Untitled

You know that phase, where you're sitting there and you're thinking life is pretty great? That everything is going well?

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?

Did you know...

That if you don't like Lady Gaga, you're 95% more likely to punch a baby in the face?

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?

Excellent.

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!

How exciting!

By exciting I mean horrible.

You fucking bastards. Agreeing with me like that.

You know how...

You think that everything's actually going to be OK? When suddenly a whole world of shit happens and it drags you right back to that place again? When you're not quite sure that this will ever go away because there's always that constant reminder?

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.

Dear Diary...

I might just start titling every blog I write in that manner, to be honest. I like to think of me writing this in my bed, surrounded by unicorns and such whenever I write that title. I suppose that's just me, though.

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..."

That has been a recent status. I know it's not really that recent, but I haven't blogged prior to this. so deal with it. It's mildly frustrating, isn't it? I mean, everybody that posted has had NOTHING but world cup fucking status updates for weeks. Ignoring the massive amounts of xenophobia that has been going on throughout anyway (which I haven't been), that statement is just fucking ludicrous. Firstly, they know what they're getting into. Fuck it, you want to go fight a war? There's a chance you might die. Suck it up and shut the fuck up. While I don't wish death upon anyone, if somebody has to die, I'd prefer it to be the people who want to kill other people.

What annoyed me more is the end. "Copy & past this..." Why can't people come up with their own damn sentiments anymore? I mean, honestly? What is the fucking point of bothering if you're just copying an identical piece of text that meant fuck all in the first place. You're diminishing the meaning of nothing. How is that even possible?

Jesus fucking christ you people annoy me. Although, this is from the same person who told me Avatar was better than The Hurt Locker just because she hadn't seen The Hurt Locker. I like Avatar, I really do. But it's just a very pretty version of Dancing With Wolves.

On to more pressing issues, I can't help but realise that Katy Perry ignored my advice and is still awaiting to release a new album. Shame on her. Just, seriously, fuck that noise.

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.

Oops... Shit.

Dear girl in front of me

Leggings are not trousers.

Put some fucking clothes on, I can see your fucking breakfast from here.

Jesus fucking christ.

So

I cut all my hair off. Mostly for shits and giggles to be honest because I was bored that day and where most people would merely go and do something sensible, I go and do something ridiculous because I like to have stories to tell. My god, do I have stories. Do I have stories? Should that even be a question?

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.

So, guess what?

That's right. Something has pissed me off. Imagine my surprise, right?

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'm digressing.

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.

She did.

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.

An open letter to Katy Perry

Hi there Katy. Do you remember me?

No, probably not. I'm that little voice that keeps nagging at you, telling you to stop doing what it is that you're doing. No, not your conscience. That's given up quite some time ago, I'm sure. I'm that dissenter who keeps pointing out just how abhorrent a person you are.

Sorry, I didn't mean to confuse you with so many big words. I can wait here while you look them up, if you'd like? I'm not telling you, as that would just defeat the object - You'll never advance as an individual if people continue to hand you the answers to everything.

I couldn't help but notice that, despite my constant complaints, you've continued existing. That saddens me. What depresses me more, though, is that you've gone and released another album.

Did I not make it clear enough last time? Despite how hideous I found everything that you released into the charts, I still had to listen to the album before I gave a real judgement.

I regretted that decision instantly. It upset me. There are so many wasted opportunities for many great pop songs on that album - believe me, it pains me to admit that anything to do with you could be good - but they were ruined by your presence. Your hideous voice, your painful intonation and your atrocities of the english language that you call lyrics.

So, imagine my surprise when I found myself enjoying your new single.

No, I'm joking. I'm happy to say that you're even worse than you were before, somehow. You've taken all the positives from your previous album and just stricken them from the record. You're an idiot. You've actually ruined my day. I didn't think it was possible for you to do that. Along you trot, though, with a mention on the radio and the autotuned, pseudo-dance song that you call a single and I call a crime against music.

Please, I'm begging you. Reconsider the release of your album. I'm certain that it's probably banned under the Geneva Convention as a cruel and unusual punishment anyway. At least save some face and make sure that it doesn't see the light of day. It's for the best. For you and for music.

Yours,
Jacques.

P.S. - I'm not sure if I made this clear enough, but fuck you.

Tonight...

I met a man more pretentious than me. It was amazing. I finally got to have a taste of what it's like to be like anybody that has ever spoken to.

He tried to tell me Warning was the worst Green Day album. Needless to say, I tried to tell him that being on fire is not going to be beneficial to his health. He didn't listen to me.

At least he kept me warn for the evening whilst smoking.

Sof keeps complaining my blogs are too short. So I'm ending it here to spite her, despite having a great deal more to say.

Ra-ra-Rasputin!

Seriously, why aren't you listening to Boney M right now?

What are you? Racist?

I bet you voted BNP yesterday, didn't you? Cunt.

To whom it may concern.

Fuck you.

This is a blog for Sof

Hello Sof! Have a blog! It's no masterpiece, but you get what you pay for, really.

A Friend's Status

is complaining that she can barely afford to eat but that her mate can afford to go down the pub all the time.

Her very next post, of course, is from Xbox regarding her gamerscore.

If you can afford to play on your 360, you can fuck off complaining, you prick.

People can barely afford to live at all, let alone in a fucking house and you complain from the comfort of your living room while playing your fucking games console? You're a twat, you are.

I listened to Shostakovich when he was underground.

Only listening to bands that nobody else has heard of doesn't make you cool. It just means you like really shitty bands, that's all.

Stop acting like you're so much better than everyone else because your new favourite band have a fan base of exactly six people - four of whom happen to be the mothers of the members whilst the other two are you and your fuckwit friend who doesn't actually have a taste in music, but listens to anything you say because it'll make him popular.

Yes, it's true that my favourite band aren't exactly huge and do remain quite underground to this day. It's also true that my second favourite artist happens to be one of the biggest sellers of all time, so your arguement can fuck right off, can't it?

The people who are huge fans until an artist actually starts being successful can fuck right off as well. Here's the logic - Bands are good. Bands get record deals because they are good, bands become more famous and bands can continue writing music.

Now here's the scenefuck logic - Band is good. Bands gets record deal. Band has sold out. Band are now dead to them.

Being a musician is still a job, ultimately. I know everyone has varying opinions on these things, but at the end of the day, people still need to make money. Making a CD isn't a cheap process and the artists have to pay for it, so yes, they will need to make money, at the very least to fund the next album. Would you prefer it if they never released a new album, because they didn't get signed and decided to call it a day?

Well, yes, of course you would, but that's because you're a fucking dick who just wants to be cool by listing off bands noone actually gives a shit about.

Don't tell me the reason I haven't heard of a band is because they're not big yet. If they were any good, you would have told me sooner, wouldn't you? Fucking prick.

My mates definition of what makes "real" music is if the artist struggled or not. Which is the most bullshit thing ever. You think Mozart really struggled? Or any of the greatest composers of all time? I mean, it's all relative but they had it easy. Does that mean The Planets Suite isn't "real" music?

Of course it doesn't. It means you're a cunt.

I've been working overnights. I'm tired and angry. I'm going to fucking bed.

Frustrations

There's one thing that really annoys me about myself, more than anything else.

It's the fact that my actual talent far outweighs my ability.

It sounds strange, but it makes perfect sense. What I can come up with in terms of music is amazing. The main issue is that I can't play it. I can't even come close to making a noise that vaguely resembles the concept that is going around in my head. It gets quite tedious.

It's like being a really good fuck if only I could get over this fucking erectile dysfunction.

I realise that, having just become single - Yes, Beyonce, my hands are up - I probably shouldn't be admitting such things on such a public domain as the internet. Of course, what I should do and what I actually end up doing are generally two very different things that might have once briefly met at a party before diverging paths greatly.

I have no idea where the fuck that analogy - or this entire post, for that matter - is going, but I'm going to run with it.

Anyway, the whole point is that basically, the songs I write and the songs I write are two completely different things. That may seem like a contradiction in terms, but then I'd suggest you merely pay more attention to what has been written previously and you might actually figure stuff out by yourself.

Let's recap, shall we?

-I write songs

-I can't play said songs

-I write different songs that are simplified versions

-I'm surprised they even let you near electronic equipment

See? Quite simple, really.

Anyway, I need to get dressed and go to work, so you finish this blog post yourself.

Actually, don't. You don't have the wit required for such a thing. Just, leave it. I'll get back to it. Or I'll leave it here like an abandoned puppy.

How can it be an abandoned puppy before I leave it somewhere?

I'll leave on that note.

This is not a clever title

So, thanks to Sof (I'm almost certain that she's the only person I actually reference within this blog, actually. At least on a regular basis) for bringing this to my attention.

You should probably all go and read THIS before I continue, or else this probably won't make too much sense. Although you'll probably grasp the gist of it. Make a mockery of my choice of colour should you desire, but it shows up on this background much better. Also, it's a fucking badass colour.

Anyway, I'm digressing.

This website, in case you couldn't tell because you can't read - in which case, you can get fucked but you don't know I said that, gutted - shows how each party voted in response to various issues in the LGBT community.

I love that acronym. It sounds like the best sandwich ever.

My first question, of course, is this: Why the fuck are they not all at 100%? If they are not gay, then why does it matter to them what gay people do? If they are gay, whether openly out or not (which is another issue entirely which can fuck off), why wouldn't they want to have equal rights?

I really have no idea why anyone would possibly vote against any of them, except for sheer fucking ignorance and bigotry.

Out of curiosity, how do you think they'd vote for black people having a different age of consent? Or adoption policies? I imagine they'd vote quite positively towards equality there. So what's the fucking difference? Yes, there's the issue of the years of black oppression and suchlike, but at the end of the day this all boils down to people being fucking pricks about issues that don't really concern them.

It's the conservatives I'm most concerned about, though. I mean, just look at that. Fucking hell. I know it's in your name, that you're conservative, but for fuck sake, just get off your high fucking horse and let people choose as they damn well please. The only place they even get a majority is on the civil partnership issue. Let's face it, even then it's a shockingly small amount, when you think about it. The rest of it just flat out offends me. So, yes, I'm not gay, we've covered this before, but I am quite involved with the LGBT community, simply because I've stumbled across these people in my life and they happen to be fucking legendary. The fact they chose an alternative sexuality is neither here nor there as far as I'm concerned. It doesn't even enter into the equation.

Until times like these, of course, at which point I feel the need to shout at people and tell them that they (alliteration is fucking badass) really should just let people get on with what they do.

It upsets me, damnit, that I can't legally have sex with a 16 year old boy should I desire. It upsets me dearly.

That's not even a sick joke. If I wanted to sleep with a 16 year old girl, that'd be fine, if not considered slightly pervy and/or legendary, depending on the group of people. But to sleep with a 16 year old boy is a fucking CRIME. Where is the justice in that, may I ask?

Don't bother answering. There fucking is none. It's all bullshit. Vote positively towards gay rights, people. Vote for the people that will let it happen, even if they won't actively MAKE it happen. That's a fight we still need to win ourselves, unfortunately.

To my dearest Sof...

Here is the blog I promised you earlier.

But this is all you're getting because it's 4 fucking am. Do you know where your kids are?

Because I do...

Wait... That came out a little more sinister than I expected.

Oh well. Good morning starshine!

"Eurasian?"

"I think for the money, he was anyone's Asian"

That, ladies and gentlemen, was essentially the best thing I've ever heard.

The Little Dog Laughed. There are no words to describe that play. It was simply stunning. I mean, it also frustrated me a great deal, but that's a point I'll get to in my own fucking time.
So, essentially. Man is gay. Man is also famous. Famous gay people are clearly frowned upon. But famous gay man wants to play a gay man in a film about, oddly enough, gay men. This sentence is an excuse to type the word gay excessively.

He falls in love with a man. Who is not gay but is gay, if you see where I'm coming from. Cue twists and turns and a bittersweet ending that is tragically realistic and quite saddening, really. It even left me with the feeling that what we saw was the very story that they were trying to create, which was a great bit of satirical genius.
I shan't bore you with the details. I'd suggest you go see it but as it's closing tomorrow, I find it hard to believe that you will. Your loss, quite frankly.

Gemma was amazing. Such a great performance and looked simply stunning. But I leave such details to Sof, as she is the resident obsessive around here. Rupert Friend was fantastic as well, I was thoroughly convinced. So much so that I may have my doubts... Not that it's really my place to question, really. But this is me, so I'm going to do so anyway.

Harry Lloyd was great. Apart from anytime there needed to be a dramatic pause. Because they were far too dragged out. Just wait until he goes to take his coat. And wait. And wait. And WaOH FOR FUCK SAKE JUST GET ON WITH IT DAMNIT!

Tamsin Greig is pretty much my new favourite person. She was just genius. So well cast, she had the role down perfectly. She also has some of the greatest comedic timing I've ever seen and managed to even chuck in a little crowd interaction whilst remaining perfectly in character. Simply stunning.

So, the angry bit.

Why the fuck is it not OK to be gay? I mean, we apparently live in quite the tolerant society, so I've been told. The second someone is gay, however and the knives come out. Fuck that. As a straight man (I'd use inverted commas but that's clearly too subtle for some of you) I really don't understand the problem. I mean, I've never had to deal with the persecutive side of things but it's just stupid. Some people are gay. Deal with it. Some guys like other guys. There is no need to be afraid of it. It is not contagious, it is not a bad thing and most importantly, get fucked, you intolerant little shitbags.

Yes, women come out and are met by huge amounts of praise from the misogynistic masses because they think it's OK for girls to be gay, as long as they get to watch. Which, again, can go fuck itself with a rusty bargepole. Do they even make bargepoles out of metal? Does it matter? No.

I just get really annoyed by all this. I hear homophobic comments all the time. I get a fair few myself. I'm wearing pink shoes today. This leads to no end of entertainment from the guys in the office with all of seven brain cells between them. Apparently, pink is an exclusively female colour and if you wear it, you've either got tits or you like penises. I must have missed a meeting, it seems.

Fuck it. I'm going back to work to eat lunch and pontificate on such matters. And I will probably end up shouting at someone.

Oh well. Never mind. It's no longer my problem to care.

A little behind the curve.

But there's an energy drink called Pussy.

Which is accurate, as if you drink it, you look like a cunt.

That's all the witty banter for this evening, I'm afraid. Tomorrow there will be discussions about plays and Tamsin and other such matters of great importance.

The Arrogance of the Rock Scene

Sometimes, just when I think that the vast majority of the rock scene couldn't get any worse, I get proven deeply and categorically wrong. I'm not a huge fan of any type of scene, really, but there's always some fucker in the rock scene that makes matters worse for them. It's the sheer arrogance of it that really frustrates me, to be quite honest. I only remain part of it because I enjoy ridiculing people and, well, there's occasionally a good bit of music going on too.

So, upon reading Facebook and noting a friends status, I get incredibly irked over nothing. Which, in all fairness, is my go-to mind state as far as the internet is concerned.

A friend of a friend commented on a status, with something along the lines of "The thing I love about listening to metal, is it makes me appreciate other genres like blues and stuff" - I can't remember it verbatim, as this was a while ago and it has just resurfaced, but you get the general idea.

This set me off into an annoyance like no other... Well, no other that day, at least.

It's so stupidly arrogant, isn't it? It's not just me that thinks that, surely? I mean, for a start, I happen to know that I started off my musical loving life as a huge fan of hip hop. I now currently have one of the most diverse tastes in music going. Sof is the same, except she got her grounding in classical music and show tunes, as far as I recall - We discuss these things after several beverages so sometimes the minor details get left out, but that's basically it.

The reason you like other types of music is because you're a fan of music. That's all it is. Being into metal doesn't make you suddenly understand the intricacies of everything else, it's the fact you ALREADY like the fucking stuff, you just hadn't heard it.

Fuck sake, metal is just the blues for whiny shitty middle class white people who have no idea what the fuck struggle actually is. "Boohoo, my life is so hard!" is a main feature of half the stuff out there and it's quite simply bullshit.

You feel like an outcast because you dress different? Hey, try being black, female or, god forbid, a black female in the previous fucking century. That's struggle. That is real problems there. That's why blues is so much better. Because they were fucking miserable because they had no fucking choice. You choose to outcast yourself. You can listen to the music you want, but you're so obsessed with sticking to this godamn dress code and image that nobody has forced upon you that you will complain that you're being discriminated against, because you look like a twat.

Persecution? Tell that to the millions of Jewish people who were killed. Discrimination? You try telling that to the families of slaves. Or the women who suffered for the rights to be treated as a fucking equal, nothing more. Don't you fucking dare tell me you have it hard. You have first world problems and you should consider yourself very fucking lucky.

Which brings me to my next point, in a roundabout fashion.

There were some twats in the queue for some club night. Basically a group of pricks, defined by the scene I previously described. My friend was there in a batman hoodie - You know, the badass one, where the hood is the cowl and it has a cape that you can clip on because you're fucking awesome.

So they proceeded to spend the next half hour talking about it. About how he should've worn a metal hoodie, as this was a metal night. Get fucked, you little shit. You're not so different anyway. Wearing a Famous tshirt? That's still a label. You're not cool. You're not individual. You're far from fucking unique. You're a jumped up little shit who needs to grow the fuck up.

If this carries on and I make it past 30 without having a fucking nervous breakdown, I'll consider that an achievement