If I lower mine to yours would you kiss me on the face?

So it's Christmas yadda yadda yadda, you know the shtick, seeing some family, eating a lot, receiving some presents and wondering where the rest got to. Mine was ok. Actually, it was great. I did the usual things that we'd all expect including falling asleep on the couch with my mouth open and eating the same meal 4 times in a row. I saw my parents which was nice, but as always, slightly uncomfortable. And I'll tell you why.

Their toilet is too high. When I sit on it I can swing my legs (not advisable when pooing) and that also means that you don't really sit in the toilet but perched on top of it. So I can never poo properly when I am there. So it makes me uncomfortable. Not the worst complaint ever but you know, not the best. When I was younger I remember having to take my skateboard in with me to rest my feet on because the seat was too damn high. By younger I mean in high school. I needed a skateboard to poo at home in high school. Audible exhalation of breath.

Baby I'm tired and baby what tires me is serving women I want to move in with. I was just serving this girl with all these tattoos and she was was wearing this perfume and I swear it fogged my brain because all I could think about was what the back of her neck would feel like under my nose and whether or not she would slap my hand away as I traced the outlines of her tattoos, would she roll towards me and would I lower mine to to hers and would we kiss in that slow timeless way and would aeon's roll by as our passion consumed us?

Would I finally be happy?

Don't answer that.

6lbs.

So she had the baby on the weekend. I got a txt saying “Baby born 4.40am. Both well.” I tell you, I’ve had worse texts. For reasons that I cannot explain, this put me in a stellar mood. Go figure. But seriously folks, I’m very vey happy for her. Welcome to motherhood Spookyrumpus.

So at the moment I’ve been spending all my free time on the couch watching DVDs. Makes for a good time, does not make for good conversation. I watched ‘Jennifers body’ on the weekend, starring Megan Fox and written by Diablo Codi. It was actually pretty good. Thoroughly entertaining even. This is where I should probably do a proper review off all the things I’ve been watching, but I am too lazy and unmotivated.

(So as a quick side note I was serving an African-American lady the other day and we were talking about how Jesus is quite often young catholic girls “wank material”. A guy who looks like Jesus just walked in, I’m so tempted to tell him that catholic girls around the world are flicking the bean to him. Anywho).

I also watched ‘Mary and Max’ by Adam Elliot. I hate it when animated stuff makes me cry ie ‘Up’. Those fucking animal rescue shows and animated characters, they’re the only things that will make my eyes spring leaks. You know those documentaries where the mother elephant rejects the baby elephant only to then accept it and show it genuine affection? Gets me every time. I am beginning to wonder if perhaps my estrogen levels are too high or something.

Also, what’s the deal with all this crazy indigestion and heart burn at the moment? Does everyone have it or is it just me? If it’s just me then it fucking sucks. Go away.

Oh yeah, it’s Christmas. God I hate this season. I can’t wait until it’s over for another year. I really do hate it. At least this year I’m not battling suicidal depression, which is nice. It’s retail that does it to me I swear. I know I was never a fan of it as a kid but 9 years of retail and 9 years of having to be nice to people who are frankly, arse-holes, has killed any excitement or mystery for me. It was Borders that did it, I think. I remember one year working all Christmas at those banks of registers, one customer after another, never ending, having one day off, then back to it, then being told off for going home early on new years day. Fuck you cunts, at least I turned up. That Robbie Williams look-a-like with his short man syndrome. Anyway, where was I? Yeah, hating the world. That’s right.

This Christmas I will be spending with my cousin at her house. She is cooking what I think will be a feast. I am excited. I have some valium incase it gets a bit ‘much’. It is not advisable to call me unless it’s been a while since you heard someone mumble and not make much sense. It looks like it will rain Christmas eve, which is how I always remember it as a kid. A storm the night before Christmas, clearing all the foul air and replacing it with the fresh stuff. Something like that anyway.

So we had my work party the other night. Wow, what a waste of time that was. I turned up to show my ‘enthusiasm’ for the company and my cunt of a boss was just a cunt to me. I swear, she is addicted to bitch pills. One of the other managers got wasted to the point of being gross, a couple of people threw up in the garden, someone threw up in the toilet but managed to miss the actual bowl and instead concentrated on making sure the floor was of an even coating.

Of course, I kept myself clean and respectable. Stoners are generally not known for their outrageous behavior. Sure, they can be pretty boring conversationalists, but that’s it. Saying that though, have you ever been sober and tried to talk to a drunk person? Yeah, that’s right, even worse. They have no obvious train of though, they repeat themselves, they smell and they lean in FAR too close. And their breath stinks like shit, and they touch you all the time. All the time with their touching.

I don’t like touching. I really don’t like it when people touch me. I especially don’t like it when they touch me for too long. I fucking hate it when they are drunk and gross and kind of going in for the kiss but not really and their face just ends up in your neck. Oh it’s foul. It makes me want to scream “Just back the fuck up!” but then I’ll be the weird one. Because I don’t like being touched by drunk people. For fucks sake, or, conversely Mr Internet, FFS.

Were you the one that bought a gun to a snowball fight?

I just read over my posts from the same time last year. Say what you will, crippling depression makes me a much more interesting writer. Why is that I wonder? It also makes me talk about sex incessantly. This one I understand. It’s because I’m horny.

This post is angry bitter and lonely. So in essence, a perfect Christmas post. Merry Christmas, or perhaps, go fuck yourself. Your call.

one sentence dot org

I really like this site. It's beautiful and heart breaking and makes me like I haven't felt in years, although, it could just be the onset of some serious depression. I wish that I could express myself as succinctly as some of these people can. I also wish that I had problems that could be explained away in only one sentence.

Here are some sentences about my weekend.

Even though I did not drink I managed to wake up with all the symptoms of hangover including the regrets.

Why am I the only one who takes "dress as crazy as you can" literally?

I got home and watched "The royal Tennenbaums" just for the scene where Luke Wilsons character attempts suicide.

After having not eaten properly all weekend I started the week famished and nauseous.

And here's a conversation I just had with myself in my head.

Brain to Heart: Don't do it, forget her and go find something else to think about.

Heart to Brain: But I like her. Besides, you're all fucked up on pot, who knows what you really like.

Brain to Heart: True that, but I can see this one coming a mile away. I'm the one connected to the eyes you know.

Heart to Brain: Yeah, but I feel it in the pit of my gut that this might work.

Brain to Heart: You're a fucking idiot. I'm warning you, this will not end well for either of us.

(Heart goes out and does it).

Later both Brain and Heart lie unsatisfied and unfulfilled.

Brain to Heart: I hate you you know. If it weren't for you I could survive this.

Heart to Brain: I'm sorry.

Brain to Heart: Just shut the fuck up ok? For the last three years I've been listening to you, listening to your bullshit, your tiny never ending lies, your false hopes and dreams, and what has it got me? Fucking nothing, no where, no how. You're an asshole and I wish you couldn't feel so I could.

Heart to Brain: Why do you hate me so?

Brain to Heart: I could ask you the very same thing.