Okay, so I've made a few wee resolutions about this week
Basically, I've been looking over my posts from the past while and they've all been a bit...well, whiney. Whingeing and moaning is fun, but I've been rather self-indulgent with it, and should maybe man up a little and repress those little (and large) negative feelings down, only allowing them to re-emerge in later life as a massive stroke or a shooting spree with an automatic weapon.
So from now on, well, for this week anyway, I'm going to be known as Happy-go-fucking-lucky McPositive, my new name for the week starting Monday 9th of November. I'm going to make a physical effort to smile, to be happy and to make light of stressful situations.When something bad happens (like falling down an escalator and losing my wallet, or being mugged by a flock of pigeons or something) I'll laugh it off, it's all going to be a massively hilarious joke.
I'm also going to see if I can refrain from drinking and smoking for the week. I probably have had more than enough chemicals in my body for the last couple of months for my liver to have earned a week's respite. If I manage to get a job and actually seem to have kept it by Friday, then I'll reward myself with a pint, but not before that.
I've been watching The Thick of It quite a lot recently, and have to admit that I massively admire Malcolm Tucker; the absolutely apoplectic Scottish 'Enforcer to the PM' who goes around telling the entire political world what a cunt they are. Other than being a huge fan of Peter Capaldi thanks to the amazing 'Local Hero', I think that he's one of the greatest comic creations in the last decade, and defintely Armando Iannucci's greatest since Alan Partridge. I'm going to be like him for the week; infallible, but slightly less crazy-angry.
So, to begin the week, I've got a really random quote from a conversation I had earlier today. I was chatting to a friend (with whom I had gotten apocalyptically drunk with on Hallowe'en) who had laughed at my 'Waterloo Fail' story and invited me to a party. She had mentions it before and this was my response:
"What, the farmyard theatre with the he-she stripper and the dwarf pole dancer who spits piss at people?"
So yeah, I didn't go, but that sentence reminds me that life is bizarre and potentially amazing, even if it's just to sit back and wonder who wants to have dwarf-piss spat at them.
Maybe the week will answer the question...who knows?
Have a good 'un :)
ps - Actually I do know, at no point this week will I have any interaction with dwarf piss. If my internet arrives, as it should do on the 12th, I will celebrate by watching a dwarf-piss porn vid, or maybe by just pretending to watch it while closing my eyes tightly and trying to remember the contents of section 2 of the Irish Non-Fatal Offences Against the Person Act.