An Ode to Tiresias

Originally scribed 12.10.09

"I know what we can go as...
We can dress all in black
and tie a shot glass around necks
and go as a 'shot in the dark."

I grew up as a real boy.
In a real town with its own, often real, sometimes surreal, problems.
I lived the 'Hicksville-meets-dystopian-vision' town.
I am the embodiement.
As are all of their own home towns.
But the comparative success story.
I dream of 'big disused towers, cranes and the coincidence [and beauty] of grey clouds in the distance'.
I dream of the Middle Classes, too.
And their 'Room Of One's Own' belief that any room plus a laptop makes their eyes wider and their brains engaged.

The privilege of an unprivilege life is that you see the wonder in everything.

An Ode to Taylor

PWNED!!

PWNED!!!



















PWNEDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Royally.






I don't know who she is or what she's done,
but bitch got owned last night.
And what telly gold it made for.

Don't cry Taylor.
Not only did Kanye West hijack your acceptance speech,
but you got the Beyonce "Light-Shines-Out-Of-My-Booty" Knowles
Seal Of Approval.



THINK OF THE ITUNES DOWNLOADS.



When Kanye jumped up and said what he said...
a part of me cheered.
Until i remembered i had a heart.

It's like that feeling on Deal or No Deal,
when they've went all the way to the end
and you see the £500 in their box.
And you applaud
and laugh
at
this poor, pathetic human.
(The one that's NOT Noel Edmonds)

And then the guilt seeps in:
"oh, that could have been me"
"ohh, but her sob story"
"ohhh, look how they all feel really bad for her"


But i'll never be Taylor Swift.
I've never heard her sob story.
And i'm pretty sure that SOME of the audience cheered...





Don't cry Taylor...
It could have been worse...


No charisma
is better than Lost charisma.
(Russel Brand)


And no charisma
is better than
LessThanNo Charisma
(The Twilight Zombies)










In other news...
i can sexually link myself to myself using six steps.
Possibly.
And if the news is true
(i await a text back to find out whether it is)
i refuse to kiss another man, woman or gaga for the rest of my time in Newcastle.

Further than Newcastle, actually.


Anywhere North of Leicester...

These are sad times in which we live.

IN OTHER NEWS,
this means that i can trace SIX WHOLE PEOPLE back to their selves through a series of
"Sucked off"s
and
"Had sex with"s
and
"Was in love with"s
and
(to be safe)
"Kissed"s.

Aren't I wonderfully bored?
For a moment, there...
i thought i had a seventh...
alas...
not.

An Ode to Hate

A regular feature:

When writing an essay, it is advised that you refrain from talking in the first person where possible. It makes for clumsy reading and may undermine the point you are trying to make. When writing an article, it is adviseble that you talk in the first person when needed, but without coming across as self-centred. When you're a voiceover character on a Cable television show, the more you talk about yourself, the better. The more you talk about what you had for breakfast; where you were on a particular day; who you particularly fucked; empowers you. And draws away from the fact that you are a total cock.

Ladies and gays.

She is clingy. Needy. Self-obsessed.
And a cheat.
People always forget that.
Carrie Bradshaw.




So here is one of my favourite 'I FUCKING HATE YOU' moments:

1. The one where she turns up in 'le' beret and a cringe-fest ensues.

Thinking she's 'le' hillarious,
bitch bounces in like a total 'le' douche-bag, thinking she's Queen of 'le' world,
and throws a perfectly good big mac at 'le' Big. BigMac fans of the world unite in my hate.
He should have cut her out of his life whilst he still had the chance. Aggressive behaviour from a partner should never be tolerated.
She chucked a big mac.
She should of been chucked for 'le' good.

Notice how annoying my use of 'Le' is.
Now imagine a Bitch in a red dress and a beret.

Put the two together.
Welcome to Discomfort.

"If things get real bad i'll move to Paris and write Le Sex and Le City."
Things were real bad, gal.

See?

An Ode to Woolf, Hermes and PDSA

Look at the below shoes. Take the wings off, they'd be perfect.
They are perfect. I have seen them wingless.
Wings on, they look like a ty-beanie-baby/ugg-boot cross-breed.
Stay well clear of Winged Shoes.
Even if the Stymester is wearing them.

I'll never forget him/ the leader of the pack

Clarissa Dalloway is my role model, for she is a whizz around London and good at getting-things-done. Read Mrs Dalloway. Virginia Woolf. It won't take you long.

Rule number 1:
if you spend £120 in Charity Shops over three days, you are allowed to write about it. More on this later. I await my sister's return from her friend's house to play Moss and Bailey and go overboard with the Digicam.