Always Have An Excuse Handy In Your Back Pocket...

Over the course of our lives, there tends to be no shortage of people willing to lend you a piece of advice, asked for or not. Sometimes these nuggets of wisdom prove to be invaluable, and you suddenly seem compelled to repay this person in kind.

Unfortunately, with a head full of nonsense such as mine, the repayment tends be along the lines of ‘bananas are an excellent source of potassium’. Whilst true, this doesn’t stop them tasting any less disgusting, nor does it disguise the fact of how phallic said fruit is.

Other advice ends up considerably less useful in practice. For instance, putting important things ‘somewhere safe’, so that they don’t get lost, and you can easily find them when you need them.

Now let’s get one thing straight about me before going on with this, because it’s quite important. I have problems with absentmindedness/my short term memory. I’m incredibly forgetful about certain things, you can tell me something and it’ll be forgotten within moments, but with others, it just sticks. Like movie quotes. I have so many quotes up there, I think I’m gonna need a bigger skull.

My point is, the mixture of forgetfulness and tucking things away in safe places, means a lot of stuff gets lost. If it’s not staring at me straight in the face constantly, it will get forgotten about. Until I need it again, at which point my facial expression turns into some morbid parody of a distressed human being.

I once lost my USB stick for 3 months because I put it in the inside pocket of my bag. I didn’t need it for a while, and ignorant bliss quickly took over. I only found it because I was looking for my lost MP3 player, which I’d been listening to on the way to the gym. I picked it up at the reception the morning after, following a rather heated rant from my mother and a phone call to the leisure centre.

I can imagine that for most people, that piece of advice is useful. Having one place for your phone or your wallet is handy. But when you can forget a simple request five seconds after it being asked, you need to be reminded of things many a time. I need my stuff to be in my sight, glaring at me, as often as possible. Nothing should be tucked away, it should be lying about, where I can see it.

The point is, this entire post is just a massive excuse, for why it would take a week long expedition to find the carpet of my bedroom.

Take care.

I Hope Someone Hears Me...

Hi!

There is something incredibly enticing about having a presence here. Amidst the mind-numbingly neurotic comments on Youtube videos, that make me want to take a blunt meat cleaver to the face of the next member of humanity my judgemental little eyes come across, to the delusional self-professed geniuses that work tirelessly on proving to the rest of their species that instead of being the product of an in-family marriage where their mother took narcotics during their development, they are in fact amicable fellows who have something positive to contribute to my life. Oh dear, the sentence makes no sense now.

As evidence shows, I’m prone to tangents. I promise sentences will be shorter and will make more sense from now on. I really do. Don’t leave me, we’ve only just met. I’ll change for you!

You might’ve noticed my clever strategy of avoiding the point of what I’m trying to say by assaulting your mind with pointless ideas. I do that quite a bit, it’s a lot more fun than talking about what you actually need to discuss. But what the hell, I’m going to give it try. Wish me luck!

I don’t know what to do. I’m going to blame you, collective internet people. You seem like such a lovely audience, and for a pie-man such as myself with wares to sell such as these, people who accept you are absolutely wonderful. They’re the most brilliant people in the world, and I love them.

And that’s the problem, unfortunately. It’s becoming more and more apparent that your sympathy and helpfulness was just a ruse to make me look like a fool. When I was thinking about doing this, my thought process went like this:

Me: ‘They look like they’re having fun. They get to write things on the internet. I’m bored. I want to do something new. I want to do that. I’ll write on the internet. I don’t know what I’ll write about, I’m sure it’ll all work out.’

But it didn’t. I like to think I’m decent at improvising and thinking on the spot, but I’m not. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but being spontaneous has its disadvantages. Like a blog that hasn’t got anything to be filled with. Like an unstuffed turkey. Like a club for gamelan enthusiasts. It’s not a good thing.

This is a cry for help. I’m lost and confused, and I don’t know where I am. Help me.

P.S. The name of the blog is there for show, I’m still undecided on what the final name will be. It might end up staying, or not, who knows? Not me.

P.P.S. I’m not normally this rude. Or I hope not. You’ll have to judge that for yourself.