Nothing In Particular...

[Scorge]

Well, where to start?

I'm probably not alone in saying that I was informed of the porn clerk journo by several folk on the net, began to get sucked in by my own voyeuristic streak at many other users, and have now took the plunge with my own creation. Just three sentences in, and typist's block is already lurking.

Best begin with all the uninteresting, yet essential information you tend to get as the first dozen question on 'those' chain e-mails, mainly to prevent alienation. I'm currently 18 years young, of the male variety, living in the North-East of Scotland (the country that shares a border with England and usually bears the brunt of the sheep-shagging jokes), and spend three days a week at the nearest college studying Accounts. Sad I know - but after sitting some rather evil exams at secondary school two years past, that was the only subject other than Computing that I thought I'd get any enjoyment out of (I am a sucker for number-crunching and repetitive work, I have to admit) and be able to make a half-decent living out of after getting qualified. Trouble is that the first year of the course lured me into a false sense of security - it was so sodding easy. The second year (which commenced last September) has been much, much more difficult - not just because the progression of difficulty in the course, but as you get to know your classmates better, your social life, alcohol tolerance and tendency to skip classes improves. The timetables say there's 6 weeks left - however the tutors want us through the course in 4.

And because I've booked a holiday in London, I need to do it in 3. Bang goes the social life for now.

I'm not currently employed either - my money for the course (and a drumkit, but that's another story) has been funded by the taxpayer this year. I did take an office job last year, but jacked it after the three-month contractual clause through sheer frustration.

I'll be back in the jobcentre soon though, the pennies are beginning to swell up now and driving lessons don't pay for themselves.

Have to stop at that for now sadly, there's a large chunk of taxation homework due in about 8 hours which needs attention. :wishy:

Wish I'd taken computing now.

 

[Scorge]

Like the junkie looking for the needle.....

.... I return for another fix. This could turn into a really unhealthy hobby.

College was the usual snore-a-thon : literally so today, as spending the whole of last night doing sodding homework had almost burned me out. Not even the good lord Red Bull could fix this, no siree. Mind you, I'm almost used to this now - I've been in and out of insomniac tendencies for several years and no sleeping pill or dreamcatcher has quite put this right. All the stuff about herbal tea working isn't entirely true - what the the lord giveth in the form of shut eye, he taketh with the bad dreams that you get. Or maybe it's just that herbs screw up my head, and mine only.

To extend on yesterday, I did perhaps slightly exaggerate about social restrictions in my cherry-taking post from above. Today I savoured a rather splendid pub lunch (and a pint of Guinness, cue much drooling), and towards the end of the afternoon, dished out a thrashing to some of the class on the bowling alley, (a place I have spent too much time, money and consumption of more Guinness within). I don't know why I enjoy the game so much, it's come more naturally to me than say, football ever did. There's also the band in which I play drums for desserts - gigging is a great way of getting out and around, emotional expression through sound, and also blagging free Guinness from the promoter/venue manager/etc. The fact we're hardly brilliant isn't really the point - it's a skill nonetheless and at times, a blessed relief from the constant onslaught of much more cruel reality

Time for bed methinks - just hoping that the land of nod will open it's doors for me tonight.

 

[Scorge]

Took me rather longer than I thought to get back here. But I've been shockingly busy of late.

Saturday night was spent in a place called Moshulu - Sunday to Friday, this is an alternative club playing all of the punk/indie type lark that's going about. Come Saturday though, it's air guitar night - a four hour frenzy of Metallica, Iron Maiden, AC/DC and the like. Not to everyone's taste, but then music never is though, is it? The dancefloor becomes a full blown moshpit - the taller you are, the greater the chance of escaping bruises.

Sunday should have been a chance to wind down and let the alcohol pass through the system unimpeded - instead, BC (a mate from secondary who goes to London School Of Economics) and his sidekick Si were up for a visit and hauled me out bowling (scores : 135 and 113, not overly impressive), to the pictures (film : Anger Management - thoughts: not that brilliant), and after picking up a variety of other faces, off for a meal. After more booze, we headed down to the nearby beach and set ourselves the challenge of climbing one of the watchtowers (a 15ft concuction of wires and unforgiving steel bars). Everyone succeeded, but having a pair of bollocks was a definite disadvantage when climbimg over the final fence. Then we happened upon the playpark complete with aereal slides, see saws and rope swings. Fantastic nostalgia value, took ten years off of me easily.

Needless to say I slept in today, and even after waking, could do little more than the odd household chore and slump in front of the telly.

Lazy bastard, as ever.

 

[Scorge]

Time flies when you're having fun........

I have had a very nice week. Three parties, a night out, a dirt cheap train ticket to London, and the end of college in sight. Friday night could prove to be alcoholic oasis. Again.

After a relatively peaceful weekend, I needed a laugh. Cue Roy Chubby Brown, the most downright filthy comedian ever to grace a stage playing the Aberdeen Music Hall on Monday. I have never laughed so much, not even all the times I've seen a drunken friend throw up over other peoples' feet (or take a slash over the telly/video/Sky digital box, that night was something else) compared. Straight off to Moshulu after that, a night of headbanging so severe that my neck muscles really do not like me, even now.

Anyone specialise in massage therapy?

 

[Scorge]

Absence makes the heart grow fonder....

...and the memory weaker. Two months, no less. I feel like the pupil queueing up the excuse, even though what this whole thing incorporates is of absolutely no significance to anything at all. A combination of many things has kept me away, let's just say.

Anyway, for the update. I went to London. (hooray!) I had a lot of fun. (hooray!) I passed college. (hooray!) The band which I am a part of played a corker of a gig. (hooray!) And yet, despite this overt display of gloss, so much is wrong. The pivot is the lack of a job, and the consequent lack of dosh, and a social life. A heavily delayed transport bursary did arrive (a full three weeks after passing out, no less), which has allowed me to postpone D-Day this far, but now is the time to find something. This should be a simple process, but being geographically castrated with no public transport to speak of is always a barrier (accommodation in town would solve this, but there isn't enough currency for me to do so, catch 22),as is the scarcity of local employment. Thankfully I do not lie down easily, and will doggedly pursue because my life does depend on it.

Should probably seal up a few gaping holes in my character too that you would expect to prop up. There is no opposite sex to speak of at the moment, in fact, the last relationship with such can be counted in months rather than weeks. Thankfully, I do not, and never have depended on the female of the species as much as many others I know, nor do I impose misery on myself when I am without them. It bores me when many of my friends become depressed when they haven't been without women for a prolonged period of time - you expect them to be emotionally afflicted following a break-up, but not when they suffer apparent starvation. It's a mentality I do not comprehend. Especially if the complaint is of a sexual nature - you have a right hand after all. Not the same, granted, but a suitable substitue. I'd say I've had two serious relationships, and only wrapped myself up in them because I felt a type of durability and comfort in them. Lust, I feel, is a destructive and deadly emotion for someone who takes things to the heart more quickly.

And as for homosexuality, that's a no-no for me. I can comprehend an emotional bond between two men, but find a sexual one harder (no pun intended). I think it's God's fault for putting our erogenous zones up our asses. Cruel man, he is.


There's not actually too much else to say. Other than confess to myself that my tastes in leisure have always drawn a gulf with many. Instead of Radio 1, (a monstrosity of a radio station playing all the irriatating, mindless pop and the 'in' alternative music), I'll take Radio 2 (which proves that music was made before 1998, say) , Radio 4 (which proves that a radio doesn't just HAVE to be for music), or Classic FM (which nobody else seems to understand). I've always hated the way most people my age just wrap themselves up in the cool style of the music of the day - why not just enjoy what sounds good on the ear, for that's what music is? If image is the concern, then you should be reading the fashion magazines. I think I shall continue that line of thought at another time. Though make it sound like less of a rant.

Unlike TV, whose standards are so low they are unworthy of critical dissection with my time. Let's just say I'm not a license payer, and never will be.