By this time last year I had finished reading “Point Counter Point” , “The White Fang”, “Cannery Row” and whenever I was bored I was reading bits by “Love All The People” by Bill Hicks. By this time last year, I had read “Pulp” by Bukowski, almost done with University work and I was communicating with a homeless man who would like to call himself “Bumdog” via e-mail. By this time last year I was impressed and disgusted with how people give birth to kids just for fun.
This year is quite similar. By now I have read “White Nights”, “Franny And Zooey” , “The Sunset Limited” and working on essays for the University. It seems that people still give birth to kids just for fun or for the benefit that they get for each kid. But now I am not disgusted or even slightly impressed by it. It seems that it’s a trend. A trend just like faded jeans, haircuts, a genre of music or words used without even knowing the meaning of them. And people have always preferred the easiest path. It’s in our nature I guess. So, why work to get paid when you can give birth and get paid by the number of babies you pop out of your baby? You’re a self-employed factory-like human being, well that only if you have the right set of genitals.
On the other hand, on the local newspaper’s website, I read that Preston has one of the most growing and biggest prostitution markets in the U.K. I tried to find that specific article just for the readers’ comments but I couldn’t find it. Man some people were going CRAZY. About how it’s totally wrong and blah blah blah. Think about this smart ass: What if your precious son was born with an anomaly and the only way for him to get laid was to pay for it? Would you turn to these girls then or you’d let your boy grow old and die sex-free and starved? Think about how you talk about and treat women before you go on with your "save morality campaign".
It’s funny how we remember of our morals when it comes down to prostitution and saying that “it should be illegal” but it’s all fine when getting paid without doing any work at all and we’re all opposed to doing community work to get paid.
But I found this: http://www.lep.co.uk/news/the_cold_call_girls_1_58232
Well, I’m way too tired to keep writing. Like this time last year, I am going to make myself something to eat watch a movie/ read and try to go to sleep before midnight. I’ve been getting really good at it.
L8ERZ YOU N0OBZ
Sunday 21 November 2010
Tuesday 2 November 2010
Buh Bye October
After spending 3 hours in the library searching for information that I didn’t even know where to attain from I ended up with this conclusion: FORGET ABOUT ROPES, PILLS AND ALL THESE UNTRUSTWORTHY MEANS. A DOUBLE BARREL SHOTGUN WILL DO THE JOB NO DOUBT; or a cigarette, a cup of coffee and some relaxation.
I went to Manchester and Leeds for the weekend. I walked down the streets of Leeds, smoked and window shopped till 8pm. I had dinner and then headed to the gig. Didn’t make it in so I went to another gig. We stayed at the venue after the gig was finished and got drunk with some zombies, tigers and penguins. It was more than alright. You could say I’d flat lined if I didn’t have a good time.
I got back at the hotel at around 3 am. I don’t want to sound poetic or smart here but a hotel bed is a lot colder and emptier when sleeping alone than the one at home. Before I fell asleep I ate what it could possibly be, the most peppered pizza in the world. I woke up at 10 am with a stomach ache and a dry mouth. Drank water, took shower, checked out.
12am : Met a zombie at the Leeds’ train station’s parking lot. I got coffee and a sandwich. Had breakfast on the way back home. We made jokes of having loads of girlfriends and how they call me all the time just to tell me that they’re sluts. We drove back to Manchester. Drank tea, smoked and played Red Dead Redemption. “I’m such a slut” could be the punch line of this trip.
Goodbye October, misery doesn’t love company. Misery loves country music, literature and academic reading. Misery loves writing and most certainly misery doesn’t love you. Misery just gets stuck with you sometimes.
I went to Manchester and Leeds for the weekend. I walked down the streets of Leeds, smoked and window shopped till 8pm. I had dinner and then headed to the gig. Didn’t make it in so I went to another gig. We stayed at the venue after the gig was finished and got drunk with some zombies, tigers and penguins. It was more than alright. You could say I’d flat lined if I didn’t have a good time.
I got back at the hotel at around 3 am. I don’t want to sound poetic or smart here but a hotel bed is a lot colder and emptier when sleeping alone than the one at home. Before I fell asleep I ate what it could possibly be, the most peppered pizza in the world. I woke up at 10 am with a stomach ache and a dry mouth. Drank water, took shower, checked out.
12am : Met a zombie at the Leeds’ train station’s parking lot. I got coffee and a sandwich. Had breakfast on the way back home. We made jokes of having loads of girlfriends and how they call me all the time just to tell me that they’re sluts. We drove back to Manchester. Drank tea, smoked and played Red Dead Redemption. “I’m such a slut” could be the punch line of this trip.
Goodbye October, misery doesn’t love company. Misery loves country music, literature and academic reading. Misery loves writing and most certainly misery doesn’t love you. Misery just gets stuck with you sometimes.
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