So as I sit here jabbing away on this keyboard I feel in absolute crisis. A mid thirties crisis. Not a mid life crisis I'll hopefully have that to look forward to in a bit. But at 8.30pm on a Saturday night I've just found myself choosing which jacket to wear to work tomorrow; the camo Armani or the Stussy cardigan and putting some pies in the oven for tea. After trying on the look for tomorrow in the mirror I saw my face and what looked back looked like a bloodhounds funeral.
Yeah I'm getting old but I don't really feel it I feel really youthful at the minute, plus I have bought a few jackets for the winter of which my favorite of the lot is a little neat. Now every time I put one on it brings back a little of my youth and I think people fail to see that. Then why should they?
But what does bother me is I'm sounding old, I seem to mention the weather a lot and complain about disrespectful teenagers and burr my annoyance about the increasing amount of dogshit on the pavements. I still think a can of coke costs 20p and a Mars bar the same and why is bacon so much it comes from a pig and that's a filthy animal, every time I pick up the paper the news is 15% worse than it was the day before and the flashing bastard box of lies called a telly is shouting about something else that's BAD. Is this what the end of the world feels like? It never used to bother me before and I used to shrug it away with a simple "Meh!" but it's giving me a creeping sense of dread I can't seem to shake off.
Time for a change me thinks. First I'll hit me mate Ol up and get some more tattoo's, perhaps a portrait of Maroon 5 on me cock. Then I'm gonna start wearing some jewelery like dookie gold chain with a diamond encrusted fist on it as that's pretty street. Then I'm gonna get me a Mrs, not a dowdy winy English one. This'll be a two hit process, first I'll have it over to Venezuela, Caracas probably as it's fuckin' mental there and it's been a good number of years since I've got up to mischief in a dangerous foreign city and take it from me it really keeps you on your toes. Then pull a new bird who'll be younger than me and look like this
*There's method by getting a younger bird too. As I am an old dog and getting a bit tired I think about the old dog we used to have as a kid, we got worried and got a puppy to mither the shit out of it and we got another seven years out of her. So this should do the trick!
In the short term I might get a new phone, I've not long got one but it's a bit boring and I have a line up for renewal so i might go Android again, the new HTC that's endorsed by Beats by Dr Dre. I'm an arsehole for getting drawn in by things like that.
Plus It'll probably have an app or gizmo on it that will sort out my creeping sense of dread into sort of time table of concern so it can trim things down into bite size flurries of panic instead. Because when my new bird arrives I won't really care about it and when swine flu breaks out again here (remember that one?) I'll take the Mrs and move to San Fransisco or as I like to call it The PeoplesGaypublicOfDuggerfornia. Where we'll just chill by the pool and do 80's style Duran Duran after show party lines of coke through futuristic laser straws!
HEY PRESTO!
* The girl in the picture is a famous jazz model called Gigi Spice, I don't randomly trawl the web looking for Hispanic wives. However I do suggest you google the name as she looks brilliant with fuck all on.
Laters Yeah! I'm off to book some plane tickets and buy some body armour.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Come on then!