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!
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