instructed me to stop slouching in my chair, which is basically a terrible habit, I'm like 6'2, but you'd never know it sitting or standing. I try, but it just feels wrong, I've spent years working on developing scoliosis, I can feel the effort nearly coming to fruition. She then tells me I have "the most beautiful face," and to cover up my raging insecurity and hatred of being complimented I respond, "Yes, I'm mentally disturbed," to which she responds, "That's nice." Is it now. She then says I should be a gentleman and buy her a glass of wine, so I did the only thing a well-mannered man could do, and excused myself to the bathroom and pretended I didn't hear her ask me for a drink. Shortly after it's unanimous, we are all bored as fuck, and decide to leave. We walk to the town center, and just outside McDonalds my friend Dan sees some kids who know how to get weed and tries to get some. This turns into a 10 minute insultment fest, to which my brother always wins, because A). It runs in our veins and B). He will take it too far. For example, one of the kids said he's gay and my brother not only admitted it, but said he wanted to rape them all. Laughter and silence ensues. It then got personal, because my brother knew one of the kids from the skate scene, and he was trying too hard to be viewed as someone to fear, and my brother brought up the fact he jumped on the floor and begged not to be hit by some BMXers years ago. I chuckled, because A). I love onyx snow cones and B). Because I'm a colossal prick. Anyway, arguments occur, I get bored and go sit on a bench and enjoy the show. The town center then somehow turns into an armwrestling arena, using a black bin as the table. Yes, as usual, nothing ever ends in quiet boredom for me. We went from about 7 of us to 15, in the space of five minutes. I just sat on the bench amused, but there was this weight lifting type guy who was winning and my brother told me to jump in. I of course waved them off, but found myself getting pulled off my throne by Dan and George to clench the title for us. So we arm wrestled and the bitch went down. He then complained that I leaned and I started shouting, "It's Hastings, rules don't apply, LEANING IS IMPLIED, IT'S IMPLIED." Popeye Doyle, baby. Never a hack man (imdb that, ya heard). So after the high class elegance and adrenaline we decide to go back to town. We end up at Tin Tin's and decide to get a hookah (no relation to your Grandmother's profession). The owner doesn't want to service us as he's closing, but my brother's friend works there, so she puts in a word for us. So we smoke that shit like champs, lazer lungs, varnish eye glaze, it's serene. The owner then tells us we have to finish and George says, "Hit that, hit that," to which of course he doesn't. We continue telling him to do so, and he puts his hand over his mouth and pretends to. I then branded him "Bill Clinton" and we ejected ourselves from the bar. Also, sidenote: The girl behind the bar (blur specifics because Hastings is too small and I have enough enemies as it is) is an idiot. The first time I ever went into Tin Tin's I asked her if Snowy was still alive and she said, "Who's Snowy." Who's Snowy? Are you fucking kidding me. Don't let me find out I was the only introverted 9 year old who read comics growing up. Disgraceful. Now what goes well with hashish? That's right, kebab shop cuisine. It's like guns and knives. While waiting outside Flame Grill with Dan (who is banned for some inexplicable reason) some extremely square individuals walk up and Dan says, "Who are these homos?" To which I then noticed, were kids from my secondary school. I decided to approach them and said, "You went to St. Richards right? We did work experience together, the CSA," and he responded "You're Jack Doyle." All I said was "Guilty as charged, Sir" and he told me that my hair wasn't as blonde as it used to be and that my accent has changed. OK the blonde hair was rejected in loving embrace, in the mid 90's the girls loved me, but by the time I was coming of age Rah Digga saying, "I'll leave you twisted like a thug with blonde hair," made me realise I'd be way more hardcore without it. But my accent changing? I haven't left Hastings, how is this possible, I mean... Now that I think about it, I used to mumble in a deep voice, on the off chance I would actually talk to anyone. Oh how I miss my despondent teenage years. I then immediately ran out of things to say and decided to let Dan keep insulting them. Now for the Grand Finale. Walking back home, 5 deep, rancid burger in hand, Joey gets the idea that we should steal chickens from the closed shopping stands, that incidentally look like giant tents. He tries to pull the cover up on one of the stands and feels somebody reach out, which was hilarious, gypsies don't cut corners when looking for somewhere to stay at night, I tell you. We then walk further up and Joey does it again, this time we hit the jackpot. There is a basket with handmade winter socks, mittens, scarfs, hats, and a Husky teddybear (which Dan proudly took). Everybody took a few items, and we walked up to the benches outside McDonalds to appraise the score. Then the idea of going back for more is thrown in the air, to which everybody laughs, but doesn't comment. Lightbulb! If we're going to do something stupid allow me to bring home the gold medal, folks. So I confidentally stroll back down to the shopping stand, rip the basket out from under it, and began hightailing back up to the benches with it. I got everything (hit me on ebay later for prices). I am legend. Everybody was laughing, but then I looked up and saw a town center security guard walking towards us, radioing, so I'm like, "Oh shit, everybody run." So with goods in hand we did, and just as we came up by the wooden tunnel thing outside Iceland, a police car came around the bend. Now it could have been coincidence, but I'm pretty sure the full riot gear and tear gas were about to come out for the thermal sock bandits. Gangsta, homie. I then decided somewhere in the High Street to wrap a pair of socks around my mouth, pull my hood up and say "Myspace, facebook, take a picture now." To which my brother did... http://a855.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/2/l_474f3c0419eef6f0ef9016402a3eb57e.jpg My life is epic, from club boredom to gypsy larceny, I'm just a steel kite caught in the lightning. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to drink too much JD and listen to My Bloody Valentine before going out and trying to recapture last night's magic. Current Mood: hyper (Comment on this)
Thursday, May 1st, 2008
9:27 pm	The Hand With 5 Thumbs What it do, what it don't. I was with the Bedouins in the strawberry patch from 9 am until 2 PM, waiting for a symbol of salvation. My left arm is now completely numb. It should go without saying, that I am now banned from the Bubblegum Crisis commune. So I decided to have lunch in a restaurant today, just me, something I've never done before. I emptied my bag on the table whilst waiting, I was out of sorts in my arrangement skills. So whilst waiting for my Spanish omelette, I glanced at Madonna's sexcapades with aliens which were spread over the NASDAQ market quotes, accompanied by cigarettes and a yellow pepper. In hindsight I should have overdosed on DXM before eating, it would have been more zesty. But unfortunetly everything was not cherry, my worldly sophistication was insulted. Peep the fissura, son... Waiter: Is everything OK, Sir? Me: Can't complain Waiter: Is there anything else I can get you? We have some excellent Kiwis fresh in from New Zealand. Me: What! You're lying. Any fresh kiwis would come from California because the seasons are reversed. Waiter: *Shocked at the malevolence in my voice* I didn't know that. Thanks for telling me. Me: *Sucks teeth and fantasizes about a life that doesn't so closely resemble hell* I mean, was I out of line? I was left empty. It was unintentially amusing. Kinda like Richard Gere and Winona Ryder's chemistry in 'Autumn In New York.' Now... So I have quasi finished university now, just my final exams in June. I had to do my dreaded presentation in the computer suite, and as usual my social anxiety drummed a simple task up to be Cthulhu sized. I decided to start drinking in the morning, as when out in clubs I can be social when under the influence. Without it I'm fucking Edward Scissorhands, sans the scissor hands. I figured it would untighten my strings. So I get to my reserved place and try and attract absolutely no attention, because I figure my supervisors are going to run up on me as soon as I get there. An hour passes, my Smirnoff buzz has evaporated and I'm bored. My first supervisor finally comes up to me, and asks me to show him my work. I run through my project (an online ordering system combined with a CMS) and then comes the fear. I'm expecting this bastard to fire mass quantities of technical questions, but all he asks me is "So what was the hardest part?", "What are you most proud of," etc. I really need to calm the fuck down sometimes. Now just to wait for the second supervisor. I'm sitting alone for about 15 minutes before my second supervisor approaches and same routine. Now my self-confidence has increased, I feel comfortable doing it again. In fact, when the teacher said "Show me it," I almost opened facebook, logged in and said, "OK, so I call this facebook, it's a social networking site I created" for a joke, but I didn't want to over do it. So zig zag zig, same routine, I finish, but this time when I get asked what I've learned, I respond, "That I don't want to do this for a living." About 3 seconds (that seemed like minutes) pass, and he begins laughing. I'm thinking thank God. Then it strikes me, wait, you do this for a living, what the fuck are you laughing at?! So sacrifice a child to Molech, I felt good... For a second. My train wasn't coming in for another 20 minutes, so I just stayed seated and looked around. One thing I have done in my time at university, which is basically the impossible, is befriended absolutely nobody in 4 years. This is a testament to how strong my social anxiety and stupidity are. The latter because I threw my first pack of seroxat tablets down the drain as soon as I got them, and refused to be medicated. My friends who went away to university all developed rewarding friendships, met somebody special, etc, and I feel like I haven't changed at all. I like to joke that I'm vintage, I don't need to change, but eventually I return to being haunted by Ray telling me I should have went away in the first year. Oh well, the blood spilt, fuck it. Also, something that made me laugh is this kid I don't like had got this huge tattoo of a cobra on his arm. I was like "Wow, aren't you gully now." Fucking barking lamb, I would slaughter him. So the Spanish omelette was obliging, but the best part of the day was that I got an Ed Hardy 'Love Kills Slowly' hoody, worth around £60 ($120) for free. I bought it on ebay, but noticed a minor defect on it when I opened it. I asked the seller about it and they basically just told me to keep it and refunded me my money. Apparently they were extremely upset at the supplier and reputation means a lot to them. Shit, I wasn't that mad, just in wonderment, marvellous. Aiight, promo time. I would like to promote my homegirl Brittany's website... http://www.poshbrats.com/ She sent me some free soap samples, I'm particularly fond of the 'Smashing' scented Villainess soap. Very hardcore and masculine, indeed. So the choice is yours - Log on and buy something, or I will excoriate your face. Oh well, I'm dumber than a Taz on a beach chair with a Martini. It's Friday tomorrow, the night life beckons me. Things That Annoy Me Endlessly (Part 3) Common Interest Strangers: The other day I had to go to university to make a hand-in and I was wearing my The Cool hoody (http://i17.ebayimg.com/02/i/000/d6/08/f0f7_1.JPG) and some kid was staring at me and said "Yeah, Lupe Fiasco." I was like "Yeah" and then extended my hand. After that I walked away to the hand-in box and this kid tried to continue talking about him. I'm like yo, I gave you the complimentary pound, now be out. Selfish Ebayers: You know those bitches who don't return positive feedback for you and you have to send them messages threatening their families life, and then they leave you negative feedback and you get their home address from paypal and go and hunt them down. I know I'm not alone here. Sociable People: Die each and everyone of you. It's unfair that I need medication and/or alcohol to talk to strangers. I could have my own talk show if I was permanently on MDMA though. I learnt that last week in the club. I need to find Emma. Not Shiny: Fox Network for cancelling 'Firefly' after one season. Sure it's been 5 years, but still fuck them... Mal: "Sure. It would be humiliating. Having to lie there while the better man refuses to spill your blood. Mercy is the mark of a great man. (lightly stabs opponent with sword) Guess I'm just a good man. (stabs him again) Well, I'm all right." OK, be good to each other! Current Mood: devious (Comment on this)
Wednesday, March 26th, 2008
11:49 pm	Dark Seekers Random thought... I was just walking through the backstreets between the seafront and the High Street, and thought to myself: How wonderful would it be if it ran all the way through Hastings?! See, now with the smoking ban in the UK the streets are cluttered with people, so when you’re zombied out like me - Needing a shave, wearing rags, etc, and wanna make a quick stop at the convenience store, you can escape into the shadows, and it’s tranquil. Scream out dirt merchant, it echoes out Jack. Only thing I hate seeing is the oversized back windows of the Black Market (hipster spot), it ruins the gloominess. And plus the waitresses wear Kimono’s, which is just fad following and insulting. Well, this was a pointless rant, I feel superb. I am now going to enjoy the sandwich I chose from the putrid selection at the corner store, ummm nourishing. But before I do... Things That Annoy Me Endlessly (Part 2) Captain Obvious: I hate it when you're looking for something in a supermarket, searching the aisles for eons, and just cannot find what you want. But what I hate more is, when you decide to ask somebody working there for help and get this kind of response... Me: Excuse me, I'm trying to find some _____ could you tell me where I might find it, please? Captain Obvious: Have you tried looking on the shelves in the _____ section? Me: Oh shit, you're absolutely right. Why didn't I come up with that brilliant solution? Use my fucking eyes to look. Jesus, thank you, Mr. Tesla IQ. Cinema Conversationalists: Where is the logic in going to the cinema, paying for a ticket, and then talking through the feature? This enrages me like I can’t even begin to describe. When I went to see ’I Am Legend’ some girl shouted out "He’s fishing" on the scene where he’s, get this - fishing. Why? Do you usually attend movies with the blind? Have you only recently regained your vision? Did you learn what fishing was today? Shut the fuck up before I impale you on a spiked iron railing, you stupid bitch. "Cheer Up" Strangers: During the first year of university I was very depressed, had no friends on my course, very much on some Grandma Death "Every living creature on earth dies alone" shit, and there were a few occassions where I was sitting in the lecture theatre sinking into my own world, when random strangers would approach me and say things like "Cheer up" and "It can’t be that bad" to me. There were actually times were I was fine, but sometimes I just look annoyed or depressed (even my best friend has pointed this out), but as soon as these shallow, inconsiderate phrases were muttered I wanted a jet engine to fall on their rooms. When somebody is feeling down, pointing out that they look down and expecting weightless words like "Cheer up" to help them, not only doesn’t do that, it makes them feel worse. I hope you stupid gleeful fuckers who fit this description find out what it’s like to be on the opposite end one day. Repetitive Phrase Using: I can't remember who it was, or who they were talking to, but I remember listening to somebody give a friend advice and he used the phrase "At the end of the day" over and over again, until I just couldn't stop myself... Repetitive Phrase Using Prick: I understand how you feel, but look at it this way, at the end of the day... Me: ...is night Repetitive Phrase Using Prick: Sorry? Me: At the end of the day is night Repetitive Phrase Using Prick: *Confusingly staring* I'm slowly beginning to see why people find me unapproachable now. Current Mood: determined (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, March 13th, 2008
6:18 pm	The Champagne Room I’m about to embark on trying to complete 3 months work in 3 weeks, so this is my last moment of cyber joy. So wise so young, they say do never live long. So I went to a strip club for the first time a few weeks ago, and wow, talk about diamond encrusted awkwardness. I was with my friends Duke and Francis, and Duke was bombed out of his tree. He was dancing like Michael Jackson to heavy metal, and everyone in the bar we were at (before the strip club) were miserable looking goths, except for us. You get the picture. So after briefly mocking a band they had there, by throwing my hands up and shouting "Yeaaaaaaaaaa" like the biker in ’Little Miss Sunshine,’ we left. I’m like "Where are we going?" and Duke’s like "Let’s go next door for a drink," referring to the pub The Bell, and I say "What, XS?" and he’s like "No, but even better." Me and Francis spent about ten minutes trying to derail this idea, but he was an obdurate freight train. I had got wasted to the point I threw up the day before, and now realise when you pound the liquor, you build a fleeting immunity to alcohol, so despite drinking a triple whiskey and having like three JD and cokes before the strip club, I was dry as desert dirt. So we walk in, and from movies, I’m expecting to see an ocean of middle-aged businessmen making it rain, but it was dinosaur dead. We were the only people there, the music was so low you could barely hear it, and we had around ten strippers hawk eyeing us. We get some drinks, and I’m saying to myself "Please kick in now." One stripper walks up to Duke, and not needing any pursuation in getting a dance, he’s gone in ten seconds. Then another walks over and gives me and Francis a kiss (I then unknowingly walked around with a lipstick stain on my face all night, thanks guys), and then he gets talked into a dance. So I’m standing at the bar for dolo, teetotalic as fuck, and being stared at for about two minutes, before I get approached. So the girl’s name was Asheley, which coincidentally is my sisters name, and she tried to strike up conversation and ask me if I wanted a dance. I said "Ummm, no not really, but I’d like to leave this room, so let’s go." It was 2 for 1 night, so for £20 (that Duke paid) I got double the pathetic shame of having to pay a woman to grind on me. But the name, people. I start thinking "I wonder what my sister’s doing, right now" (don’t even think of making an incestuous joke lol), while she strips to the bone. About half way through the dance a power cut occurs. So we just sit on the couch in the dark, and I can tell this girl is more nervous than me, probably because I’m an intense weirdo without a buzz, and we start talking about future plans (both want to travel to Eastern Asia). Duke then comes in the room I’m in and invites me into another room. So I’m then sitting in this lounge like room with Duke, Francis and three strippers talking about life and making jokes. We decide the lights are not coming back on, so we leave. I’m confident Duke will be too drunk to remember to go back later on, but how wrong we were. After sitting in The Pig In Paradise for about 90 minutes, talking to some girl in the smoking area, playing pool, etc, we leave once more. And then spend ten minutes talking Duke out of it, again. Doesn’t happen. So we go back in, and me and Francis are like "I'm salvaging my dignity, keep the dance." But Asheley comes into the bar and says to me "You want the rest of your dance now?" and before I answered, I was being lead back to the room. Now here's where it gets fucked up. After about two minutes of the dance, I look up in the doorway and am being glowered at by two police officers. I'm like "What the fuck?" One of the cops then says "You look happy." I'm like "Yeah imagine me being uncomfortable getting a lapdance while two cops stare at me." After this, they DO NOT leave. I'm like "Seriously, what it is?" and then they turn around and leave. WHAT IN THE FUCK? As if being sober and getting a delayed lapdance wasn't weird enough, I have two badges watching me too. Everyone I have told this story to laugh, and yeah I can now, but at the time I was like, "What is it about me that makes these random things occur." I highly doubt I'm going to a strip club again, but Asheley was not only very attractive, but actually genuinely nice, and I say the latter, because Duke ended up getting 3 dances (which I guess made 6) and later on in the night she walked over to ask how I was, and didn't ask for another dance. So I guess the song of the day is 'T-Pain - I'm In Love With A Stripper,' joking (sort of). Amusing sidenote: On Duke’s last dance he didn’t have the £20, so he asked to borrow it from me, so I gave it to him and the stripper he chose came up to me and said "Thank you" LMAO. Manners and pole dancing, I heart Club XS. And as a bonus, because I’m charitable... Things That Annoy Me Endlessly (Part 1) Straight-Leg Jeans: Why is it when you go into stores to look for jeans, all you see is straight-leg jeans nowadays? It is becoming increasingly difficult to be a man. I don’t know when it became cool to rock nut huggers, but I can’t style with this Elton John shit, it’s very emasculating (almost literally). Elevator Imbeciles: So you get in an elevator alone and press Floor 3, and then somebody else comes in the elevator, also needing to go to Floor 3, so they look and acknowledge you have already pressed the button, then press it again. Why? Are elevators like the turnstiles at the trainstation? One ticket, and then they close again? No, they are not, you stupid muthafucka. Go to jail! Go directly to jail! Do not pass go! Do not collect $200. Lonely Transport Frequenter’s: I know each and everyone of you has been on an empty bus or train, and had somebody come and sit either next to you, right in front of you, or directly behind you. The fucking train is empty fam, there are 100 seats for you to chose from, why next to me? I know I’m rather unique, but please control your urgencies to invade my breathing room. I’m probably like one of three people on earth who enjoy sitting away from people. Fake Hip-Hop Fans: Oh you heard an Eminem album, really? Get the fuck out of my face, you parasitic leech. It takes years to actually be a fan, I thought I knew some shit in 1998, I didn’t. But these kids are always like "I like rap, yeah 50 Cent, Snoop, Eminem..." I’m like "How about Scarface? Vakill? Are you aware of who Tragedy Khadafi is?" Long jump off a short cliff and stop insulting me, please. *Breakdances on the computer desk* Ignorant Typers: I always liked it when Canibus said "Ebonics is dead," not only because it was ironical, but also so true around that time. But what’s even worse is adults who type like this, "Omygodz Janey, dat toetalee haz 2 men-e carbz, onoz yoo didnt jus do dat." There is a particular individual on my facebook page who types like this, and my blood boils to the point I want to hit delete on my Friends List. DIE! Current Mood: worried (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, February 12th, 2008
1:46 am	Small World Strange... After getting in an argument with a friend at a club a few weeks ago, I stormed out and left. I was pretty mad, and would have probably went outside and got in a fight with one of the fucking idiots talking shit in town, and then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and I'm like "What!" before I realised it's this kid Duke, who I went to school with. He was younger than me by two grades, but I had him and his friend Francis, sit at the back of the bus with us, because they used to get fucked with by these idiots, so I basically let people know, you touch them, I'm going to deal with you. Not that I was the school tough guy or anything, but I can't stand bullying. It was almost surreal seeing him grown up, it's been 8 years. Weirdly enough, it was his 21st birthday, so I'm like "Damn, let me get you a drink." We went and sat down and talked about what's been going on, and caught up. He asked me if I liked it in The Crypt (the club we was at) and I'm like "It's alright, but if I hear 'Nickelback - Rockstar' one more time, I'm gonna stab myself in the eardrums," and he was like "Let's bounce," so we went to the Brass Monkey (another club), which was a little more live, and had hip-hop music. We just chilled near the back, and caught up. It was fun. He then had nowhere to go, so at like 4 am, we went back to mine and just passed out on the couch. He's in the army right now, so he's training, but we exchanged numbers, and it's good to see he's still cool after all these years, a lot of people have developed egos and think they're special now. Stranger... On Friday, I went to The Pig In Paradise (bar) to meet Kirstie, and when I got there, she went to get me a drink, and this girl Holly came to the table and sat down, and said "Hi," and I'm like "What's up," and she's like "Who the fuck are you?" playfully, and I'm like "I'm Jack, I'm here with Kirstie, before you think I'm table invading," and she's like "Cool, I'm Holly." When I had briefly met her before (didn't get her name), I was convinced I knew her from somewhere. This time, after a little conversation I turned to her and said "Did you grow up in Ore Village, by any chance?" and she's like "Yeah, why?" and I'm like "Canute Road?" and her mouth drops. I'm like "I used to fucking live next door to you, number 60," and she's like "Oh my God, it's you. My family hated yours," and I'm like "Vice versa, small world." It was so bugged out. Her boyfriend tried to talk to her after, and she was like "I'm having a moment, hold on," I couldn't stop laughing. Our mum's would always argue. We used to play football in the garden, and the balls would always go over her fence, and it would piss her mum off royally (apparently she thought we did this on purpose, truth is, we were just terrible at football lol). She also bred cats that would shit all over our garden, and she thinks that's why my dad got a dog, to chase them away lol. Then years ago, my brother and cousin bombed her cat shed with wet toilet tissue, and she went mad. She was like "You terrorised my garden, threw shit in the pond," it was so funny. She then decided I owed her drinks for being "such a cunt" lol. She said she was kind of disappointed that I recognised her, she says she used to be kind of a geek, but is kinda goth now, but it was just a feeling, and I'm so glad I asked, because the evening would not have been as fun if I hadn't. After The Pig, we all went to the Brass Monkey, and I knew my brother goes there, so I went to look for him. He was in the big seating area with his friends, so I stumbled over the table to tap him. I'm like "Yooo, you want a drink?" and he turned around laughing. All his friends are looking at me like "Who the..." and my brother's like "This is my brother," and they're all suddenly happy to see me like "Heeeey." Funny how prejudgemental people are. So he came to the bar with me, we were talking, and I told him about running into our old neighbour, and he's like "Don't introduce us" lol. Holly came over and I told her "This is my brother" and she playfully slapped him, and my brother said "It was worth it though" hahaha. After that, I went to the sitting area, and there was this girl there who used to own my dog as a puppy, I can't claim this as a small world coincidence though, because he met her first. She was a real jabberjaw, but a nice girl nonetheless. It was interesting learning about where my dog came from. Around this time, Kirstie came over and told me she was going to The Crypt, and I told her I was gonna hang out for a few, so she told me to meet her in there. Then my brother is like "Me and Dan are going to the bar, you coming?" so I'm like "Yeah," and his friend got us shots. We had Sambuca and Apple Sourz (hardcore). Then I bought another round, and we went half's on the last. So we had like 6 shots, then just started making a lot of noise and making fun of the bar staff (there was a white guy with multi-coloured dreadlocks, and the girl was a stuck up bitch). Then again, back to the sitting area, and I met his other friends. He has a gay friend who was talking to me, and my brother interrupted like "This is my brother, he's straight," and the guy said "Oh OK, sorry," and I'm like wonderful, I'm being hit on by a homo on a Friday night lol. Then his other friends are like "Do you live in the house, I haven't seen you," I am a fucking myth. The girl who works in our bar was like "OHHHHH, you're Jack, I didn't think you really existed," a couple of weeks ago. His friend Dan is real cool though, we were talking about college, and stupid people who try too hard at clubs, and he was also even more drunk than me, so that was fun. By the time 2 am rolled around, they said they were leaving, so I made my brother's girlfriend give me a pound (much to everybody's amusement) and then I went outside and checked my phone. About 10 minutes before, Kirstie sent me a text and said she was going somewhere quickly, so I went to The Crypt thinking she would be back. I must have walked around, not found her, and went back outside to call her like 3 times. In the end, I saw her friend Laura in the club, and asked if she had seen her, and she hadn't, so I went to the back area to sit down, and who do I see passed out on the leather couch? Holly's boyfriend from earlier. So I'm like "You know Kirstie, right?" and he's like "Nah," and I'm like "OK, my bad". But then about 15 minutes later, Kirstie and Holly walk over, he was just too drunk to remember shit. Then BOOM, 'Nirvana - Smells Like Teen Spirit' comes on. I'm like "Finally, a good song." Kirstie dragged me to the dance floor, and for once it was great to have a song where we both knew the words, and we would point at each other on the "Yay" end of chorus part, it was wizard lol. ENTERTAIN USSSSSSSSSS. It was really fun, but the club closed after that song. At least we went out on a high note. So we walked outside, and I'm like "Damn Kirstie, you have to work tomorrow too," and Kirstie didn't care. I loved how she threw her inhibitions to the wind, and just went with it. She always says "It's the times you don't plan that are always the best," and she wasn't lying. Friday's are usually tame, a few drinks, and the jukebox, but because she works the next day, we never go to the club, and it's better on Friday's, because every single retard comes out on Saturday, but totally different this time. After this, we walked back to the Old Town, where I found out Holly lives too, and just hung out in her apartment. Me and Kirstie were wasted, so we just kept passing the glass of water back and forth lol. And me and Holly were talking about how strange it was to be hanging out after all the disputes in the past. I love life when things like this happen. I wonder who I'm going to run into this week lol. To be continued... Current Mood: jubilant (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, January 24th, 2008
2:06 am	Cynical Retraction A dark theatre, dimly lit by black candles, begins a night of events that will forever change my life. It was January 21, 2008 and... hahaha, I have missed writing blogs, but no... Have you ever used a coin changing machine before? I've had a Vodka bottle (I'm talking the huge ones you see in bars) for years, filling it up with nothing but 1 pence and 2 pence coins, and it finally reached the top, and was time to collect. So me, Kirstie, and Kristian drive to Bexhill, to find a machine. We find one in Tesco, and Kirstie goes first. She got £3 out of it (shameful Avril) and then I went up, and the trip turned into an adventure. The top of the bottle was so narrow the coins kept getting stuck, so I would keep shaking it and get about 25p out everytime. Long story short, we were there for about 20 minutes hahaha. The funniest part, was when these Japanese tourists stopped to look at what we were doing, naturally I asked if they were enjoying the show. I would like to thank Kirstie for laughing throughout all of this. I ended up with about £24, not bad, but way under what I imagined. You then have to go up to the checkout with your printed receipt to get your cash equivalent. The woman smiled in a "You're a cheap bastard" type of way, so I said "I've got kids to feed," bitch. Ah, to be young... Anybody who has ever read my blog, knows me and my dad bump heads on the regular, well I found another reason not to like him last weekend. Me, Kirstie and Juliette are in The Crypt (club) drunk (well I was anyway), and I saw my dad's friend, affectionally known as Monkey Dave (he used to let tourist's take pictures of themselves with a monkey he had, don't ask me where he got it from lol), just sitting there, waving his camera phone around. So here it is.. Reason #58: My dad befriends sexual predators. Lately I've been appreciating the little things - New friendships, socialising, getting bored of contemporary music and digging in the crates for the classics (Nina Simone is the bomb). About 9 months ago, I was lonely, deeply depressed, doing stupid shit like putting cigarette ends out on my arms, finding out from the doctor she has no problem putting me on Antidepressants, etc, now it's like the triple bolted door finally opened again. So on that note, I'll dedicate this blog to Kirstie, for her Kirstieness, they can't lay a glove on you (another movie reference you probably won't get lol), you made the Nautilus exit its shell, and he appreciates that. I love my new, significantly bigger monitor, the other one broke and needed to be violently beaten to make it come on. I'd wake up every morning like... "Aaaaaaaaand GO!!!" *5 minutes of hitting later* "COME THE FUCK BACK ON" Ahem.. *Catches breath* "AAAaaaaaaaand GO!!!!!" Interesting fact, it's illegal to pay for anything exceeding £20 with coppers. I'm looking for something that's £20.01, I need a new charge, my old one is... well not new anymore. Blessings & Miracles people, the lizard king has spoken Current Mood: happy (Comment on this)
Sunday, September 30th, 2007
9:01 pm	Through The Looking-Glass It would appear this is my first blog entry in close to two months, I guess the same complaints get tiresome to write about, and I’m sure even more so to read about (sorry .com-rades). I have to return to University for my final year next week; I’m going through the motions, the mental preparation, and realisation that this is the last straw. No more procrastination, I need to formulate a schedule this semester, I refuse to spend any more sleepless nights compressing weeks of work into a matter of days, it’s not healthy, and my grades are never where they need to be because of it. It was confirmed by my doctor that I have social anxiety disorder, and I learnt about treatments like cognitive-behavioral therapy, but I also read that CBT is more or less useless without medication, and I don’t want to become an emotionally numb zombie, so I’m just running against the storm and seeing where it gets me. My mum also told me some stories about how, as a child, if we visited strangers for a BBQ, birthday, etc, and there were a lot of people there, I would try and run away from the situation, or how if strangers would come to our house I would stay upstairs and hide from her calls to come down. I was amused by the whole thing, but I’ve basically learnt that I’ve always been the anti-people person now. This needs to change; I’m tired of the depression and feeling of general hopelessness. However, the light does creep through the black clouds when thinking of how much closer I am to taking the year out in Japan. I’m reading the Paulo Coelho novel ‘Veronika Decides To Die’, it’s about a woman called Veronika (bet you couldn’t have guessed that) who decides to commit suicide (that either) but survives the initial suicide attempt. She is then admitted into a mental hospital and finds out she only has a week to live, thus gets her initial wish. I won’t (nor can I be bothered) to flesh out the entire story (especially since I haven’t finished the book yet), but she has a change of heart, and then lives unrestricted in her last days. Not exactly the most original premise in the world, but it got me thinking about my own life. Basically I’m looking for a serious transformation in personal outlook, which is why Japan is my sole motivation at present. It represents the seed, the new beginning, the light. As soon as I get there I will (hopefully) meet my friend Dustin for the first time, we’ve known each other for close to 9 years online (how sad does that sound lol), and both grown together (the Cash Money message board days still haunt me), and that in itself will be a new experience. I momentarily smile. I also read about this documentary called ‘No End In Sight’ the other day, it explores the terrible planning America did for post war Iraq. Apparently planning took place 50 days before the invasion. 50 days? I’ve sat and thought about University projects for longer than that. Think of the lives lost. Unbelievable. “For tomorrow belongs to the people who prepare for it today” – African Proverb I'm off to prepare… Current Mood: awake (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 7th, 2007
5:01 am	Dog Day Afternoon This is an approximation of how I feel right now... Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm seriously gonna fuck around and kill my dad one of these days. This week in Hastings it's the annual carnival week http://www.1066.net/carnival/ohps07.htm, so I've had to wait around until 3 am to go to work. I love mopping a floor with bleach for 45 minutes, it's absolutely fucking sublime. Well anyway, I came down pissed off because I stayed up until like 6 am yesterday waxing the floor, and it was completely fucking pointless as the floor was basically glue when stepping on it. So I throw a few chairs around and my dad gets an attitude. I'm like "Whatever, just get the fuck out the bar already so I can continue my bullshit existence." He goes upstairs and then brings the dog back down to take him out before he goes to bed and he's like "I want to talk to you." I'm like "Jesus sanctifying Christ, it's 3 am, can this wait" and he starts this long diatribe about my attitude, and then starts talking about how the dog is in pain. The dog is fucking old, we've had it since I was like 13 years old, I'm 23 now. It's back legs are so weak that it can't climb steps anymore. My dad goes on and on about how it's sick, and starts screaming at me. Anyway he thinks we should put it down. So he asked me for my permission to put it down basically. I mean what the fuck kind of answer am I supposed to give to a question like that? I'm like "What the hell are you asking me for?" and he starts shouting about how I'm a child and can't have a conversation like an adult. WHAT IN THE FUCK... "OK dad, I understand the plight of a suffering canine, it would be in the best to put a permanent pause on the pulsation of its heart, I think that would be most agreeable." How am I supposed to, in good conscience, agree to killing a dog I've had for over a fucking decade? Just the thought of it makes me depressed. I know the dog probably isn't going to make it to 2008, but I don't need to be the catalytic element in it's demise. I could punch a fucking hole in the wall right now... Current Mood: angry (Comment on this)
Monday, June 11th, 2007
4:53 pm	Faux Pas Nature yo, nature. So I'm in charge of looking after my sister's demented dog today and here I am in the great outdoors. I'm actually writing this under a tree on a laptop, sad I know. I wish these fucking flies would stop buzzing around my head. So I've taken Kai (my sister's dog) up to these big fields where people go camping, and for the past 25 minutes he's ran around causing havoc. I thought, here's an opportunity to take some time to reflect, but instead I spent it shouting at Kai. "Kai get back here," "Kai come here," "Kai you've been castrated, why are you trying to dry hump that other dog?" You'd think people who like to sleep in tents with mosquitos attacking them all night would enjoy animals and shit like that, but not these bastards. Kai is only a couple of years old so he's still a little disobedient at times, but he's harmless for the most part. But these fucking people. Kai ran into this woman's tent and wouldn't come back when I called him, and this bitch has a conniption. I tried to make a joke like "You can't take him anywhere" and she just looks at me like "I'm not amused," like I care. As soon as I drag Kai away by his collar, he runs forward looking for his next victim. This family actually had a dog, but it was roped to their caravan, constantly barking. So I'm like "Not again, Kai for god sake..." and then the other dog started chasing Kai but came to the end of his rope. Kai might have acted like he didn't, but I know in the back of his mind he was saying to himself, "Asphyxiation time bitch." The next tent he envaded was actually this couple my age and they were cool. This girl was like "Awww" and I'm thinking if only you didn't have a boyfriend, I'd use Kai to make up for my utter lack of game, P-I-M-P. And lastly my favourite couple. These folk were elderly and retired, and Kai ambushed their tea party. You haven't lived until you've witnessed an old lady scream "Scat" at a dog for slobbering all over her quiche hahaha. What a day... Something that bothers me about dog owners is, why do they think just because you're walking a dog as well, that they can talk to you? "Hey I've noticed you have a canine friend too, I shutter to think what else we may have in common, perhaps we should exchange numbers and hang out some time." I mean what the fuck? Anyway the laptop is slowly dying so I'm going to end this here. So until next time friends. Same blonde hair, same blog channel. Goodnight everyone, thank you for coming. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, June 7th, 2007
3:42 am	Magnum Innominandum It was the last day of the semester today, I celebrated by fucking up a 3 hour exam. I never knew you could drown without water. My inspiration for just living is at an all-time low. I don't know if it's just apathy, but I've been really unhindered by intellectualised concerns this year. I acknowledge doing badly after an exam and couldn't care less five minutes later. I want to slip through the cracks. I don't think I could get up at 7 am every morning and work a regular job. I'll probably have a mental breakdown before reaching 30. This of course stems from the fact that I can't see any point in life what so ever. I've envisioned going to Japan for the past two years and having the time of my life, and when my yearly contract is up throwing myself off of the highest bridge I can find. Better to die fulfilled, right? But then again maybe I'll hate it over there too. I don't know. I don't recall things ever being idyllic, but I remember being a sociable person, I need atavisms to occur. So June to September, time free. I have to do something this summer, I'm tired of singing the same song. But this year has been wack as fuck, to put it mildly. There comes a time when you realise when the older folks used to say "School days are the best days of your lives" there was something to that. I never see my best friend anymore, and it's like he doesn't even really care. And I fell out with somebody I thought was my friend over money (say hi to the camera Dan). Friendship barely exists in my eyes, it's a tentative disposition. I'm tired of being stabbed in the back by people who are too selfish to consider anybody but themselves. Fuck the past, present and future. I just want to feel like there's a reason I'm here, I'm somebody, some form of palpable resoluteness...Anyway it's 3:30 am and I don't drink, life's a bitch. Current Mood: listless (Comment on this)
Friday, June 1st, 2007
12:13 am	Post Office Tortoises What is it with these fucking people who think the world's axial rotation stops when they're at the post office. I missed my train today because this old woman felt the need to talk about delivery options for three hours, and then when she finally decided what she wanted to do she pays by god damn credit card. "Put it in chip face up...No other way...No not like that...OTHER WAY BITCH." And then after she finally got it in, she took 25 minutes to type each digit of her pin code BLEEEEEED. If I had been able to find her after I got my shit done, I would have chased her down and said "Hey lady you forgot your stamps" and then gave her some...on her neck. Maybe I need a hug. P.S. Ghostface's song 'Block Rock' makes me wanna bitch slap an infant, delightful music Current Mood: cynical (Comment on this)