"...the seaside town that they forgot to close down"
It would appear that once again I have fallen prey to some kind of bizarre mental state.
I'm here in front of my screen at nearly 3 in the morning. I didn't go to work today (for reasons that I truly do not know - which is a bit of a worry) so I ended up sleeping til noon. Therefore I have only just begun to feel tired. I cannot go to bed now. So here I am with 3 hours to kill.
I've just watched "Fight club". Now I realise that I'm a grillion years behind everyone else on the planet but I just dug out the video that my Mum gave me & watched it. It has to be said that it's one cool film & not at all what I expected to see. I must watch more films.
I'm feeling very odd. With one notable exception (Hi), I'm just not feeling anything. Work sucks big donkey balls. Yet I know I have to work so I have money. Yet I never have any money. It's all fucking gone as soon as I get it. I pay my rent, I pay my (voluntary) child support for The Boy, I get some shopping, I get some petrol & I pay back the various fivers that I've borrowed so I can smoke & eat on Wednesdays & Thursdays. I loathe this way of life. I know that everyone who knows me thinks I'm a loser & the sad thing is they are correct. Please be aware this isn't a cry for help or a plea for pity. It is merely a statement of fact.
I put at lot of it down to my formative years where I perfected the art of thieving to an art form.
I started nicking stuff when I was 5. I got caught taking Football cards out of the desks my Mum was cleaning after school. I had to stand in front of that class & apologize to them all. I was as ashamed as a 5-year old knows how to be. Though I remember no other punishment. I stole stuff until the age of 22. I simply stopped, decided that it was wrong after all. However I had obviously gotten used to being able to get what I wanted. If I couldn't steal it, I'd steal something else & sell it. I must have stole thousands of items & made scary amounts of money. I only had one rule, I didn't steal from those I cared about. Every now & again I would get caught. Once or twice the police were involved, yet I never was made to suffer for my crimes. My mum would pretend it never happened & my dad would shout at me for 10 minutes then go back to his world of "I'm reading the paper" or "I'm watching the news" & it would never be brought up again. That was it. So nowadays I don't steal but I still have the habit of making sure I get what I want. If I want a CD I will buy the CD & then worry about how I'm gonna pay the phone bill. In recent weeks I haven't been doing this, yet I'm still always skint.
I'm not sure that I should tell you my thief stories as I don't want to alienate anybody (Hell, it's not like I can afford to lose readers). Perverse as it is, many a moment of joy came from my ill gotten wares. The most infamous time stemmed from an act of vehicle breaking which I'd branched into at around 19 or 20. Luckily I hadn't learned to drive at the time. I know if I had I would have stolen the whole car rather than just the stereo & the change in the glove box. One time I broke into a van, i say broke into but actually i simply got into it as it was unlocked. I acquired a cheque book & a cheque guarentee card. The next 3 weeks were fucking fantastic. My mates (Reckless, Funny Dance & Married A Proper Bitch) & I lived like kings. We went shopping for an hour at a time in different towns & "bought" loads of CDs, Videos, Clothes, etc. One weekend Reckless, Myself & Why Did He Come? (Who many years later I discovered is Buddy With Boobs' brother) went to Barry Island in south Wales for the weekend. It was utterly splendid, at no point was money ever an issue. We went out & got proper mashed. Reckless & I still bemoan our luck to this day, of how the 2 very hot girls with lovely welsh accents & their own flat nearby had to leave us after an hour or so of getting on really well with them. All because there were 3 of us & 2 of them. Hence the name of our 3rd team member. That said the whole thing was a total blast & it led to Barry Island becoming this mythical place of legend where all manner of debauchery could occur. Reckless & I went there on at least 2 further occassions with various different members of our posse. Strangely enough, Barry Island is a shit tip. It's the sort of resort Morrissey was singing about in "Everyday is like Sunday". Which they played on the fun fair on the Sunday after the maddest Saturday night of all the Barry trips. That song shall forever take me there with a smile & a memory of the biggest hangover ever.
I know this blog has taken quite a few trips into my chequered past recently. I make no apology for this, the prime reason for this blog is to be a diary for me. Also I have nothing going on worthy of story in my life at the moment. Stories are everything to me. I was telling a friend recently that I'd rather die poor, with nothing to pass on & than with no stories to tell, no experiences to relay. One day The Boy will read all this & see that his dad was a person, not just a dad. I hope he'll think "Blimey, Dad did loads of stuff".
I honestly believe that If I could write down all my stories & memories that it would make a fine read.
So I've waffled on a bit tonight....but I ain't quitting yet!
This Saturday Reckless & Dream Girl are hosting a big halowe'en party at their place. It's fancy dress & I'm going as the Grim Reaper. The idea being that it's simple but effective. I have also been put in charge of the music. This means that over the next few days I shall have to forcefeed my I-pod with shite. Y'know party music, like S club, Britney & loads of other asanine soulless guff. I may slip "We both know" onto the playlist. If anyone says "What's this shit?" after the grim reaper has consumed much vodka & maybe drugs it could get nasty.
Scream 4 anybody?
I'm here in front of my screen at nearly 3 in the morning. I didn't go to work today (for reasons that I truly do not know - which is a bit of a worry) so I ended up sleeping til noon. Therefore I have only just begun to feel tired. I cannot go to bed now. So here I am with 3 hours to kill.
I've just watched "Fight club". Now I realise that I'm a grillion years behind everyone else on the planet but I just dug out the video that my Mum gave me & watched it. It has to be said that it's one cool film & not at all what I expected to see. I must watch more films.
I'm feeling very odd. With one notable exception (Hi), I'm just not feeling anything. Work sucks big donkey balls. Yet I know I have to work so I have money. Yet I never have any money. It's all fucking gone as soon as I get it. I pay my rent, I pay my (voluntary) child support for The Boy, I get some shopping, I get some petrol & I pay back the various fivers that I've borrowed so I can smoke & eat on Wednesdays & Thursdays. I loathe this way of life. I know that everyone who knows me thinks I'm a loser & the sad thing is they are correct. Please be aware this isn't a cry for help or a plea for pity. It is merely a statement of fact.
I put at lot of it down to my formative years where I perfected the art of thieving to an art form.
I started nicking stuff when I was 5. I got caught taking Football cards out of the desks my Mum was cleaning after school. I had to stand in front of that class & apologize to them all. I was as ashamed as a 5-year old knows how to be. Though I remember no other punishment. I stole stuff until the age of 22. I simply stopped, decided that it was wrong after all. However I had obviously gotten used to being able to get what I wanted. If I couldn't steal it, I'd steal something else & sell it. I must have stole thousands of items & made scary amounts of money. I only had one rule, I didn't steal from those I cared about. Every now & again I would get caught. Once or twice the police were involved, yet I never was made to suffer for my crimes. My mum would pretend it never happened & my dad would shout at me for 10 minutes then go back to his world of "I'm reading the paper" or "I'm watching the news" & it would never be brought up again. That was it. So nowadays I don't steal but I still have the habit of making sure I get what I want. If I want a CD I will buy the CD & then worry about how I'm gonna pay the phone bill. In recent weeks I haven't been doing this, yet I'm still always skint.
I'm not sure that I should tell you my thief stories as I don't want to alienate anybody (Hell, it's not like I can afford to lose readers). Perverse as it is, many a moment of joy came from my ill gotten wares. The most infamous time stemmed from an act of vehicle breaking which I'd branched into at around 19 or 20. Luckily I hadn't learned to drive at the time. I know if I had I would have stolen the whole car rather than just the stereo & the change in the glove box. One time I broke into a van, i say broke into but actually i simply got into it as it was unlocked. I acquired a cheque book & a cheque guarentee card. The next 3 weeks were fucking fantastic. My mates (Reckless, Funny Dance & Married A Proper Bitch) & I lived like kings. We went shopping for an hour at a time in different towns & "bought" loads of CDs, Videos, Clothes, etc. One weekend Reckless, Myself & Why Did He Come? (Who many years later I discovered is Buddy With Boobs' brother) went to Barry Island in south Wales for the weekend. It was utterly splendid, at no point was money ever an issue. We went out & got proper mashed. Reckless & I still bemoan our luck to this day, of how the 2 very hot girls with lovely welsh accents & their own flat nearby had to leave us after an hour or so of getting on really well with them. All because there were 3 of us & 2 of them. Hence the name of our 3rd team member. That said the whole thing was a total blast & it led to Barry Island becoming this mythical place of legend where all manner of debauchery could occur. Reckless & I went there on at least 2 further occassions with various different members of our posse. Strangely enough, Barry Island is a shit tip. It's the sort of resort Morrissey was singing about in "Everyday is like Sunday". Which they played on the fun fair on the Sunday after the maddest Saturday night of all the Barry trips. That song shall forever take me there with a smile & a memory of the biggest hangover ever.
I know this blog has taken quite a few trips into my chequered past recently. I make no apology for this, the prime reason for this blog is to be a diary for me. Also I have nothing going on worthy of story in my life at the moment. Stories are everything to me. I was telling a friend recently that I'd rather die poor, with nothing to pass on & than with no stories to tell, no experiences to relay. One day The Boy will read all this & see that his dad was a person, not just a dad. I hope he'll think "Blimey, Dad did loads of stuff".
I honestly believe that If I could write down all my stories & memories that it would make a fine read.
So I've waffled on a bit tonight....but I ain't quitting yet!
This Saturday Reckless & Dream Girl are hosting a big halowe'en party at their place. It's fancy dress & I'm going as the Grim Reaper. The idea being that it's simple but effective. I have also been put in charge of the music. This means that over the next few days I shall have to forcefeed my I-pod with shite. Y'know party music, like S club, Britney & loads of other asanine soulless guff. I may slip "We both know" onto the playlist. If anyone says "What's this shit?" after the grim reaper has consumed much vodka & maybe drugs it could get nasty.
Scream 4 anybody?
And that's what Flash thinks today @ 02:40
1 Comments:
At 3:17 am,
shorty said…
Have fun on Saturday. I think you could have come up with a better costume. How will you drink with a mask?? You sound like a hellraiser. You should go by the name Lucky, not Flash. : )
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