So ladies and gentlemen, Something was keeping me awake last night, was it the the thought of world hunger? the plight of the Panda? or the Double Vodka and Redbull i had before i went to bed? (I find alcohol solves all the worlds problems and eases my very small conscience) And so I got thinking about my blog, had I been to harsh on the people I see daily on my commute to work? Then I thought no, they are shit stains on the underwear of life. But I came to the conclusion that no matter what I write nothing could ever do them the true justice they deserve. So I have collected a few pictures, that i believe accuretly represent a good cross section of the people i get on the bus with, so you can make your own judgements ( I am not usually one to fill this ‘blog’ full of pictures, because frankly I am lazy and can’t be bothered, but I decided I would make an extra special effort)…enjoy
David started at out company a couple of months before I did. He was the first thing I saw when I walked in. I thought he was the janitor, he was dressed like a homeless person, and smelt like a homeless person who had shit himself, then rolled around in a bucket of sweat. After approximately 7 minutes I realised that his actual job was as a potted plant. David or ‘Dave’ as he liked to be known has the personality of a brain Damaged gold fish, he was so far removed from reality I am not sure if he had an active imagination, or he was on meth. We never really got close, mainly because of the stink, but also because we had nothing in common. He was the type of person that wrote his name on all his office stationary, who would be anal about your time keeping, even though he was not the boss. I received a couple of warnings for taunting him, one was Sticking all his beloved stationary down with super glue and laughing so hard I had to open the window for fresh air. Dave’s main skill was wearing shirts the same colour as the office walls, he is also an expert at sitting very still. Before he started working with me he held a variety of positions including standing, crawling lying down and standing on tip-toes.Dave once saw a horse. Dave’s favourite sport is Jenga; His favourite music is that which he creates himself by humming and clapping.
Anyway, Dave is currently single, but hopes one day to marry his mother because she has ‘childbearing hips’.
Dave has been single since he was dumped by his girlfriend, after she ran off with her ski instructor while on holiday in the French Alps. I know this because Dave confided in the office gossip that he was having ‘relationship issues’ so everyone knew with n the hour that she had slept with a sexy French ski instructor.
I have never been skiing. Speeding down a mountain, probably drunk, towards big rocks, while posh people high five each other, while saying woo, is something that surprisingly, has never appealed to me.
Dave has been even more miserable than normal due to the “incident”. I have had enough and decided I have to do something about it. Internet dating is all the rage, so I have signed Dave up to a couple, and over the next few weeks ill be posting conversations I have as Dave. The profiles I set up will go something like this…. He is on Tinder already…
First name: David
Surname: Will not give away that information for security reasons
Star sign: Glotten, the dyslexic elf.
About: Non-Smoker with cuddly body type
Details:35 year old male, 6′ 1″ (185cm), Religion is stupid
Intent: Looking for a relationship 1 hour a day, don’t be so clingy
Personality: Sith Lord
I am Seeking a: Woman or a woman like Ork
For: Some loving
Do you drink?: Yes I brew my own cider, its the best in Leeds
Marital Status: Single
Do you do drugs? If I have a headache I take some Paracetemol
Pets: A Few spiders in my Basement, named Paul, John, Ringo and Steve. Head lice.
Hair Colour: Labrador blonde
Do you have a car?: No I have a push bike, with a roomy basket and a bell
Do you have children? Probably
Longest Relationship: Always been a player
How ambitious are you? I want to rule the earth and one day I will, come join me and be my queen
Turn ons: Vengaboys, Bill Shatner, room temperature, flicking light switches in a smooth motion. Getting my hair ruffled by a cool northerly breeze.
Turn offs: long queues at the post office
Eye colour: Hypothermia blue
My ideal woman: I am into many different types of women, all colours and races considered. The only exception is Asian women, I find them hot when they are young, but they don’t age well. I am preferably looking for women with 7 piercings in each, a slipknot tattoo between her toes, but I can be flexible with the amount of piercing pers ear. I love toast, I get through around 2 loafs a day. It’s real toast, slightly burnt. I need someone who can make toast, not just warm floppy bread that someone has just sat on. I do not want anyone who just wants to use me for my body!
Weird Crush: Des Lynam
Strangest experience: Being robbed by a pre-op transsexual.
Favourite sexual position: The risk. Where you look at your porn after your mum says your dinner is ready, trying to climax before she come up stairs because she thought you didn’t hear her.
Favourite way to relax: Some loud death metal, a bath with candles and Lavender infused bubble bath so help me from a stressful day dragon slaying.
I’m Dave,I love world of war craft, I love the fantasy aspect, I have such a vivid and creative imagination, my favourite character is Dobbie the house elf. But in the free hour a day I have after I have finished slaying the evil Voldermort, I would like someone to stop me being bored. The photos prove I live a fit and active life style. I am never short of female attention, I kiss lots of women. Sometimes we eat pizza and debate which is better, Star Wars or star trek? But as we all know it is Star Trek, only and idiot would like Star Wars, but mostly we kiss. I have been told my beard and moustache tickles when I kiss, which the ladies love, my breath smells of pizza, and who doesn’t love pizza? I love the beach and was probably a jellyfish in a past life. I like to go to the gym at least once a week, as my dad works there stocking vending machines. I love German cinema, my favourite German title is currently ‘Gunter does Dortmund’ I have not managed to finish it yet as my mum does not go out much. I get many offers so you have to do something very impressive to stand out, and many girls becoming infatuated with me so quickly. Often a girl would tell me that she would rather have her arms ripped off than live with out me.
Everyday I go for a hundred mile jog along the beach and swim back. I have been asked to do male modelling, but I am to busy jogging swimming and having lots of girlfriends who I kiss. I do not want to be responsible for girl buying the magazine and having her boyfriend turn homosexual. I did have a cat named Hermione, but she is no longer with us bless her soul, but her memory still lives on, I had her stuffed, after I took a part time taxidermy course on YouTube. She has pride of place on my mantelpiece.
My ideal first date: My idea first date would be meeting at the KFC of your choosing. We would both be wearing a red rose, so I knew who you were. We would share a Bargain bucket with extra gravy, on a quite table surrounded by candles, I would pay my half. We would get our laptops out and battle it out to the death as Level 52 hobbits. The winner would make breakfast in the morning. If I lost I can safely say my mum will make us the best eggs in town, although you would be expected to wash the dishes after, it’s not a hotel.
So I was thinking about past relationships, and in general how societies nutters tend to gravitate towards me. As my mum says I “just have one of those faces”, when I remembered a few arguments I had while In the doomed relationships.
My ex girlfriend Rebecca could not, and will never be able to cook. She was capable of the process of cooking (sort of) but cannot cook in the same way that an octopus cannot ride a bike; it has enough arms to reach the pedals and handlebars but the result will rarely be a successful journey from A to B. She was also a vegetarian. You have to be careful what you say these days, apparently you’re not allowed to call a certain group of people queers anymore. You have to call them . I don’t have anything against , but the way I see it, our food shits and pisses on there’s.
I once looked over Rebeccas shoulder to discover her crumbling Alka-Seltzer tablets, or the cheaper supermarket alternative, into a meal she was preparing because “they are salty and we ran out of salt.”
“The nachos were a bit runny so I added a few cups of water. It’s nacho soup,”
“Is there even such a thing?” I asked. “And what are these bits in it?”
“They’re the crisps,” Rebecca replied defensively as she sipped a spoon of Nachos and made a long “mmmmmm” noise. “I put it all in the blender so there shouldn’t be any big bits.”
“I’m ringing for pizza,” I said.
“That’s not true” I responded, “I appreciate everything you do but if I ordered a hamburger at McDonald’s and they handed it to me in a cup with a straw saying ‘Sorry, it was a bit runny so we threw it in the blender and added two cups of water, it’s Big Mac soup’, I would assume the restaurant was entirely staffed through some kind of special needs employment initiative. If they asked me, “Do you want fries with that?” I sure as fuck wouldn’t reply, ‘Yes, mix them in.'”
“It would probably be quite good,” “but you would never know because you are too much of an asshole to taste it. Even if the guy at McDonalds spent an hour in the kitchen making it for you and burnt his thumb on a saucepan.”
While I was on the phone to my mother, as it was Mother’s Day, my mum jokingly, knowing full well what I am like asked if Rebecca found me annoying or amusing. Of course I said she found me a total hoot, Rebecca yelled from the kitchen clearly audible to my mum and no doubt half the street, “Don’t fucking lie.” My mum asked me “Was that Rebecca?” to which I replied, “No, it was the television” and Rebecca yelled out again “No it wasn’t.” On one occasion, I decided we should call in sick, so that we could spend the whole day in bed together, On Monday morning, as I was about to call my boss, using my best sick voice to explain how I could possible of attracted Ebola, Rebecca was watching a program called Breaking Bad in bed while I was making the call in the next room. Not realising I was on the phone to my hard asse boss, she yelled “We should build a Meth-lab in the garage.”
I came over to visit Rebecca after work one Tuesday, to discover a framed photo of our dog on our living room wall. I like our dog but when I am home, so is the dog. I don’t need to see photos of it. Especially if the photo shows the dog sitting on the couch that is immediately below the framed photo and the dog is actually sitting on that couch at the time.
Sitting down next to the dog, I grabbed a magazine from the table and flicked through until I came to an interview with tom cruise. The facing page featured a photo of Tom in a suit, sitting on a chair with one leg crossed over the other, holding a glass of red wine. Ripping out the page, I replaced the photo of the dog in the frame with it.
When I met
in a bar in Los Angeles, I asked him what annoyed him most about being famous.
“That’s easy,” he replied, “It’s all the libellous things that people write about me.”
And then he got down on his knees and sucked my cock.
Arriving home a short time later, it took Rebecca less than fifteen seconds to storm into the kitchen brandishing the frame and demanding, “What the fuck is this?”
“It’s Golden Globe award winning actor Tom cruise” I replied.
“Yes, I know who Tom cruise is, Where’s the dog?”
“It’s sitting on the couch,” I replied, “It’s always sitting on the couch. And having a photo above the couch of it doing so is weird. We may as well put a photo on the wall of all three of us sitting on the couch and then sit on the couch and look at it. Or put up a mirror.”
As she stormed back out in search of the missing photo, Rebecca said over her shoulder, “It’s not as weird as having a photo of Tom cruise on the wall.”
“I like Tom cruise,” I replied.
“Well I like the fucking dog,” Rebecca yelled back, “If you love Mr cruise so much why don’t you marry him instead. Then you can put up hundreds of photos of him.”
Which is a ridiculous statement because if I was married to Tom cruise and saw him everyday, I obviously wouldn’t need photos of him on the wall to look at. Also, if I was married to Tom cruise and we had a bare wall, we could probably afford a professional interior designer who knew what they were doing.
“She only blinks with one eye” “Erm I think she’s winking bedders”
” Lou Bega sang ‘mango number 5″
“the Sopranos is about some Mexicans”
“What’s the plural of Doritos?”
Me: “it’s @brianblessed” Her : “is that the fish finger man?” Me “no Bedders that’s captain Birdseye”
“Why did they never make Titanic 2?”
Even if i do hate the general public i will be your best friend forever and ever if you have a quick read of my rants.