"Why should I?"
Seems to be a popular phrase these days out there in the big wide world.
Reading Newspapers and listening to the radio you'd be forgiven in thinking that it has become the new mantra for modern British society.
Nobody seems to want to take responsibility for anybody else's problems these days. Hell, it seems nobody even wants to acknowledge that anybody else even has any genuine problems.
Apparently everybody is to blame for their own misfortune so when people are asked to express some sympathy for others "Why should I..." has become their default setting response.
Ok so I'm being bleak here.
We had Live 8 where we all went along to a pop concert and tried to appease our collect guilt about the millions starving to death in Africa by listening to Madonna swear in time to the beat.
But on a National level it seems that it's just too difficult to really give a toss about anybody else these days.
Case in point is one Danny Johnson-Green a disabled father who had his disability benefits stripped from him after completing a charity bike ride to raise money for a leukaemia research charity after his twin sons were diagnosed with the disease.
Anywhoo some charitable soul didn't think a disabled should be able to ride a bike AND receive benefit entitlement and reported him on the DWP Bat Phone. Sadly the DWP agreed and now he not only has had his benefit ended but has to repay £2,500.
Makes you warm to the cockles of your heart doesn't it?
In the new Utopia in which we live I don't have any social obligation to really give a fuck about you.
Why should anybody else get any money when I don't? Why should anybody have an easier ride than me? If a disabled man wants to get extra money the least he can do is sit in the corner and be a good cripple like everybody else.
Yeah I know I'm being bleak again.
Why shouldn't I be?
Sunday, 2 March 2008
Tuesday, 19 February 2008
Pineapple Shaped Anal Probe Hilarity
Sex and drugs and rock and roll
Is all my brain and body need
Sex and drugs and rock and roll
Are very good indeed
- by Ian Dury & the Blockheads
A sentiment I couldn't agree more with.
But these days rock 'n' roll stars seem to be more clean living than ever. I sat there last night watching one of these satellite music channels wondering who'd taken away the sex and the drugs?
I mean knowing that your favourite rock star is a member of PETA is all very well and good but am I alone in hankering for the days when small fluffy animals were in danger from bat chewing rock fiends? These days they're all out saving whales. It doesn't seem right to me.
And drugs. Why do I get the odd feeling that increasingly most of the MTV generation of rock musicians are more likely to suffer an Evian overdose rather than be found in a gutter foaming at the mouth with a head full of crack. Praise be for Docherty and Winehouse. They do the drugs so I don't have to.
In the good old days you knew that Sid and Nancy had more drugs than any two people could need to keep them warm in a squat. Ok it didn't have a very happy ending but at least you knew people were living extraordinary lives all tinged with excess and lunacy.
Somehow knowing that most excessive thing the latest 'Hot new thing' on MTV does is have an extra portion of Tofu at dinner time doesn't make me want to put a safety pin through my nose and upset my parents.
What is the point of celebrities that are as boring as I am?
You know I sit there and watch these shows that are supposed to 'expose' the extraordinary lives of Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears and all I can think is how boring their lives are. Just on a far bigger budget.
Extreme Dieting? Casual Fucking? Nervous Breakdowns?
Sounds like a night out with half of my friends. There's nothing to aspire to there.
And all these 'rock stars' look so clean. Watch old footage of the Sex Pistols and you can almost smell the B.O. and the piss and stale lager.
Isn't it sad that I look at what's out there these days in the mainstream and think to myself "They look so clean. I really should take a shower and wash my hair..."
So all I can conclude is that I am a Rock and Roll star in my own life.
A celebrity in my own bedroom.
Shame I'm tone deaf and I can't play an instrument.
Doesn't mean I won't get a record deal though.
Wednesday, 13 February 2008
The taste of Corn Plasters in your Cupcakes
Kids.
Scary aren't they?
Now that every town has been over-run by teenage thugs drinking on street corners it isn't safe for adults to leave their houses or they'll be instantly murdered to death by some 11 year old in a 'hoodie'.
Or at least that's what certain sectors of our fine Media want you to believe kind reader...
Am I alone in wondering when exactly we started to hate kids so much? I mean when did we as adults become so impotent that we all have to clear off the streets at dusk for fear of bands of these 'killer kids'. When did this state of fear come to pass?
I went out after dark once. On a Saturday. And in my town it wasn't kids rolling around drunk and beating each other up. It was adults.
STOP THE PRESS
I know I was shocked myself.
See it seems that in your average small U.K . town the biggest thing you have to fear is other adults. Binge drinking. Binge fighting. Binge living.
Looking at NSPCC statistics it would appear that being a kid really isn't a particularly safe profession afterall.
See, according to the NSPCC, it looks as if on average each week a child is killed by a parent or carer. 25% of rapes reported are committed against people under 16 years of age. The people most likely to suffer a violent death are babies under 1 year.
So who is really it risk here?
See I thought as a timid 32 year old it was me who had the most to fear. I mean according to the Press I should be incontinent with terror about the 16 year old waiting for me in the shadows.
See I think society has always been afraid of it's young people. We've been expecting that evil looking youth to slit our throats since the Mods and Rockers took to Brighton Beach back in the 1960's.
But now I am starting to wonder. It almost seems like the Press might have some sort of, oh I don't know, agenda here?
"15 year old crack thug kills Christian mother of 4"
Makes a far sexier headline than
"Father beats 12 year old black and blue"
Which is more likely to happen though?
Answers on a Postcard please.
Scary aren't they?
Now that every town has been over-run by teenage thugs drinking on street corners it isn't safe for adults to leave their houses or they'll be instantly murdered to death by some 11 year old in a 'hoodie'.
Or at least that's what certain sectors of our fine Media want you to believe kind reader...
Am I alone in wondering when exactly we started to hate kids so much? I mean when did we as adults become so impotent that we all have to clear off the streets at dusk for fear of bands of these 'killer kids'. When did this state of fear come to pass?
I went out after dark once. On a Saturday. And in my town it wasn't kids rolling around drunk and beating each other up. It was adults.
STOP THE PRESS
I know I was shocked myself.
See it seems that in your average small U.K . town the biggest thing you have to fear is other adults. Binge drinking. Binge fighting. Binge living.
Looking at NSPCC statistics it would appear that being a kid really isn't a particularly safe profession afterall.
See, according to the NSPCC, it looks as if on average each week a child is killed by a parent or carer. 25% of rapes reported are committed against people under 16 years of age. The people most likely to suffer a violent death are babies under 1 year.
So who is really it risk here?
See I thought as a timid 32 year old it was me who had the most to fear. I mean according to the Press I should be incontinent with terror about the 16 year old waiting for me in the shadows.
See I think society has always been afraid of it's young people. We've been expecting that evil looking youth to slit our throats since the Mods and Rockers took to Brighton Beach back in the 1960's.
But now I am starting to wonder. It almost seems like the Press might have some sort of, oh I don't know, agenda here?
"15 year old crack thug kills Christian mother of 4"
Makes a far sexier headline than
"Father beats 12 year old black and blue"
Which is more likely to happen though?
Answers on a Postcard please.
Saturday, 2 February 2008
Foaming Blister Juice Infusion
I for one am beside myself about Britney Spears.
I couldn't sleep last night with the worry about Amy Winehouse.
Paris Hilton? God, I just prey she makes it through today unscathed!
Worrying about people you've never met is so much more fun than having to have actual thoughts or fears about the real people in your life don't you find? Real people are unsatisfying because you have to, like, have real emotions connected to them wheras a life mediated through Heat Magazine or Intrusion Weekly is alot safer. Like bowling with the guard rails up.
I mean with Winehouse I am torn between vicarious torment over her spiral into a drugs hell and my god given right to moral outrage about her setting a bad example for the nations youth. Won't somebody please think of the children!
Who could ever have forseen a musical artist turning to drugs and booze? It has left me shocked, outraged and aroused to the very core of my being.
Fortunately those kind people at The Sun have released (as a selfless act of theraputic outreach) a video of Winhouse injecting a crack pipe. Now the tabloid press are involved I can breath a sigh of relief knowing that they'll soon have her fixed up.
*phew*
That was a close one!
As for Ms Spears it must be so comforting to have your nervous breakdown in public. In fact maybe she should consider turning this into a reality TV series? I can see it now - like The Osbournes on suicide watch. Doesn't the thought of it make you a bit wet in your media gland?
If only Heath Ledger had a crew of Paparazzi 'minders' about. See that's what happens when we the great media consuming public aren't keeping an eye on you pesky celebs...
Actually now that I think of it aren't I a stakeholder in Spears's life? I mean I buy the papers, read the magazines and pay for the TV that features her. I'm like a shareholder in her continued mental torment. She better not harm herself or I'll sue!
I like the fact that Soap Opera has gone beyond scripted TV drama and is now being played out across the pages of a tabloid newspaper near you in actual life. We don't need Big Brother anymore - the world is full of housemates to judge and vote off one by one. If only I could evict people from real life using a handy premium rate phone number.
This years Big Brother should be good though. I understand that upon each eviction the evicted housemate will be led onto a scaffold and publicy hung by Davina McCall.
Well you have to give the public what they want.
They're payng the price afterall....
I couldn't sleep last night with the worry about Amy Winehouse.
Paris Hilton? God, I just prey she makes it through today unscathed!
Worrying about people you've never met is so much more fun than having to have actual thoughts or fears about the real people in your life don't you find? Real people are unsatisfying because you have to, like, have real emotions connected to them wheras a life mediated through Heat Magazine or Intrusion Weekly is alot safer. Like bowling with the guard rails up.
I mean with Winehouse I am torn between vicarious torment over her spiral into a drugs hell and my god given right to moral outrage about her setting a bad example for the nations youth. Won't somebody please think of the children!
Who could ever have forseen a musical artist turning to drugs and booze? It has left me shocked, outraged and aroused to the very core of my being.
Fortunately those kind people at The Sun have released (as a selfless act of theraputic outreach) a video of Winhouse injecting a crack pipe. Now the tabloid press are involved I can breath a sigh of relief knowing that they'll soon have her fixed up.
*phew*
That was a close one!
As for Ms Spears it must be so comforting to have your nervous breakdown in public. In fact maybe she should consider turning this into a reality TV series? I can see it now - like The Osbournes on suicide watch. Doesn't the thought of it make you a bit wet in your media gland?
If only Heath Ledger had a crew of Paparazzi 'minders' about. See that's what happens when we the great media consuming public aren't keeping an eye on you pesky celebs...
Actually now that I think of it aren't I a stakeholder in Spears's life? I mean I buy the papers, read the magazines and pay for the TV that features her. I'm like a shareholder in her continued mental torment. She better not harm herself or I'll sue!
I like the fact that Soap Opera has gone beyond scripted TV drama and is now being played out across the pages of a tabloid newspaper near you in actual life. We don't need Big Brother anymore - the world is full of housemates to judge and vote off one by one. If only I could evict people from real life using a handy premium rate phone number.
This years Big Brother should be good though. I understand that upon each eviction the evicted housemate will be led onto a scaffold and publicy hung by Davina McCall.
Well you have to give the public what they want.
They're payng the price afterall....
Monday, 28 January 2008
Ruminating the Retardation of Romance
Q: "What's the best way to a man's heart?"
A: "Through his ribcage with a carving knife"
It's funny how life can repeatedly teach you things you already know. Like the fact that the vast majority of the male sex are absolutely lacking anything to recommend them.
"Ooo who's broken your heart this week?" I hear you cry.
Well to put it bluntly, nobody. That's half the problem. So far my heart is being broken by proxy. Looking at my friends and other animals I can see precious little to recommend having one of those new fangled human relationships that all the kids are banging on about these days.
I mean from my Ivory Tower all I can see is people having forced insecurity overdoses brought on by feckless males.
So this week just gone I've been feeling the hate for my fellow man. In the space of a just 7 days at least 4 females I know have been fucked with (and not in the happy way that leaves carpet burns) by cockwit males. It hardly makes me feel I want to settle down. Although the fact that, hetero or homo, men are seemingly full of shit should probably come as some small comfort.
Perhaps Lesbianism is the answer?
Having said that they seem just as baffled by affairs of the heart as I am so maybe I'll just carry on with the whole man-love thing.
*sigh*
Sorry is my frustration showing?
Underneath all this angst and knuckle chewing the dirty little truth is that it's been ages since I last had any cock and I'm feeling the burn in all the wrong places.
Y'know people say to me "You'll find someone oneday to settle down and have a relationship with"
Then I look at half of the people I know who are in them and think to myself...
"God I hope not"
Cynical. Much.
A: "Through his ribcage with a carving knife"
It's funny how life can repeatedly teach you things you already know. Like the fact that the vast majority of the male sex are absolutely lacking anything to recommend them.
"Ooo who's broken your heart this week?" I hear you cry.
Well to put it bluntly, nobody. That's half the problem. So far my heart is being broken by proxy. Looking at my friends and other animals I can see precious little to recommend having one of those new fangled human relationships that all the kids are banging on about these days.
I mean from my Ivory Tower all I can see is people having forced insecurity overdoses brought on by feckless males.
So this week just gone I've been feeling the hate for my fellow man. In the space of a just 7 days at least 4 females I know have been fucked with (and not in the happy way that leaves carpet burns) by cockwit males. It hardly makes me feel I want to settle down. Although the fact that, hetero or homo, men are seemingly full of shit should probably come as some small comfort.
Perhaps Lesbianism is the answer?
Having said that they seem just as baffled by affairs of the heart as I am so maybe I'll just carry on with the whole man-love thing.
*sigh*
Sorry is my frustration showing?
Underneath all this angst and knuckle chewing the dirty little truth is that it's been ages since I last had any cock and I'm feeling the burn in all the wrong places.
Y'know people say to me "You'll find someone oneday to settle down and have a relationship with"
Then I look at half of the people I know who are in them and think to myself...
"God I hope not"
Cynical. Much.
Tuesday, 22 January 2008
Milky Smooth Marmoset Mousse
Spring is springing and a young gays loins turn to thoughts of filth...
I can feel that usual hunger beginning to rise in my manparts. A feeling which usually only precedes a sense of vague disappointment as I realise that the flesh is willing but the opportunity is weak.
See I hate being one of those perennial singletons who constantly harks on about how much more shiny their life would be if they had a somebody to share it with. Nearly all of the people I know who are in relationships seem to have nothing but trouble with them and I'm not keen to jump aboard that particular bandwagon. I can manage to have trouble without a partner to prompt it.
Look. Ok. The dirty truth is I just need some skin-on-skin action. I'm not gonna kid ya that I'm looking for the one when at the moment I feel like I might need two or three to satisfy this itch.
They (whoever they are) say that the gays are a promiscuous lot and in theory I think I agree. In theory simply because my desire to be promiscuous remains at this moment simply a theoretical concept yet to be taken out onto the streets for practice.
To my mind the main advantage of having a regular partner is that it means saving yourself the bother of going out every weekend looking for sex. Why have a dishwasher and wash your own plates? Yeah I think you know where I'm going with this....
I thought when I left my teens I'd leave behind the constant juvenile hunger for sex but it seems the hunger has followed me across the decades. My hands are down my pants as much now as they ever were. 31 going on 13?
I wonder if I could be like the Catholic priesthood and focus my thoughts on higher pursuits?
You know now that I think about it Catholic Priests are hot....
Mmmm Sacrilicious.
I can feel that usual hunger beginning to rise in my manparts. A feeling which usually only precedes a sense of vague disappointment as I realise that the flesh is willing but the opportunity is weak.
See I hate being one of those perennial singletons who constantly harks on about how much more shiny their life would be if they had a somebody to share it with. Nearly all of the people I know who are in relationships seem to have nothing but trouble with them and I'm not keen to jump aboard that particular bandwagon. I can manage to have trouble without a partner to prompt it.
Look. Ok. The dirty truth is I just need some skin-on-skin action. I'm not gonna kid ya that I'm looking for the one when at the moment I feel like I might need two or three to satisfy this itch.
They (whoever they are) say that the gays are a promiscuous lot and in theory I think I agree. In theory simply because my desire to be promiscuous remains at this moment simply a theoretical concept yet to be taken out onto the streets for practice.
To my mind the main advantage of having a regular partner is that it means saving yourself the bother of going out every weekend looking for sex. Why have a dishwasher and wash your own plates? Yeah I think you know where I'm going with this....
I thought when I left my teens I'd leave behind the constant juvenile hunger for sex but it seems the hunger has followed me across the decades. My hands are down my pants as much now as they ever were. 31 going on 13?
I wonder if I could be like the Catholic priesthood and focus my thoughts on higher pursuits?
You know now that I think about it Catholic Priests are hot....
Mmmm Sacrilicious.
Saturday, 12 January 2008
Doomladen Dogma Dosage
Are you who you say you are?
Can you prove it? Do you have ID? I must see three forms of photo ID before I will believe you are actually you...
What kind of world is it we are living in where you are automatically presumed to be an imposter in your own life?
We went to the bank today to sort out a boring joint account issue and my housemate (who's the named party on the account) was told upon producing his card drivers licence that it was not valid as ID unless he had the paper version with it.
I don't have the energy to explain to you how much shit like this makes me want to round up and angry mob and take to the streets...
It seems that none of us are to be trusted and eventually will all have to carry photographic ID to confirm that the three forms of ID we produce to prove we are who we say we are is in fact valid.
All these institutions introdcuing layer upon layer of 'security' between us and our money and are we safer? No. For gods sake the managing director of Barclays had his credit card defrauded this week, what hope do you or I have. None!
Am I me? Has my identity been stolen already to be used by myself to defraud me out of my own money?
Are any of us who we are?
Are you?
No. Thought not.
It's Invasion of the Bodysnatchers all over again. I am my own pod person replica.
Can you prove it? Do you have ID? I must see three forms of photo ID before I will believe you are actually you...
What kind of world is it we are living in where you are automatically presumed to be an imposter in your own life?
We went to the bank today to sort out a boring joint account issue and my housemate (who's the named party on the account) was told upon producing his card drivers licence that it was not valid as ID unless he had the paper version with it.
I don't have the energy to explain to you how much shit like this makes me want to round up and angry mob and take to the streets...
It seems that none of us are to be trusted and eventually will all have to carry photographic ID to confirm that the three forms of ID we produce to prove we are who we say we are is in fact valid.
All these institutions introdcuing layer upon layer of 'security' between us and our money and are we safer? No. For gods sake the managing director of Barclays had his credit card defrauded this week, what hope do you or I have. None!
Am I me? Has my identity been stolen already to be used by myself to defraud me out of my own money?
Are any of us who we are?
Are you?
No. Thought not.
It's Invasion of the Bodysnatchers all over again. I am my own pod person replica.
Sunday, 6 January 2008
The Steady Stream of Self-indulgant Seepage
Tonight on Dawson's Creek...
I am in self indulgent mood this weekend. Barely days into this new year and I can feel my sense of 'bleurgh-ness' creeping back into the dusty corners of my mind.
Perhaps I should join the Gym or buy a minor celebrities exercise DVD? I can just see me going for the burn in the comfort of my own living room. Yes indeed.
I haven't made any New Years resolutions. Well not really. I think I have come up with a "To do..." list for 2008. See what you think:
I am in self indulgent mood this weekend. Barely days into this new year and I can feel my sense of 'bleurgh-ness' creeping back into the dusty corners of my mind.
Perhaps I should join the Gym or buy a minor celebrities exercise DVD? I can just see me going for the burn in the comfort of my own living room. Yes indeed.
I haven't made any New Years resolutions. Well not really. I think I have come up with a "To do..." list for 2008. See what you think:
- Have more sex - which as a 30 something male should come as no surprise to you
- Be nicer to other Gays - it's not really their fault they annoy me.
- Try to spend less money on things that only make me happy for 15 minutes
Hardly a particularly enlightened list is it?
But I'm not really a fan of all this desperate soul searching and self-improvement. I think it is highly unlikely that many people can actually improve themselves that much.
As somebody wiser than me once said "You can't polish a turd...".
Wise words indeed.
Everybody is on a diet that they'll only manage to maintain for about month - for goodness sake January is depressing enough without denying yourself the twin pleasures of Alcomohol and Food.
And I'm quite happy to give into my cravings for both. Throw in sex and cigarettes (the latter to which I've never fully committed) and I am a happy little piglet.
Talking of sex. Why is it that when you aren't having any it seems the rest of the world suddenly discovers what their peopleparts are for? I'd have a longer whinge about the ache in my loins if I didn't think it would put you off your lunch.
Needless to say as a committed homosexualist I am feeling the societal pressure to live up to the stereotype of my kind. If I'm not more diligent I'm sure somebody is going to come and take me Gay Licence away. I mean it's alright for you straight types but in my world there are stringent quotas and I'm under performing in every category.
Multi-way felch marathon anybody?
No. Didn't think so.
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