Where the hell have I been? Glad you asked…

Well hello there.

Yes, ’tis I.

It’s been over a month since I’ve written a post, but there is a pretty good reason for that.

Nothing has happened to me.

Seriously.

As most of you will know, I was made redundant at the end of February which, to be honest, wasn’t a big deal for me.  I knew it was coming and I had made peace with it.

I'm fine

But my inspiration to write and poke fun at life stems from actually being out there and interacting with the dribbling masses of the world; all the bastard commuters, the idiots I worked with (and for), and the shuffling zombies that made every day a living hell.

So it transpires that, without these pointless creatures of vacant thought and stupidity, I have no muse; no poo from which I can pick the peanuts of inspiration and laughter.

“So find another job you lazy twat!” I hear you cry.

It’s not as simple as that.

“Why not!?” I hear you ask, rapidly losing interest.

Well, that’s something I can’t share with you yet for reasons I can’t go into, but rest assured there will be a post in the not too distant future where my dam of diplomacy will burst and wash away the brown and lumpy scum that has been building up over the years.

eyebrow raise

So this has left me having to take a different approach to how – and what – I write.  A lot of my posts have been a re-telling of an event (or events) that I have either seen or experienced first hand; seeing the funny side of someone falling over, or losing their shit.

Occasionally I rant about stuff in life that generally annoys me, but my bread and butter is the sheer lunacy of daily life around me. Something I don’t have a lot of….for now.

In fact, my whole blog began as mere Facebook status updates detailing the weird and wonderful commuters I shared 3 hours a day with.  It was only through peer pressure that I decided to convert it to a blog.

You may have noticed that I’ve recently started writing about TV show addictions, visits to the supermarket and innuendo-laced lunch dates with friends which, when you consider how far I’ve come, has been incredibly hard and often difficult to swallow.

Well, now my focus is shifting.  I don’t have commuters to berate.  I don’t have work colleagues to face palm myself to, so instead I have to rely on what I see, hear and do as an unemployed bum.

Over the next year I anticipate some new muses (or is it musi?), so bear with me.  All in good time…

Until then, I’ll keep filling these pages with my utterly mindless wank.

Thanks for sticking with me….it’ll be worth it 😉

Ryan Reynolds grin

Aren’t you excited?

He shoots he fails!

I have never referred back to another person’s blog before, but there’s a first time for everything I guess, like skydiving or licking a pensioner.

I subscribe to a great blog (which I highly recommend) and today she was talking about the stresses of packing a suitcase.  I must admit I’ve never had too much of an issue, but then again I spent a lot of my youth playing Tetris.

Plus, once you’ve been made aware of the ‘socks and pants stuffed into your shoes’ trick it’s safe to say the feeling of smugness overrides the feeling of despair at not being able to fit in yet another t-shirt which you’ll inevitably bring back unworn and full of creases.

The one part of her post that really resonated with me was that moment an item you’ve lost suddenly (and maliciously) turns up after you’ve asked someone to help you look for it.  And I don’t mean you find it quicker, I mean it is sitting there in plain sight where you’ve already looked a dozen times.

Bastard.

This got me thinking about the opposite of that when you’re unable to recreate an awesome moment because you have someone there to witness it.

Case in point…

A few weeks ago I was sat in the break room having a sandwich.  It was late in the afternoon which meant no-one else was in there.

Perfect.

As I finished my sandwich I looked over at the bin, which was about 8 feet to my left, and smiled as I picked up the foil my sandwich had been in and screwed it up into a ball.  Then, with my right arm, I threw it casually sideways over my head without looking and, not only did it go in, it didn’t even touch the sides!

Boom!

I performed an airgrab, accompanied it with something like “Yeah, get in there!” and then went for a high five only to realise no-one was there to witness it.

Cock.

It could have bounced off a cupboard, ricocheted off the fridge, rolled along a shelf and been scissor-kicked into the bin by a passing mouse and it still wouldn’t have made the blindest difference.

No witness means I could have just made it up.

Yet if there HAD been someone there I wouldn’t have been able to hit the bin if my life depended on it.  It may as well be 50 feet wide and house a black hole inside, sucking in the universe, and I still would have missed on an epic scale.

“I got it in last time!”

“Of course you did Dan, sure you did”

ball in bin

To blog or not to blog?

Today, whilst eating lunch at work, I was sat opposite one of the girls I work with and she asked if I’d posted anything new on my blog since the tale of the bastard paving stone.  

I had to think.  

Erm….No.  

She looked a little disappointed. Then again it could’ve been indigestion.
 
This got me thinking. What do I blog about if I have nothing of interest to say? Do I simply post a narrative of the inane and uninteresting elements of my tedious day just so people have something to read?

No, that’s not me. I prefer to write about experiences and observations that amuse or frustrate me to the point of having an embolism…or snotting up my tea mid swallow.  

Then again, if I don’t blog anything for a while will readers tire of my shit and focus their short attention spans elsewhere? Am I at a risk of simply repeating myself over and over again just to ‘flesh out’ this awesomely superb blog?
 
Hmm.  

Also, if I don’t blog anything for a while will readers tire of my shit and focus their short attention spans elsewhere? Am I at a risk of simply repeating myself over and over again just to ‘flesh out’ this awesomely superb blog?  

You tell me.  

So I thought about today and wondered; do people really want to know about the suspicious white scum that collected on the top of my coffee this morning because I used sweeteners instead of sugar?  

And what about the 8 ply toilet seat I’d fashioned from an entire bog roll because I couldn’t bring myself to sit on the seat that had a pube on it when I entered the toilet?  

And surely watching colleagues smash free company-bought pizza into their faces, causing the walls, floors, ceilings and faces to be smeared in a detritus of mushrooms, pepperoni and  sweetcorn whilst I looked on eating my fucking delicious fucking healthy fucking chicken fucking salad isn’t something my readers want to know about?  

Mind you, I did see someone with some ham in their hair; that was funny. Although not as funny as the moronic theory that eating an entire punnet of grapes will somehow make up for the pizza because it’s ‘healthy’.  

That’s like telling your girlfriend she’s got really fat and then, because you made her cry, buying her a cake to say sorry.  

No, I’m sorry, I won’t do it. I won’t just write something because I feel that I should. I want my blogs to inspire, educate and motivate; or at the very least take your mind off your own tedious day.  

So if you want to ask when my next blog entry will be, then so be it. It’s not like I crave attention or anything.

We’re gonna need a bigger head…

I pointed out to a lady at work today that her headphones were massive.  And when I say massive, I mean they were akin to strapping two halves of a football to the sides of her noggin.

It was at this point that one of her colleagues proudly announced they were actually his.  I mocked him for a few seconds (included finger waggling and derisive laughter) before he concluded with “well why don’t you just blog about it”.

So I did.

Ha!

And for those of you out there lacking the imagination to picture the sheer enormity of these beasts….here’s an example:

Commuter Comraderie?

Train cancelled this morning.

As annoying as that is, I can’t help but be amused at the identical behaviour being displayed by my fellow commuters.

1. Look up and see the yellow scrolling billboard.
2. Stop.
3. Look around with a “for fuck’s sake, are you serious?” expression.
3. Try to get a “I know how you feel mate; I share your pain as I too am plagued by this turn of events” look from another commuter.
4. Fail to get any form of acknowledgement.
5. Get Your phone out and text the boss.
6. Take a photo of the scrolling billboard with the word ‘cancelled’ on it (as your boss probably had no issues getting into work this morning and has already been there 3 hours)
7. Walk along the platform shaking your head and huffing/tutting loudly to make sure others know just how inconvenienced you are.
8. Post it on your blog.
😉

Connect you bastard, connect!

For someone like me, having a decent 3G signal is important as I like to write Facebook statuses (or is it Stati?) and/or blog entries whilst travelling on our nation’s joke…er, i mean trains.

So why is it so hit and miss??

It pisses me off that getting a half decent signal in London is as challenging as a job application form to a Jeremy Kyle contestant.

What exacerbates it further is the fact that I’m showing 3G with FULL signal and yet I’m still greeted with that little circling icon and the word ‘Loading’ next to it.

It’s lying to me. I know it’s lying to me.

“You’re not loading, you little turd” I think to myself, “and i’m going to prove it!”
So I go into my iPhone settings, switch Airplane Mode on, wait 10 seconds, switch it off again and like magic….full signal and 3G again. Only this time it actually works.

“Awesome” I say to myself (quietly of course, as I’m on the train and I don’t want to be ‘that guy’ who talks to himself and subsequently becomes the focus of someone’s Facebook status or blog).

So I write my musings, read them back, chuckle a bit, corect aany spleling miistekes, take out the comment about someone’s mum, proof read it again, reconsider the mum comment and slide it back in (well, it’s how she likes it), chek teh speling agian, and then post it.

Oh….nope…..no 3G. That’s because I pressed send at the PRECISE moment we entered a tunnel (insert mum comment here if you like). It’s just bloody typical that I get no signal at the point I need it!

Ah, we’re out of the tunnel now. Any minute I’ll get my 3G back. I mean, we’re not in the middle of Cambodia here; this is just outside London….

…..any minute now…..

…..any minute……

Aha! Signal!

Another tunnel.

Fuck.

Ok, I can wait. I can play Trainyard or look on faceboo….ah, no I can’t.

Ok, we’re out of the tunnel again.

….any minute…..

…..aaaaaaaany minute now……

Aha! Signal!

“Tickets please”

What? Now? Sigh, hang on! (Puts phone on the table and fumbles in his bag, then pockets, then bag again; finds ticket and shows it to the ‘cheery’ chap armed with his ticket bitey clip thingy)

“Thank you”
“Fuck you”
“Pardon sir?”
“Nothing….”

He walks away…

Ok, now lets post this bastard. (Presses ‘post’)

Circling icon…(deep breath)

Back into Airplane Mode.

Aaaaaaaaaand……..done!

I hope you’ve appreciated the shit I’ve been through for you to read this!