The worst drinkers are the part timers!

2013. What a year. Lessons learned; I'm an awful drunk, I achieved nothing this year, I'm very likely an awful person.

The main thing I've done this year is binge drink on weekends. Wasting what little money I earn on wobbly truth elixir, much to my own dismay the next day in the toilet. I'm your classic binge drinker, I don't drink in the house that often, I never drink alone and I only drink till something gives; my wallet, my liver or time (they kick you out eventually.)

"Everyone loves a drink!" - Every drinker in existence.

I'm not sure I do anymore, there's a good chance I do it out of habit, I'm struggling to see the enjoyment I garner when it usually ends up with a ruined day to follow and not because my hangovers have become excruciating in my late 20's. More so, I remember the petty squabbles with other weekenders or the false promises I told some girl so she'd assault my mouth on a dancefloor.

Sure, peer pressure plays a part but can any normal(ish) adult use that as an excuse? It almost doesn't bear thinking about how it'd affect my friendships if I was to hang up my er, drinking hand?! It's not even that I truly hate the person I become when paralytic but more, I worry that I, in fact become the true me. A version not constrained by social conformity or the worry of criticism. I've always been sarcastic to the point of offensive and have offended my fair share of people when sober but when the moral compass is spinning along with the rest of the room, the gloves are off and Rocky's swinging.

Of course these are classic examples of the side effects of too much fizzy poison. Surely moderation is key? In hindsight, I don't think I've ever drank for the taste, even alco-pops and fruity cider leave a lot to be desired. I always start off meaning well "We'll just have a couple, then go home at a decent hour..." 2 hours later I'm drinking doubles and dancing along to songs I don't like and certainly don't know the words to.
My lack of will power worries me but mostly it makes me wonder why I'm so eager to escape my sober state. What even is there to be achieved? I don't even really go out to meet girls, that's just a by-product of the experience. I don't believe you'll ever make a true connection with a girl dancing to Gangnam Style.

Maybe I should get a hobby that consumes my evenings on a weekend or maybe I'll just see you on the dancefloor...

The Egg Came First, Alright?!

Well, well, well… Well, where to begin? What came first; the chicken or the egg?!

The egg did, obviously. Done.

Why even ask? What does it (or anything) matter? Well, well, er, it doesn’t but I’m bored…

Before we proceed, I must point out this is MY opinion on MY blog, so it’s unequivocally correct. You're in the wrong simpy being here.

Now to the task at hand, the egg came first of course, silly. As evolution dictates the bird that laid said egg would not have been what we’d consider the ‘modern’ chicken – monocle, top hat, penchant for the ladies (hens) of the night, I digress.

Each stage of evolution is mutation from the last, an anomaly of the previous blue print and the egg that contained Chickenus Numero Uno (the scientific name for the first ever chicken*) was itself a freak of nature, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Cockerel, probably. Which just so happens , like its forefathers, to taste delicious in a secret Kentucky recipe of breadcrumbs and spices, finger lickin’ good, some would proclaim.

So there you have it, the least scientific explanation of anything ever!

While we’re at it, some people say:

 ‘If we evolved from apes, how come there are still gorillas about?’

These people can kill themselves.

We (not people who ask this) evolved alongside apes, like ducks evolved alongside Ninja Cockerels (Chickens) and the cast of MTV’s ‘Geordie Shore’ evolved alongside amoebas and other pond life…

Gorillas in the mist or mugs that are pisssed?

So there you have it, a whole wall of absolute nonsense.

Maybe I’m just bitter… And I am.

 

*Lies, all lies.

Heckling: It’s not big and it’s certainly not clever.

We’re all self-entitled cunts (pardon my French); we think that by purchasing something it must be to our liking always… Not the case, first time you tried Dr Pepper some of you thought ‘not for me’, did you write to the Coca Cola Company to air your disdain, of course not. Yet when you pay £2 for an amateur comedy show and don’t like one joke or one act you think that entitles you to shout-out, to interrupt a show and be an aggressive bellend?!

Heckling at an amateur night isn’t cool, it’s not “part of the territory” or banter… Or something a comic should learn to deal with!

If it were acceptable why is it always only one dickhead or table of dickheads doing it? Why aren’t the other 200 people in the room doing it?!

If you were seeing a play that you weren’t enjoying, what would you do? At worst you’d walk out but you certainly wouldn’t shout something as unimaginative as “You’re shit” so why is that acceptable a comedy gig?

How big of a bellend was that heckler?

 

This isn’t just speaking as an amateur comic, I’ve never had anything as banal a “You’re shit” said to me but I have been heckled, and as a purveyor of stand-up nothing takes me out the moment of enjoying a good gig more than some cretin peacocking in front of his friends or haggard girlfriend.

You’re not part of the show.

You’re there to witness it, that’s why the seats are pointed at the stage and only one person has a microphone.

Sure, if the comedian asks you a question it’s a given you should answer but ask any comic ever if he thinks someone shouting out unannounced has helped a show and you’ll be greeted with a resounding ‘Hell no!’…

Sure, sometimes this results in hilarious comebacks that a lot of comics pre-write or quickly snap back but no comic wants to be heckled. They have jokes they’ve spent months writing and honing and only a set amount of time to tell them and you’re cutting into that time by being obnoxious effectively making the comic have to edit material on the fly and I have personally seen many an amateur drop the ball as a result.

If you’re a self-aware cunt (bloody French) and insist on heckling at least save it for the big dogs that’re actually getting paid, the little guy is already doing the gig for less than free as they had to cover their own travel costs and any drinks they consume.

There’s an old saying which applies: “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all” and the great Louis Ck took it to the next level when he said “If you have something you need to say to me, here’s what you do; you go outside, write it on a bit of paper and then you go kill yourself!”

Maybe I’m just bitter… And I am.

Driving - Not All Men Were Born Equal

Since the advent of the wheel, man has been fascinated with cars... probably.

I’ll admit I’m not a car person. Oh sure, I have one but the only thing I can tell you about it is that it’s silver with a peppering of bird shit and mainly houses a weird smell and multiple discarded fast food wrappers and it, err, gets me from A to B, yes.

I’m not a very good driver myself, I was on-off with lessons for many years, due mainly to being a poory poorerson and the fact I hate being told what to do, instructor or otherwise. I didn’t even take my test until the tender age of COUGH*24*COUGH.  My father on the other hand IS a driver, he was a taxi driver; delivery driver, truck driver, forklift driver, screwdriver… Okay, not the last one but he drove loads, he passed his test second time round. As a man who has driven since the age of 17 you’d think his only offspring* would have been a natural, surely.

My mother god love her failed 4 times before passing in her 30’s… That’s the gene I inherited, oh and her boobs, real men have boobs okay.

Me, I passed first time baby, first time - every time. *wink*

It’s true what they say; first time passers ARE the worst drivers! A mere month into my life as a driver I inadvertently drove the wrong way down a one way street, the only other car coming, a police car, naturally. They let me off because I seemed like a nice lad, but mainly because I’m not black or driving some car I’d made my new art project.

I’ve never understood the world of car modding or ‘pimping out your ride’, naming it ‘Sheila’ and getting your windows blacked out and the like. I’d only like them myself to hide my wretched face after I cut someone up in traffic.

There’s a trend for ‘boy racers’ to sit in little car gangs in supermarket and fast food restaurant’s car parks revving their engines which is both silly and no doubt incredibly boring but whatever floats your pimped out boat.

The only thing remotely car-esque I ever got into was the 2011 film ‘Drive’ and that was mainly because I want to be Ryan Gosling** so much so that I bought a bomber jacket and some leather gloves but I looked less anti-hero and more cat burglar (which by the way isn’t at all what it sounds like which is a real shame because I love cats!)

 

The opposite of what I look like.

 

So the ultimate message in all of this is I’m weird and a bit of rubbish driver. I’ll leave you with something my mam said that freaked me out when I asked her why she didn’t like driving, she hauntingly replied “Because you’re in control of this big hunk of metal that could ruin someone’s life in an instant.”

- Cheery stuff, happy motoring.

 

 

*Probably.

**I’m not gay but he’s dreamy.

A bitter Christmas message.

So, the world didn’t end. Shame. They say “you can sleep when you’re dead” and I was looking forward to that!

There’s something grimly satisfying about being a misery. I almost enjoy my disdain for humanity and its inhabitants, it’s comforting. It gives me something to talk about, complain about, a purpose. Humans are disgusting, just watch the news or visit a shopping centre.

Our ability of delusion is incredible, we think we’re so much better than the animals we parade in our homes and zoos but look at us; meat sacks of varying shape, size and levels of hair growth. A collection of orifices spewing different waste products of different colours and consistencies; all disgusting (except bogeys, everyone likes bogeys!) and all of us think we have this great purpose, that someday it’ll all work out, we’ll eat a magical bean that will turn us into successful, attractive and most importantly: rich, Gods!

Well I hate to burst your bubble (not really, I love it) but someone has to get ran over by a bus or contract the first known case of Buttburstsuperdeath-itis.

Thankfully we have this amazing survival instinct which helps us forget about the futility of existence, the same instinct that lets us forget an advert for starving children or abused poodles; ignorance.

They say “if you don’t have anything nice to say, then don’t say anything at all’ but what’s worse, being the arsehole who speaks his mind or the freak who’s a mute?

Sometimes I wish I could believe in religion, it must be comforting to believe you’ll go to a nice place when you pop your clogs and not just rot in some hole but I can’t and that’s a story for another time.

Is Christmas not the worst offender though?! My friends and I are Atheists and I’m certainly not here to lord it over anyone but why in God’s name do we celebrate Christmas; presents.

At 26, I have a job with enough expendable income to purchase any clothes, DVD’s or games I want, yet I’m not going to lie, I can’t wait to unwrap some shit I could have bought myself (not that I’ve ever bought myself socks), God bless you Saint Nick.

Does anyone think it’s a tad strange we give each other presents on Jesus’ birthday? We don’t do that for anyone else, I think we need something about June time to break up the year so from now on you can celebrate my birthday June 13^th, we’ll call it Mistakemas and encourage a new holiday of promiscuity.

Anyway, I am really looking forward to eating rubbish food guilt free because it’s Christmas!

I mean meat wrapped in more meat is worth the price of entry alone; pigs in blankets anyone? Yeah, because I regular consider meat from the same species a blanket… Could we dominate an animal more?! But don’t feel guilty just get that tasty goodness down your neck.

So eat well friends, drink too much, despise relatives you have to spend time with and exchange gifts you could have got yourself because it’s Christmas and Jesus loves you.

I’m off to wrap my presents and eat crap till I explode.

Merry Christmas, what have you got me?

Edit: I received my Die Hard Christmas Jumper yesterday which means I don't get to parade it's cuntiness in all it's tacky glory. So to rectify this just think of me as a cunt for an extra 5 minutes than you normally would.

Oh Christmas blog, oh Christmas blog...

So this is Christmas, and what have you done?

I’ve struggled to stay jolly, mostly. If one more shop worker wishes me a ‘Merry Christmas’ I'm going to have to punch a pensioner to restore the balance!
 
Christmas carollers can nick off too; I shouldn't feel awkward closing my own front door, even if it is in a child's face.
It needs to be regulated - they should ask if you want carols so you can politely decline - instead you open the door to them already singing and feel obliged to give them something; it's like someone shoving a mince pie in your mouth then asking for 50p.
I like to stop them mid-song Simon Cowell style *raises hand* 'sorry guys I just wasn't feeling it, I'm struggling to see who will buy your album!'
I'd have Dermott O'Leary just stood at the end on my garden to find out how they felt about my comments.
 
Everyone on Facebook needs to bugger off with the Coca Cola advert mentions too! I'm sick of it. It’s been the same bloody advert for like 20 years and they haven't had to change it. Pepsi need to pull their finger out! They should reinvent Santa; he could wear blue, should probably be black (for diversity purposes), can shoot lasers out of his eyes and transform into Rudolph.
Who wouldn't want to see that advert? A family distraught because their oven is broken and can't cook their Christmas dinner, then all of a sudden Rudolph crashes through the window, transforms into black Santa and uses his laser vision to cook the turkey in 5 seconds flat, Christmas is saved!
 
The tag line could be: 'Pepsi, it's not as good as Coke.'
 
The big advert this year is the John Lewis snowman advert; for those who haven't seen it, it stars 2 snowmen, snowpeople? Whatever the plural for snowman is?!
There's a snowman and a snowwoman (they're not anatomically correct, there's no 'snow boob' action or anything) and the story is the snowman wants to buy the snowwoman a present from John Lewis, naturally, a middle class snowman it would appear.
You see him travel for miles; across fields, a stream, up a mountain etc. and then you witness the most disturbing of scenes. Now, you'll have seen this bit and thought it completely harmless but once I tell you, you'll understand the true horror. There's a scene where the snowman hides behind a dumpster looking horrified as some people have a snowball fight. Seemingly harmless, but the only way you can relate this is if it were 2 humans, it had rained skin and some other species was throwing balls of that skin at each other for fun! This is on pre watershed too, kids will never sleep again and if your child still sleeps, he's probably a remorseless skin ball throwing lunatic.

Got wood?

 
I digress, he eventually makes it to John Lewis and heads home (you don't see his journey back, must have just got a taxi or skipped the Metro) to give his gift.
 
The advert ends with the reveal of the gift, discarded wrapper at her feet (stump), I presume they wrapped it in store as I'm not sure snowmen have the dexterity for gift wrapping, hell, I don't either and I've got opposable thumbs!

The present in question is a hat, scarf and gloves; a weak present for a human but a horrendous gift for a snowwoman. The last thing she needs is something that's going to keep her warm!
All I can imagine is he's been stuck next to her chattering on and is sick of her and wants to watch her slowly melt before his dark raisin eyes!

I'd like to see a follow up to the advert in about June time with the words 'John Lewis: all good things must come to an end.' And there's just an image of two carrots in a puddle.

Maybe I've missed the point?

It doesn't matter anyway as the Mayan calendar runs out on the 21st, so obviously, the world's going to end.
I don't see what the big deal is anyway, my Spice Girls calendar ran out in 1997 and nothing happened (well, the bullying stopped.)
I'm using the excuse to eat the remainder of my advent calendar on the 20^th, lest my soul has to spend eternity wondering what was behind that little door on the 22^nd.

I’m glad it’s not Christmas every day, it’s a pain in the arse.

Bah humbug.

Social Networking: Reading this may be bad for your health

It’s 5 am, and I’ve been up all night reading nonsense on the internet; nonsense because nothing I’ve read has helped forwards the advancement of me as person and nonsense because people are stupid.

I am people.

I’m not sure why we put ourselves through the daily shit storm that is Facebook and Twitter but we do. I probably read more social networking sites than I do actual articles or books. I imagine this will only get worse for the next generation. Of course, it’s easy to have a pop as people mainly state the obvious, like the weather or post pictures with a  cool Instagram filter of their latest meal and I am certainly no better, but why do we care?! Why do I care? I don’t, in theory.

I generally read Facebook or Twitter and scroll through the plethora of useless information on offer until I can take no more, there’s so much shit to wade through you’d need a hazmat suit to survive the onslaught for more than a half hour at a time; casual racism, bigotry and decimation of the English language are some of the tamer things you’ll encounter on your average scroll through, especially now Facebook shows everything your ‘friends’ like and comment on.

We have to suffer a lot of this stuff thanks to acquaintances we have to keep on these networks due to connections like work, mutual friends or in some rare cases family (not mine of course…)

So back to the question at hand, why do so many of us care?

I think because it’s a place to be heard, a place to interact, to be in with in crowd, to not miss out. People hate to feel bad or think of themselves as narcissistic or vacuous but any time you post something of no real substance or consequence, you’re pandering to your own vanity, your own sense of purpose and that you believe people should want to hear what you have to say even if it is: “It’s snowing!”

The exceptions are few and far between, your technophobic grandparents are probably on for genuine reasons such as staying in touch, but most (not all) under 30’s are just posting endless ‘talk to me, look at me’ updates that are pointless and oh so poorly written.

It can’t be good for perpetuating our ever shortening attention spans that we can only stomach such small chunks of text (Twitter’s 140 character limit, anyone?) There’s also an unsettling trend on web forums which is shorthand ‘TL;DR’ which stands for ‘too long; didn’t read’, has it really come to this?!

TL;DR? How about GFY (GO FUCK YOURSELF!)

 

I think it [social networking] may be bad for our health because it angers us (me) more than anything, and most people I know resent they spend so much time reading the unrelenting bile they could do without – but then what the fuck is this blog?

Talk to me, look at me I’m probably bad for your health.

I’m probably just bitter… And I am.

 

Editor’s note: This blog will soon be available as 30 Facebook updates or on audiobook, sometime never.