Wednesday, 26 November 2008

Let Us Eat Pie

There was a rugby match on. They are going to get trashed and customers were not happy. It's too noisy and I had no place to park with my sarny. Paul's watching the game and I couldn't be bothered to bug him while fat boys yell at lumpy players in white and red uniforms.
 
Shall I just chug a lager in the corner while munching prawn mayo on brown? I stood in the bar and frowned. Was it a 1 wonderful idea to do that before driving back to home? I was sure Paul would find that a liability. Um, not that I cared about that.
 
It was a funny day. More than half of people ordered steak and ale pies, one of which gave me a French lesson, then so many people had Banoffee pies for the afters. It was not that cold, that day, but you could smell the winter in the air. I bet all of these people got up in the morning and felt like brisk walks in woods, before coming to us for hearty pies and tooth melting banana pies. If it wasn't for the free sarny, I would have done the same.
 
No, actually, no, I still would. Why don't I just stuff my face with cream and banana, to sooth weeping soul of mine. I turned to my boss and said,
"Hey, boss, would you give me a giant cup of tea, if I buy your famous Banoffee pie?"
He replied,
"Hey, why don't you work for a bit longer and I will buy you the pie. In that way I get to watch Chelsea play"
 
Deal. Done and sealed. I mentally shook his hand and stayed for 30 min.
 
Rugby viewers were getting quiet. Well, RSA was good. Even I knew that. And boss was long gone. I guess Chelsea was kicking some arse to lose Liverpool for good.
 
In the end I sat down with a piece of pie filled with browned condensed milk and cream with some bananas, and was weeping from the eyes with joy. The pie was SO sweet and nevertheless mind numbing, my soul was now laughing.
 
Paul snuck up on me and stood by me, looking smilingly at my ecstatic face, and muttered something about the match. Then said,
"So, you had a row with your mother?"
"Ohh, yessir, I hate my mum."
"Oh no, you don't."
 
Thus it went. Anyway. It was nice of him. It was a lovely afternoon over all. What a difference a pie and a pal make. Thank ya all.

Friday, 21 November 2008

No!!

I can't go on, I had enough, this shouldn't be the way, I just want to forget everything, just want to go away, why am I ill and why should I be penalized for it, am having a worst month of this year and it's tough and who fuck cares its already tomorrow, fuck my boss, fuck the economy, fuck the lottery and fuck my flatmate, fuck my ex, fuck. Just fuck off.

Yes!!

"Don't you ever get tired of bitching about that work you hate so much? Why don't you just quit your job and get a new one if you are that unhappy?"

Well, my mum did not raise me to be a quitter, but did raise me a moaner. I can complain but I won't quit. Quitters are worse than losers. I can continue to be a loser but will not quit being a loser.

But, hey, maybe, just maybe, that IS the answer. Maybe I should just quit. I HATE my job. I hate my life while working that job. I HATE my bosses and everyone around them, and I HATE the fact they all hate me and that I am making them do that.

YES! I am moving. I am going to the states. Sorry, US, you have to take this scum of puss of inhumanbeing because UK had enough of it. YES, I am coming, it's decided!!

Tuesday, 21 October 2008

Deny Me and Be Doomed

So I sat my friend down, basically told him that it is not his business to say whether I am closed up or not. It is absolutely none of his business to tell me to get out and get laid, when I am saying that I don't want to.

I added to say that I have a right to remain boarded up after everything I went through, hoping for him to have full knowledge of my history and episodes. At this point he chose to tell me that my shit is nothing worse than anybody else's, and since everybody else moves on (to get laid) instead of stalling and mope, I should be doing so, too.

Ohh, OK. You went to the place you should never have. You just said my mental break downs and years of malfunctioning is just me over-reacting. You have just defended all my exes (of all-sorts) and told me to move on like a normal human-being. You have disregarded half of my life in 3 seconds.

"I cannot believe you just said that, you are supposed to be my good friend!! How could you say that I didn't go through enough shitty situations to be like this?"

I yelped.

"That's not what I said. Why do you always focus on negatives?"

He protested. I don't care any more. The damage is done. You went too far.

This is exactly why I don't have a friend. This is EXACTLY why I am alone. Go on, deny me, entertain me, be doomed. Just do it.

Friday, 17 October 2008

Well, Here is the Thing...

So my friend is trying to hook me up with the electrician who comes around to our place to fix things now and then. The electrician guy is really nice (personality-wise, not rear section-wise, according to my friend,) but is 14 years my senior, has 3 kids and divorced, then went in and came out of long term relationships. This is what I call the "bad on paper" type. My friend is really pushing me towards this guy, and although I am thankful for the attention (D is single, she is a nice person and deserves a really nice guy!) I have to stop and wonder if this is all flattering that my good friend is picking THIS guy, while really hoping for us to happen.
 
So, yeah, electricians make good money,
and apparently he is looking,
and he is dead nice.
 
I have to stop and wonder if I am being a stuck up here. And I have to think if my friend is just simple, and gullible, to determine his niceness after knowing him for 45 minutes. Should I be grateful for this??? Why can I not have someone who is not second or third hand? Why is THIS guy supposed to be the very best, so much so my good friend could barely contain the excitement when "we" are on the subject???
 
Kinda pissed here.

Wednesday, 1 October 2008

Over

So our pub has finally joined the rest of 34 pubs a week closures in the UK. It was a tiny part of English history. We are losing pubs, and government and NHS would put other things before this tradition of the country. Well, that's fine, I guess that's healthy.
 
We are down to almost nothing in the end. The pub was sold to the Asian folks who would take it over and change it to a posh curry house. They did not want to take stocks over, so basically everything had to go. Fosters 2 quid, no bitter, no diet Pepsi, quid a shot if we have it.
 
Everyone said, "Oh that is a shame," what else would anyone say? People just stayed for hours like a lingering odour. What else do you want to do in a lazy Sunday afternoon in a pub that's closing down forever in a few hours?
 
Girls were exchanging phone numbers. I got a few, too. And some more from customers (sorry but I will never call you.) Girls were making promises to keep in touch, I am well aware they will never been met. I hugged a couple of them good bye, because I liked them well enough, even though I was fairly sure that one of them was hitting on me.
 
Daughter of the owner and her friends came, ate ice cream, had some wines, and eventually left. It really was getting to be over.
 
I sat down with the owner, with a glass of red, in a semi darkness, I was crying because I was grateful to be there at that moment. It is a shame, and we must move on, and I will remember that moment fondly, because it was part of us, that was on the way out, complete out.
 
Good bye FOX. Thanks for everything.

Saturday, 9 August 2008

Trippin’ Mug

So I was on a holiday of a life time with a person who meant so much to me. I took a loan and took this holiday, it was a symbolic trip and meant a new start for both of us.
 
After the landing I was paying for drinks, sandwiches, and tickets, soon I realized that I had not seen his purse for a while (let's just call it a purse when is carried by such a wuss.) In fact I had not seen his purse since we have left the city. I mean, yeah I made him come out for the trip, and yes, I have promised him a good time, but don't you even pretend to take it out when the bill arrives at the table?
 
What was increasingly annoying was that this guy had no hesitation whatsoever each time we sat down for a little break. First thing he asked for was a pint, followed by a full sized portion of local cuisine.
 
I was too happy, in fact, to complain. I was in an over-blissfully ignorant state even for my own goodness. He carried on spending my borrowed money. I carried on looking after him everytime he craved for goodies. Anyway, it was too late to back off then, we were already out there, what was I supposed to do?
 
I sort of knew that he had been lying to me every damn day leading up to the trip, so he can squeeze some milk out of me. The milk here being dough, rather than honey juice. I knew his mates were calling me sugar-mommy. I knew his friends looked at me and him thinking,
"You've done well, son. If you tolerate this creature while holding her hands for more than 30 sec and telling her she is a beautiful person, then you deserve nothing but these gifts!"
 
He cooed me and conned me, tricking me into thinking that it would lead to some future. After all, there was a matrimony involved, and I did not think anyone whisper love and promises with such a little regards to reality. I just thought that he was using all of my money, because he was planning to pay me back when we start this new life we have been talking about. He is going to graduate and will get some job he loves and enjoy, then we will have life together where he will be looking after me without breaking into MY savings all the f-in' time.
 
But, you know, told ya so, I am a mug. It was not even a month after the trip things started to deteriorate. As soon as I began saying that I was skint he started to leg it. It was beautiful. He exited SO fast, I thought it was a gash of wind. I was left completely shattered because it was all my fault. I've let him, AND myself to do this. There is no word to describe my stupidity.
 
Admitting one's own defect, I still don't understand why they (yes, THEY, not one) seem to come to ME? Why don't ya go up to some rich lady with better assets and all? I don't have any money. You must get sick kick out of torturing half broke person with certifiable mental problems. I am too broken to even know what I am thinking any more. I have not recovered from tortures after another and I am simply a malfunctioned marionette . Swing me around, why don't you?
 
Swiiiiiing.......! (Ka....ching!!)