Blogging, why?

So, being the mindless, sheep like fuckwit that I am, I have copied my friends and set up this blog. I will no doubt soon tire of writing it and move onto the next shiny new distraction, but for the mean time it will serve as a good way of splattering my ill judged thoughts across the internet like a wet fart.


As I mention in the summary, this is really just the result of finding a way to entertain myself while the tv is being held hostage to the latest horse wank programme that my darling girlfriend is using as a substitute for Valium. Currently on is the crime against humanity that is the film '88 minutes'. I've always thought Pacino was overrated, especially in Scarface. Any film where someone is shot more than twice, doesn't die instantly, and is not a robot, should have all copies stamped into dust and burned. So far the plot makes as much sense as a voluntary weekend in Staines.

My body is currently delivering a stern message in the form of a hangover. A hangover of such intensity that I am barely able to type without wishing to bludgeon my head against the screen until the agony is ended with the sweet release of death by blood loss. This was all well worth it however, initiated as it was by a dinner party on a scale I have not witnessed previously or, judging by how drunk I got, will be invited to experience again. There were seven courses. Each of them exotic and so delicious I genuinely felt like I was having a shuddering orgasm with each bite. I can't even cook food in seven different ways. The only way I could compete would be to lace some baked beans with class a drugs. Which is not a bad idea. Crack pizza anyone?

Right, bored now. And Top Gear is on. Assuming I don't die of liver failure during the night I will reassess this blogging nonsense tomorrow.