You’re all rapists.

I had to explain to a 13 year old girl why I couldn’t add her on Skype.

I started off with the obvious… “I’m a 27 year old man“, but bless her innocence she merely responded wih “So?“. At this point it’s just weird, so that was my next response. “It would be weird, sorry“.

Let’s throw a little fucking context in here, eh?

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Oooh I’m such a badass.

It’s been a while since I’ve spilled some beans in this place, so have a couple of work emails while I continue with Diablo 3. You may need to open some of the images because I screen-capped them too large. Bite me.

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Neighbours.

Oh my old neighbours, I never thought I’d miss you. With your shit dog, your regular family arguments, your damn budgie. Who the fuck even has a bird as a pet these days? I even miss your weekly visits to my front door where you stood smiling with a laptop in your arms and a “can you fix this?” look in your eyes. I miss you, my old neighbours. Because you’ve been replaced with one of the many things I don’t have the patience to tolerate,

Strangers.

One of them actually claims to work in “media”, who the fuck says that? I could say I work in media too, but I don’t, on account of not wanting to sound like a complete retard. Another one has a tribal tattoo on his forearm and deliberately rolls the sleeve of his shirt so you can see it better and then maybe say things like “oh my, what a lovely tattoo you have there, I am definitely impressed and feel as though we will get on just fine“. There’s another guy too, but I haven’t met him yet. I may have just heard him piss and fart at the same time though. Read the rest »

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Sad face.

Pretty sure there’s an article here somewhere about how much I hate shitty journalism, and a reference in other articles about newspapers being a great source of depression, but let’s not dwell on the past… it’s time to look at recent fucking events, and why they make me have a sad face.

I could quite easily do this every day, but I don’t want to read “news” every day… honestly, it destroys my soul. I’ll admit that a part of it could very well be jealousy, to think of a person or group… earning probably more money than me, being in a respectable position, and then just producing utter fucking phlegm that anyone with a two digit IQ absorbs like Bounty paper towels claim to. the other part of it is probably just anger,  to think of a person or group… earning probably more money than me, being in a respectable position, and then just producing utter fucking fart bubbles that anyone who thinks “The Sun” is worth any time of day would take as fact. Read the rest »

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Arachnoob’ophobia

I was having a super manly bath the other night while the flatmate was away (I feel my lies of wrestling alligators in the tub never did hold much water). And for a brief moment I had some bizzare … nope, bizzarre, nope… bizarre tranquility .. nope, tranquility , I’ve just typed the same thing twice. Tranquillity. Fucking hell. Yeah, I had that… it was a flashback to the day when I first moved into this house, and you know that feeling of “newness” you get when you move somewhere new? Well I had that, I was thinking “Y’know, life is pretty good, the doors of possibilities are open and I can just walk right on in“. Then an illogically placed mirror fell from the sink and smacked the wooden floor beneath it, fortunately it didn’t break. What it did do, was scare the living shit out of 2 giant spiders. In the panic… they decided to take refuge in the clothes that I’d left on the bathroom floor. I absolutely hate spiders, they always have the advantage of surprise over me, even if I’m staring at one… as soon as it moves, I’m shocked to my very core.

So there I was, not a moment ago thinking about how I might actually start doing something productive, and how great everything was… to now cowering in warm bubbly bath water, pupils fully dilated, grasping the edge of the fibreglass and thinking that this is probably the safest place to be right now. I had waves of man-power where I would tell myself that they’re just spiders… more scared of me than I am of them, but then I remembered how much they fucking scared me. I stand in shock whenever I see a large one, and they’re running around in my clothes? Fuck no, they know the ball is in their court. Read the rest »

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