Sitting here, after watching this new series on iplayer, I started thinking....what would happen to me if i was like them..i know the program is purely for tv luls but i was imagining myself to be a lazy tearaway..slouching off in the sofa..ddemanding stuff to be done for me and living off any money my parents earn..LOL funny thing is, i actually am lazy and do slouch on the sofa sometimes demanding stuff to be done..but the rate at which i see it done on the tv is unbelievable
It got me wondering..
what if my own mother were like that to me..instead of being the nagging one she is now..would i turn out to be snobby like one character in the series? would i turn out to be gay? maybe so LOL.. would i turn out to be a rowdy teenager who gets pissed off at the slightness of something not going my way? i'm not sure.. all i know is that these extremes of character are something i wouldnt like to be associated with..whether living in my present situation..or if were fortunate enough, or unfortunate some might say, to be in the situation like the ones we see on the box
Its times like this I like to think of my mother doing a pretty good job on me..even though most of the time im slagging her off in my head..im kinda glad i didnt turn out like something out of gremlins lool..
So if you've got a mother or parent who nags at you for not clearing up the table..one who screams at you for the tiniest of dents on your car lool..or one who generally tells you to piss off anytime to ask for money..in my case..just know in the back of your mind if it were anything otherwise you could be sporting a half shaven head or blowing all your food budget on redwine and pot noodles or even worse..sticking fairy liquid in to the washing machine.. so these random acts of mild violence(LOL) are all done in love to make you the person soceity would love to value in future..
As Mark Twain said...A nation is only an individual multiplied”..i do pray these individuals are not like the ones im watching right now..
Actually i love this other quote from a guy named Edward Abbey.. Society is like a stew. If you don't stir it up every once in a while then a layer of scum floats to the top.” ..haahha stir it up in our hearts lord :)
so i urge you, despite the arguments..despite the random walk-outs to your room to sulk..and despite the evil looks..to just smile into their faces..knowing that this is probably for a greater good..:)
Tuesday, 27 July 2010
Sunday, 25 July 2010
Insert quirky blog title here..
So yes..heelloo..this feels like im having my own show..except im staring at a screen with no auto cue..damn :(..anyhoo after my debut attempt i have been told blogging needs to be quirky..wierd..with slighly pungent views or erratic language but something that is an entertaining read..seriously wtf???? i thought it was just a basis of spewing out what was on my mind to the internet..i mean isnt that what people do these days?
Anyhoo..this is technically meant to be day 2..but i felt in the mood for writing more so hey lets goo..
This weekend was very eventful, and this story is going to end with my mum having a rant again..i think im mostly going to rant off her rants on here lool..so be warned..
Right so yes hey, its partytime in a suburb of west london called feltham..yours truly has been invited to grace that function by a lovely girl in the lower year..generally excited..imean she has a trampoline..how awesome lool..so here comes the hurdle at which i most fall at when it comes to places i have to go to..asking for permission..yes, people my parents are the type that which one has to state the exact where abouts of where one is going at least 48hours before said event..even sometimes that is too short notice and leaves you pondering how you got stuck with these two..
The other problem with what i like to nickname 'the african masters of killjoy' is that if one decides to take the conditions of stating the exact whereabouts of where one is going too literally, then one might find that before a sentence is finished a thunderous two letter word hits your face like a baseball dented into your sides from an excellent strike of it..so the easy option to take, its to lie your way out of it..an action which has become second nature to me when any situation involves them..the art of using anything as and advantage was my forte..saying the 'house captains' had to "help out" at a school event to get to go to parties was a regular line and the best thing was that it worked.. anyway, so you guessed it..i lied through my teeth to be able to go..it worked..i played the 'a bunch of guys, playing video games and eating out of the fridge' card..:D..so very proudly on saturday evening i got dressed and was about to leave the house into a night of drinking and wild antics untiiiill..i got stopped just before and was asked to give the address off said party hosts house, for i was to be picked up.......
I shat my pants...shit..but i had lied and said i was going to guy friends house..what the fuck to do? here my improvisation came handy..made up a story about another guy friend going on holiday in the early hours of the morning, which meant he would have to be picked up, so i would get a lift from him..reluctantly they let me go..and feeling smug i left the house to enjoy a night of silly drunkeness and intense trampolining and came home fairly wasted but content at my nights work.....or so i thought!
Fast forward to sunday..today..its evening and in order to gain better internet signal i'm sat downstairs with the 'rents..all is well apart from the general complaints from my mum that i dont talk to her much, but im a guy ffs what do you expect..anyhoo she suddenly breaks out with the question 'so why didnt you let us pick you up yesterday?'..again im sat there thinking oh fuck..i cannot say i lied and didnt want you to know i was at a house party getting my face into pint glasses of straight vodka..so with my failing improvisation i conjured up a sentence which upon second thought will come to ruin the rest of my days here..i blurted out in the moment..'"but mum at 18, getting picked up from a party is not a good look and isnt cool"..which you know, doesnt sound so bad does it..Nooo..not with them..she suddenly broke up into a random tangent about me using that word 'cool' and the next thing i know shes going on about how my friends will think "at 18 its cool to be drinking, sleep around and its cool to be having std's"..i am now suddenly helpless to her suggestions..i cannot defend myself because i brought this upon me..and i am left having to be silent and just taking it all in because i cannot say to her that she is talking drab because i am doing 75% of what she is complaining about behind her back..:emo: in fact sometimes i feel like one day i might snap and say to her;mum you know what i do drink when i go out all the time, and i have had sex before..and it felt quite the awesome lool..but i fear once i do this it will be the end of my life on earth..so for now i must succumb to this misery..until i can gain my freedom..which by the sounds of it, i'd have to have graduated uni and be in a job before :(..
On a side note..there has been an ongoing argument with me and a friend over ironing..she thinks its a waste of time that i spend my sunday afternoons doing heaps of ironing for the house and it makes me look gay..which yes i admit it does, but surely there are benefits to having your clothes ironed all the time and looking fresh and crisp..i know she will be reading this so please i need some comments defending ironing..and defending men who iron..ffs lool!
Anyhoo..this is technically meant to be day 2..but i felt in the mood for writing more so hey lets goo..
This weekend was very eventful, and this story is going to end with my mum having a rant again..i think im mostly going to rant off her rants on here lool..so be warned..
Right so yes hey, its partytime in a suburb of west london called feltham..yours truly has been invited to grace that function by a lovely girl in the lower year..generally excited..imean she has a trampoline..how awesome lool..so here comes the hurdle at which i most fall at when it comes to places i have to go to..asking for permission..yes, people my parents are the type that which one has to state the exact where abouts of where one is going at least 48hours before said event..even sometimes that is too short notice and leaves you pondering how you got stuck with these two..
The other problem with what i like to nickname 'the african masters of killjoy' is that if one decides to take the conditions of stating the exact whereabouts of where one is going too literally, then one might find that before a sentence is finished a thunderous two letter word hits your face like a baseball dented into your sides from an excellent strike of it..so the easy option to take, its to lie your way out of it..an action which has become second nature to me when any situation involves them..the art of using anything as and advantage was my forte..saying the 'house captains' had to "help out" at a school event to get to go to parties was a regular line and the best thing was that it worked.. anyway, so you guessed it..i lied through my teeth to be able to go..it worked..i played the 'a bunch of guys, playing video games and eating out of the fridge' card..:D..so very proudly on saturday evening i got dressed and was about to leave the house into a night of drinking and wild antics untiiiill..i got stopped just before and was asked to give the address off said party hosts house, for i was to be picked up.......
I shat my pants...shit..but i had lied and said i was going to guy friends house..what the fuck to do? here my improvisation came handy..made up a story about another guy friend going on holiday in the early hours of the morning, which meant he would have to be picked up, so i would get a lift from him..reluctantly they let me go..and feeling smug i left the house to enjoy a night of silly drunkeness and intense trampolining and came home fairly wasted but content at my nights work.....or so i thought!
Fast forward to sunday..today..its evening and in order to gain better internet signal i'm sat downstairs with the 'rents..all is well apart from the general complaints from my mum that i dont talk to her much, but im a guy ffs what do you expect..anyhoo she suddenly breaks out with the question 'so why didnt you let us pick you up yesterday?'..again im sat there thinking oh fuck..i cannot say i lied and didnt want you to know i was at a house party getting my face into pint glasses of straight vodka..so with my failing improvisation i conjured up a sentence which upon second thought will come to ruin the rest of my days here..i blurted out in the moment..'"but mum at 18, getting picked up from a party is not a good look and isnt cool"..which you know, doesnt sound so bad does it..Nooo..not with them..she suddenly broke up into a random tangent about me using that word 'cool' and the next thing i know shes going on about how my friends will think "at 18 its cool to be drinking, sleep around and its cool to be having std's"..i am now suddenly helpless to her suggestions..i cannot defend myself because i brought this upon me..and i am left having to be silent and just taking it all in because i cannot say to her that she is talking drab because i am doing 75% of what she is complaining about behind her back..:emo: in fact sometimes i feel like one day i might snap and say to her;mum you know what i do drink when i go out all the time, and i have had sex before..and it felt quite the awesome lool..but i fear once i do this it will be the end of my life on earth..so for now i must succumb to this misery..until i can gain my freedom..which by the sounds of it, i'd have to have graduated uni and be in a job before :(..
On a side note..there has been an ongoing argument with me and a friend over ironing..she thinks its a waste of time that i spend my sunday afternoons doing heaps of ironing for the house and it makes me look gay..which yes i admit it does, but surely there are benefits to having your clothes ironed all the time and looking fresh and crisp..i know she will be reading this so please i need some comments defending ironing..and defending men who iron..ffs lool!
who said all what a black man talks about is the size of his penis?
right..so this is my first attempts at blogging..at first i thought this would be something cool..hip..wait why the hell did i jsut say hip..makes me sound like some gay indian from a russel peters sketch....anyhoo erm yeh..but as i was discussing with the gf, it may turn out to be an internet diary..and im a person who hates writing diaries because im a guy, and frankly a diary will make me look even more gay..as if liking musicals, twilight, westlife and having girl best friends doesnt make me join the gay west london community..*sigh*
over the course of these writings you may realise i incorporate some expressions into my thoughts..some of you may refer to these as 'tsr smileys'..i just like to think of them as my new found language..i cannot text or send an email without adding a :rofl: or a :E or most of the time, :sexface:..i usually get complaints but ah what the heck..once you know what you're typing and what you mean..these added touches make you smile a lot more..
The object of this is to make you, the reader..whoever you are..laugh, cry, smile, scream, gasp, whatever..just dont jizz on your screen..i wouldnt want to clean up that mess..
Did anyone else intend their first blog to be a mega post of nothingness and then halfway through see that you're stuck in a lull and this might be a massive fail, well ive just got that now..but im ploughing on..feeding you guys with whatever shite i can wing off the top of my head and use it..whats that stuff called in acting? improvise..yes thats the word..if only i could do that a lot more, instead of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time..especially to my parents..classic example here..so my gf comes over..and she brings a bottle of wine, and we share it..'twas nice..i liked her being here, after that had been consumed..as a sensible boy i put the bottle in the recycling bag, thinking oh i shall save the environment after polluting it in the hours before..(for those who didnt get this i meant noise pollution :hubba:.. ) but nooooooo a few hours later my mum finds the bottle..by chance..i mean which mother digs deep into the recycling bin? wtf..so yeh she angrily calls me down and starts an interrogation session.(dw the improvisation problemo is just here) she screams 'where did you get this from' and me, trying not to reveal the fact that i had a woman in the house, which would have been worse, pu tthe blame on 'the guys i had round after a football match' her anger is subsided but still she has a moan about bringing friends here and doesnt trust patrick and my other mates anymore..sorry paddy..i now cannot use "pat's house" as a viable excuse to get out of the house and on to tsr meets..if only i had made something else up on the spot..ah well..i dont get much freedoms anyway so why was i expecting any different..
hmm that was quite the essay..but at least ive got htis first one out of the way..very much more shall follow lool
over the course of these writings you may realise i incorporate some expressions into my thoughts..some of you may refer to these as 'tsr smileys'..i just like to think of them as my new found language..i cannot text or send an email without adding a :rofl: or a :E or most of the time, :sexface:..i usually get complaints but ah what the heck..once you know what you're typing and what you mean..these added touches make you smile a lot more..
The object of this is to make you, the reader..whoever you are..laugh, cry, smile, scream, gasp, whatever..just dont jizz on your screen..i wouldnt want to clean up that mess..
Did anyone else intend their first blog to be a mega post of nothingness and then halfway through see that you're stuck in a lull and this might be a massive fail, well ive just got that now..but im ploughing on..feeding you guys with whatever shite i can wing off the top of my head and use it..whats that stuff called in acting? improvise..yes thats the word..if only i could do that a lot more, instead of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time..especially to my parents..classic example here..so my gf comes over..and she brings a bottle of wine, and we share it..'twas nice..i liked her being here, after that had been consumed..as a sensible boy i put the bottle in the recycling bag, thinking oh i shall save the environment after polluting it in the hours before..(for those who didnt get this i meant noise pollution :hubba:.. ) but nooooooo a few hours later my mum finds the bottle..by chance..i mean which mother digs deep into the recycling bin? wtf..so yeh she angrily calls me down and starts an interrogation session.(dw the improvisation problemo is just here) she screams 'where did you get this from' and me, trying not to reveal the fact that i had a woman in the house, which would have been worse, pu tthe blame on 'the guys i had round after a football match' her anger is subsided but still she has a moan about bringing friends here and doesnt trust patrick and my other mates anymore..sorry paddy..i now cannot use "pat's house" as a viable excuse to get out of the house and on to tsr meets..if only i had made something else up on the spot..ah well..i dont get much freedoms anyway so why was i expecting any different..
hmm that was quite the essay..but at least ive got htis first one out of the way..very much more shall follow lool
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