Friday, November 30, 2007

Returning - sort of

Hello,

You might remember me from such angry postings as... Misanthropy and Rage, blah etc, blah etc. cunt!

What has changed in my life since I last posted?

Well, much has changed. Firstly, I'm writing properly. I'm roughly 70,000 words into the first part of a crime novel trilogy and I'm enjoying it. I still need at least another 40,000 words to finish it but if I pick up the pace a bit I could probably finish the first draft before the date of my next birthday (in January). I would recommend the process to everybody, you learn a lot about yourself when you're writing, and you learn to utilise your time better.

I live in north London now, which I love, despite the fact that it often seems as though it is solely populated by comedy hat wearing wankers in drainpipe trousers with haircuts that look as if they've been styled by Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles with the aid of a rusty chainsaw. The place I live in is okay, but the lack of social space is getting to me. There's no living room and the kitchen is too small for anything other than quick cooking, so I spend most of my time in my bedroom, like some lonely psycho! I don't have a TV, so I do a lot of reading and writing, but even that can get wearing after a while. So, I'm going to compromise and buy myself either a TV or a radio in the January sales, I think I need a bit of background noise!

I'm considering getting a second job next year to fund travel plans to South America and to pay for an unbelievable number of stag weekends (at least four of them) at hideous expense, I met my girlfriend at about the same time as they met their future wives. My mates get married so I, just to be different, split up! I always manage that. I never quite plough the beaten path, and always chose to to do things the hard way. Maybe it's because I'm unique...

Unique being a synonym for Cunt!

But plenty still makes me angry. One of them being the fuckshuffling, Romero-zombie commuters who use various stations in the capital of Cunt London. You know the ones! Dawdling along in slow-motion, bumbling and weaving like drunken fucktards, or taking up the left hand of the escalator whilst talking to their equally spastastic friends. Fucking cock-knockers! The thing that really gets me is that those fucking morons get to the top of the escalator and then just dawdle and mill like lobotomised cattle, seemingly unable to decide which way they need to go next. As for me, I move fast fast fast, and woe betide the motherfucker who gets in the way of my path!

Celebrity culture still gets on my tits, as does reality TV. But I've devised a great new show: Celebrity Death Island. You take six of the most malevolent cervix-crunchers around. Put the morons on Anthrax Island and each week a lucky member of the public gets to drop a fuel-air bomb on them. Each week, six new contestants. Eventually, we would run out of fuckwits for Grazia to put inside their brain-numbing pages. Or maybe it's just me! Who knows?

I think that's it for now.

More catharsis for me, and boredom for you, to come shortly!