Resolutions...Such a Good Idea. So Very Forgetful.

I like New Year’s Resolutions. They’re a nice way to try and change your life in some small way (life meaning three weeks until you forget about it, then vehemently deny any resolution-ing taking place in order to save yourself the embarrassment of your horrific failure).

While I like the idea, I can’t help but feel that, at least during full time education, the period of the year that you make them in feels a bit awkward. I mean, it might be the end of the year proper, but you’re only just a third of the way through the school year, and I’ve already set in stone what sort of person I’m expected to be this year.

The admittedly awful reasoning above is why I make my New Year’s Resolutions at the end of the summer holidays, when you’ve been away for ages, you haven’t seen many people, and they can only expect some sort of change to have happened during that time. I mean, if you’re going to transform into some hideous parody of what you once were, it’s best to do it when people can’t see it. New school year, new start is the basic premise. Here are my ‘summer resolutions’:

1. Don’t be an asshat. Clarified, any general dickishness towards other people or being a twat. I know this will be unbearably difficult for me, so I’ll have to put up with at least lowering the tone of asshattery from what it once was. Now, people who know me know that I rarely ever mean what I say to them, it’s just friendly banter, and some good practice in case some cutting remarks are needed in the real world.

Unfortunately, sometimes people don’t take the banter as intended. No, they decide to take it as a personal attack on them, as if I had gone out of my way to intentional harm their emotional wellbeing, instead of making a friendly jibe. They decide to get offended. I don’t see why they get so angry at being offended, it’s not like anything’s going to happen. I get offended all the time; comedians who aren’t funny, delusional pop stars, fangirls. Luckily I have brain cells, and move on with my life, no use dwelling on things you can’t change. If only everyone could be so lucky.

You’ll notice that I may have just insulted you. If you’re going to be offended, could you do it somewhere private please. Much appreciated.

Oh my, I seem to have gone off on a tangent. Back to the topic!

2. Time management skills. I have none. Things that you have to do are automatically less fun than things you choose to do, by virtue of the lack of choice. Sure, anything can be made fun with the right mindset, but why waste your precious time trying to make something fun, when there’s already something naturally fun for you to do?

This does lead to some problems when something needs to be done by a certain time. Sure, I procrastinate immensely, but it gets finished. Eventually. It’s just a good thing I can work well under time pressure. The irony is I have an art project to finish for Tuesday, and I’m writing this blog post. The things I do for you.

So there you go. My two Summer Resolutions. For everyone who knows me, and enjoys the twat with poor time management skills I have become, have no fear. Don’t worry, I assure you, they will be forgotten in a week. Two max.

The horde, they clamour!

I’m really supposed to be doing my art coursework, but the blog needed something new, so I thought I’d attempt to do some drawing. These are some pathetic attempts on Paint without using a tablet.

This is Bustin’ Beaver. He’s a cool new pop star. I mean, you haven’t seen anything like this guy before. He’s so totally original, look at the way he’s wearing his cap. This guy is breaking boundaries.

So that’s Bustin’ Beaver. Even though, he’s like totally young, he’s still really popular. And he’s the best singer in the world, his oversized buck teeth giving him that pre-pubescent hint in his voice. He will always be cool, thanks to his legions of fans.

There would be another picture, but I like to keep my wrists in working condition (who knows, Bustin’ Beaver may make a re-appearance at some point). Unless you have been keeping away from music for a while, or just don’t care, you’ll probably guess that I’m making fun of the Canadian halfwit known as Justin Bieber.

Now, enough people have mocked him for being him. I mean, sure he’s a bit of an ass, has become quite arrogant, and has enough femininity to rival the collective homosexuality of the Scissor Sisters, but it’s just too easy.

No, I’m going after the zombie masses; Bieber’s fans. I’m extending this to any obsessed groupings of fangirls/fanboys. Seriously, what is wrong with you people? I can understand being into something, my shelves are plagued with plastic/metal models, all in various stages of completion. Some people might tell me I’m a little bit addicted to Facebook. I know far too many film quotes than is healthy.

I’m all for people being into something, but when it becomes your life it’s gone too far. There are so many experiences in life that latching yourself onto one and ignoring all others just seems like self-flagellation to me.

If you couldn’t go without something for a week, then you have a problem. I mean, I could go without the internet for a week. It’d be hard, and I’d miss people I can only speak to on there, but I’d cope. It makes me weep for the future of the human race when I hear the banshees clamouring for their ‘hawt’ superstar. They’re missing out on so much, purely because this over-hyped commercial ‘singer’ has affected them to such a degree.

It isn’t just music stars personalities. While this is a very obvious target, and it seems like I’m picking on teenage girls, the same rabid madness can be seen in the followers of the Twilight series (yes, fangirl, they may call it a Saga, but it doesn’t deserve that title at all). The amount of stories I have seen about rabid Twihards attacking sane logical people amazes me.

I mean, I could understand if the author could actually write, but come on. It seems mediocrity is the thing to be obsessed about these days, while true talent lies by the wayside...

I could rant about either of these things for a lot longer, and probably will do in the future, but I feel I’m becoming intensely boring, and don’t want to drive you away. I mean, you mean a lot to me. Don’t leave!

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.