Sobering Up & Cheering Up or; Cancer! Booze! Misery!


This is the first time I’ve woken up on a Saturday and not felt like shit in ages! It’s pretty cool. I decided not to drink for a while, but let me just explain now it has nothing to do with that marketing campaign that cancer charity has come up with. Stoptober or some shit. Anyway, don’t buy into that. It’s a multi-billion pound industry that has absolutely no plans on curing cancer. If they did they would have done some research into some of the things that are actually very successful at curing cancer and stick with that, not fuck around with pointless new technologies that have minimal success rates.

Anyway! With my new sober time I think I’m going to go try and be more “creative”, write this blog more, etc. Only for a while though. I think soon this blog might become a platform where I have a public breakdown and moan about my life and my feelings, so if that does happen again I’d like to apologise in advance.

But! Maybe I wont because I’ve stopped drinking! And that means I wont be half-drunk and moping around, feeling sorry for myself and having little cries. Nope! I didn’t think of that. And also, I will get myself into less situations where I wind up damaged, and example of that being this post. Oh! and I fell down the stairs that one time and fucked myself up. If you don’t know about that you can read about it here. I think that’s my worst drinking accident story. just because I pulled the tooth out myself, instantly making me very unattractive to the opposite sex. Not the same sex, though. Guys still dig me. But I’m not gay so it’s no good. I’ll just live a sex-less existence where I masturbate over photos of ex-girlfriends, wishing I was gay for cock. That was a joke. I don’t have enough ex-girlfriends to warrant that worthwhile. I think I have maybe three people who I could call ex-girlfriends but only two of them would actually admit to being my girlfriend at the time.

Excellent. I’ve brought myself down again now. I was perfectly happy when this started writing about how some charities are nothing but money-pinching scum companies who don’t want cancer to be cured, and now I’ve come to realise the screaming reality of how I am going to die old and alone. Or maybe young and alone. Either way, it will be sad and my rotted corpse will probably not be found for months because no-one would have noticed I had disappeared.

But I am moving to Canada next year, so that’s kinda cool.

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