FB / GF

Me and *** first came in touch with each other about a year ago....maybe more. We hit it off really well, you know how it is - when you first start you can't get enough of each other. I spent all my time thinking about ******. I was even checking ****** through my phone on the way home.....the 20 lost minutes between my work and my home computer was really stressing me.

Anyway, you know how these things go. Eventually, no matter how amazing it seemed at first, you start to notice the flaws, you start to look at the alternatives, see things in them you wish were in the one you have.

I mean there was no instant chat, like ***** (who I used to go with). Time dampens the flame of passion but if there's something inherently good then you stick with it.

I noticed that I was no longer checking my phone every 5 minutes, if woken suddenly and unexpectedly at 3am in the morning no longer would I have to reboot my computer to check to see if anything had changed. I could sleep. I had began to stop caring.

Of course I still spent time with ******. There were times when it was like when we first met.

Anyway, I write this basically to get a few things off my chest. I still love ******. It has so many things going for it (to think I used to go with Myspace - what was I thinking!), so I will stick with it for now.....

BUT IF I GET ONE MORE FUCKING APPLICATION REQUEST IT'S OVER.

No i don't want to be a zombie - grow the fuck up and stop bothering me.

No i don't want to rate you as a friend. You don't want to know what I really think of you and your "hilariously" ironic profile picture. I probably only added you because i wanted to see how pitiful your life has become.

So you sent me a beer did you? Well woopty fucking do! Can i drink it? No? So what the fuck is it for except to waste my cocking time and make me realise what a prick you are for never buying me a real one.

I obviously now expect all the people who read this, who are on facebook to bombard me with application requests.....well there's no point. You're not being funny. I thought of that jape first.

Anyway, that's cleared the air. I think maybe things will get better between me and FB from now....if not I reckon I've always got a chance with Bebo

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See what I did there! I wrote anthropomorphically about Facebook . I'm so hip to the cultural zeitgeist - What will I write about next? Maybe I'll say something even more up to date, original and topical like "Why I think the Iraq War was a bad thing" or "Let's make poverty history"

......actually I want to tackle that second one, next time.

Fever, in the morning, fever all through the night

Achoo,

Sniff, sniff, cough, scratch.

sniff.

My body thinks it's under attack. All these tree's and grasses have been jizzing their pollen into the air and for some stupid reason my body is responding to it by making me feel shit.

I grew up in the countryside for fucks sake, surely it should understand that it's just a bit of pollen. I've tried antihistamines, nasal sprays, eye drops, exorcism...nothings working.

The plants are basically forcing their unwanted sperm in my face and there's nothing I can do. I feel like I'm their bitch.

Cough, scratch, sniff, curse, punch own head.

Wimbleydone Tennish

I love tennis.

I should clarify. I love PLAYING tennis.

It's go just the right amount of hitting stuff without any of that running around. You get a rest every 10 seconds or so. Perfect.

Also it's got angles and shit. Being the son of an engineer, angles are in my genes. I can do angles.

I'd say that it was in my top 4 favourite sports, closely behind football, cricket and throwing bits of paper in a bin.

However, regarding watching a tennis match.....you would have to literally put drugs in my milk (ala BA Baracus in the A-team) to get me on that plane. I DON'T UNDERSTAND. WHERE'S THE ENJOYMENT!?

You see these middle class fools, waiting for days for the rain to stop, sitting on an uncomfortable plastic seat that's set them back £100 a day, regularly interrupted by Cliff Richard singing like some kind of discographic irritable bowel ("oh isn't it great of him cheering everyone up"-"NO, he's a shameless egotisist"), eating overpriced strawberries covered with clotted cow tit-sweat until finally the "covers are off" and we get 20 minutes of completely emotionless hitting back and forth of a ball.

There's no variation, no prolonged strategy, just mindless hitting back and forth, back and forth until one of them fucks up or hits something slightly better than the other. Then we start again.

Even worse...it's on my TV all the fucking time. I can understand it's popularity when McEnroe was playing...he got pissed off and shouted at posh people. It was funny but the "recent" stars..."TIGER" TIM HENMAN.

How exactly did Tim "Flannel" Henman deserve the name "Tiger". Did he turn up on centre court - his face covered in antelope blood, did he bite the heads off opponents and in between sets attempt to hump ballgirls....no.....he....just sometimes..........pumped his fist. Ooh, how very fucking "tigerish" of you. He wouldn't last a second in the jungle, he'd be buggered to Balmoral by Tigger (as in Winnie the Pooh) and Tony (as in Frosties).

Why do sportsmen and women have to be so bloody lobotomised! It's even starting to affect cricket, which has seemed to be immune and retained some characters (probably because...well....no one watches it).

Anyway, I digress. I think I was meant to be annoyed about tennis.

It's like Royal Ascot. It's pointless and it should be stopped.

GO ON MURRAY!

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ps....my favorite joke this week -

---What time does Andy Murray go to bed

--- Tennish

badoom-pah!

no?....well fuck off then.

Meh, pah, piffle and guffle

I haven't written anything in weeks.

Maybe the fad of writing a blog has faded. Maybe I've started to subconsciously acknowledge the futility and pointlessness of it. Maybe I've actually been doing work at work.

Actually it's more to do with me just forgetting and doing other things. I'm like that. I can't actually do something for a prolonged period of time without being incredible bored or distracted. I guess that's why I've never quite achieved a 6 pack, I've never had long hair, I never finish books or computer games (I'm currently simultaneously the football manager of Barnet, the Roman ruler of two thirds of Europe and a relatively unsuccessful Black gangster in the streets of San Andreas), I never finished that film I was pour hundreds of hours and thousands of pounds into......It's a good job for my woman this habit doesn't seem to translate to my bedroom technique....I can imagine the disappointment of the aforementioned woman, after 5 minutes of sweaty fumbles and amateurish thrusting, with me stopping with a tired...."Oh I can't be bothered anymore".

In fact it's probably the fault of the aforementioned woman that I haven't written anything. She's buggered off to France for the last month and so I have had way too much time (and other stuff) on my hands. For some reason that seems to have actually reduced the amount I've achieved. I've not written or recorded anything for weeks. I keep getting home from work and just sitting, eating and going to bed. This must be what it's like for normal people. No rushing home, attempting to record podcasts and songs, write radio plays and films and blogs before giving up at 3am every night having achieved less than Greece at Euro2008.

Oh yeah it could be that ; Euro 2008.

Isn't Gary Lineker a twat....and Alan Shearer the dullest, most un-insightful man on television. The phrase gravy train comes to mind. Hansen's is OK I guess (although I can't take anything he says seriously after those Morrisons adverts) but none of them even compare to the criminally underused Martin O'Neil.

Anyway, this post isn't really a proper post. Sorry. It's just to try and reinfect myself with the writing bug. I asked a friend what I should write about, he suggested talking about either Jelly, Big Brother or my "feelings".....thank god I never listen to him, eh?