I’m a 33 year old Villa fan, a Long-term Office Monkey and father of a 4-year old that can shoot lasers from his eyes. I am skint, 85% generally happy and when I’m high I want to stay that way, and when I’m 15% low I just want to crawl in a hole and everything and everybody stay the fuck away.
Life is a narrative played out in my head, but the narrator only tends to show the fuck up for the really important gigs or to read the days notes at the end. In between I’m left to my own devices and sadly it’s only ever at times when the real world demands my presence – a job; shopping; writing letters to utility companies and budgeting – none of which I can find a short cut around.
I’m classed by some as lazy, others as intelligent, the rest as both. I think it’s more that I’m chronically disinterested in unimportant things and very interested ininteresting things within the periphery of my surroundings.
The world doesn’t owe me a living, but it sure as fuck can loan me a life. I’m not interested in hiring the most expensive one; consider it a jacket. I’m not after the best quality, but I want it to be a bit different, warm to be in and cool to look at (not saying that it is; Christ on a bike if my real jackets are anything to go by then my mates would struggle to walk to the shops and back in one without collapsing in shame). If my karma repayments are the frequent fuck-ups, occasional missed opportunities and periodic disaster I can live with that as long as no living beings are harmed during the filming of the show.
Thanks for visiting and reading this. It’s here because I enjoyed writing it and if it made you see things in a slightly different way then I’m really happy.
