The Fightin' Irish

Although not specifically about the Irish populace, of which I have the horrible, horrible honor of being decended, I feel I must relate occurances that have happened to me, because, well, I guess both you and I have nothing better to do.



Try and deny it, but you're readin'.



I never knew that a certain joke was such a devastating reality, in the respect that it could shatter worlds like glass, and puncture dreams like tyres. Tyres being punctured. Not tyres puncturing things.



You got it.



A common joke is often:

"Guffaw, Star Trek is so sought after by nerds its practically a religion"

The reality is, It is a goddam religion.

At least, in the sense that the nerds defend as such.

When someone starts waving knowledge about vulcan mating rituals in your face, you know you have to get out of there as fast as you fossibly can, because that Star Trek motherfucker will destroy your soul, and erase any useful information you had in your brain, and replace it with pure Spock.



I know people are going to say "But Luke, you like Star Trek", and its true, to the degree that I will watch it, and enjoy it in a way that I will sit back and think "that was an programme with good things".

However, I am not devoted to the point that I believe that fans need their own goddam food.



That would be the stupidest suggestion.



My typical reaction is to avoid such people, but lest the situation be unavoidable, I will be forced to take action. No more will a Star Trek enthusiast destroy me on an internet forum. Especially since Its the only forum I take place on, (I think they are stupid) and im using to apparently "make friends" (Its that univesity one).



My blood boils. And not for the usual reasons. Because I stopped eating red meat and full fat cream as a meal.



I stopped hardcore.



-Peace-

He got joo joo eyeballs?

A break from Standard

Its come to my attention that I dislike something.

And, more often than not, when this fatal occurance happens, I am cast away like a piece of pesky litter that has been bothering the caster somewhat for what seems like weeks, but may be days.

The dislike has spurned me to break my promised hiatus to let everyone know, and possibly hate me for it. I dont mind. The haters are probably just angry people.

Angry, maleficant people. My hatred for a certain time of year, or even period of time is about to become what is known in "the business" as "public knowledge".

This shit just got mainstream.



I have a great amount of hate for the space of time known as "study leave".



There you go, I said it! I got it out there! Im insane and theres nothing you can do!

But I have to think, as is my way, that the vitriol I hold towards study leave is born of my own personal vices. This being my incredible talent for doing no work, and still feeling justified.

This is greatly provoked by the other talent i possess, which remains entrapped in my personality despite the recent appearance of brain-chemistry altering items, which is the incredible skill to promise myself a day of work, then continue to promise myself, even though the day is rapidly dissapearing.



I think that the only reason I do not work during this time is because of a lack of deadlines. I work to times allocated to work. I work when working time is designated, not just sprayed around like too much orange juice, and the result being a burden, in respect of cleaning the orange juice away, because its sticky, and hard to lift. Like many citrus fruits.



Im really thirsty.



This problem I have is probably rooted in all of the others, and I think im really wrong. Im aware that today is a bank holiday, and that it is half term this week, so I shouldnt be complainin', but im still angry at a hypothetical situation.



Its stuff like this, isnt it?
Its stuff like this thats making me not work.



Well, you're...just...hm.



Im...
...Im gonna get back to work.



-Peace-

'Cos you'll only end up picking up nickels and dimes.

Yoko?!

Where has the test gone?! we were all okay yesterday, and now its gone! I need to complete the test for next week!

Why'd it have to go, I dont know, it wouldnt say.
I said something wrong,
Now I long for yesterday-ay-ay-ay.



I guess the love affair is over.

I thought we could work it out, I mean, all you need is love. Its not like you need anything else...


Dont judge me. I can lace my things with whatever I want.


Shut up.

Penny Lane.

I never give you my number...

I am unhealthy. In fact, the previous statement is somewhat of an understatement. I am extremely, indulgently, to the point of riskiness, unhealthy.


Its risky.
Risky business.


You dont want to ne CEO of that company...

I have certain touchstones in the respect of dietary requirements. Engorgement would be a word, but somehow I feel it would be somewhat enobling the process with a three syllable word, when I can describe myself with a single, monosyllabic adjective.
Gross pig.
Okay, that was two, but nevertheless, my point stands true, with definite concerns being present in my eating habits. Heart attacks, mostly, but instead I would like to examine the psychological process behind the whole pre-eating situation. My brain thinks, "I have money. This is new, hey, fancy.
What can I buy? What dont I need?"

The two questions are extremely closely linked, probably to the point where if I were to learn how ven-diagrams work, and make one between these two questions, there would be a sure-fire crossover.
However, the latter seems to be somewhat subconscious, with the answer arguably being; "Food. Lots and lots of food.
Put on weiiiiiiight"

And, expectantly, I cant take it. 3 cans of red bull have made me both unfit and scared for my life, as my heart stands on the cusp of defeat.


Ah well. One can only hope that I do not die. From food. Which can happen. Ive seen it on 't telly.


Even though I weigh...(intermission as I go weigh myself)...11 & 1/2 stone.


Water weight?!
Shoes?!

I mean its heavier than the last time I measured myself. Admittedly that was 2005. But still. Its bad. Or nothing to worry about. nothing to worry about. nothing to worry about.


Oh Goats cheese sandwich, You shall be my downfall.


This is a slight anticlimax...

Youve been a great audience!

The Immortal Revelation.

The last few posts seem somewhat disjointed. This is because they are. They are in reverse. When I write, I forget to actually put the blog posts in the blog. Im silly like that.

So forgive me. Or, if youre an atheist, Deny your maker! Both Options are fun!

These things are Silly

Okay, so im not quite on the latter once again, more on a sporadic basis, when my craziness appears to be at its peak. Which is almost never. Rest assured, I am fit and healthy. However, tommorow, its operation time. Probably why i cant sleep, and its actually tommorow instead of the day after thus. Im worried, im scared, and I know im only going under for a couple of hours, but the last few days have been nothing but bad. The weekend of exuberance and relative hedonism served as an excellent culture shock, showing me that right now, in sleepy Somerset, I may be wasting away my greatest years. That is not to say that i do not like it here, and that I do not love my friends and family dearly, with all the love my tiny, blackened coal of a heart can possibly give, because that is simply not the case. All i know is that it is time for a change.



Its time for me to move on and start growing up. No more of this "being able to do stuff but not really". It doesnt suit me. I daresay that when I reach 18, nothing will have changed, and that I will still be the bitter grumpus that I am now, but my resolve to truly meet the life I want will be stronger.



It seems that after the weekend, and my happy times, the heavens decided to take a dump on yours truly with several mishaps that will scar me for life.



1. Being robbed by a person I will never meet, and feeling endangered by every corner of the internet henceforth.


2. Seeing a man flatline whilst I was meant to be taking the man in the bed opposite down for an X-ray.


3. Having all emotive thoughts pushed out of me for an unknown period of time, due to a horrible sight that i will never recover from.


4.

Having the showers turn cold every time i stepped in them for two days

You guessed it, 2 & 3 were at the hospital. They were medically related. It is no surprise that my reality has been shaken by these events. I cannot tell, when thinking about it, wether this is divine intervention, or mere coincidence. Perhaps it is Karma, that after a good weekend, I get loaded with a load of unpleasant things, to event the universe out. Perhaps God, or another deity, is structuring my life to meet these events, in order to show me my own mortality and to make a difference in my life. Perhaps its just one big hoo ha, that im blowing up. Making a mountain out of several horrible, horrible molehills.



Am I supposed to believe in God after this, or disbelieve in him? Am I supposed to start following Karma? Am I being punished for something, or is this a truly important divine lesson, telling me I need to shape up?


It would seem that I have some serious thinking to do.




And because I cant sleep, I have plenty of time to do it.







I guess thats one for the "pro-God" collumn.

Pharmocology

Whenever I feel edgy, or on the verge of panic, or lonely or insecure, Ill just have to accept that its the painkillers. And not my overpowering sense of prospective failure.




OR, that im crazy.



Both are great.










Both pretty much get the job done.