Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Happy Christmas Your Arse

Morning.

Sorry for the prolonged absence. I'm sure you've felt that void in your lives because a strange, English man hasn't let you know that his son told him he has an octopus penis (that was Friday) or that his daughter pointed out that she thought it was odd that there isn't a dog food flavor based on whatever it is they lick off their own balls and anus seeing as they seem to like it so much (Saturday morning). I know I've certainly missed the catharsis of sharing the random shit that is fizzing about in my brain. I've not had the chance to mention that I taught my kids last weekend - after seeing it on television - that when an ice cream van plays music that it means they've run out (that's bloody genius on my part, that is). Nor that the worst Christmas present I can think of this year were to be if Piers Morgan released a scent for his one, adoring fan to cack all over themselves ("you too can smell like a smug, vapid twat....").

Anyway - I have been moving house to somewhere where there wasn't anything. No furniture, no accumulate shit and no little things that make a house a home. That drawer we all have that you bung any old crap in? I haven't got one of those. So when I'm fiddling about for batteries, or a pen, or antiseptic wipes to get whatever that sticky stuff is off the bathroom window I've discovered that I have to go buy that stuff. Taken me longer than I expected to get all the basic stuff done. Add I'm working now. So that gaping, portion of time in the day when everyone else used to drive off to offices and abattoirs I think those are the only two options anyway) and I stayed home with the kids, has gone. So now I get the joy of sitting in a cube, surrounded by recycled air and trying to avoid that one weirdo in the building who I think I saw gnawing off the verruca on their foot in the back seat of their car in the parking lot.

Also (and more valid for this whole blogging thing) I have no internet service. That is bar the tiny, faint whiff of it I can get from stealing it from the neighbor. And then only if I sit at the end of my driveway near where the bins are. Add to make me feel like I live in the UK (and not the customer-service haven that the US thinks it is) I'm being repeatedly told by internet providers here that I already have service. Which I transparently don't. Yet amusingly I'm being told that I will need to pay an early disconnection fee and the remainder of the old bill before getting any new service. No amount of, "if I already have service then why am I calling you?" seems to be making a dent. I have also tried, "you can all go fuck yourselves you shower of Chegwins" - but that hasn't seemed to make a mark either.

Anyhoo - being as it's Christmas I wanted to say I hope all of you feel something in the way of joy this year. And, that even if you feel sunk within the mire of life - knee-deep in shit - that you sense that everything is always more or less alright in the end. Life is made up circumstances and other people. But happiness - whatever that concept means - is entirely up to you.

So Merry Christmas and enjoy the Winter Solstice. And if you can figure out what the point of the below decoration is supposed to be then please let me know.




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