I’m in so much pain that not even a  blowjob from Aphrodite on Zeus’ bed will alleviate the hurt.
I spent two hours at the gym yesterday working on my back and biceps. My coccyx feels like it’s gonna snap from all the deadlifting and my arms are fucked. You would’ve thought the fact I’m a champion masturbater would help but nooooo. The fact I came back from football just now has deffffffinitely helped the situation. That was sarcasm by the way. I know I’m being a whiny bitch, I don’t care. Shut up and cuddle me. Paaaaaaaaain. So much paaaaaaaaaaain. It’s like my emotions has a physical manifestation.  Wooooooe is my life. My lifeeeee. Paaaaaaaain.

The 29 Day Challenge: Part 14- Timeline Of My Day.

14. Timeline Of My Day

I don’t really “plan” my day. But there is a recurring theme for what I get up to depending on the volume of company I have. So we’ll do it like that. It’s in no particular order.

Just me: Job search, get stoned if there’s any weed, read (started reading again which is a wonderful feeling), think about shit, masturbate, go gym, shower, catch up on football if applicable on the day, blog, think about people, talk to Blue either on Skype and/or whatsapp.

Me and Friends: I silently perve on women and say absolutely nothing about it or make it obvious. My friends are the kinda hush hush “I’d hit that” kind. Thankfully I have no embarrassing “YO. BABEH. ME AND YOU.” kinda friends. My friends know I perve, I just never say anything about it. I talk about sex a lot, but never talk about women that glanced my eye. I don’t personally think it’s a bad thing. I don’t stare or cop a feel or anything. Just makes it easier to occupy my mind for a few more minutes before the next chick I temporarily think about. Everyone does it, let’s be honest. It’s actually annoying because Blue has randomly popped up in my head on occasion like some mental cock-block whilst I’m internally screaming “THIS ISN’T ALLOWED. THIS IS MY MIND. LEAVE. I’M NOT EVEN DOING ANYTHING.”


Catching up, stonage if they smoke too (I don’t pressure my non stoner friends to join in), engaging in the usual jokey stuff, venting from friends and me listening if need be (and vice versa, though they’re likelier to do it), probably go out in some way, food/clubbing/raving. Oh, and playing sportzzz. Which is later on today in the form of football.

Standard shit ennit.

The 29 Day Challenge- Part 13: What’s In My Purse.

13. What Is In My Purse

Wow… I see how this is. Took me 13 days to realise that this blog challenge was aimed at women and possibly effeminate dudes who may or may not be gay too. Well. That’s sexist. Come at me misandrists, I said it. It’s sexist. That’s right, men can say it too.


…Ok, I’ve snapped out the random scenario. I didn’t mean any of that. If any women into misandry (didn’t mention men because that’s kinda dumb, unless they changed sexes. Thought I’d mention because everyone gets touchy over every damn thing.) does read this, please, please, don’t give me an earful. I’m gonna adopt the classic I’m-not-racist line and say:

I am not sexist, I have tooooooons of female friends and they don’t mind what I say. I’m down with women. Periods. Yeahhhh. Giving birth. Yeahhhhh. Adele. Yeaaaaaaaaaah. See? I’m down with the culture yo.

As you may have guessed, I don’t have a purse. I think everything that just happened was filler enough to help your interest.



Shout out to my Canadian friend who is also Greek. She’s a close pal. Even if her usually positive demeanor pisses the hell out of me. We have this thing, where we call it other “Pali”. It has no meaning. We just make it whatever the fuck it is. Pali in Greek apparently means, “again”. So, we’re calling each other a word which has no discernible validity. This all happened because of this song that came up on the shuffle option on her MP3 whilst we were in Madrid for this travel journalism course. I absolutely terrorised her at the beginning at the cringeyness. But at the weeks went on in Madrid, it became our “thing”.

And now it’s come to the point where I lost to her in a game of Scrabble, and now I have to sing this song to her and remembering the lyrics of a language I know nothing about, and making a shoddy music video for her. Yeah. I suck at making bets, I always have to do the forfeit. I get hustled so easily. It’s weird seeing we’re still tight as we haven’t seen each other in years due to location issues. But it’s all on her to visit one day. She’s being nice enough to look for jobs in Canada for me. Bless her. Before you say anything, our friendship is not sexual in any way. Granted, I wanted to bone her in Madrid, but she friendzoned me so fast I was left reeling. In her words, “When I first saw you, you were attractive. And that’s why I friendzoned you. Because you’re worth more as a friend”. Now, looking on that, that’s very awwwwwwwh. But at the time, it was very “BITCH. WHAT THE FUCK. ME AND YOU. BUMP UGLIES. POKE POKE.” She’s in a happy relationship with some dude and I’m rather happy with that. I obviously have to state that I am more attractive that he is on every occasion I talk to her, even if I’ve forgotten what his face looks like.

Anyway. Here’s the song which symbolises our friendship. You’re a turd, Pali, but I guess you’re alright.

The 29 Day Challenge: Part 11 & 12- If I Won The Lottery And My Favourite Quote.

Ah, here we go. Something I’ll enjoy writing about.

11. If I Won The Lottery

Ok, so let’s say the winnings was 50 million in whatever currency you’re used to. I’m not one that spends a lot of money as it is, but I think I would go through the selective usage of “blowing money”. Spend obscene crap on shit I’d actually use. Asian mentality ennit. I think this is how it’d pan out.

-20 million for charitable purposes. There seems to be increasing coverage on how charities use money to fund the charities to keep going with a very small percentage of it actually going towards resources for people who need it. Obviously it’s split across the spectrum of whether the funding is like that because that’s how harsh the real world is atm, or because of the CEO’s being dicks, but that’s your prerogative.  I’d spend it on like shit that people need. Like build water reserves, or spend it on bricks and shit to help rebuild broken down areas. Or provide big ass food parties or something. I’d hire people too. Sort out their accomodation if need me. 20 million would be nothing to help, but it’d offer some sort of refuge. And yes, I would give 20 million, in case you were wondering. Money is pretty easy to spend on other people for me regardless of my situation. I’m not expecting any “oh you’re so moral” kinda crap, purely because in my head I believe that everyone should do that for each other, but clearly the world isn’t like that.

-10 million on family and friends. My mom would obviously get the lion’s share (or should that be lioness’s?) with 5 mill. My closest friends would get half a million each. If they can’t turn that into any more money and expected more than half a mill I’d be seriously disappointed for them. Whatever is left would be given on little cousins and other relatives/friends/past work colleagues/people who I don’t talk to but gave me help on what help they needed with. Bills, new car, new tv, shit like that.

-5 million on property development/stock market and 5 million chilling in the bank. I might have 50 million but I don’t want to be left with nothing again. I’d wanna keep that run going. So I’d buy houses and rent em off for university students or something. I’d probably get like 1 big ass swanky house for event renting and shit like that. The 5 mill in the bank would be emergency money and would have to be used as an absolute last resort. The longer I resist, the more I’ll get from APR.

-15 million on whatever the fuck I want. Namely parties. And recreational highs. And doing high class YouTube videos. And I’d spend it on stupid stuff that would actually be used. Like my very own underground indoor football pitch. Or a cinema. Or a DJ booth where I can practice my own shit. And obviously a games room. One for the kids, and one for the bigger kids, we call them adults. I’m not very supercars-y, but I’d probably get one. But I’m only driving it if I get my own racetrack too. I don’t trust myself in public in a supercar. Mainly because I can imagine people shouting at me that I’m not using it “properly”. I’m Mr Safety in terms of driving. I’m the kinda guy that’d make you wear the seatbelt at the back even if you don’t give a shit. I ain’t having your life on my hands like that, take the bus if you’re so adamant. Or maybe I’d get Blue to fly over 5ever so I don’t have to put up with the bullshit everytime she has to fly back to ‘Murica. Or I’d go there 6ever. Whatever. I rarely have these childish stupid thoughts. I blame her. Fuck, I just realised I blog about her too much. That’s gonna stop now. Cuz I got a rep to keep up, don’t want people thinking my insults and put downs are all lies. Anyway. I’d flash the dosh, but I wouldn’t necessarily be THAT stupid with it. Like buying a ring worth 2 million just because, that’d be effort to carry around on my finger. Oh, actually, I’d also give like a grand to some of the bloggers I follow on here. Might as well. If you’re cocky enough to think this applies to you, then you’re probably right. But don’t get happy, I haven’t won the lottery, or probably ever will. Feel free to use this as receipt of some kind if I get super rich via other means.

12. Favourite Quote

My nearest and dearest friends know that I absolutely have an unhealthy obsession with Trainspotting. It’s my favourite book and film of all time. So it’s an easy quote for me. It’s actually two different quotes, but actually make more sense as a pair.

So in the first part of the film, the protagonist (Renton) starts off with,

“Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suit on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourselves. Choose your future. Choose life… But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else.”

Cue all the bullshit that happens to him in the film. Avoiding all the spoilers for your sake there if you haven’t seen the film (which you REALLY should). Anyway, at the end of the film, Renton then says:

“The truth is that I’m a bad person. But, that’s gonna change – I’m going to change. This is the last of that sort of thing. Now I’m cleaning up and I’m moving on, going straight and choosing life. I’m looking forward to it already. I’m gonna be just like you. The job, the family, the fucking big television. The washing machine, the car, the compact disc and electric tin opener, good health, low cholesterol, dental insurance, mortgage, starter home, leisure wear, luggage, three piece suite, DIY, game shows, junk food, children, walks in the park, nine to five, good at golf, washing the car, choice of sweaters, family Christmas, indexed pension, tax exemption, clearing gutters, getting by, looking ahead, the day you die.”

He’s a heroin addict. But I just like the idea he wants to break free even though there’s an element of uncertainty because of a potential relapse. But. I don’t know. Renton’s words were pretty powerful to me personally, I guess I saw his struggle as similar to my own. Not that I am, or ever was, a heroin addict. I’m not THAT wild.