I read in the paper yesterday a lad my age who's 6'9@ has just signed a 3.5 Million deal playing basketball in the NBA, getting 170k a week, which is more than any premiership footballer! And I'm pulling pints in a working man's club
The partition HDD wasn't big enough for all my music so some had to be sacrificed (good bye Goldfinger, Descendants, Lost Prophets, Bright Eyes, Jack Johnson, Muse, Captain Beefheart and Screaming Trees) and now it's just generally been a bastard booting. The first Windows CD was f**ked and didn't install properly. The second one did but that was just the start. Now, at 7pm I am resizing the new partition so it is essentially one big HDD again. I started this about 6 hours ago. I turned down a cover shift to sort this out. This puts my money for leeds in the distinctly 'fooked' area, though I will collar my AWOL father about some cash and see if he can help me out. I have 30 quid in my wallet, and am guaranteed 55 quid as standard on saturday.
Also need to air my tent out. My bid to get fit is dead on it's arse and will continue to be until I've had my operation and can actually do things like play regular sport (which is far more fun than just boring exercise). It may also f**k up my job
Where I partition my Hard drive and format it so a) it runs faster and it will be running faster when World Of Warcraft: The Burning Crusade comes out next month. Which will lift me out of post-Leeds misery by upping the geek ante significantly. I mean you can do jewel crafting! JEWEL CRAFTING! You may not give a f**k about jewel crafting but some poor bastard living in his parent's attic/basement/shed with severe acne, a tiny penis and a 20 quid a week sugary drink habit needs that shit!
In other news I had a dream I was at Leeds on the wednesday last night except I was with friends who aren;t going and I had forgotten key things like my tent and my phone. Maybe my subconcious was reminding me to get ready?
Which probably means I'm boring. I just watched this.
I don't know what to do with this blog. See I was thinking of just doing a big weekly update about a particular topic, that people could respond to in any way they saw fit, and it'd be all fun. But then I thought 'you've only had 2 comments and f**k all views so no-one is probably even reading this you tit'.
In other news I can play the Feel Good Inc bassline. It's not much of an achievement.
Hopefully we will sell Reyes to Madrid for a cash plus player deal, Baptiste or Robinho both being beter than Reyes in my eyes.
And Ashley Cole can go get screwed, if he doesn't want to play for Arsenal I don't want him to play for Arsenal, he was out 99% of last season and we got to the CL Final.
I was rudely awakened fro my slumber, a dream that involved me for some reason watchin g a seated stage show that appeared to be Cher on stage, and Dirk Kuyt was in the audience, except Kuyt was thoroughly English, because I had a forgotten hospital consultancy at 9.45am this morning. So much for planning to do things today. So I waited an hour for a consultant (who was actually a good guy) to say 'Yeah we've scanned your left knee, we'll scan your right'
The hunt for new shoes goes on, I mentioned to friends I may be buying a pair of Dr Martens, the reaction was along the lijnes of 'LOL THEY'RE GAY!?!?!?! OMG!'. What sophisticated company I keep.
I need a hat, god I need something to keep my hair sorted while it grows unruly. Though I'm not really a hat person, so I don't know. I also haven't shaved in over a week.
The search for the cortina goes on, I would like something like this:
However the body kit on the car this nutter owns looks pretty cool. I think a cortina resprayed would look awesome.
In other new, my leeds early entry pass arrived this morning.
I mean like really f**king smell. I need a new pair of shoes. I may have mentioned this. Last night's entertainment was the Barrow equivalent of fine cognac and cigars over a game of backgammon at a gentleman's abode last night; 8 cans of lager, a chicken and mushroom pizza, Pro Evo 5 and a few joints sprinkled on top for good measure.
The 'girlfriend' arrives at 1pm until 3pm for the last time before she goes on holiday. I have a feeling it would be ill-timed to finish with her. I have a mind to go to the shop, buy some credit and text her saying she shouldn't come round because my parents have had a row/my dog died/ the freezer's on the blink/ I had an out of body experience. But screw it, I'll just whack on Carlito's Way and pay more attention to Pacino than her. What a ladykiller I am My mother, who's contribution is naturally null and void because of her title, suggests that the relationship may be suffering because we live an hour away from each other. Yes, that and I want to have sex with all the other females, mummy.
I suppose I'll have to have a bath before she comes then. I realise that should be a prerequisite of any day, bathing/washing/general hygiene, but I I enjoy spending my Sundays chilling out pretending I don't have to spend my Sunday night serving a bunch of old people and drunken twats. Not that I would be doing anything better than earning money, or indeed that I mind it when I'm there, but still, the principle of the whole 'work' thing.
I hate Sundays.
Saturday began very oddly for me, in that, I was still at work when the clock struck midnight, and Saturday 5th August 2006 was born. I finished, got paid 100 english pounds and decided whether to go the house party I had been told about, the pub that served late, or my friend who was awake even later. I eventually opted for the 'go to bed you have work in 12 hours option', which led to trouble sleeping and eventually a dream where I was at work
I now have to mull over I shall do with my Saturday night. Seemingly everyone is partied out from Friday, I should really save money for leeds which is 3 weeks today, but I can't abide a Saturday night pretending I'm a female Night Elf Druid called Jahiera in the magical world of Azeroth again (a.k.a play World Of Warcraft).
In other news I have embraced a strange craving for Bloc Party, particularly 'Banquet'. I can't decide whether to save for a Suzuki Marauder or a Ford Cortina. I need a new pair of shoes because all my trainers are either on the verge of death or smell like death. I would like a pair of Doc Martens but 60 quid is 60 quid I don't have. Oh I also need to sort out my student loan for my changed degree (changed from English Lit and Film Studies to Computer Technology (CISCO Engineer training = money). I have work again tomorrow at 7pm. My 'girlfriend' is coming round for an hour or two before she goes on holiday for a week. I say 'girlfriend' because we're kind of seeing each other but she may be taking it more seriously than me, where as I'm in two minds and going with the 'well there's nothing better at the moment' philosophy. Which is probably wrong of me, but f**k that I haven't had any action since last year.
What is even weirded is I had to work a shift with my brief ex-girlfriend last night, and we got on fine. Though she was more like a girl who was a friend and things got lusty for a few weeks as opposed to a 'we bought each other presents and said soppy things' girlfriend. I have so much free time yet I am failing to embrace the creative projects I want to accomplish, musically and otherwise. I personally blame marijuana and poor fitness, the fitness down to my cruciate ligament deciding to collapse again and the doctors wating to scan before surgery.
In closing I caught myself singing Wham! on two occasions today, 'Club Tropicana' and 'Last Christmas' (in August, WTF?) respectively. Which means I need to shave before I become George Micheal.
Yes I am a bastard, but you already knew that.