Monday, 18 October 2010
That feeling you get when it's all torn out from underneath you?
I mean, I've always tried to be the optimistic type. I've always been the one looking on the bright side, cracking jokes and generally keeping things positive *Cue Legally Blonde remaining stuck in my head for the next 6 hours as I attempt to sleep*
But I'm struggling to do so right now.
Currently, my grandfather is lying in a bed in the ICU. Being unable to breathe for himself. Don't get me wrong, there are people in there in much worse conditions. But there's one thing that's more important about my grandad. He's fucking MY grandad.
More than that, he is pretty much the entire reason I am the way that I am. He's always encouraged me to do what I want, be who I want and everything like that. Whenever I'd get shit at school for being an odd little fucker, which I very much was, he'd always be there to tell me to ignore all that. No matter what happened, he loved me and the way I was and there wasn't anything that was going to change that. I know everyone must get that from their parents and grandparents, but I don't care about those. I care about my grandad.
It's very rare you'll ever see me write like this. Obviously, this isn't a common occurence - not yet, at least - so it's not often I'll ever be in this mindstate. But right now, everything seems futile. Not since Lauragate has everything ever felt so pointless.
Again, I sit there and joke around and have a laugh and that's all well and good. But that doesn't solve the fact that my guiding inspiration in my life is lying two feet away completely unconscious. I talk to him, but the words just get choked out behind the tears. It sounds pathetic really. He'll be fine. He's part of my family, it takes a lot to kill us. Nonetheless, I can't help but feel like we're playing the waiting game right now. Just sitting there, counting down the minutes until they announce the inevitable.
I honestly don't think he's ever going to come out of that ICU. Not alive.
I hate myself for thinking it. But I can't help it. He's been through so much shit, in and out of hospitals for so many years now that I can't believe he's still fighting. But he always has. He always laughs, always a smile on his face. Which is why I'm finding it so hard to do that right now. He's the one who taught me that life isn't so bad and that there's always a silver lining.
What's the silver lining to this, grandad? Because I just don't see one. Beyond you not being in any pain any more, which is obviously something I wish for more than anything, but not like this.
I love you grandad. With all my heart and everything that I am. Please pull out of this.
I'll be lost without you.
I'm not even spellchecking or proofreading this. Fuck it. What's the point anymore?
Wednesday, 21 July 2010
This is due to the fact you're clearly a hateful individual who believes everyone should suffer your opinions and/or baby face punching.
Wow. I'm not even entirely sure where that opening segment came from, if I'm being perfectly honest. The sentiment still remains, even if being slightly exaggerated - You're actually only 92% more likely. I'm sorry for distorting the facts in that manner. Friendsies?
In all seriousness, I have no idea what the hell that shit I just wrote is. It made me giggle though, so I shall keep it and damn the consequences!
Really, though, you should love Lady Gaga. Even though she does that annoying thing of capitalising the second ga as if it was a separate word when it's CLEARLY not. Although that might not be her, it might just be everyone else. If that is the case, Gaga, I apologise. Everyone else, fucking stop that shit. You're impressing no one. Especially not me. You prick.
Sorry, I just went for a ska break. That's something people do, right? Just stop what they're doing and go listen to or play some ska? Just me? Oh well, fuck it.
I forgot what I was talking about, so I'm just going to call you a baby puncher and move on.
Also, in further news, next friday I get paid and I will be spending far too much money on going to see Lady Gaga. Yes, Yes I am.
In further further news, you should go listen to Eminem & Rihanna. I always want to spell her name Rhianna. It just makes more sense to the pronunciation. It DOES! Stop fucking judging me! Bastards.
Right, I've grown tired of typing, I'm going for another ska break and then to visit my grandfather who now has a leg missing!
By exciting I mean horrible.
You fucking bastards. Agreeing with me like that.
Saturday, 10 July 2010
That's how I feel currently. It's not really fun, to be perfectly honest. Hence the lack of witicisms within this post.
I hate writing depressing shit like this but quite frankly this is my only outlet because of the way I am. So fuck it.
Tuesday, 6 July 2010
Anyway, enough of that, I want to shout at things. A lot of things. Are you listening? No, you're not. Because this is a blog. These are written words. You can't hear them. Unless you're using text to speech. In which case you're just fucking lazy. Or blind. To be honest, I imagine it's the former. I can't see (geddit?!) a blind person ever finding this blog.
I am the motherfucking master of digression.
So, facebook. What have you done to me this time?
"...Two planes landed in England today. One brought back a group of overpaid, underachieving footballers. The other brought back seven coffins, each with the Union Jack draped over them. Footballers play for our country, soldiers FIGHT for our country. Footballers give ninety minutes, soldiers give their lives. I know who I respect more. R.I.P. Our Boys. Copy & Paste this to your status, show your support..."
I saw Green Day twice the other week. I'm pretty sure that makes me better than you. I then went to see Tegan & Sara. I am clearly more epic than you. There is a photo of me meeting Amanda Palmer. But I won't post that here as it'll just wind up Sof a hideous amount.
Wednesday, 16 June 2010
Monday, 24 May 2010
Regardless, this is not the point.
I now have short hair. I am notorious for not giving a shit about the way I look. Alas, since I have this short hair, I've gained that "bed head" look that seems oh-so-popular amongst the people that do care - I'm not suggesting that caring about your appearance is wrong. I'm telling you. Grow up, you superficial fucks.
The dilemma I'm now faced with is that I now look like one of these people. The people who make an effort to make it look like they've made no effort.
So do I go one step further? Do I make an effort to make it look like I haven't made an effort to look like I haven't made an effort? Does that sentence even make any sense?
On that note, I'm going for a skate. Don't expect to see me back here alive.
Tuesday, 11 May 2010
So, I was out in Camden on saturday. That's not the whole story, of course, but it's a damn good start and it certainly wouldn't aid my mood.
I went to Proud. It was my friends birthday. I felt obliged, as she is a legend who I absolutely fucking adore. Considering there are less people that I can say that about than I have fingers, sans thumbs, that certainly counts for something.
It's a standard pretentious fuckwits haven. It's a gallery by day and a money swallowing vacuum by night. Sorry, club. That's not even what pissed me off. The fact it was so hideously expensive to drink kept me more sober and a little more level headed.
I went outside for a cigarette with a friend who shall hereby be known as Col. As that was his name. Stood by the door was one of the wonderful ladies who had been emptying my wallet so thoroughly all night. Being behind a bar , I had not had the opportunity to observe quite what she was wearing.
Of course, when she was out from behind the bar, I still struggled to see what she was wearing. Because it was practically non-existent. To call it underwear would be doing a dishonour to the amount of dignity that underwear can afford.
So, curious, we felt the need to ask if she had to wear that.
What the fuck, people? I mean, don't get me wrong, I appreciate the female form. Quite a great deal, in fact. I can't deny that for a moment and I'm fairly certain that a fairly significant proportion of people would be lying if they said that they didn't. However, I don't really feel that being forced to wear something that would make a pole dancer embarassed is going to help anyone. If people WANT to wear such things, fine. Have at it, I'm not going to stop you, it's your body, do what the fuck you like quite frankly. I may think you're an idiot for feeling the need to do such things, but that's purely my opinion so whatever, right?
Do they honestly think this is a wise idea? Ignore the fact it's fucking freezing outside, which they clearly fucking can't, as they're wearing fuck all. Can you possibly think of any situation where putting a nigh-on naked girl surrounded by drunken fucking idiots is ever going to be an intelligent idea? A lot of people don't need any more help to objectify women as it is, before they're intoxicated and being served by an individual who is essentially being treated as a piece of meat.
Oh, also, you'll be shocked to learn, I didn't manage to observe anyone of a slightly larger size wearing such outfits. I fucking wonder why.
Seriously, people make me fucking sick. I'm never going fucking back there again. Fuck the lot of you, with your overpriced entry, drinks and cost to human fucking dignity.
Please, someone help restore my faith in fucking humanity, before I feel the fucking need to leave this place.
Which I will have to fucking do anyway if the damn Lib Dem-Tory coalition happens. Fuck that.