What can I say? 24 hours later I have a bag of food and been to the gym again. It can't get less exciting than this and at least you're only reading it. The dreadful stories of old people looking after themselves at 80 plus while their friends and families are busy or dead shouldn't happen in your 40s. So with the life of a geriatric I tell stories like one. Without the toilet reports. Yet. There's a TV character I remember, from King of the Hill where Bobby the son does an old Jewish man (from a Texas Goy you can see who writes the script) and I suspect that could be me. 'How should I know, I've had no intestines since 1964' etc. But those old people have had 60 plus years of productive lives but I stopped producing long before then, except for blog posts, and as my father says, any council estate yob can do that. Or my late grandpa. He wanted more from me for sure. I had a law degree, he wanted me to become a lawyer. I played the piano, he probably wanted me to be a concert pianist. But while he was alive I nearly always worked including 6 years of teaching which he dismissed as a waste of my degree. Go figure.
Thank goodness my few counselling clients get something from my tiny number of working hours, quality not income. And the hundreds of jobs I applied for prove my intentions. I'm ordering more photo prints this week and possibly some enlargements with nowhere to put them. At 5'5'' many women say they'd like an enlargement of me but they can fuck right off. On the screen women can't see how tall a man is so can't judge on that criterion. Men aren't concerned with women's height so why vice versa? I don't make the rules. Rupert Murdoch does that for most of the words besides Kim Il Jong in North Korea. If that's his name, I may have mixed him up with a footballer. Imagine 50 years from now some internet sites will become world classics. Not mine I suppose, but a few great authors will become famous from the internet, like some of the musicians except they were promoted by millions by their record companies unlike unpaid writers.
GCSE English 2050. Great writers of the internet. Urban dictionary. 'Man who screws another up the arse while bent over'. That will replace Shakespeare and Milton in the new English literature of the millenium. Tabloid classics. What light from, like, yonder window breaks, innit?
Cack cack bloody cack. The world is melting into hell day by day. And I leave you with the punchline. Following years of stories about global warming, we have finally got the result. Higher taxes. What a surprise. To prevent a positive fuel saving potential scenario only seen on articles by bribed scientists we will pay higher taxes. What? Where's the cause and effect there? Global warming = higher temperatures = using less fuel to heat the world. So they want to stop it, as if they even could? Morons accept it unquestioning and as all three parties agree you can't vote to stop it. All the bloody same and we can do sod all about it. Lovely world when run on lies and corruption. Nobody criticises these twats for being unemployed, they just get paid for stealing our money. Give me unemployed.