Sleepwalking my way through life: October 2005

"Right now you're wondering if I'm still talking about my game aren't you?"

Friday, October 28, 2005
Another friday post.

I'm sitting here, a stomach full of junk and an ear full of good music. Our Lady Peace. They are pretty good. Seemingly happy, yet deffinately underlaid with emo-ish qualities. The most up beat and happy sounding songs seem to be the saddest. It's an interesting mix.

But I'm not here to talk about music, I'm here to try and answer some questions in my head.

I bought a game today, Guild Wars. It's an MMORPG (Massive multiplayer online role playing game), and I've been looking forward to it for a while now. I have a free night in where I can test it out and get a feel for it. I know that I'll eventually get hooked. I'll be off in a minute mum, I'm just about to level up. Ten more minutes, I've almost got that item. No mum, I dropped the Lapdancer, I didn't throw it down in a fit of fury because the goddamn magic spell didn't kick in in time.

I will spend a good chunk of my life on this thing. I will grow to love it in my own specil way. But I know the eventual outcome.

I will grow bored of it. I'll play it less and less, a slight resentment growing towards the game for not giving me new challanges, new experiences. I will toss it aside, like a copy of Gex. It will lie buried for a long time, and with any luck I'll forget it completely all together. In time another game will come along, this time and action/adventure, and the process will start again.

I never considor the game's feelings.

The gamer bought that game. The gamer made a commitment to play it. The gamer treated the game with love and it responded in the same manner. The game's feelings continue strong while the gamer's begin to waver. Does the game know what it's doing wrong? It's being the same it's always been, it hasn't lost any of the appeal that it had in the first place. Yet it's still being thrown to the side like a piece of crap. It doesn't understand what's wrong, it can't comprehend why the player is acting that way. The game signed up for a good long while, it doesn't expect to be left alone.

Right now you're wondering if I'm still talking about my game aren't you?

Now, I'd like you to imagine this scenario. The game has been bought, it has been taken home and played for a small while. Both the game and the gamer are having good fun. The gamer is beginning to get hooked, and it looks like the good times are never going to end. Now imagine the surprise of the game if the gamer turns around and exclaims, "I don't think I'll still be playing you after six months."

This puts the game in a very awkward position.

Should it stick it out, ride with the good times, have laughs, but with the ever looming feeling in it's gut? The feeling that one day, beyond any control of it's own, things will end. Or will it give up. Take me back to the store, shove me in the microwave, I'm gonna go out with a bang.

But it has no choice. The love for the gamer pushes it on. The sullen feeling in it's insides growing larger every second.

I am Guild Wars.

"Small world eh?"

Thursday, October 27, 2005
Another quick one I suppose.

Chris is bugging me to come off the internet, but he can go to hell for the next few minutes. I'm not budging until this is done.

I actually don't know what I'm going to write about. Sure, I have tons of stuff to update about from the past two weeks, but I'm really not in the mood right now. I'm more interested in the here and now, not the past.

Although... Here and now isn't very interesting. Watching the Simpsons while chatting on a shoutbox. Which is pretty hard to be honest.

My Graphics homework is sitting on the coffee table in front of me. I haven't done it yet, and it's due for tomorrow.

To dog it or not to dog it? That is the question.

Dog it.

I'll sit and do drawings at the weekend, but I hate showing up at school without doing any homework. You always feel singled out and that the teacher is disappointed with you. No, I don't care about how sad I am.

Right now I'm talking to Marie and an old friend on a shoutbox. I haven't spoken to this particular friend in going on... eleven years. We used to be good friends in primary one, but then she moved away. And now she's back, a very good friend of my dear Marie.

Small world eh?

So now we're (sort of) talking. I have a lot of catching up to do.

Before I go, I'd like to apologise. I'm going to stop posting so many spam blogs. Better ones will (Hopefully) follow.

"Like I said, ignore this post."

Wednesday, October 26, 2005
A quickie tonight folks.

An odd week so far. And it sure ain't getting any better.

I feel like a jackass. A twat. A self absorbed emo shit head that has nothing better to do than think deeply into things. So deep, in fact, that he sees things that aren't even there.

Fuck me I'm an idiot.

Ignore this post. For some strange reason I've decided to post here instead of sleep or learn my lines for Drama. The performance is tomorrow, and I know fuck all. Looks like I've got a good chance of passing eh?

The thing is, I was in a good mood today. Things were looking up from the past few days. It had been a fun day (Which I was originally going to write about) with a happy ending that turned into a steaming pile of crap. With a gallon of coke in my body I can safely assume that I won't sleep for the next hour or so. So to my drama I go, to learn my lines and to learn this fucked up dance that I'm being subjected to.

Yes, I missed a few god damned periods of drama. No reason to be fuckwits about it.

You'll learn all about all of this soon dear readers. Like I said, ignore this post.

I'm trying to vent my feelings about what just happened so I can feel content with the world again. But I have a feeling that it's going to take more than this blog to cure what ails me.

Fuck this, I need to practice.

"I am going to pwn that fucking homework."

Sunday, October 23, 2005
I'm going downhill.

It's fun, it's fast. I get what I want when I want it, my time is nothing but a blur of weekends and endless procrastinations. The speed is unmatched, the adreneline is intoxicating and freedom is beathtaking.

And then a sudden realisation hits me. I can't stop.

It's not fun, it's too fast. I want too much, my weekends have ended, I can no longer procrastinate. Too fast, too unsafe.

Shit, what have I done?

I have homework that's weeks overdue, money that's flowing out of my account into a pit of entertainment and food, and I'm terrified at what's going to happen.

I have three textual analysis', a book to read, two books to read and begin to analyse, a story to write, an essay to redo, to finish my script, to learn my script, to finish off four pages of my thematic presentation, and a play to read. "I'll do it tomorrow" I would say as I bathed in the glow of my Lapdancer. They piled up on my floor and I watched on with no urge to finish them.

In the the short ten weeks since I have began school, I have spent over a thousand two hundred pounds. Five hundred of which has been in the past four weeks. My nest egg of one thousand two hundred pounds (That I have been saving since birth) is down to just over a thousand. That's including the thousand pounds I made over summer. I go out into town, a tenner in my pocket for the train and food, and I take out twenty quid at a time, just incase I see something. And I always see something.

Things have to change.

Tomorrow I'm taking another day off. I'm sick, I'm ill, I need to rest. The real reason? I'm going to sit in my room and do all my fucking homework. Every last piece of paper is going to be written, drawn or acted out. I am going to walk into school on Tuesday morning with a smile on my face, knowing that I am up-to-date and ready to look teachers in the eye again. I am going to pwn that fucking homework.

My bank card is also going to leave it's comfortable nook in my wallet and take up residence on my bedside table. It'll only make an appearance on weekends where I shall take out no more than ten pounds. Anything that I want to buy specifically I save. The twenty pounds I get every month as pocket money is going to train tickets. The five pounds I get a week for food will be kept for food. A guy has got to eat.

As I say these things to myself I begin to slow down. The ground is evening out slightly, and the roar of wind in my ears has lessened.

I'm taking control of my life.

"That was over half an hour ago."

Another late night post I see.

I'm gonna have to stop this though. when I get back to school I'm going to need all my energy to stay awake for class.

Fuck, my mum sneezed again. I need to type quietly...

I actually have a reason for staying up late. Marie didn't actually come out today as first planned. Her parents had stayed home instead of embarking on their weekly trip to a caravan somewhere down south, so she wasn't allowed out for the day. The original plan for the day was to walk around glasgow during the day and to go to the cinema in the evening or night, depending on our moods. But since Marie couldn't come out today I was thinking of skipping the film and phoning her early as a nice surprise so we could talk for longer on the phone.

But I forgot that she was out at a party tonight.

So I couldn't phone her. She's going to phone me soon though. She said that she'd call in ten minutes. That was over half an hour ago.


I was in a very deep mood earlier, I had a very thoughtful and philosophical blog to write out. But I thought-

My phone's ringing.


"You know what I mean."

Saturday, October 22, 2005
It's half two in the morning.

HALF bloody TWO.

I should be in bed right now. Well, I am in bed, but you know what I mean. I should be asleep, seeing how I've got a busy day tomorrow. Well, today.

You know what I mean.

I'm sitting here, hyper as hell yet about to go to sleep. It's amazing how active you can be at half two in the morning. I have a lot of babble going through my mind at the moment. I would give you an example, but I fear it may bring terror to your very soul.

Moving on.

I'm hungry. I haven't had anything to eat since chicken nuggets at dinner, and that was... Oh, lets say seven hours ago? Apart from a Malteaser I found on the floor, because that doesn't count.

Marie was round today. She had a day off, I had a day off. I couldn't come out, so she came in. We spent almost the entire time in my room just talking and stuff. We were going to watch Donnie Darko but I couldn't find the DVD. I think Feeney could have it.

Anyway, the day was fun. I felt so sad when she climbed into the taxi and went to work. I'm even seeing her again tomorrow, well today, and I still miss her. We're all going into Glasgow for the day and she's coming along too. We're also going to go see Corpse Bride in the evening, but we're going to the UCI cinema and I don't think Marie would want to do that.

We talked for three hours on the phone the other night. She got the phone bill through yesterday and over seventy quid worth of phone calls were directed to me. Yeah, we talk for quite a long time. Eight hours were to my mobile form when we were first going out.

I love her so much.

I'd better get to sleep soon. Like I said, I've got a busy day tomorrow (Today, whatever...) and I need my rest. I'm going to spend all of Sunday doing homework. I said to myself that I would spend most of the past week doing homework (We've been on holiday don't you know?) but I haven't done anything. I have so many things due for Graphics and Drama and I know that Ms.Harte is already pissed off with me because of my homework or lack thereof.

Shit. I just heard my mum sneeze, meaning she's still up. Crappit I really have to go to sleep now. I'll update soon.

Until next time true believers!

We aren't allowed to call it a "play". Jesus..."

Tuesday, October 18, 2005
I'm in a odd mood. Brace yourselves.

But I'm not going to talk about that just yet. First I have a quick little message.

Don't try and get into my account. I have a very different password for this one than I have for all my other interweb accounts. So please don't try and get into it. It really isn't nice.

How do I know that someone has been trying to get into my account?

Well when you log in, as like all internet log-ons, you have to provide a user name and password. My username is well known, as is one of my various passwords. But the great thing about these things is that if by some chance you forget your password you have an option that lets you retrieve it. It's quite simple. They link your user name to your e-mail and, hey presto, you have a new arrival in your inbox filled with passwordy goodness.

So it was a great surprise seeing as I received one of these password e-mails. Especially since I didn't request one.

Like I said before, don't bother trying.

It's coming up to midnight.

I should be sleeping, but I'm not. I have an itch at the back of my mind and I feel like this is the only way to scratch it.

Thursday was a very fucked up day indeed.

I had planned a long lie in that morning since I was staying off to receive delivery from B&Q for mum. But the plan was completely fucked when the phone rang at half nine, causing me to wake with a start. I scrambled for the phone.

"It's mum. Are you up?"

"I am now." I reply, scratching my head. "What is it?"

"The B&Q men are arriving in five minutes with the stuff."


"They phoned up and told me that they're arriving in five minutes. Remember to check off each item as they deliver it ok?"

"Yeah yeah, sure sure." I say while pulling clothes on with one hand. "Yeah, ok, I got it. See ya tonight then."

"No, I'm in Manchester tonight. I won't be back until tomorrow evening."




I hang up the phone and trudge down stairs. As promised the B&Q men came and delivered the goods. I hovered on the driveway and watched them unload the various objects into the garage, forgetting to check off each item on the list as they went. Ah well, it doesn't matter.

I phoned my mum up to tell her about the delivery. Yes it went fine. No, no damaged goods. Yes, everything as there.

"Well I suppose you can go to school now."

"What!" I exclaimed, looking at the clock tick past the ten 'o'clock mark.

"There's no point in you staying off is there? And you have lot of things to do in Graphics."

"I suppose..."

No way in hell was I going to school. I had too much unfinished homework.

I collapsed on the couch. The chill from being outside had woken me up so there was no point in attempting to sleep. I tried to make the best of daytime television but I was eventually driven to my Gamecube where I (finally) finished Resident Evil 4.

Fuck me I love that game.

As I was playing through some of the extra features of the game my phone began to vibrate. John was calling, wondering why I was off and how dare I miss an RE discussion with Ms.Glen. I gave my excuse and hung up due to the interference that was created by me blowing down the receiver.

Time passed as I played more and more while neglecting to do my homework. I got a knock on the door and saw that the B&Q men had returned. They had forgotten to deliver some doors and had decided to return and hand them over. I suddenly realised why mum had stressed that I should tick each item off so much.

Ah well, no damage now.

About three seconds after I had closed the doors on the B&Q men, the doorbell rang for the third time that day. I opened the door expecting the B&Q men once more and to lecture myself about how I should have once again ticked off the damn receipt, but I was wrong.

"Sign here please."

I signed the form and received a long, thick cardboard tube before the delivery man retreated to his van.

"Who was that?" Chris called down the stairs.

"Some delivery guy" I said, looking at the label on the tube. "Looks like it's for... You?"

"OH! Thank god they finally came!" He cried, rushing down the stairs and snatching the tube from my hands. He ran into the living room, opening it as he went. He rolled out seven posters on the floor. As he examined each one I picked up the receipt and looked it over.



"Seventy quid on posters!"

"Noooooo. Fifty quid on posters, twenty on post and packaging."

"Oh, and that's SO much better isn't it?"

They are quite classy posters. But seventy quid? Nah, I'd much rather spend money on something a little more substantial...

Like Manga.

I resumed my gamefest for most of the afternoon. Metroid is a really tough game when you get into it. I mean there's this whole thing where you have to do it in a specific order and it takes a lot of concentration to figure out where to go next and what to-

My phone was ringing.

I flipped it open, the number foreign to me, and answered.

"Hi Joe."

"Hiya," I replied, not recognising the voice. "What's up?"

"Where are you?"


"Are you sick?"

"No, I had to receive a package from my mum. It's a long story."

"Can you come into school? We really need you in drama."

Ah, it was Jennifer. She's in my group in drama class.

"Why, what's wrong?"

"He's making us do our performance AGAIN and we need you here since you're the main character in practically all of them."

"I dunno if I can make it."


I hesitated. "Call me back in ten. I'll see what I can do."


I ran to my brother asking for his opinion on the matter. I was expecting him to give me a good excuse to stay off, but no. He suddenly decides to be my fucking conscience.

Ten minutes later I was out the door in full uniform. I glanced at my watch again, since I left early then we'd still have twenty minutes to perform when I got there. I traversed the three miles to school easily, although the unusually bright sun did make me sweat for a bit.

I reach the door to the school, straighten myself up, and step in. I walk up to the corner in the Crush where I see my group working furiously with scripts. I glance at my reflection in the window and wince at my curly hair. To get there on time I had to neglect my hair straightening duties, meaning that my afro would put a young Michael Jackson to shame.

I walk in sight of my group, "You laugh, I go home."

I was almost knocked over by the wall of laughter. What a way to repay a fucking favor folks.

I haven't even gotten to the best part yet. I sat down and amongst the rabble I deciphered a few last minute script changes and got to work. They were simple, a line here and a step there, but the group had gotten someone else to fill in for me in two of the scenes, so I basically had to do three scenes out of five.

"Nice of you to come into school!" My drama teacher said, walking to our area.

Shut up you fat bastard. It it wasn't for your bald, tiny ass I wouldn't be here so shut the fuck up.

"Nice of you to make our group go first, sir." I said through gritted teeth behind smiling mouth.

"Well, it's time for you to perform. Everybody inside the classroom!"

I went over the script changes in my head. Simple, easy, no problem, I thought. And so we set off to do the performance (We aren't allowed to call it a "play". Jesus...)

The first scene was easy, seeing as it was the one I wrote. The next two were scenes that they had someone to fill in for me. I sat at the side, going over the other two scripts, trying to remember our lines. The third scene ended and I stood up, ready for my part.

"Ok, we've ran out of time. Pack up."

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

"I came all this way only to be not needed when the time came." I ranted to Hannah as I stuffed my scripts back into my bag.

"He said that we had to do our performances today," she replied, "even though we're the only group who's done it and we had you were missing."

"Why couldn't he just do another damn group?"

"We told him that you were away and we couldn't do our stuff. He told us to give you a ring and get you up here."


"We were sitting here, waiting for you to come up when he started to shout at us for not doing anything. We told him that we were waiting for you to come up and he told us to get someone else to fill in."

The profanities that spewed from my mouth cannot be repeated.

I walked home instead of taking the bus. I wasn't in the mood to be sitting in a stuffy bus that's filled with the smell of shit and the sounds of a group of apes at the back of the bus. As I walked through the centre I bought a dvd or two to cheer myself up. I was having a shitty day.

I got home and Chris decided to take me to see Serenity, seeing as he hadn't seen it yet. Afterwards he treated me to a Dominoes Pizza. My day became slightly brighter.

But when I got home I called Marie, and we had a fight that concluded my day as being a very crappy one. I'm not going into details.

I know, this is a large blog for such a boring and uninteresting day that happened over a week ago, but I don't care. It's taken me over a week to write and I'll be damned if I don't post it.

More updates of my holiday will probably follow soon.

"I'm feeling oddly philosophical."

Wednesday, October 12, 2005
I checked my watch again.

The luminous hands read just past eleven. It had been a hell of a day. I looked out the taxi window and saw the night life of Glasgow in all it's glory. The throngs of people making their ways to various places for various night outs. I make a quiet sigh before my attention returns to the inside of the car. The seat was deep, comfy and , combined with the dull pang of air freshener, I was pretty relaxed. The driver in front of me laughed at something out the window and I eyed him in the mirror for a moment. I finally struck up a conversation.

"So, where you from?" I ask, looking out the window again.

"Crookston." He replied.

"Really? That's where my girlfriend lives."

"That pretty young thing that we left at the station?"

I smiled to myself. "Yeah."

It had been one hell of a day.

"She looked nice." He said, looking at me through the wing mirror. "Not caked in make-up like some of the girls out there."

"I know."

"She seemed more real."

"You got that from a three second conversation?" I laughed.

He laughed back, a cheery, light hearted laugh. "She isn't like that girl over there I can tell you." He said, indicating to a solitary girl on the pavement. A scarf wrapped around her waist like a skirt and knee high leather boots with heels as thin as pin points. She wobbled up and down the pavement in an attempt to look sexy. "She needs to wiggle her hips, not her whole body."

"She could be just shivering. It's pretty cold out there."

"If it was two foot of snow she'd still be wearing that get-up I tell you."

"Well it's fashion over function." I muse.

"I don't get that. When I buy shoes, I buy them 'cause they protect my feet, not 'cause they go with my new coat."

"It's an image thing." I say. "Back at school we had a big snow storm once, absolutely terrible. Harsh winds and freezing snow that was about a foot deep. Most of us came into school all wrapped up to protect ourselves from the cold, but there was this one girl who didn't. She was the styled type, you know, always came in all done up and perfect. Well that day she didn't bother to wrap up and came in soaking and shivering like mad."

"Oh, that blue top is so pretty on you, it matches your perfectly blue skin!"

"Exactly!" I laugh.

We drop the conversation for a while. I look out the window again and watch the world pass by. Street lamps illuminate young couples walking happily down the street, hand in hand. Lights are on in tenements, houses, flats. The world seems to be alight with life. I'm feeling oddly philosophical.

"Bloody lights." Driver says as he brakes at another set of traffic lights.

"They're good and bad at the same time."

"How'd you mean?"

"Well, they help people cross the road safely, but at the same time they're a nuisance to drivers."

"Not all people. Most cross the road without lights. Which is ridiculous seeing as there are lights almost everywhere."

"Maybe they purposefully decide to cross without lights. You know, to seem rebellious."

"That could be the case," he laughed, "but I wonder. If you put lights on every inch of the pavement, what would they do? They probably wouldn't know what to do with themselves."

"I'd be more worried about all those disgruntled drivers. All those lights!"

He laughed again. "There should be some law about crossing the road. Like in foreign countries. In America you get a fine, in Sweden you get charged, and in Germany you even get thrown in jail!"


"Yeah! They say that if you're at a set of red lights in Germany and there are no cars for a hundred miles, if you take a step onto the road a hand grabs your shoulder and pulls you back, assuming you've made a mistake."


"I know. And what do we get? People dancing about in the middle of the roads."

"There's a bright side to it though. You get plenty of opportunities to test your brakes."

"Yeah, but not all brakes are up to standard. I heard somewhere that one in ten brakes are faulty."

"That's disconcerting."

"I know. And I tell you, when was the last time you saw someone check their tire pressure or look under their car for brakes?"

I thought for a moment. He was right. Beside the occasional people at the petrol station checking out their cars, no one did it.

"Can't think of any can you?" he said, interrupting my thoughts.

"You're right," I said, "but now I'm feeling slightly uneasy about this car."

He laughed. "Don't worry, I check this car every week. Regulations you see. And I have to- SHIT!"

The car swerved to the left as another car on the other side of the road narrowly missed us. I caught a glimpse of laughing men, drinks in their hands and beaming faces. The taxi levels itself and we're on course again.

"Jesus, that was a bit close!" Driver gasped.

"You're telling me."

After a short pause, Driver speaks again. "Now, if we didn't have brakes just there, where do you think we would be."

"In a crumpled mess on the side of the pavement back there?"

"Exactly. It makes you think doesn't it?"

"About how you can climb into a car and never climb out? Yeah, it's scary. But that's what makes life interesting I suppose. All those little dangers and risks we take every day."

"Makes you feel alive."

"I suppose."

A thoughtful silence filled the taxi. I thought of all the times I could have been a splatter on someone's windshield. Someone's messy speed bump. No doubt my driver friend was thinking about the same things.

"And it isn't just people who have messed up brakes." He began again, a little slower. "It's people who don't have good reaction time either. Like when they're on those mobile phones."

My phone begins to ring. Speak of the devil.

"Can you give me a sec? My phone's ringing."

He laughs. "Sure. Go ahead."

I pick it up. It's my mum asking where I am and when I'll be home. I fill her in on the details and hang up. A glance out the window tells me that I'm almost home. Too bad, I think. I'm having too much fun.

"That the mother?"

"Yeah. Just wondering about me."

"At least that call was short. I get people in here who talk non-stop. There was one two girls who sat in the back. And one of them was on their phone constantly, leaving the other out."

"And the point in that being?"

"I don't know! Can you imagine the invitation out? 'Hi, do you wanna come out this Saturday to listen to me talk endlessly on my phone?' Bloody mobile phones I tell ya."

"It isn't all bad. It can be used for emergencies and stuff. That's what mine is mostly for. Well, that and talking to my friends. Oh, take a left here."

"I don't own a phone, or a computer for that matter."

"Really? I can't live without either... Pathetic huh?"

"No, it's my choice anyway."

"I suppose. Oh, take a right just now. And a right here and then down the bottom of the street." The car pulls up to in front of my house. "Just here will do."

"Ok then. That'll be eleven pounds mate."

I hand him a ten pound note and a pound coin. He takes it and stores it in a little bag on his dashboard. I open my wallet again and search around for some change.

"Look, if I had any decent change I'd give you a tip. I half to admit I had a lot of fun."

"No worries. It's been fun for me too."

He offers a hand and I shake it, a friendly smile on my face.

"Until next time." I say.

"Cherrio." He replies.

I step out the car and close the door before he drives off into the cold October night. I breathe a sigh of relief and head inside with the knowledge in my heart that I made a friend tonight. And I'll never see Driver again

"A whole lot of shit comes out."

Tuesday, October 11, 2005
I'm sacrificing sleep for this post, so I'd better make it good.

Or at least decent.

I don't even know why I'm writing this. I'm in a very thoughtful mood right now and I suppose I should vent them before I try to sleep but fail since I have so many things floating about in my head.

The days are getting darker which is a clear cut sign that winter is approaching. I'm not too sure about winter anymore to tell the truth. I used to love it. I quite liked the idea of coming home and turning on a light to see the room. I liked the way the central heating welcomed me as I stepped through the door, melting the icicles off my ears. I liked the snow.

But now? I'm not so sure.

Maybe it's because winter has only just begun. My thoughts are still lingering on the summer months (In my mind, autumn doesn't exist) and perhaps that's why I'm not welcoming the cold weather. I know that I'm not welcoming the recent downfall of rain. Every drop threatens to ruin my look and worsen my day. I know, how incredibly superficial of me to base my looks on a good day/bad day situation. But it's true.

A friend once asked me why I straightened my hair every day. My response was so I could look good. So he asked me what would happen if my hair was all curly and afro-like the way it used to me. I would have a bad day.

My self-confidence and self-esteem would lower dramatically. I'd focus a lot more on my English accent and how people can't understand me when I say certain things. I slur more words than usual. I hunch more. I don't make eye contact. Ecetera ecetera.


I'm going to go now before I delve deeper into my self-hating thoughts. I shouldn't really write when I'm tired. A whole lot of shit comes out.

And I haven't even done my English homework yet.

Ah crap.

"I bought a Bible today."

Monday, October 10, 2005
There's something soothing about waking up in your bed and seeing the one you love lying beside you.

Even if it was only a ten minute nap.

We had watched Serenity that afternoon. I know, it's shocking that we finally WATCHED a film. But I really wanted to watch it this time, seeing as how this was the movie of one of my favourite tv shows ever. And it lived up to expecations. It even SURPASSED them, which I didn't think possible.

Watch it. NOW.

After the film ended we headed onto the train and went back to my house. Marie was staying for dinner. We got in and spent an hour in my room before dinner was ready. We ate, and it was good. But right after it we headed back up to my room for the remainder of the three hours.

Now many things happened in these three hours. None of which I'm going to mention in detail. But lets say there was a lot of happiness, a lot of fun, and only a tad of crying.

The end.


I bought a Bible today.

I know, it's like the ultimate form of irony. An athiest reading about God. But I was reading the Weir of Hermiston and it was full of all this religious stuff, and I thought back to the Crucible where they basically lived by the Bible.

So I've decided to take a gander at it. Just to see what it's all about.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not researching for my own beliefs, this is purely analysing. Just because I don't believe in God dosn't mean I can't look into it.

I'd like to believe in God. Some powerful being that sits in the clouds and looks down on this world with a caring and forgiving smile. But no. In my mind God is just the unknown facor in an equation. For example, unanswerable questions. Why are we here? Why is the world the way it is? What happens after we die?

Answer: God.

My theory. God is is the fear of death. People are scared of the "afterlife" so they put God in. Be good and get put into Heaven.

I need to go now. I'll probably read for that matter...

"This time it was all Joe."

Sunday, October 09, 2005
I feel like shit.

It's amazing how a fantastic weekend can crumble around a few simple words.

Those goddamned words. I wish my brain moved as fast as my mouth.

This is the first time I've felt this way in just over four months. And it wasn't someone else's doing. Nope. I can't blame anyone but me. This time it was all Joe.

The phone fell silent as I uttered them. It stayed silent for a good long while until I was almost in tears. But now everything seems to be fine again. But it's not.

I still feel like the steaming pile of crap that you scrape off the bottom of your shoe.

And fuck me it was a fantastic weekend.

I feel like playing Russian roulette with a full clip.

"Piss the fuck off."

Friday, October 07, 2005
It's Friday again, which obviously means one thing.

The stuffy library coupled with the never-ending drawl of Mr.Ramsay is almost sending me to sleep, but I have something to write and I'll be damned if I don't put it up here.

First off, I'd like to thank all the readers who provide constructive comments on my rambles of day to day life. It's thanks to you guys that I've been able to change this blog into the thing you see before you, making me spur on to try and make it that much better.

But, and this is a big but, I would like to tell all those other commentors a simple message. This message goes to all the spam, pointless and hate comments that I receive on my humble site:

Piss the fuck off.

No, I do not want to hear about Penile Extenders. I do not want to hear about Business Cards. I do NOT want to hear about Hurricane Katrina Victims (Though I do in fact feel sorry for them and their troubles). I do not want to hear about other blogs, where I can advertise my blogs, where I can get funny fonts for my blogs.


Now, here comes the best part, the one that I would especially like to express to all those hate mailers out there.

If you don't like the way I write then don't comment on the damn blog!

Simple, no? If you have something constructive to say, fine, bring it on. I dare say that this place needs some improvements. But if you just popped round to say "You suck." or "Ur website relly blws" then you have my highest recommendation to go shag yourself in Hell.

Jen. Chaz. I'm looking at you.

Now, my last post has received some feedback, and I feel mighty obliged to respond to it.


Anyone that actually knows you knows that you don't strike up conversations with random taxi drivers. Nor does life ever sound so perfectly rehersed.

Quit living in your little dream world where you rule, cause you don't"

Well that stings a bit dear reader. But before I set off and tell you why you are wrong, I need to say something first.

Thanks for using (mostly) correct spelling and grammar (I appreciate that stuff). Thanks for forming your comment so it's easy to read. And thanks for using an insult that actually poses a question to be answered.

Now it's time for an ass kicking.

I do not lie on this blog.


If I feel the need that I have to lie about something, I leave it out. Sure, I may get some details incorrect, and I may not remember the whole of a conversation so I just write the jist of it, but I do not lie. And you can have my word on that one.

Secondly, I'm glad that you know me. But if you haven't talked to me recently then you have no idea what I'm like. You don't know if I say "Hi" to random people on the street for a laugh, you don't know what I can do in the humor section of Borders, you don't know what I can and cannot do. Period.

And finally about the "rehearsed" aspect. Well, like I said before, I leave stuff out. And if the stuff I leave out makes me look like some super cool guy on here? Well so be it.

I'd like to apologies for all the other readers here. Regular programming will return shortly...

"And we danced."

Wednesday, October 05, 2005
I checked my watch again.

The luminous hands read just past eleven. It had been a hell of a day. I looked out the taxi window and saw the night life of Glasgow in all it's glory. The throngs of people making their ways to various places for various night outs. I make a quiet sigh before my attention returns to the inside of the car. The seat was deep, comfy and , combined with the dull pang of air freshener, I was pretty relaxed. The driver in front of me laughed at something out the window and I eyed him in the mirror for a moment. I finally struck up a conversation.

"So, where you from?" I ask, looking out the window again.

"Crookston." He replied.

"Really? That's where my girlfriend lives."

"That pretty young thing that we left at the station?"

I smiled to myself. "Yeah."

It had been one hell of a day.

The train in was the usual. The banter as hilarious as ever as we traversed the distance from my town into Glasgow. Maddy had brought pictures from days of yore. She wouldn't let me burn the pictures of my short curly hair. The time flew by before I could notice and I soon found myself at Crossmyloof. One stop from Glasgow.

My stomach did a small but significant flip.

I became obsessed over my looks. My hair, my clothes, my everything needed to be perfectly in check. I knew that we had been going out for four weeks, but she still has that effect on me. I glanced out the window and watched as we passed over the Clyde. My stomach twinged.

The right woman can have that effect on a man.

And my right woman was standing at Tie Rack, smiling a nervous smile as I led her over to where my friends were standing. She had been expecting an inquisition. An endless barrage of questions about her personal life and her intentions with me. Her fingers gripped my hand tightly as we joined the group, and we started talking.

But not for long, soon I had whisked her away all to myself. Whispering sweet nothings into her ear all the way up to the cinema. A smaller cinema this time, one that would be quieter than the ever-busy UGC.

The film ended and we wandered around Glasgow taking in the sights and smells. A light wind was in the air, making me feel cool in the warm autumn sun. Marie, however, was totally different. Wearing a skirt doesn't do too well for a body's insulation, and she shivered for most of the time. We settled in George Square and huddled close on a bench, keeping each other warm.

Time flew by on that bench, and before I knew it five o'clock had rolled around. Time for dinner.

We headed to TGI Fridays and asked for a seat. We walked out five minutes later and headed into Borders to hang about for an hour. The waiting list was up to forty minutes and we needed to pass the time somehow, so we looked at books that she needed for University and I showed her some of my Manga. But that got old really fast and we wandered around looking at random books.

We headed down to the first basement and sat on some stools in the African History section. There was some old fifties music playing in the background, and combined with the warmth of the room, I was content. We just sat there in silence for a while. Doing nothing except breathe slow and heavy breaths. I stood up before pulling her up slowly with me. The area we were in was practically deserted, so I held her close to me, my arms wrapped around her waist.

And we danced.

A slow, rhythmic movement to the music that was playing. It was nice, and I never felt closer to her than I did then. But it was soon all over. A glance at my watch told me that I we had to make our way back to TGIs or we'd lose our place. I took her by the hand and led her out, the old fifties music still lingering on my memory.

Dinner was fun. We both ordered a half rack of ribs and I got a side of salad to split which I ended up eating all by myself. We talked, we laughed and we ate. The food was good, so we finished it relatively quickly and decided to order desert. The waitress came over to take our plates away and we ordered a hot fudge sundae to split. The table was emptied, and it was only us.

The perfect time.

She gazed at the walls and out the window, her attention diverted for a few moments. My hand shot to my bag and I brought out the present before sliding it over the table. Marie didn't know that I had bought her a present, thinking that the dinner and cinema was her birthday treat, so the look of surprise on her face as she looked at the purple wrapping paper with the silver ribbon was priceless. She opened it slowly and carefully, trying not to rip the paper or bow, until she reached the black box inside.

She loved the necklace.

We stepped out of TGI's at about half seven. And since it was still early and I had a late curfew that night we decided to go for another film. The UGC was showing Pride and Predjudice so we walked up there and sat in the packed cinema together. I didn't let go of her once throughout the whole film.

It ended, and we headed to the train station where we squashed ourselves into a photobooth to pass time until the train arrived. The resulting photo is now resting in my wallet this very second.

There were some problems on the tracks so a replacement bus service was available. "Estimated time of arrival at [my town]: Four hours"

Marie phoned up a taxi for me. One last kiss before I jumped into the taxi and he drove away.

It had been one hell of a night.

"I do believe I've started a frenzy."

Tuesday, October 04, 2005
A quick update.

I'm sitting in the library with Cara and Jason. Cara has just finished typing an update to her blog, and I have just finished reading Jasons blog. Gary has one too, and a funny one that made me laugh out loud more than once. And as soon as she finishes her classes, I bet Clare is going to make one too.

I do believe I've started a frenzy.

But moving on.

Yesterday was fun. I skipped double English to hang out with Marie since she finished Uni arly today. We sat in the cinema with only two other people in it and watched the Longest Yard. The film itself isn't too bad, a bit cheesey at times, but still a decent film.

But I damn the two people who were sitting two rows in front.

I was walking her back to the train station for it was time for her to leave, when someone noticed me.

"Joe!" Chris shouted from the other side of the road.


"You are busted." He said when he reached us, his face beaming.

I introduced them and we talked for a bit. He got let out of Uni early too since his course was so easy and was heading to the town centre to hang about with James and Emma. We parted ways.

Marie left and I went home.

"Why are you late?" Mum asked, looking at the clock that read quater past five.

"I was out with everyone in the town centre. Maddy wanted to get a top-up for her phone and Clare wanted to hand CVs in. But there was a problem with Quicksilver by Debenhams, they wouldn't accept it for fourty minutes for some reason. They took it eventually, but it was still annoying."

Hell yes. I rock when under pressure.

"Oh, ok then."

And I was in the clear. Mostly.

Chris came in at about half nine and sat down to watch tv. I was on my Lapdancer on the other couch and mum sat beside Chris in her usual spot.

"So," Chris said, "I met Marie today."

My head shot up and I glared at him. He didn't see me.

"What?" Mum said.

"Yeah, Joe was walking her to the train station."

That's when he saw me, eyes glaring at his direction. He knew that he had made a mistake and shut up.

"Joe. Please tell me what happened."

"Well, everything I said happened, but Marie was there too. She got out of Uni early and came round to our Town Centre with her mum. She stayed for a bit afterwards to hang out with me."

She accepted this.

"Don't lie to me again."

"I didn't lie, but ok."

"You did lie!"

"No I didn't, I left something out, totally different from a lie."

"It's a lie by ommission."

"Lie by ommission my ass!"

"Since you find this so funny you can come off the pc."

"Fine." I laughed. I went upstairs and watched DVDs in my room. Chris came up at some point to go to the toilet and he poked his head in to apologise for putting me in it. I didn;t mind since he wasn't to know and I wasn't mad. So it's all good.

I'm gonna head off now, so I'll update properly later. Last night I got into a story writing mood and started writing the events of the weekend in prose. So I'll probably finish that tonight sometime.

Watch this space.