Monday, 16 February 2009
The double whammy!
Sorry for being absolutely shocking with this blog. But thank you for your patience if you have been regularly checking. The past 3 weeks have been rather hectic what with social occasions, work and enduring a couple of choice kicks to the head from some psychotic fuckbag (which I will be blogging about very soon). For the time being here are two newbies for you to sink your blood thirsty dentures into. Also in the next couple of weeks my good friend David Palmieri will be pitching in with some guest blogs so keep checking the site. So enjoy and thanks for visiting.
Getting Old, Kicking and Screaming
What an odd situation I've found myself in today. I spoke to a close friend earlier today who, along with a group of my other friends, were still out from last night. This was around 3PM so when i returned home from work at 5.30 I gave a couple of the other guys a call and there phones were off. The strangest sensation came over me, I actually started to get worried! I eventually managed to get hold of one of them and they were fine (except one who is still MIA but apparently being 'looked after') Why was I worried?I'm not there Mum! I've done the same thing with the same group of guys countless times before. And all of a sudden my worst fears are coming into question. Something I've been starting to think for some time now but really didn't want to think about. Am I getting old?
It all started when I started working a dead end 9to5 job. Suddenly I was getting tetchy about people playing music after midnight and slamming doors if I had to work the next day. I put this down to the fact that I love sleep possibly more then anyone has ever loved. If i could I'd marry it and move to a great open plain where the only sound is the sound of my light breathing as i sink into the beautiful arms of slumber. Then i felt myself getting horrifically froogle with my money, to the point where I'd get rather indignant with the lady on the till at subway if she charged me full price for a 'sub of the day'. I put this down to being my fathers son. He would be unbelievably proud me for this slightly irrational irk. Then all of a sudden I'm getting worried about my idiot friends!
Its not just socially either. I find myself really struggling to get in to new music. Back when I was18 we had a terrific year for music with the likes of The Killers, Kasabian, Franz Ferdinand, Bloc Party and the world conquering Goldie Lookin' Chain emerging. We were the trend setters! Now I don't know what I'm supposed to be listening, get a little frustrated, and resort back to old Weezer albums. When I heard the rumour that Green Day, Blink 182 and the aforementioned Weezer were going to play one of the days at Reading I almost jizzed with excitement. 'Yay I can be 16 again!' Since I've left university it appears I've lost all touch, something I really didn't think would happen.
I have spent way to much of my spare time recently talking about this fucking credit crunch. I was talking to someone still at uni who said she felt a little bad because she didn't know what all the fuss was about, so I spent 15 minutes boring the poor girl to tears talking about the tricky situation I knew other people were in. I'd only just met her! what a prick! She's older then me, doing medicine, and here I am try to be intellectually superior by talking about cunting finance.
There are hundreds of other little things which are making me feel old (the cold does make my knee go stiff which is just plain wrong) and I've got to be honest its depressing the hell out of me. I'm not sure about anyone else but in the back of my head I'm thinking 22 is the beginning of the end. Its ll down hill from here. Essentially its bollocks and I thinks its just a result of being scared of the future. I do take comfort, however, how young I feel compared to other people in there early 20's.
Not one but two of my ex girlfriends from when I was much younger are now married. It-is-fucking-insane. I'm sure they were ready and I hope they're going to be very happy but just the thought of getting married makes me want to hurl myself into the Avon river and swim to Mexico. Marriage is one thing but people I went to school with are now having kids. KIDS! Now this really is scary because, and i know its an old cliche, but i really can't look after myself let alone a kid. For example so far this evening I have drunk a litre and a half of chocolate milk, had chicken dippers and waffles for dinner and smoke enough to make Keith Richards proud. Instead of getting changed into casual clothes i simply took off my work clothes and put on my dressing gown (that was at 5.30) and tomorrow night will be a shamefully similar story. Me with a kid? the poor little bastard would almost certainly grow up to be either a horrible slob or a serial killer.
And I still go out and do ridiculous things, which brings me to the reason why today of all days I'm all of a sudden rather terrified of the 'o' word. Whats unbelievably stupid is, with this exact same group of guys last weekend, I went on a three day bender which involved some incidents which I'm to ashamed to admit on such a public forum. I've started to think that these stunts we pull may just be a way of staving off this inevitable sharp descent into being boring an old. But at least we're getting old kicking and screaming and not submitting to its evil claws.
Make that 2 lires of Chocolate Milk. I am on fire!!!
It all started when I started working a dead end 9to5 job. Suddenly I was getting tetchy about people playing music after midnight and slamming doors if I had to work the next day. I put this down to the fact that I love sleep possibly more then anyone has ever loved. If i could I'd marry it and move to a great open plain where the only sound is the sound of my light breathing as i sink into the beautiful arms of slumber. Then i felt myself getting horrifically froogle with my money, to the point where I'd get rather indignant with the lady on the till at subway if she charged me full price for a 'sub of the day'. I put this down to being my fathers son. He would be unbelievably proud me for this slightly irrational irk. Then all of a sudden I'm getting worried about my idiot friends!
Its not just socially either. I find myself really struggling to get in to new music. Back when I was18 we had a terrific year for music with the likes of The Killers, Kasabian, Franz Ferdinand, Bloc Party and the world conquering Goldie Lookin' Chain emerging. We were the trend setters! Now I don't know what I'm supposed to be listening, get a little frustrated, and resort back to old Weezer albums. When I heard the rumour that Green Day, Blink 182 and the aforementioned Weezer were going to play one of the days at Reading I almost jizzed with excitement. 'Yay I can be 16 again!' Since I've left university it appears I've lost all touch, something I really didn't think would happen.
I have spent way to much of my spare time recently talking about this fucking credit crunch. I was talking to someone still at uni who said she felt a little bad because she didn't know what all the fuss was about, so I spent 15 minutes boring the poor girl to tears talking about the tricky situation I knew other people were in. I'd only just met her! what a prick! She's older then me, doing medicine, and here I am try to be intellectually superior by talking about cunting finance.
There are hundreds of other little things which are making me feel old (the cold does make my knee go stiff which is just plain wrong) and I've got to be honest its depressing the hell out of me. I'm not sure about anyone else but in the back of my head I'm thinking 22 is the beginning of the end. Its ll down hill from here. Essentially its bollocks and I thinks its just a result of being scared of the future. I do take comfort, however, how young I feel compared to other people in there early 20's.
Not one but two of my ex girlfriends from when I was much younger are now married. It-is-fucking-insane. I'm sure they were ready and I hope they're going to be very happy but just the thought of getting married makes me want to hurl myself into the Avon river and swim to Mexico. Marriage is one thing but people I went to school with are now having kids. KIDS! Now this really is scary because, and i know its an old cliche, but i really can't look after myself let alone a kid. For example so far this evening I have drunk a litre and a half of chocolate milk, had chicken dippers and waffles for dinner and smoke enough to make Keith Richards proud. Instead of getting changed into casual clothes i simply took off my work clothes and put on my dressing gown (that was at 5.30) and tomorrow night will be a shamefully similar story. Me with a kid? the poor little bastard would almost certainly grow up to be either a horrible slob or a serial killer.
And I still go out and do ridiculous things, which brings me to the reason why today of all days I'm all of a sudden rather terrified of the 'o' word. Whats unbelievably stupid is, with this exact same group of guys last weekend, I went on a three day bender which involved some incidents which I'm to ashamed to admit on such a public forum. I've started to think that these stunts we pull may just be a way of staving off this inevitable sharp descent into being boring an old. But at least we're getting old kicking and screaming and not submitting to its evil claws.
Make that 2 lires of Chocolate Milk. I am on fire!!!
A Question Of Sport
Imagine the scenario as a guy. You're out with your significant other and you're dragged along for a drink with another couple you've never met. As soon as you walk into the pub the girls are off. Its been a couple of months and they need to catch up on who's dating, who's fat, who terminated a pregnancy after finding out the father was in fact gay and had run off with someone who is a back-up dancer for Girls Aloud and other such stereotypical lady gossip. Unfortunately your imaginations been fried by the sordid video your friend e mailed to you earlier in the day so, in an attempt to ease the boredom, you try to talk to the other guy. 'So... Did you watch the game last night?' You wait with bated breath for the answer. It doesn't matter which game you're referring to. as long as he says 'yes' you know you've got at least half an hour of evening saving material stored up. This is it. Make or break time. Your mouth goes dry you start to shake. 'Nah I'm not really into sport.' That's it, night over you might as well be drinking alone, thinking how drunk you'd have to get your partner for her to do what you saw in that video. A nightmare scenario or what?
Now don't get me wrong I'm not some jock asshole who thinks any man who doesn't live and breath sport is a little pussy who deserves to be put in an abandon warehouse whilst the entire New Zealand rugby team hunt them down with tazers. A lot of my friends have no more interest in sport then Pete Docherty has with a cup of tea and a good night sleep. But when it comes to first meeting another guy in a situation when you have to talk to them the sport conversation is like a get out of jail free card. You really don't want to risk the double role otherwise it becomes less and less fun.
What i mean by my superb monopoly analogies is your next port of conversation if the dreaded 'I'm not in to sport' comes out. the subjects become more risky to discuss. Sport is sport. There are no different genres, sub genres and movements in sport. you don't have ska darts against grime darts its just darts. Music is the most natural thing to resort to, and its a tricky one. what if you literally despise his taste and have no interest in discussing different scratching techniques or guitar licks by bands you think disgrace the speakers they pump out of. Your fucked again! And you will naturally resort to judging him for being either overly pretentious or horrendously mis-informed. Time for another role.
Film and TV runs the same risks. As a horrible little film snob i try and avoid this because if that's the first proper conversation that i have with someone they will end up hating me. comedies a good shout but what if their idea of humour is a Mr Bean marathon followed by anything with Eddy Murphy in a fucking fat suite. Go back to thinking about that night you microwaved that cuddly toy. Better times.
Finally there's the most risky one. Politics. Best case scenario you agree on a couple of things and can have a relatively chilled debate about other things, which kills some time. Bad scenario he doesn't know much about politics and your back to square one. Worst case scenario it turns out the boy is the reincarnation of Hitler, says he moved away from London because there were far to many ethnics and guffaws about the night his mate Jeff slapped a black toilet attendant because he sprayed YSL on his wrist instead of John Paul Gaultier. At which point you run off to the toilet to throw up and try and wash the hatred of your hands and face.
Sport is just easier. a stepping stone if you will. If it turns out the stranger is big in to his rugby great! for me the girls can spend all night catching up I'm sorted. from rugby you can talk about Cipriani, whose dating Kelly Brooke who was married to Jason Statham. there you go you've eased into movies. See how this can work?
Many of my friends feel the same. One of them, in avid Middlesborough fan for reasons only he knows, sort out a group of guys, one of whom was in a Boro shirt, at Glastonbury! he then didn't want to leave because he'd finally found some inbred little bottom feeders just like him. another of my mates was telling me about the time he was at Global Gathering and ended up just chatting to some random in the bar about League One for 4 hours whilst gurning his motherloving tits off. bearing in mind the festival is less then 24 hours long that's pretty good going. A new colleague started at my work the other day. He saw me looking a the transfer deadline day news on BBC, asked me who'd gone where and there you go we were friends.
To those of you who don't like sport i have an idea. If you know a night like i described in the first paragraph is coming out just watch a game, any game, before it happens. Just to make sure there is a way to break the ice.
Now don't get me wrong I'm not some jock asshole who thinks any man who doesn't live and breath sport is a little pussy who deserves to be put in an abandon warehouse whilst the entire New Zealand rugby team hunt them down with tazers. A lot of my friends have no more interest in sport then Pete Docherty has with a cup of tea and a good night sleep. But when it comes to first meeting another guy in a situation when you have to talk to them the sport conversation is like a get out of jail free card. You really don't want to risk the double role otherwise it becomes less and less fun.
What i mean by my superb monopoly analogies is your next port of conversation if the dreaded 'I'm not in to sport' comes out. the subjects become more risky to discuss. Sport is sport. There are no different genres, sub genres and movements in sport. you don't have ska darts against grime darts its just darts. Music is the most natural thing to resort to, and its a tricky one. what if you literally despise his taste and have no interest in discussing different scratching techniques or guitar licks by bands you think disgrace the speakers they pump out of. Your fucked again! And you will naturally resort to judging him for being either overly pretentious or horrendously mis-informed. Time for another role.
Film and TV runs the same risks. As a horrible little film snob i try and avoid this because if that's the first proper conversation that i have with someone they will end up hating me. comedies a good shout but what if their idea of humour is a Mr Bean marathon followed by anything with Eddy Murphy in a fucking fat suite. Go back to thinking about that night you microwaved that cuddly toy. Better times.
Finally there's the most risky one. Politics. Best case scenario you agree on a couple of things and can have a relatively chilled debate about other things, which kills some time. Bad scenario he doesn't know much about politics and your back to square one. Worst case scenario it turns out the boy is the reincarnation of Hitler, says he moved away from London because there were far to many ethnics and guffaws about the night his mate Jeff slapped a black toilet attendant because he sprayed YSL on his wrist instead of John Paul Gaultier. At which point you run off to the toilet to throw up and try and wash the hatred of your hands and face.
Sport is just easier. a stepping stone if you will. If it turns out the stranger is big in to his rugby great! for me the girls can spend all night catching up I'm sorted. from rugby you can talk about Cipriani, whose dating Kelly Brooke who was married to Jason Statham. there you go you've eased into movies. See how this can work?
Many of my friends feel the same. One of them, in avid Middlesborough fan for reasons only he knows, sort out a group of guys, one of whom was in a Boro shirt, at Glastonbury! he then didn't want to leave because he'd finally found some inbred little bottom feeders just like him. another of my mates was telling me about the time he was at Global Gathering and ended up just chatting to some random in the bar about League One for 4 hours whilst gurning his motherloving tits off. bearing in mind the festival is less then 24 hours long that's pretty good going. A new colleague started at my work the other day. He saw me looking a the transfer deadline day news on BBC, asked me who'd gone where and there you go we were friends.
To those of you who don't like sport i have an idea. If you know a night like i described in the first paragraph is coming out just watch a game, any game, before it happens. Just to make sure there is a way to break the ice.
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