Upon clearing out some stuff in my flat, I stumbled on keepsakes I have from High School, which got me thinking about the supposed “best days of your life”. I was never popular in school, never one of the cool guys, never received a valentines card from a secret admirer, if any girls talked to me on a regular basis, it wasn’t cause they wanted to lose their virginity it was because I was a “nice guy”.

To be fair, I was a dork, I had a horrific centre parting that looked like a lumberjack had stored his axe in the centre of my head over night. My glasses, as prescribed by the National Health Service, magnified my eyes to the point I looked like I had two blinking pool balls in my head!

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I’m in a torment of a mood today so it’s time for a good rant. Where shall I start?

Computers. Dell are cunts, the reason I’ve not been posting any blogs for the last wee while is because my laptop keyboards has decided to go on strike. No reason for it, nothing spilled on it, no one banged it, and like a bunch of xenophobic labourers it just decided to stop working. So after spending 50 minutes yesterday on a premium rate number to a potential slumdog millionaire, dell are now picking it up tomorrow, which leaves me using my giant old school tower computer, with a fan that sounds like a butchers refrigerator. Not cool!

Jade Goody.

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“Snog, Marry, Avoid” What sort of TV show is this? I think it’s supposed to promote natural beauty, but girls go on there who obviously have self esteem issues, are an inch thick with fake tan, hair extensions from a Blackpool donkey’s tail, more make up than a Japanese lab bunny and just enough clothes to class themselves as dressed. They speak to a sarcastic, craply animated computer, who then turns them from looking like a whore, in to the far more respectable look of high class hooker, only for them to be interviewed at the end of the show, looking like a cheap slut again.

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If the press is to be believed, a child at 13 has now fathered a baby. Meaning that this youngster was dipping his wee Willie winkie when he was only 12 years old! He looks too young to be served for wine gums. He can’t even officially wet the baby’s head for another 5 years!!!! At first I was just shocked that this could happen in the prudish nanny state that is the UK, after all the British don’t have sex.

Then jealousy. How the fuck did he manage this at 12? I still remember my attempts through my mid/late teens. Eventually finding a girl that wasn’t put off by my home made haircut and NHS glasses, months of dating, making her feel special, “of course I love you”, presents and consistent begging, all in the hope of not being the last guy in the class to lose my virginity. Then all this little wank stain has to do is pretend his playstation isn’t working and he’s the next Hugh Hefner!

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Jumping on the “25 things you might not know about me” bandwagon that seems to be banding about on facebook at the moment, here are my 25.

1. I am so work shy, when I moved in to my Glasgow flat, instead of stripping off the layers of horrible wallpaper myself, I got my mates over and had a “stripping party” – I thought it was genius, they didn’t realise that it was going to be that kind of party.

2. When I was 11 years old I ran away from home as I was sick of not being treated like a grown up. My mum eventually found me hiding 2 streets away with nothing in my bag but a colouring book and pens.

3. The note that I left for mum to say why I’d ran away ended with, I love you, PS – don’t tell dad.

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Today was a dark day in Glasgow, as last night the white terrorist “snowmen” followed through on their religious suicide pact. Children woke this morning to find pieces of their former snow companions’ torsos torn apart and scattered across the family garden. The snowmen, trying to bring their fight for better housing conditions, are sick of being brought to life only to be left in the cold once their creators get bored. A spokesperson for the group said “we will no longer be forced to smoke pipes that lead us to slow painful cancerous deaths; we would rather take our own lives than suffer any longer”

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What a bunch of pansies the British public are. The southerners living up to their softy reputation by closing airports and bus routes. It’s only snow, fluffy and colder rain. The rest of the world love slagging us off for our horrible weather, but the only thing we are equipped at doing with it, is moaning and blaming people for the mess it’s caused. I half expected to pick up the daily mail today for the headline to be, “TERRORISTS CAUSE DISASTER WITH MYSERIOUS WHITE SUBSTANCE”

I had to travel from Glasgow through to Edinburgh last night for the gig and decided to go by bus (because it’s cheaper and I’m a tight arse). You would have thought there had been an apocalypse. People gathering in packs, tutting and mumbling like it was some sort of competition, ranting at the coach co-ordinators. Now to be fair, the coach co-ordinator was so generously proportioned and pale; it looked like someone had put a high visibility jacket on a snowman. I was half expecting Aled Jones to start singing the station announcements

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Last night, went to mums for dinner, was looking forward to a nice home cooked meal and being spoiled. Only to find that she’d bought steaks, knowing that I was the only one in the family that could cook it without it resembling a beef door stop. How rude is that? Inviting me for dinner only to have me cook it for her. Cheeky bugger!!! But all was forgiven, as she did make a pot of her family famous, homemade soup, YUM!

So, how many people couldn’t get to work today because of the snow? I just love how this country is never prepared for the weather. It’s almost as if everyone that works in public transport waits patiently for the slightest excuse to not make it in to work, to which that fucks up the rest of us. You can just imagine the wooden porno style acting as the train driver goes out to his car in the morning – “oh no, there is an inch of snow around my car, I’ll need to call the emergency services, guess I better call work and let them know I won’t be in today, bow chicka waw waw”. Stop being a pansy pants and get your ass in to work.

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Ok, I’ve not written anything on here all week, why? Cause nothing exciting has happened. The only good thing that has come from being out of work is that I spent the first half of the week at my girlfriends doing nice and naughty things. The second half of the week however, has brought nothing but monotony and boredom. I’ve spent so much time in bed that my memory foam mattress now looks like a Chris Henry mould. I wonder if I could use it to clone myself, and then send my brainless replica to work in a call centre with the rest of those high achievers in life?

I’ve been so stuck in my little bubble, I’ve not called anyone, I haven’t watched the news, I’ve hardly even watched TV, I’m too scared. I was flicking through the channels and caught a brief glimpse of has-beens on ice. WTF is Tucker Jenkins doing? Didn’t he die of AIDS? This show would be much better if the so called “celebrities” put the ice skates on their hands and fought to the death. If they can’t save their career, then they should die trying (evil laugh) MWAH AH AH AH AH AHH AHH!

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