Its close to midnight and something evil’s lurking in the dark. ‘Weevil K’inevil’ in fact. On a very hot.. almost autumn’s night. Past our bedtimes. With a big thanks to Will Robinson / I’m Not From London. Sailor Jerry’s Rum. (great Sponsors) Slight sore head this morn. A night of varying musical styles. Some great […]
The farts, fuelled by Brussel Sprouts are horrific. When sharing a bed with the napalm filled arse of your soulmate and love of your life; the aftermath of a lovely Sunday Lunch at an Olde World Pub on an Island off the south coast of England. The laughter soon dissipates, unlike the gas. The nightmare of no matches at hand. Retching..coughing, nausea to the nostrils. Not doing my infected sinus/polyp party any good.
Maybe I’m still getting karma after eating a pizza that was far too mixed with things that didn’t agree. Me letting out a gift for the wife who was on the phone at the time. She then had to hand it to me while rushing off to the bathroom to UP CHUCK. That episode made me squeal and cry laughing. Our friend at the other end of the phone didn’t quite get the sudden Wacky Races Mutley impression and high pitch squealing occurring. It was cruel and naughty. Sometimes you don’t realise the power and potency of bottom burps. ( I did spend that night on the toilet during a band rehearsal, had to then crash in my bandmates spare room and recover after losing and flushing away all my internal organs .. While everyone else partied after) the only saving grace.. I was the only one without a hangover the following morning.
I move finally to my favourite memory of recents. Having gone to a carvery with my inlaws. Eyes bigger than tum. I felt the urge to “let one go” at the table, thinking silent and unnoticeable in a crowded noisy pub. At the exact moment of release. My arse amplified it to tuba volume levels, the pub went silent. Jaws dropped. My in laws; horrified. I cried laughing. After a good telling off. Their disbelief and somewhat giggling. I laughed even more. This still gets mentioned to this day. Threatened with being grassed up to my parents.. The lecture resulting would be horrific!
Life, since settling down in my middle to late thirties has turned into fart amusement competitions.
From dropping an air biscuit at the checkout in supermarkets, then walking off to “fetch something” nearly peeing my pants.. while my wifey coughs, heaves, tears streaming.
I hope I never follow through.. As you get older.. Things get saggy!
Flatulence can turn a blue sea brown
I’ve just started blogging again. After a long time away. Previous journals years ago, typing my dark place hell and addictions on myspace for the world to peruse. In the hope my own exorcism of thoughts, ideas, dreams and negative verbal vomit would help me escape my wilderness. Nowadays ( 2 years later and the path of sorting myself is well travelled ) Clear headedness, herbal teas, now help me shine a little brighter.
I used to love putting a winning hilarious comment on my Facebook status, promote my music to people who never come to our gigs or buy our albums. (Sickipedia generated some gems to share… Nothing too vile or politically incorrect though for mine ) That little egotistical thrill and popularity boost of how many ‘likes’ ‘omgs’ ‘lmaos’ ‘lols’ and ‘rofls’. How many of my FB ‘pals’ do I actually know or have met in real life? Erm… Possibly around 100 (including previous work colleagues) out of my 1000 + . The addiction of Facebook has worn thin. Checking it constantly, (Toilet, breaks, bed, waking, middle of night insomnia, watching a movie.. well obviously not paying it my full attention, during a meal, on the bus.. and so on) Fearing missing out on something. Something major, something exciting. some snippet of excellence. That…. rarely comes. Having suffered the constant drivel of people posting and reposting overkill of crap pictures with ‘funny, wise, political or poetic statements’ or the political guilt trips. Cruelty, “Eat Vegan” or die of a heart attack meat eaters” apparent unhealthy cruel animal murdering fat bastards” according to some… dictatorship (now that caused a big row! And eventual deletion) don’t get me wrong. Opinion entitlement is a right of the free world. Saying the same shit over and over again dictating and guilt tripping lessens the point, clogs up news feeds and frankly bores you to death.
My own mind
Is non negotiable. Hell will freeze over before I’m bullied. It can be gently influenced with valid gentleness. Thank the clever gnomes in the forest for the ‘Unsubscribe’ option, rather than full on ‘delete.’ (And they don’t even realise you can no longer suffer them on your news feed 😉
Then we get the true torment “just done washing, fed kids, had dinner” “watched paint dry” “my life is so incredibly boring I’m going to write about it with running commentaries”
Then you get the moaning, negativity, airing dirty linen, arguments, bitchyness, workmates slag offs. Stalking, spying, speculating, pervs, green card seekers, stirrers and occasional funny person ….hallelujah. The refreshing breeze of change bitch slaps your faith in humour. Whoop!
After spending an Eon unsubscribing to the majority. I’m left with a handful.
All in all its got very boring for me on Facebook. Android Phone Technology has enabled mass post dribblings. I moved to Twitter. There is hope now.
Then, December 2012. I joined WordPress. I felt the urge to write now I’m a little older, wiser, settled and happier. Brilliant 🙂