Tuesday, 12 June 2012

Happy, Trampy, Jolly, Wally.


They say money can’t buy you happiness, when I say “They say” I mean un-wealthy people say that, Why? It makes them feel better about not being rich.  They see happiness as a gift, that you don’t need money to have happiness. Look at homeless people they have no money but they’re not happy unless they’re drunk, man they love being drunk! When I was younger I saw two homeless men passed out spooning each other, it was heart warming until the big spoon threw up on the little spoon and a fight broke out. The little spoon won the fight which shows just because you like the warmth and protection of being the little spoon doesn’t make you a pansy (I should really start calling people pansies again, it’s a great word).



Over the years I’ve had some rather interesting conversations with homeless people, I think I converse with them more than normal people do, but less than someone who works in a shelter. Notice how I refer to them as Homeless people and not Hobos, they find that word offence, like black people with the N-word. one tramp sticks out in mind, he was more of a vagabond than your plain average have you got 50p tramp, I was waiting for my bus and he was sheltering from the rain, we got talking and he told me of a story how he got caught sleeping in someone’s shed so they hit him in the head with an axe, he showed me the scar, I was 13 at the time the scar was awesome, he was a great story teller, he really knew how to connect with his audience.



Anywhoo back to the point happiness... Happiness is a lot like love, people tell you that you have to find it, which is fine but I’m terrible at finding things. Rhianna found love in a hopeless place; I’m surprised she could see love with the black eye Chris Brown gave her.  She’s apparently dating  Chris Brown again, normally I’d say “she’s a grown woman she can make her own decisions” but four songs ago she didn’t even know her own name so maybe someone should step in and tell her it’s a bad idea.  Either way kudos to Rhianna for finding love, I could never find Wally so I doubt I’d be any good at finding love, I was always the last kid to find Wally, I’d be staring blankly at the pages while all the other kids stared at me, waiting for me to find the ever elusive Wally, I’d clam up and say I found him just so we could move on. This left me with the same feeling you get when you’re at crowded urinals and you get stage fright so you simply zip up and walk away, defeatism at its worst. Speaking of Wally what the fuck was that prick doing in Egypt wearing a woolly sweater and a woolly hat midday it’s about 35 degrees in Egypt (Siri just told me that. technology, isn’t it marvellous) He would be sweating his fucking balls off. Also who was his travel agent? You go on Holiday to get away from people, his hotels always looked over booked, I guess he must have stayed in hostels which explain why he could afford to travel to all those destinations.



Reading this back I realise it makes me come off as quite an unhappy person, but no I’m actually a very happy person (usually). Well not happy, fat people are never described as happy, it’s always jolly, you never get a skinny jolly person, jolliness is a fat mans trait, the same as a happy out going fat bird is ‘bubbly’. If you go on a blind date and the other person is described as Jolly or Bubbly don’t expect a size zero model to turn up, expect someone who loves desserts. I only bring up happiness because at the moment I’m pretty poor, so people  keep saying to me money can’t buy you happiness, it would be fine if I knew I wasn’t getting money soon, I’m currently waiting for payday which means I can afford to do things that make me happy, but until then  I’m  like a teenage boy who is waiting for the woman to get her tits out on babe station, I know in time I’m getting paid, as he knows  in time she’ll get her tits out, but that time just  isn’t coming fast enough.

Friday, 11 May 2012

Jabba the Rutt


I woke up at 3PM today, which makes it official I’m in a rut. It’s the same rut you used to get in towards the end of your six weeks holiday, the one where you have nothing left to do, you are all larked out. Unfortunately for me, most of my friends are busy during the day, sothere isn’t anyone to lark with , so I sleep all day, then spend my nights hanging with friends, gigging or hitting the two clubs I actually like in Hull, they all end the same, with me getting home in the early hours of the morning and watching late night T.V (I class it as late night T.V even though it’s 2 o’clock in the morning, it’s still night till you fall asleep or it gets light out).  My life isn’t really going anywhere, I have no full time job, no career prospects and I dropped out of university, I should be panicking and trying to find a way to move forward with my life, but yet here I am completely fine with it. It isn’t that I don’t want more from life or the finer things in life; I’m just comfortably numb with what I have now. I’d be lying if I said that don’t have melancholy moments about it, but even when I have  moments of reflection, I don’t see a way to change my circumstances, I feel as though I’m stood waiting for something amazing to happen, but then again isn’t everyone?



I did have a job. Getting a job actually made me feel worse about my life, maybe because it was in a call centre. I lasted the whole of three weeks before they “terminated” my contract. Terminated! Like they were Arnold Schwarzenegger sent back in time to kill my contract before it gave birth to John Connor the leader of the resistance.  What happened is that I went into work ill, I was throwing up, So I asked my boss if I could go home, she said that it was fine, so I headed home. I then came into work on the Monday, the bosses pulled me into an office and told me because I hadn’t waited for my boss to clear it with her boss, leaving the premises therefore meant I went “A.W.O.L”, which is an instant dismissal. Up until this point in my life I thought  A.W.O.L  was a military thing, oh and a shit Van Damme movie ( I said this at the time, clearly they weren’t JCVD fans as it didn’t even raise a smile, which is a shame because if comedy has taught me anything it’s always try and leave on a laugh).They really need to go over the language they use at call centres, using a word like A.W.O.L  made it seem like because I’d  left my post and enemy insurgents rushed the building and shot dead everyone inside, at the end of the day its call centre not a warzone.  When I got fired, I’ll be honest I was gutted, even though I hated every day that I worked in that place, It meant I couldn’t move out of my parent’s house, It’s like been fired had denied me the right to move on to the next step of life. It was reminiscent of when I was younger and my parents took me on a trip to Pleasure Island family theme park, it was the first time I had been to a theme park and I was an excited yet nervous wreck about riding a rollercoaster. I remember walking up to it thinking once I ride this rollercoaster I’ll be cool, like me riding this rollercoaster and bragging about it in school on the Monday would instantly earn me respect from the other kids in  my class, after all what did they do that weekend? (They probably spent it with their Dad, which was a norm for most kids at my primary school). Any ways I digress, I got to the front of the queue and I was too short to go on the rollercoaster by an inch, an Inch! The guy refused to let me ride. It was truly heartbreaking, I remember been stood with my Mum, crying my eyes out as I watched my brother and Dad have the time of their lives riding that rollercoaster. So what I’m saying the boss who sacked me and the guy who worked at Pleasure Island both left me devastated when they denied me the chance to take the next step in life, oh and they’re both cunts!



I realise that Americans won’t get that Van Damme film reference, to be fair most people won’t get that film reference, I suppose it is a perk of being a late night T.V watcher, you get to see a lot of shit films, But Americans won’t get it as the film is called Lionheart over there and I didn’t get fired for going Lionheart, a call centre wouldn’t even fire you for having a Lionheart, a Zoo might though.



I feel getting a new job would change my current rut, but finding a job is hard. Even KFC denied my application, if I can’t get a job at KFC where the hell am I meant to get a job? Out of spite I may go to McDonald’s and tell them that KFC called their Mum a slag, then sit back and enjoy the fast food war I started. If a war did start McDonald’s has the numbers but KFC have the weaponry, I imagine getting hit by a piece of fried chicken is gonna hurt a lot more than getting hit by a burger. Also look who is leading them into battle McDonald’s has a clown in charge, what use is a clown in a warzone? them shoes are hardly pratical and people would spot that nose a mile off. Look at KFC they have Colonel Sanders, I’ve checked on Wikipedia, he was actually in the army, shamefully not a real military Colonel, but is military trained; I’d want to be lead into battle by him rather than a clown (that isn’t even real).  So when the war is over, maybe then with thousand of fast food employees dead, my application may be successful, I’ll be employed, not happy, but employed.