So, it’s August already, although for the life of me I can’t think of much more than a handful moments of unmitigated summerness to latch onto despite all the global warming that is, in fact, no matter what you hear twats from the inbred Tea Party side of things claim, happening. Because what it is doing is causing more water to rise from the sea, move slightly up and to the right, and splash down onto my tiny little head where ever the fuck I should happen to be in any given calendar month. Could be worse, at least there are no earthquakes here, and there is a frankly appreciated absence of lava in my living room.
I did also just return from a frankly epic car journey visiting my grandmother and assorted collection of other more peripheral relatives like my delightful nephew, my other delightful nephew, their respective mothers (one is delightful and not blood related to me, the other is a horrible shrew whose every word is a kind of lie-smoothie oozing out of her pustulant, fetid, vacuous, self-important and heavily alcoholic mouth, and my biological aunt) and at least a picture of the girlfriend of one of said nephews. Oh, and her tiny tiny tiny dog, which was fun because we tied a sort of hairdressers practice doll on its leash and… actually that’s more a kind of a shitty anecdote I’m liable to go to the bathroom and pace over just to not have to fucking listen to it so I’ll leave it out for now. Maybe if things get desperate as this word-diarrhea goes on it’ll pop up again like those floater-turds you just can’t flush down.
That was one hell of an intro though, wasn’t it? Haven’t even said anything of substance yet, but then what fucking blogger out there ever does eh? Eh? Corr, poignant satire. Anyway, one of my nephews is a kind of dim soul, but has a heart bigger than the moon. He also suffers from a serious, serious case of ADHD, so we sometimes amuse ourselves by giving him red bull and chocolate and seeing how far out of our field of vision he can run before he runs out of steam. However, this usually involves calculations that takes into account the elevation of our eyes from the ground and the curvature of the earth, so we started doing it less and less lately for fear that it might actually be damaging the poor sod in a sort of lasting, permanent way. Still, he’s always a laugh even when he’s just talking. He’s got a job driving a truck, transporting something or other, fried goods of some description, I wasn’t really paying attention but to be fair he wasn’t overly keen on me listening so in the end I think we both came out winners from that. He’s got a rather attractive, although lately rather hangover-piss colored girlfriend (I should probably tell her you don’t need 8 months in the year where you get 14 hours of tanning bed time every fucking day). And she’s 17 or something and trying to become a hairdresser.
My other nephew is, like me, sort of a sardonic barb in the family tree. He seems to be very adept at hiding this from his immediate relatives though, blending right in with auntie alcopops and my adorable and lamentably tortured grandmother. See, when auntie alcopops has a drink or two too many, she will hallucinate and call grandmother up, saying that one of us is either pregnant or dead. So we don’t really like her very much, because as time passes it becomes more and more evident she is actively trying to murder the poor old woman.
Well, both of us being somewhat cynical and jaded well before our time, me and this particular nephew like to have a few drinks and solve the worlds problems. In the end, this usually involves getting wasted on San Miguel and just cheering each other up. I cheer him up about being younger than me and not quite as cynical as I am by revealing to him that the global economy is a ticking time bomb and that soon his savings will be worthless (he has a substantial amount of money saved up) and that giving up smoke, drink and making a fool of yourself in front of women is ultimately pointless. “Life,” I will say, but with more slurring and less retrospective eloquence, “is meant to be lived. You have to live while you are alive, not live just to BE alive.” Among these tired cliche’s which I genuinely thank my cousin for enduring I think I paraphrased some Brecht, Shakespeare, David Hume and Percy Bysshe Shelley, and other great writers that any twat who knows how google works can copycat at the press of a cellphone keyguard.
He in turn will encourage me by saying in response to my thoroughly depressing drunken quasi-philosophical pretension, that he appreciates the epiphanies I offer each visit there, and that he will pursue more actively a lifestyle which he finds enjoyable rather than one cobbled together as acceptable by committee. And while I do like that, I don’t like the fact that he effectively has said “thanks to you I will again take up smoking and eating shitty greasy food”. But then, that is basically the philosophy I have been espousing and proselytizing, so I think more than anything that is just a knee-jerk reaction on my part due to mental conditioning from shitty TV attention whores like the mentally retarded Jamie Oliver and other meddling busy-bodies who want to dictate what you can and can’t fucking do with your own fucking life. So in reality, I’m not proselytizing any particular way of life, I’m just saying live your own fucking life regardless of what I say, or what these idiots say. But really, even that is a pathetic excuse at rationalizing so fuck it, come what may for me and my nephew I guess. At least I haven’t ruined MILLIONS of lives by turning them into salad munching zombies who can’t make up their own fucking minds.
Not smoking is fine, I mean I don’t want anyone to say they started smoking because of me. That would probably equate to being called Hitler in today’s socio-political climate. But eating just salad or other health food? Fuck me, that would just suck absolutely all the will to live right out of my putrid meat eating body. I mentioned in passing to myself, as I stared at a television, which I rarely do just to jump to my own defense there: I think there is something unwholesome with the health fanaticism going on which hasn’t been explored yet. Yes, the self-worth of women goes down, confidence, blah blah, but what they don’t discuss is if eating only healthy food makes you really god-awful looking fucking ugly. Some models are ugly as fuck, I mean sure they are skinny but their faces look like if you took a popsicle, carved some eyes into it and then threw it into an active volcano. Say what you want about the benefits of a healthy diet, you can’t jog off an ugly mug. In lieu of this, and because I unwittingly watched more of America’s Next Top Model than frankly it should ever have received in air time from any broadcast company whilst channelbrowsing, I have come up for a new tagline, or slogan if you will: “America’s Next Top Model: You can be ugly as sin, as long as you’re thin.”
Anyway as I mentioned I did come back from a car journey yesterday, and it was 11 hours long so I had a good deal of time to think about shit and listen to the fucking wind because I had in my infinite wisdom only brought 1 CD for the trip and radio was starting to make me suicidal. So here we go, perhaps the first in a long line if disjointed, hardly organized thought-dumps. I bet you can smell it from across the ocean.