I think I am having a moment. Or I am about to have a moment.
Is it really worth it? Do I really like it? I’m not luvvin it, lovin’ it or loving it.
I don’t want to say too much as I know I am very good at foot in mouth syndrome and I am well aware from past history that anyone can, and does, read my blog, including the Russian mafia. And the ex-manager that I referred to as The Internet Gestapo. Though it did help me towards my eventual redundancy I like to think, which will have pleased Sven. And The Met Office. And some shitty US law agency. And a surprisingly large amount of people based in Kensington.
Unlike Gordon Brown, I don’t have a particular destiny in life…oh to be Gordon Brown and know that your destiny is to be leader of your country. I know secretly I am a leader, perhaps even the leader – who knows if I turned evil then maybe nuclear Armageddon would come the next day. But I don’t think that is my calling. Why do I do what I do every day? Is there more to life than this? Those are the questions of the day. Not, do I want a fucking hot drink when I didn’t ask for one.
If anyone from Hull is reading, they would tell me to shut the fuck up or I’ll get a slap. People from Hull don’t choose destinies. They just have them.
Well, I like being different.
But I’m not that different am I? I do the whole 9-5 thing like everyone else. And I’m not exactly feeling the love for it this morning. Oops foot in mouth syndrome again but what am I going to do about it? Actually I was quite enjoying it but I don’t think they are so appreciative of me, I talk too much. It isn’t beyond me to be quiet. I think I can do it. I have music to listen to which helps massively in keeping me quiet. Sven, Ricardo, et al can keep me happy. I don’t need to chat so much shit.
I just remembered that when I was younger, I used to ring random people and when they said hello, I would say goodbye. Gosh, I was a naughty child. And then there was when I called and asked to speak to Mr Wall. When they said there was no Mr Wall, I would ask for Mrs Wall. And then when they said there was no Mrs Wall, I would ask if there were any walls in the house. And then when the said no, I would ask what kept their f***ing roof up.
Always the comic genius.
What do I really want in life right now? I want to go storm chasing in America. I want to experience the power of the tornado. And I want to go to Japan. Don’t ask me why, I just really want to go there. So I guess I need to work to have any chance of doing either. Though on my current wages and more importantly extortionate rent and bills (of my own choosing though), I won’t be doing them any time soon. Unless I stay in every single weekend this year. Yeah right.
So I guess the beat in my head goes on, life goes on, and I will keep doing what I am doing until I win one of the Rich For Life scratchcards or I find that elusive meaningful thing to do with my life, other than of course following in Sven’s footsteps after he subliminally told me via some cheap tacky Ibiza magazine that I needed to follow my dream and become a DJ and set up a my very own version of Cocoon – and two years later I managed it. Kind of. What next?
Anyway, I’ve had my rant, I’ve cleared my mind, two thirds of the world don’t have safe drinking water, 2 million people in the UK don’t have a job that claim to want one, and I can listen to Sven Vath at work all bloody day long. How many people can say that?
Phew, I feel better now. Life can go on. What will be, will be. Have a nice day, thanks for reading.
Until next time, or until I get sacked, jailed or shot by the Russian mafia a la Anna Politkovskaya. Oops. Foot in mouth again.
Oh my word, just 4 weeks until Sven Vath is in London. Oooooh! Please someone come with me. You don’t have to, but it would be nice. Everything I have heard from him this year shows he is absolutely on fire as much as ever – trust me. I’m a DJ.