Dear bint working at the Tesco self service.

Hey it's me. Yeah. can you see me? I'm the guy who's standing next to a big, red, flashing light and a monitor telling me to wait for a member of staff (that's you). I've been here for a while now. You see about 10 minutes ago when there wasn't anyone there? Well there actually was someone there - Me! Fucking me! I was standing there wondering why you're not letting me go.

Yeah, I'm this way. Over here. Why are you facing the other way? Oh, you're talking to your work mates really? They can't be that interesting. They work in a supermarket for fuck sake (That was a joke. I have a few friends who work in supermarkets and they're actually fun, interesting people - mostly).

Oh Right! you're going to help that woman over there. YOU HAD TO WALK PAST ME TO GET TO HER. Bitch. Oh and now you're helping the jakes scan all of their shopping at the top machine. Aw bless, he doesn't know how to scan the barcode on his club card. Fucking help me you stupid skank! Oh! And now you're fixing the abandoned one next to me. How about helping me here before you have another abandoned check out to deal with?

...

Ahh, back to doing nothing again? Good for you. You've had a hard 2 minutes of entering numbers on touch screens. Best take a wee rest before you deal with me. Yeah, take a seat. I'm fine just standing here.

And then she finally came over. I wasn't overly polite but I at least had the self control not to knock her out. "Do you have any ID?" Is she fucking kidding? How could I not be old enough to buy booze, I've been waiting here for 18 years. If I wasn't old enough before, I am now! I have a fucking beard and she IDs me.

I didn't have a beard when I came in.

Tesco's customer standards have plummeted since Lee left

That's right Lee. Every little DOES count.

(That wasn't a joke about him having a small cock by the way. Everyone knows that Lee's hung.)

Martin answered a question... That nobody asked :(

"Man, this uni work is getting pretty stressful. I know... I'll take a break and go onto facebook to calm myself... oh wow a poll/question thing, that's bound to be entertaining..."

2 minutes later...

"Why the fuck has that deselected itself!!! Fuck Fucking fuck!!!!"

"oh look another poll I wonder what possible answers there are..."

2 minutes of reading 'there' in the place of 'their' later...

"Fuck you Fucking Facebook polls! How the fuck is anyone that fucking stupid!?!?"


I wish I could say I was the person who left that comment or at least that I was one of the 3 people who liked it but alas that would be untrue.

I Tidied up my computer Desk...

Now I just need to tidy up my bed...



Right! To Tesco for Relentless and Doritos! I feel an all-nighter coming on...

I'm So Tired

Well it's half 3 in the morning and I'm still awake. Why am I still awake? I just don't feel like going to bed. It's not that I'm not tired. I'm fucking knackered. I just don't feel like sleeping.

Hey! I'm an adult and I've not got anything in particular to get up for tomorrow - I don't have to go to bed if I don't want to. And you know what? Maybe I wont!

But I am fucking tired.

Why don't I want to go to bed? I don't know. Maybe the tiredness has gotten to my head and I just don't care about doing what would make me feel better. I'm comfortable with being awake right now. Why go through the transition from not being in bed to being in bed? It's a hassle.

Just wait 'till tomorrow morning (or afternoon if you're being pedantic). It'll be next to impossible to get me out of bed.

But why would you want to get me out of bed? What possible reason would you have for forcing me out of a warm, cosy bed? On a Sunday of all days!

Saying that, I don't mind being woken up. In fact I quite like it. Just as long as I don't actually have to get up. Wake me all you like losers! I'm not going to get out of that bed. Probably.

This post is 2 days late...

That's 2 days for each year I've been blogging

That's right! Today (well not actually today, but Friday) is the 2nd anniversary of this blog.
It all started with a picture of Leggat wearing a traffic cone on his head and a bunch of jokes about Billy being a paedophile.

Here's to another 2 years of me blogging - Perhaps even 2 and a half years.


(I would've posted a picture to make this post look better but to be honest - after 2 years - the love's gone and it feels more like work)

Go Blog!

"You missed a Video Call from Leggat."

NOOOO!

Fuck you MSN! Why would you deliver such horrific news.

Said video call would've happened about 4 hours ago when I was at the union. It could've been wonderful.

Yeah sure there'd be the awkward stage where I realise that not only is my webcam not plugged in, but it's not even been installed.

It would only take 10 minutes of me staring at an increasingly enraged Leggat before I'd get that started. Then all the camming would be wonderful.

He'd be all like; "LOLOLOL I can see you!" and I'd be like; "lolol I could see you first"
(Because it took like 10 minutes for me to install the fucking webcam)

...

(I had to find a fucking driver and everything)

...

(Not happy)


Anyway, none of that happened because I wasn't there.

All I've got are vivid imaginings of the world that could have been.

Fair well world.



...For now.

Talent Show Reject on a Blurry Screen

So... I pub quizzed tonight. Pub quizzed hard. We even got half the answers right. most teams had more than twice as many people so it was kinda a moral victory.

But I'm not here to blog about some pub quiz - I've done that enough in the past.

What happened after the pub quiz is where it's at.

Leaving the pub quiz, everyone was pretty drunk. "What to do now?" we all slurred at each other in a somewhat aggressive manner. "Why I say, let's go to Liquid" one vomity-sicky voice said. "Good call". Good call indeed.

For those who don't know; Liquid is a nightclub in Dundee. There are probably other ones around the country, but the liquid in question is in Dundee.

So Martin? Why are are you boring us with shitty facts about some nightclub that isn't as good as Undedrground - even after underground put their prices up (the bastards).

Well Martin, (Martin? But I'm Martin. I need to stop posing questions to myself on my blog, it's getting really confusing - especially since I'm half-cut.)

Well Martin, we were going into liquid thinking 'oh, it's Monday, should be nice and cheap.'. £7 to get in! On a Monday! What the fuck!? I was happy to pay it. But still; what the fuck liquid? What the fuck?

We couldn't see what the fuss was until we got separated by a massive crowd of screaming maniacs. I could hear a PA system with a voice saying "Here he comes!".

Here who comes?

Here Wagner comes.

Apparently I'm the only person who doesn't give a fuck about this guy, yet I was within feet of him. I could've bottled him. But he had a guy. Yeah, a guy. Looked hard as fuck. Like Phill Mitchell and Grant Mitchell merged into one massive, bald ball of Eastenders hardness.

Also I throw like a girl.

Anyhoo, I was really close to this Wagner guy. Yet I couldn't give a fuck. I was closer to him than the X-factor judges were when they thought "Yeah, let's bring on another comedy act.". I was closer to him than I was to the Red Hot Chili Peppers when I saw them a few years ago - and I really like the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I was also closer than some genuine Wagner fans and was actually blocking their view of him. I would've moved for them but they insisted on shouting "Wagner" at the top of their voices and blowing out my eardrums. So fuck 'em. I hope they enjoyed watching their favourite talent show reject on a blurry screen.

Wait, he didn't win did he? If he did, that last line doesn't really work. Nor does the title.