Hangovers and Social Pornography

It's not like I'm the only person in the world who gets these but today id have prefered vicious Goat rape in my left ear, which by all accounts is my less favourite ear however i do not wish rape upon it, but instead of beastiality of the ear im stuck with the usual paranoia and the fact I've got more left over make-up on me than middle age hookers who have seen better days. The reason for that last one, was that it was my housemates birthday party last night where the theme for dressing up was things begining with G. A few rejected ideas before I carry on included Genocide, Gestapo, Git and various other implausble and frankly offensive ideas, but then I do associate primarily with some pretty warped people in the humour stakes. Finally after no effort whatsoever I went as the Goth prostitute who'd got into the cosmetics counter in Selfridges, fashionable yet slaggy.

And thou shalt definatley not watch programmes such as Skins, as it makes this lifestyle seem humourous and oh so cool with a bizzare sense of being punched in the face for an hour of pretentious pretty kids, whos lives resemble what a 30 year old screen writers imagination of a students life is. Looking like a dishevelled Amy Winehouse, bumming cigarettes and waking up find you've eaten moudly bread and all you can manage to do is think about water or poorly played out sexual scenarios which you can't hold in your head anyway. When this is shown on tv it appears fancy and something which can be shown on a poster that makes people slow their car and have a butchers and think ooh that looks realistic. I'm thinking of sending these people who pitch these programmes a picture of me with my underwear on backwards trying to find my glasses stepping over a horse mask and smacking my head off a desk, hopefully they shall pick it up and I shall become a one tv show wonder who loses his youth soon enough and falls back into the life of "that bloke who was on tv once". They get in early and they get out even earlier. I'm waiting for ex-teen star suicides on channel 4 handled in a sad documentary style where your meant to feel sorry for these icons of showy perversion whos life can be summed up in a song by John Cooper Clarke song "Twat".

Suicide notes from the rich and famous: presented by Derek Acorah

I like the sound of that actually. So why is being a discraceful mess such a good life to aspire to? night outs judged on how terrible its been. "I literally fell down and smashed my teeth off a kerb, I was so wasted it was like soooooo funny", a sotry non too disimilar you'll hear every monday morning in coffee shops, student unions and bus stops and wherever wankers inhabit. Any story starting "and i was so drunk..." should end with the story teller being destroyed in an "accidental" stabbing. I'm not sure even being a youth why it's good to be youthful, I think it lies in the fact that at least your not a pensioner yet.
And now im off to be ever so cool and nurse my headache like the narcasist with god complex that I am.

Tracksuits and Casuality

Chris