Have I got anywhere?

Being on a hamster wheel means you do a lot but get nowhere. OK, I have helped a couple of others this week which counted for them, but my own activities just provided more photos of new bus routes and stations. I may well advertise for a woman again, having realised I can specify where I want to go out as well as who I want. You get replies from people who are interested anyway, not who you want. Just say nothing about them as people from around the world will reply regardless as well as all ages and other variations. You just eliminate all the dross first time round and then deal with what's left. Internet ads don't work for men, and newspaper ones vary depending where you advertise, but can produce a flood of calls. None got me anyone but spend days on the phone saying the same things to each person, met one I liked first, saw her again, got dumped and as the others weren't as nice let them go.

I will mention I'm not reading as many blogs as I used to for one main reason, as soon as I link one sooner or later it's taken offline. Where does it all go? If I stopped blogging (when I die) I'd never delete all my work. What a total waste. So people I've got to know and interested in just vanish and are gone as if they were in a dream. It takes time to replace with equal standard so am getting fed up with the effort involved. I will also admit (like I hide it) I'd be the happiest person around if a newspaper printed something from here, as many do randomly. Fame is in my DNA and don't give a damn how I get it. It's the benefits I want and the route is irrelevant. Unlike Paris Hilton I did learn piano for 10 years, had guitar lessons, a few years drama classes and used to write and put on plays at school. All that slowed down during my studies but the impulse never left. So now I have the time but not the union card I can't do it the normal way so need UFOs, blogs or anything else I can squeak into the business with as I'm not able to go for auditions like the pros.

I have worked my way through more little jobs including a couple of work bookings for the first time in over a month. More next week and some have proved less straightforward than expected. Crooks, liars, cheats and useless sods all make life busier than it needs to be but will always be part of it. The buttheads that let me sell my postcards in their cafe and then let them all be pinched (including the box) meant I was paid in full even though they didn't get it. Their fault, my profit. But I'd never put them there again. I'd rather have waited and got the money properly and then done some more but it had to be complicated.
Needless to say every business and pleasure message sent has been blanket ignored, like written in invisible ink. The reaction of women to my emails is presumably either total ignorance of who I am or far worse complete disgust. I was a pain when I was a teenager but got it out of my system. I was tactless, crude and not much of a gentleman. The ones who understood me got my good side and never minded when I showed the other, but many kept well away and fair enough. But I know none of the people back then are likely to be the same as they were as we've all grown up, except the one who everyone I know is currently avoiding although I always enjoyed his total lunacy. He's actually a very nice guy but has no boundaries. A bit like looking in a magnifying mirror...

Well hope is a word only in a dictionary as far as I'm concerned. Gone for me. No reason for anything to improve, the TV programme is invested in so is in their interest not mine to fix up, but otherwise I've planted dates in the arctic. I will continue to collect pictures of public transport, houses, signposts and other local minutiae, and keep looking up old girlfriends until it's in the obituary notices. Two down that road already so no doubt more will follow, plus one of my best friends till he left for boarding school. The aliens continue to send the world's channelers messages and keep me entertained but besides scientific and historical data they refuse to show themselves in person. Better than smoking or taking drugs though. Only our minds get screwed with.