Seeing as I am too lame, incompetant and generally lazy to come up with my own blogs, I am going to leave today's blog in the capable hands of my good friend Tony Montana. Tony "It's not cool to be weird" Montana. Mr Montana writes for the same paper I do, albeit a hell of a lot better than I do.
The following the is an excerpt from his coloum, which appeared in the latest addition.
Peopke With the Best Jobs in the World Hava a Whinge, N0 666: The Humour Cloumnist
Sure, at first it seemed like a cushy gig: all I had to do was write a couple of hundred words about, say, the abortion clinic that became an in vitro fertilisation clinic simply by turning the equipment form 'suck' to 'blow'. Then my editor said taht was too offensive - try again. So i wrote a couple of hundred words about some kids who went up to their best freinds house and said "Can Billy come out to play?" "Billy's dead." his mother sobbed, "he got his head caught in the DVD player and was lasered to death." "Okay," said the kids, "can he come out later on?" Then my editor said that didn't make sense - try again. So I wrote a couple hundred words about a divorced family where the son took his mum's "now that dad's gone, you'll be the man of the house" speech way too seriously and was arrested for seual harassment. Then my editor told me I was fired. I never felt so happy in my whole entire life. Now I can go back to my job singing 'Whoomp! There it is!' to tourists.
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I wrote this, the other night in bed. Yes, some of still like to HANDWRITE our mindless ramblings and thoughts.
The greatest problem in your day shouldn't be motivating oneself to take off make up. Rise, out of warm, snug bed after a lazy half an hour of trying to write with my left hand (note to self, don't break right arm) and drawing strange 'interpretation' of my beloved and I. Of course, I've never had blue hair, so likeness isn't very good.
Trying to picture my skin with horrible pimples and wrinkles, which I will have if I don't remove make up. This isn't as much a motivational tool as it may sound. I already have pimples and some wrinkles might help me look my age.
Am currently considering inventing device to remove make up whilst sitting in bed listening to CD's. Possibly give head and neck massage at same time. Think I could become sufficently rich if:
A) had engineering ability
B) was a remotely feasable concept
Looking at my horrible pen drawings, I'm not going 'back to the drawing board'... am having difficulty seeing the point...
This leaves me with a few options. As my life is now at a crossroads and I am reduced to describing it with cliches, I look into the abyss of infinate possibilty. Is it better to have loved and lost than never loved at all? Can things only get better from here? Is there really light at the end of the tunnel?
I have talked before about my 'snooze button' approach to life. That feeling has now disappeared to some extent. I feel now as though I've switched off the alarm, risen out of bed and someone has put the rest of my day in a holding pattern. It seems to me I have to wait an exaggerated amount of time for things... the kettle won't boil, the shower won't warm up, my computer to boot. I guess I will just have to be zen.