We expected great things from you.

it's been ages since i blogged, i honestly thought i had, but i've been doing that thing a lot recently where you're not quite sure which things have happened in real life and which were dreams, it makes life confusing, especially considering i've also been doing that thing a lot where your dreams are filled with fantastic terrors, you know, the ones where you wake up suddenly to find your body shaking a little and the overwhelming sense that you're not quite as alone as you should be [of course that could be the whispering ghost].. but anyway, the two things mix a little unfortunately when you catch yourself pausing mid-dunk of biscuit in tea gripped with the horrific recollection of murdering a 14th century baker, or having a machismo driven one up-up-man-ship session with jack that led to you both cutting out your own livers to prove how much of a man you are. Of course a glance around the room is enough to remind you that you are neither in the 14th century, or sawyer from lost, and the only real tragedy is that you now have soggy biscuit floating in your tea.. which IS a tragedy, the adult equivelent of a child dropping his ice-cream on the floor, and one that has been known to cause tears on many occasions

so i'm writing, as blogs are often written, while i wait for a hangover to subside and hope that i didn't offend or upset a friend with irresponsible words, or worse, make myself known as more of a tit than i would normally deem acceptable titdom. i understand i'm hoping against hope, as i've met me when i'm drunk, and i really am an unquestionable pillock.. which i'm not over the moon about, but i'm willing to live with, as underneath it all pretty much every living soul in the world has the capacity to be a proper pillock, and celebrates this capacity on regular enough occasions.. whether they've spent the evening poisoning themselves or not.. and at least it's better than the old school drunkeness that invariably led to tears and on one occasion a 20minute session interogating a friend aas to why they weren't crying? they said they had no reason to cry and this didn't make any sense at all in my head.. turns out i was crying because Halloween H20 had the wrong girl from Dawsons Creek in it on that occasion.. see, there is always a reason to cry

though i haven't cried whilst drunk for many moon, i fear this means i've become a *shudder* happier individual.. the very thought brings a fear to my soul.. happy? no, i'm neither simple or senile, i think it's just that my insides have stopped producing fuid.. i can't be sick either.. which is a concern

anyway this isn't medical monthly so maybe we should move on

hair straighteners are impossible to use on yourself... impossible

well done for reading this far.. but seriously.. why?

seen as you got here though, you can help me settle an argument with my brother.. we're getting a christmas tree for the flat, it's the first time i've had one in years, partly because the first time i got a christmas tree for my own flat was with a friend who's far away now and i fear seeing one everyday might make me a little sad, but mostly because the last time i got one i discovered it actually impossible to get pine needles out of certain types of carpet and i couldn't walk round in barefeet again till i moved out of the flat, and the landlord had to replace all the carpets on the stairs, yet never mentioned it to me, which is shocking considering the very obvious trail of needles to my flat door.. he was a nice man.

anyway.. yeah... my brother insists that a tree should not be purchased, ereceted and applied with decor until "mid-december", but i figure it's fine to get one now.. the christmas lights are up, the shops are staying open late and i fully expect my mother will be blessing me with a chocolate filled advent calender the next time i see her as she allows me so kindly to cling to that last vestige* of childhood.. so, it's ok yeah? yeah?

thankyou, come again!

*i have no idea what the word vestige means... none at all