Which side of me will win?

De Luxe Edition

I awoke this morning wondering what you call a person from Luxembourg. I looked it up and they’re a Luxembourger. They even speak Luxembourgish. Less interesting answers than I was hoping for. I was wondering this because there was a girl in my dream from Luxembourg. She also said she was Belgian, and that the type of Belgian she was was called a ‘Bambino’. It was at that point that I started to suspect she was merely a figment of my subconscious. I might not have known that a Luxembourger comes from Luxembourg (although I’m pretty sure I could have guessed if put on the spot), but I do know that a Bambino doesn’t come from Belgium.

I woke up pretty early for a Sunday, presumably because I slept so much yesterday. I got out of bed, got dressed and put some plastic bottles and glass jars in bags to take to the recycling centre. My building is one of those from which the council does not collect recyclables, I’m guessing because someone kept throwing chicken carcasses in the recycling bin before I even moved in here. Happened in a building I lived in before too. Read the rest of this entry »


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Three years today

I slept long and hard this morning, having been out late last night, finally emerging from beneath my little safe haven of duvet and pillows just before 1. I got dressed and headed out pretty much straight away. I walked to Lansdowne, running the last little bit as I’d timed it a little too finely, and got on a number 50 ‘Purbeck Breezer’ bus. I went upstairs and sat in the open-top section, enjoying the breeze along with some Black Sabbath.

During my bus journey I was able to use my elevated position to spy on people I know without them realising it. Yeah, I know exactly what both Jimbo and Katie got up to this afternoon. Jimbo was standing around near a bus stop in Gervis Place and talking to a bloke in a hat and a T-shirt. Then later on, Katie was walking through Westbourne with some friends. Don’t any of you go thinking your secrets are safe from me when I’m on the Purbeck Breezer.

I only mentioned this so that I can now tag those two when I post this on Facebook in the vain hope that they’ll read this blog  just to make sure I’m not slagging them off. Which I’m not, and I wouldn’t. They’re both lovely. Read the rest of this entry »

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The Knife of Vengeance

This morning I sprung out of bed before my alarm even went off, singing “Hip, hip hooray!”, then threw open the curtains, basked in the sunshine pouring in through my bedroom window and declared, “Good morning world! Isn’t it great to be alive?”

Bollocks did I.

Wasn’t too much of a struggle though, as I remember. I left in good time and got to work early, where I ate yoghurt banana and drank Irn Bru again. I can’t help it.

On the way to work I saw a graying, grizzled man of the type frequently seen in Boscombe, less frequently elsewhere. He sneezed really loud, swung his foot up sharply as if striking a volley at goal, then made a weird follow-up noise. I thought to myself, that’s Dave in 20 years’ time. I recounted this anecdote at work and everyone pointed out that it’s basically Dave now. Which, to be fair, is true, to be fair. Read the rest of this entry »

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The Fork of Retribution

This morning I woke up a little bit earlier than normal so that I could wash the dressing (as opposed to the marinade) out of my hair and scalp. I usually shower in the evening and not in the morning because the morning is for sleeping then working with as little as possible happening between the two.

I went back to bed for ten minutes after showering because that’s just how much I hate the morning, but then that meant I had to get up again. I’ll never learn. But I did eventually get up again, get dressed and head to work. Bus today, not enough time to walk. The bus was yellow, which means the Green Hornet would be powerless against it. Read the rest of this entry »

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“Oh… no… no… just… fuck off!”

And so began a very long day. If those weren’t the exact words out of my mouth at the time, they were the exact words that went through my head when I recalled the first waking moments of the day some 12 hours later.

Very tired, very cranky day. And very hungry morning. The fury of the Spoon Of Justice was unleashed without mercy many times today. Things got so out of hand I even had to administer it quite firmly to my own forehead at one point, much to the amusement of Dave, who expressed some glee at witnessing the tool of his oppression turning against its own master. I think it was glee anyway. He looked at me and made a weird noise. Read the rest of this entry »

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The cat came back

I remember this morning being a particularly sweary one. I’m not a good sleeper and not a good waker-upper either, so I need not one, not two, but three separate devices with alarms to get me out of bed in the morning. The downside of this is that they keep going off even after I am up and out of bed, so I have to keep returning to my bedroom to swear them into silence. I distinctly remember telling my phone to fuck off this morning. It’s a proper little mouthy cunt, I tell you.

The cat came back. That should really be one of the cats came back, as there are two. This time last year, and throughout last summer, I enjoyed regular visits from two of my feline neighbours. Usually just one at a time. On the one occasion they were both in here at once, things turned a bit nasty. I don’t know which one came in this morning, as it was too dark to see, but I’m guessing it was Battle Cat, the larger of the two. I called them Battle Cat and Cringer because, not seeing them in the same place at the same time for so long, I suspected they were the same cat, with the larger being a super, magic version of the other. Anyway, I look forward to further visits, although I hope there’s no more fighting. And I hope Cringer has learned his lesson after the time he refused to leave when I went to work, then pissed his little cat-pants during the 9 hours he was locked in the flat. Read the rest of this entry »

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Elmo Decapitated

This morning I awoke in my own good time shortly after 10 am, without any intense rush of negative emotion or any need to say rude words. I had a little tinkle… well, quite a big tinkle probably, then set about my first task of the day. My friend Soops – who I can’t ever remember calling ‘Soops’ in person, but it seems to be the done thing these days – said that she would plug my blog on her blog if I made a Spotify playlist to go with it. Seems posting other people’s Spotify playlists is a regular thing on her blog and I reckon she’s got about 20 times the regular readers I have, so it had to be a good idea.

The other reason it was a good idea is that I used to love making (teehee… ‘love making’) themed mix tapes back when, y’know, tapes actually existed and I really miss doing that. I never used to have 8 million tracks to choose from either, so it’s even more fun with Spotify. I discovered some real gems that I think complement my blog beautifully. I’m no Spotify convert though. I despise advertising and if I’m going to pay for something, I want it to be something I can own and collect. I don’t care how much room it takes up in my flat. Read the rest of this entry »

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What the fuck are they meant to be?

At the risk of repeating myself, I woke up this morning. I’d had a pretty strange dream. So strange, I’m not going to detail it here. I went into the bathroom, stood in front of the toilet and popped my willy through the flap in my pants. I then closed my eyes tight and took a number of long, slow, deep breaths. Then I had a wee.

From there I did the usual things I do of a morning – muttering swears mostly – then set off to work for the last time this week. On the way I saw Andy crossing the road to his bus stop. Andy would not walk to work with me. The only two means of transport acceptable to Andy are bus and rowboat. I think he should row to work. He’d have trouble getting up Richmond Hill, mind.

My craving for Irn Bru struck early this morning so I popped into a newsagent in Lansdowne, which I remembered sells my favourite snack – yoghurt banana. Not to be confused with banana yoghurt, yoghurt banana is banana chips coated in yoghurt. I bloody love yoghurt banana. So I bought a bag of those bad boys and a can, just a can, of Irn Bru. I’m trying to cut down. Read the rest of this entry »

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It’s a monster. It is not a fish.

Ooh, I’m really quite full of chilli. How apt it is that I have elected to begin this blog about mundanity during a period when I will be eating the same thing every day for as long as I can stand it.

Um… never mind what happened just now though…

No, fuck you Word. ‘Mundanity’ is a word. And so is ‘mundaneness’ should I choose to use it, you dumb fuck! Fuck you, and fuck all of your Microsoft Office bitches! Read the rest of this entry »

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Cheer up, cough

It was light outside when I finally stopped coughing and got some sleep this morning. I think I got 1-2 hours in all, which is why I am in a cranky mood today. Like Oscar The Grouch. I called all my Facebook friends, absolutely all of them, ‘fucks’ for failing to tell me how to upload a pic to my Twitter profile within three minutes of my asking them. It’s been that kind of day. The wrath of the Spoon Of Justice was felt repeatedly today. The Spoon Of Justice is a tool used to discipline people at work, almost exclusively Dave, who sits next to me. If you don’t know Dave, you will. His character will emerge from these blogs gradually like a patch of thick fog from a swirling sea of mist.

I was in a shitty mood from the moment I woke up, and stomped around the flat, asserting out loud that I hate everything and that everything should be subjected to ‘fuck’, whatever that’s supposed to mean. I wasn’t saying, “Everything should be subjected to fuck!” I was saying, “Fuck everything!” I worded it like that so as to be boring or funny. One of the two, surely. Read the rest of this entry »

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