PS

CAN'T BELIEVE i didn't mention Mel Gibson's dad calling the Pope a 'Slippery Gay'!!!
yeah, thanks dad, my career will definitely get aboost from that! so funny coffee came out of my nose reading the Metro today!!

rock n' rolls of flab

yo yo,

I'm back after my moderatly nihilistic blog from monday (sorry about that-uh oh)

Was reading an article in 'stylist' or whatever the other free magazine is,do you get them in london? i don't know, the 2 free magazines every weds? you get em at the train station? they're pretty good. Oh, Shortlist, that's the one for men, stylist for ladies-gotta keep em separate.

anyway, i was reading this article about the old thing of '27' being the age that all great rock stars die. Perhaps reading it with more interest than usual, as it is such an old hat theory, as i, some of you may know, am 27 years old. WELll apparently there's actually this scientific evidence now that something happens in your brain when you are between 25-27, the final stage of nerve thickening or something, so you are likely to be really mental at this time, then if you take upper or downer substances while your nerves are undergoing this change,you basically go totally mental compared to normal-hence, shit hangovers, sudden depression, masses of booze/drug guzzling, inability to control your behaviour(i am not talking about me, i'm talking in general, okay) SOO anyway, this is the discovery that late 20's is a time for a massive life crisis, and I must say, practically everyone I know has had one or is on the verge of it (i'm talking to you) and it's when everyone really questions their life for the first time, the realisation of which may well turn you to more drugs and booze (again, i am talking generally and anyone who says i am not is a bloody liar!)

SO, all the excuses i've been waiting for lie in science, finally! I must say that 25 was definitely the first birthday I had where i felt actually different, immediately, like i had finished teetering on the peak of the hill and now i was on the descent! We went to 'feeling gloomy' a club in london that only plays gloomy music and i made some bizarrely doom-laden requests until chloe levered me home with a fixed but terrified grin (and an extension cable that we'd found on the floor i seem to remember!)
So, I'm hoping that I make it through 27, got about 6 weeks to go, I am, of course, as you all know, very Rock Star, so as you'll imagine, I am pretty worried...
yup...i've led the rock n' roll life alright...i've kissed red square...i've smoked a cigarette with a russian soldier with a machine gun on an overnight sleeper (and then been sick), i've swam in the mediterranean at dawn...i've been to an illegal underground jazz club in amsterdam, yeah! skibedibaa! i've had a fight in Paris then leapt into a taxi and said 'DRIVE'! I've fallen asleep while cycling...(does that count?) I've run away from the Albanian mafia(kind of), I've gone 3 days without sleep, I've taken LOADS of valium (that is rock n' roll), I've climbed a roof in the rain wearing stilettos, i've gone to the beach in Italy at 6.am with nothing but a bottle of limoncello, Olivia, and my pyjamas and sat half a mmile out to sea on a precarious wooden walkway, come on, i was at Knebworth in 1996! I was only 13! give me that at leat, that's seminal! and i was at Glastonbury when it was good, 1998-2004when the tickets still came from HMV and you didn't need a passport to walk around there!!

no, it's true, I have no tattoos, i hate drugs, if i drink a pint now i have a pint's worth of hangover. I'm definitely in mourning for my carefree days of all night fun and crazy people and weird booze and nothing to do except sleep it off... despite all the moderately shit reasons i give here, i actually think i have had quite a wild youth...
no far-reached or prolonged travelling, which is sad, and which is what everyone always says is the best thing, but then, there's been no money, and youth-travellers normally have the good fortune to have rich parents/rich&dead grandparents so that wasn't my avenue.
yup, tell you what though, being older is great because you don't have to do all that wild stuff anymore and no one will judge you for it, also, i think lots of it wasn't as fun as I remember...? What it is is that at this age I KNOW what I enjoy, and my brain tells me to do that more, rather than not really knowing and going with instinct, experience teaches you what kind of nights out or activities are going to be shit or tedious and you have the nouse to avoid them, now that is nice. Also the number 1 thing that you learn is how to enjoy yourself when you're alone. Coming from my big family I found that the hardest for years and years.

sooooooooooooo
better get back yto work, got a 28+38 article search to do, 66 that is, is it? yes, that.

Bunny update: marie has developed a bizarre hump of hair so she looks like a mental hunchback, frida still has dreadlocks. One/ both of them is/are doing mental poo which i need to clear up before simon clocks it, haven't managed it so far, he has bat ears when it comes to the sound of poo being cleared up.
I need to catch them tomorrow to take them to cambridge for the weekend, not looking forward to it! it makes them fear me!!

brace yourself

I'm feeling depressed!
The funny thing (although probably the only one) about having depression is that you can feel it coming on, like a cold. I have that at the moment.
You use up a lot of concentration trying hard to stop it getting hold of you when the creeping itch begins.
Albert Camus, who is one of my biggest heroes, said something like 'it's amazing how much energy some people expend every day just to be normal' i often think about this, although i think it applies to almost everyone except for a few very well balanced people. But then again, he also said 'every man is responsible for his own face' as well so you can choose to ignore his 'wisdom' if you like!

The double fold problem with depression is that there is so much properly awful shit going on all over the place that you feel guilty for being depressed as well.
I went out for a heavy rampage at the weekend with my friend lightning who I haven't seen in 3 1/2 years and i always know before hand that alcohol makes me really depressed but it's so good at allaying my constant anxiety jitters that once i pop i really can't stop. Now i have all sorts of guilt, booze guilt, knackered body, wasted most of sunday, came home very late and worried simon...oh dear. I am a bad person, that is the conclusion that i have had to come to.

What makes you a bad person anyway? Is everything that we do to do with our circumstances? I dunno, I feel like a bad person so maybe that means that I am one? after all, when we do nice things, do they come totally naturally, or because we want people to like us? I like making people happy but is thta just because i want them to appreciate me? i don't know i can't work out how much of anything is natural today. I do a lot of stuff for people but that's because i am propelled by an inborn state of utter anxiety, i mean, that doesn't make me nice does it?

Bloody hell i don't know. I think i need a long chat and a good cry, then i'll be okay.
it's funny churchill coined the phrase 'black dog' for depression, i think of it more like a blanket, because there is an element of comfort in it. A lot of people say that you mourn for your actual depresson as it leaves because it becomes such a way of life for you that it's less scary that facing the real world without it, you know like how people over-complicate their lives because accepting that their life is just how it is is just too fucking scary.
I certainly can't imagine that mine will ever go away, it's been with me so long, it's part of me, it's like a whole other set of organs and brain cells which fight with the healthy parts and it'a addictive, a tiny seed appears for no reason, or cause someone says something to you that's a bit close to the bone, or you see an old photo, or hear about someone you used to know and then you use all the strength of your thoiughts concentrating on this seed of insecurity and misery and BOOM it grows into a massive plant that pushes on the edges of your head and in your lungs and stomach and suddenly moving about and doing things and talkig to people becomes much, much harder, and your own brain and body weighs you down and tells you to give up. and that's that.

anyway. that's me for today.

'dem bones

ok i need to talk about something, smoething which has gone unmentioned for too long but which has distracted me for a year in that way that things do when you notice them with that part of your brain that doesn't simultaneously register them?
You know like when you watch an advert, you might have seen it 100 times but only on the 101st time will you actually watch it and realise what it's for/about, then it takes on a new meaning?
well this problem of mine is CHICKEN BONES.
I am constantly distracted by chicken bones.
There are chicken bones EVERYWHERE. Has anyone else noticed this?
I have been absorbing the fact that their are chicken bones everywhere for so long that I don't know how long it is. Only recently when I was in a slightly differening state from usual-can't remember if i was very tired or a bit hungover or spaced out from weird medicine- but I caught sight of a chicken bone on the floor on the corner of the road near my house, and for the first time i thought to myself 'yuck, a BONE. why am i not more disgusted? oh yes, it's because i see them everywhere.'
and now when i see chicken bones i actually see them and think 'rank'.

Now is this weird? that i find the haphazard presence of BONES casually tossed aside throughout town so totally and utterly vile?
There's something so unsettling and revolting about it that it's starting to really creep me out. The fact that I am walking around, with the general publicc, in society, ina a 'civilized' society and at any given moment I may slip on a BONE, on a rotting bit of carcas, with human teeth marks dragged through the remnants of old flesh?! This isn't something that I signed up for when I decided to live in the world rather than outside it feral, this activity of stripping the animal meat from bones and then flinging them over your shoulder seems remarkably out of place, in fact, in the world of packaged, consumerist meat that we live in, and frankly you can't have your fucking battery chicken and eat it too is what i say!

Either rush into the countryside and throttle a chicken, strip it(s feathers) and eat it, thus reducing all the terrible mass farming and transportation and pretence about meat that is ruining the world, THEN fling the bones over your shoulder with satisfaction at a job well done, OR meekly eat your disgusting water-injected battery-farmed Vietnamese chicken from 'yankee fried chick balls' or wherever you favour, put them neatly back into their oily box(which are also quite widely scattered but remain less offensive) and place then in a waste recepticle thus sparing me the act of tiptoeing around your old sucked bones, you have FOREFITTED the right to growl like a caveman and litter the streets with them!

There's just something so symbolic of the whole world not giving a shit about anything anymore about the bones of a small animal with varying amounts of flesh knawed from them, dropped in the street.
Then again, you may not see it like this. I appreciate that I am prone to the dramatic (although believe me, i genuinely don't think i am being dramatic)!

On a chicken bone-aside, there's an episode of 'snog, marry, avoid' with a gothy boy who buys fried chicken every day, eats it, then boils the bones to make into jewelry.
This is more offensive to me. It's so embarrassing!
You know how you look back at things you did and wore when you were younger and you're all embarrassed? imagine that poor bastard?! he was on TELLY defending it too!


Went to a talk at the Hepworth last night, the new art gallery in Wakey, like the wakey version of the Tate, was good, although uncomfortably hot, and there was some debate at the end whether it's a good or bad thing to build a fuck-off huge gallery in quite a deprived area, especially one where there are amazing old mill buildings and stuff, one woman in particular was quite angry about it. I think it's a shame that people can't listen without reacting so suddenly and I felt uncomfortable that the room was 'ganging up' on this woman, she wasn't making her point well, and was certainly talking slightly too aggressively, however, when the reaction is quite childish it simply makes the listeners look like they won't hear anything negative or critical which is mega lame.
It's sad that they can't utilise the old buildings, they are very beautiful, however to go over the top about the good old days is very dangerous, and it's important to remember that they weren't good for everyone, and the things that were worse were probably MUCH worse so it's important to think about how thigs will benefit people living in wakey NOW people who need the money to come in here NOW, and i hope the hepworth will bring some of that, however sad it is that it takes that to make people care about wakey, sometimes it just is. Also, it's all very well harping on about wakey's untouched charm but would i walk around the canal area alone in the evening? no is the answer to that, so of course it would be good if it became an area that was more used in a positive way, and the hepworth should bring that if nothing else.

SO, that's me crew.
have a sweet weekend, i intend to.
mmwwwwaaaahh!(that's mwah like a kiss not mwah like mwaaahh hahaha, actually, i like the second one more, make it that one.)

covert

hello all, i am writing to you 'undercover' from the other library where i have once again been summoned in order to do menial jobs such as folding leaflets...
i am currently entering names into a list like a trained monkey, i hope the change in typing noises won't summon one of my colleagues and provoke another task such as cleaning the skirting or checking the books to see if any words are missing from them...I'm like an alert nighttime creature at the moment, poised and with alternative screen ready to be flipped up over my true crime!

getting up is becoming harder and harder and i actually feel genuine anger towards people going abroad such is my resentment toward them.

I was very tempted to head off to the big chill with liv this weekend but it's the same price as a holiday so i can't pay for it. i do miss festivals a bit, but then, as we all know, i am very partial to a bender...

that reminds me, joe peacock if you're reading this, you're on my shitlist by the way.

nice to see the coalition government have got rid of the british film council,
and they're planning on getting rid of free museums, one of the single greatest things about this country,god the lib dems are starting to look sick, what a bunch of snivelling creeps. Plus cameron is marching about cussing Pakistan, the country who lose the most lives through terrorism and who have just been hit by devastating floods. What a fucking prick.


anyway. i'm hungry but i don't know what for. I am being very greedy these days, i want some hot weather so i can eat salad and run around, this is ridiculous frankly. i put all my coats and stuff away (well, rolled them in a ball and pushed them into a compact shape on top of the wardrobe) now they're all out again. rarara the weather rarara aren't i interesting?

Going to the Hepworth later as I have heard it is a beauty and I want to check it out.
Called the West Yorks medical appointment number yesterday as the minimum time for my throat nodules appt has long since lapsed, they informed me that i had been discharged on the grounds that i had missed two appointments, i was utterly gobsmacked by this, after lots of wrangling and a new appointment being made it turned out from my scrutiny that they had veen sending things to ROse Harries, st john's mews, so basically to my name and my ROAD but not flat number, so all my personal details are drifing about somewhere and meanwhile i have waited 2 extra months for an app which would not have happened if i hadn't tracked them down.
bloody bastards.NOT bastards.bastards.

well, better go, my key tapping is so clearly not data entry i am sure i'll be razzed soon.....

reckon the book's hotting up, who knows, i may make a living from my drawing, if my drawing had doesn't shrivel up more than it is already...

laters potaters!

not much

I just found a book on the shelves called 'helping survivors of satanic abuse' -!

for a library with so few books that seems a little specific doesn't it?
maybe not? i dunno! there's also a book on eugenics, when i saw it my blood turned cold, but it counts as historical so i am assured that i must leave it where it is...

just saw one of the consultants sitting at his desk for a lunch of smoked salmon, you couldn't make it up could you?!

anyway, little to report once again as i have left it too late and don't want to stay at work past finish just to write a blog, then my blog is a job and i don't want more job.
Simon's birthday at the end of august, i don't know what to get him, he has written about 10 wish lists on amazon and keeps returning to them to alter them, simon loves his birthday and he loves presents, i'm not used to that sort of upbeat attitude, we used to hide from my dad on his birthday, i thought all men were like that..?

the bunnies still hate me, they've started pissing all over the rug in protest against me, it's starting to piss me right off!! how would they like it if i pissed in their plastic house? yeah? well they can't piss in my plastic house then.

well, like i said not much to report, someone is coughing down the corridor and shouting 'COUGH!' every time they do.once again i am already worried about money and it is the 3rd of august. why do i do it to myself? why did i spend a million pound on the first weekend of payday?
oh well, toodlepip, i am aware that the blog is shit at the mo. i will remedy this by writing it earlier in the day and not when i am desperate to leave work :)

tired all over

ey up buddies, back from the castle, totally knackered, we crammed so much into 2 days it was insane, all froclicks and fun! went out on fri dancing the night away, after a long, long period on the quizzy playing beat the landlord, that bloody landlord, he always got the better of us... THEN to this brill club in the castle which is a combination of sweet music and a love of david attenborough and darwin, what could be better?!
sat there was lots of watching kath and kim followed by a quick soiree over to a very lovely little wedding, including legomen on the cake, then off to see richard Herring followed by dinner and a swift passing out with tiredness as soon as we entered the house.
Liv's house is a sprawling mansion which her and her flatmate live in a wing of, the crazy millionaire with loads of classic cars that he tinkers with all day and a boat that he never takes to the sea, it's the kind of place someone would live in a novel but never really does, but liv really does! There's a 12 seater dining table and the most beautiful kitchen ever seen hawaaaaaayyyythe lads!(i'm a geordie diventcha naa?)

sunday we went to the beach and walked along in the rain, very british summertime, creepily hot but soaking, anyway, was a lovely weekend but i suffer for it now with creaky eyes.
Simon had turned into the ideal househusband when i returned and having never tidied for a year was cleaning all over the place and berating my careless messiness! it was great! The bunnies are still acting weird, i think they may be suffering from hair ingestion but i don't know what to do as they hate me now from picking them up...hmmmm bunnies, no one ever said it'd be this hard....

summer is ticking on apace and no hot weather. 3 weeks till my holiday to dorset cannae wait, christ i'm tired, laters foos