I’ll let you know now that I have no intention of trying to make this funny, so if you continue to read it is your own fault.
What happened to me just now? I’ve always been a very miserable, depressed person but I hide it well. Very well. In fact, it is one of the few things I pride myself on. But something happened when I left everyone earlier. Something made me feel a damn sight worse than usual but I don’t know what it is. I had a really nice afternoon with Laura ‘Lexx’ at das museum. There was big skeletons of animals I can’t remember the name of and lots of contradicting facts. Did you know, for example, there is a type of cool looking foxy thing that apparently whales evolved from? Neither did I until I saw this. But I read on. The next paragraph said that whales had been about for 64,000 years BEFORE this weird fox thing existed. How the FUCK did it evolve from something 64,000 years younger than itself? That’s like my Mam giving birth to me 64,000 years before 1986. That shit don’t fly with this wigga. It makes less than no sense. It was also a very racist place. All I’ll say is there’s a bit that goes; Monkey, monkey, black guy, but it implies they are all the same. Laura has a picture. I’ll link you to them when she puts them up so you know what I mean.
What I was going to say though was that I am overwhelmed with a feeling of under-achievement. Stand-up is going alright for me, and in the last few weeks I’ve had some of the best feedback/critisism/improvements of my ‘career’ to date. But that is it. 24 years and all I have is a couple of good things people have said to me or I’ve said something to someone worth writing down. And a drawing people seem to like too much of a veg doing a rape on a kid. I’ve seen NOTHING of the world. I’ve done NOTHING. I have very few stories to tell people. I’ve hardly slept with any women and I’ve inadvertently made myself out to be a dick to some of the best people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I’ve been mugged ten times. I already have a denture in replace of a real tooth. That denture, by the way, is next to half a tooth as I cannot seem to stop hitting my face-slash-getting hit in the face. I’ve done plenty of things (inadvertently. Sometime not so inadvertently) that I deserve to be hit in the face for, but this just doesn’t happen. It’s always unrelated. Is this karma? Surely karma would know I didn’t mean to be a dick in the first place?
Sometimes people think I’m homeless. Someone threw me half an orange the other day and told me to ‘try and stay safe’. It’s comments like this that are the reason I will probably never do anything to avoid dying single and alone. Why come-on to a girl when everyone thinks you look homeless? I’m not. I’m the most homed I’ve been since I lived with my mam. I just don’t see the point in making an effort. And I like brown clothes too much. People tend to associate brown with poo and poo with dirt, but it’s a good colour. Just ask mustard. But my point is; If people I don’t know think I look homeless and that, then if I start talking to a girl I don’t know (remember what I’ve said about people who don’t know me) then she is just going to think I’m homeless too, no? So I make an effort to get to know them and let them get to know me first, just to assure them I am not just a scruffy, tattooed, toothless, homeless fool, but by the time I’ve done that it’s far too late and we will just be ‘good friends’ forever. Well done, me. You really know how to knock them home.
And my fucking tattoos. Don’t get me wrong, I have no regrets about them. I was sure of them at the time and they will always remind me of that part of my life and I love that. But they are a bit fucking shit though, eh? Christ, my mates girlfriend seen my leg the other day and just started laughing and going “Please tell me that’s not real!”. Well I gots news for you, Cordilia. this shit IS real. It’s shit, but it is real. I don’t like them but I don’t regret them. They’re in my bubble and I’m stuck in it, so don’t complain. Just be glad that you don’t have them and that you don’t have to sleep with the guy that does. You have to sleep with Wolf. And that is one son-of-a-bitch-cool surname.
I can’t even work out if I’m depressed or not any more. I am, but then I start to laugh at my own misery and it kind of cheers me up. I’m miserable and the only thing that keeps me going is how miserable I am. Weird, eh?
I only need 179 more words and that’s a thousand! I dropped out of uni because they wanted a thousand words off of me and I was like “Fuck that.”. turns out it’s a piece of fucking piss though! To be fair, they did want me to write about how awesome Citizen Kane is and how important it was to film, but let’s get that elephant out of the room now. It sucked balls. It’s a dreadful film. Granted, I haven’t seen it all the way through, but if you watch a three hour film eight times and can’t make it through the first forty minutes without falling asleep, then that is a pretty shit film. And ‘Rosebud’ is a shit name to give a sledge. And who the hell name’s their sledge? He was growing up during The Great Binge. Look it up. It’s a real thing where the world just went psycho for drugs. Cocaine was sold as a child’s pain-killer for tooth growth. It was illegal NOT to grow cannabis in America. Doctors would rub MDMA into an open wound to ‘ease the pain’ and this chump is running around like a fucking little girl, naming a fucking sledge fucking ‘Rosebud’? No. No thanks. That is a shit idea for a film. A Trip To The Moon was far better, and they didn’t even have talking.
1049 words and I didn’t need a student loan. And more people will probably read this.
1065 now. Cool.