pm dawn and crushing hard

you know you’re crushing hard when you see the eye-candy walk in after the weekend just had, and just seeing his beautiful blue eyes and you’re set adrift on memory bliss (to borrow, if i may, from the brilliant pm dawn track,) recalling fondly already that ten minute lift he gave you home last friday evening.

…remembering when he showed you how his phone synced with his car radio… how at the second set of traffic lights he cracked wise about an incident earlier in the day… how as he walked off after dropping you off, the vision of his departing little almost-non-existent-because-he’s-so-skinny-yet-holy-carola-crap-is-it-a-goodie butt was sound-tracked to the sounds of prepubescent choir boys rejoicing in song…

ok, actually sound-tracked to the usual noises associated with the main entry way to a busy supermarket on a friday evening. but in my memory, those boys sang their smooth nut-sacks off…!

but don’t be alarmed at my what may appear obsessive state. i’m no stalker or anything of the like. and he’s not the only boy i see / know who rings my bell. i obsess, fantasize, imagine (and re-imagine actual experiences!) with them in equal measure. all in the mind thanks to an incredible knack i have of falling hard for straight boyz.

and the handful that are actually gay too are all taken. or way out of my league!

ah well, memorial bliss is not all bad… especially with a particularly vivid imagination! and great source material. i may fall for straight boyz, but damn…at least i fall for the hot-as-fuck ones!

too-expensive-for-what-it-is-but-i-like-it

it’s sunday pm, i’m sat at my too-expensive-for-what-it-is-but-i-like-it desk, facing my opened windows, a cool breeze blowing in, along with the tedious calls of the evil-ones (seagulls,) and have just cleaned house. well, vacuumed, cleaned the kitchen and washed dishes. i did the bathroom the other day, and so far it’s still ok.

plus i can’t be arsed to do any more. i’m rather stunned i actually did the hoovering and washed up?! especially as yesterday i successfully slept late, read, napped, watched two films, napped again, watched another film, then crashed around 11pm. not a very productive day.

i felt myself almost doing same this morning, the always-heavy eyes feeling extra heavy indeed, so instead of giving in, i forced myself up and actually did some chores.

not to say i still didn’t feel a little whack when i got up. lately after any nap, i tend to find when i get up i feel all squiffy. almost sea-sick. like i’ve fallen asleep on some unmoored little boat and it’s wound its merry way down rough waters while i’ve been sleeping.

me in water is fine. one of my favourite places. me floating on water? no. i get queasy just thinking about it. yes, i’m the guy who got seasick on a moored pub boat on the thames. and while playing tourist on one of the many “cruises” down the canals in amsterdam.

so feeling seasick when you’ve just been on your bed is not overly helpful. in any way shape or form. it passes quick(ish) at least, but still makes for a seriously narly wake-up call.

now that i’ve found my land legs again (is that a thing?) i must admit i’ve no idea what to do with myself… i’ve no money (he says, trying to not overspend the weekly allowance which re-boots tomorrow…) my friends are all away or live far away…i’ve photographed my town so very much i struggle to find inspiration anymore to take a camera-walk, and despite the sun, the wind’s too cool and i’m too fat to brave the beach…

guess it may have to be a usual: walk to starbucks for a fix. maybe i’ll spice things up and have something different, and maybe stay in and read rather than take out… holy crap, blowing my mind with such novel and unique ways to spice things up?! maybe i’ll go commando too… mind. blown.

not. oh, if you’re thinking but why starbucks if you’ve no money, well, i topped up my app/card last monday only to have the nearest ‘bucks to my office have system issues so as to not be able to take app payments. so, three days without a coffee means i’ve some left over for the week on the card. hence, fix today.

ok wow. this is a terrible blog. i guess it’s not just the post nap brain that’s unmoored. maybe it’s the creative and inspired sides too currently bobbing free in fuck-all-interest land?! or sea. fuck-all-interest sea. yes, that’s better.

if you made it this far, well, ta very much! great job hanging in there…!!!

capital f. and u. c. k. e. r. and s.

i know i’m somewhat notorious for my lack of patience and highly irritable ways, and my ongoing efforts to work on both, but holy bajeeza fuck are they being tested to the max today… all down to the usual sources, of course: colleagues.

well, not all of them. some i tolerate without issue. some are ok and totally inoffensive.

some i look forward to seeing (yes, the eye-candy, who today is looking real good to this observer and doing very naughty things in my imagination…oh happy days…)

then there are them. the others. the panic-over-everything-ers. the share-every-thought-loudly-ers. the moan-about-everything-repeatedly-ers. the never-ever-happy-with-anything-ers. the-wah-wah-wah-ers.

aka the fuckers. capital f.

and u. c. k. e. r. and s.

and today, thanks to a slight change in procedures to accommodate some unexpected new services, well, the fuckers have not stopped.

all. fucking. day.

all. on. repeat.

their main subtext being: oh, now i have to actually think for myself and do a little actual work. me no happy.

thank fuck it’s friday. a few hours to go and i can escape to my little studio space, to enjoy the quiet. and no doubt some lots of wine. it’s needed.

cue: utter nonsense, b.s, and scaremongering.

as previously noted here on the15thday, in one way or another, i do my utmost to try ignore all things politics. and religion. mostly because the latter is such sensitive subject matter and i understand that which is why i leave well alone; and the former because it is now nothing but a total farce! and let’s face it, the current state of several “great nations” prove it.

did anyone say “fake news?!” enough said.

well…

growing up i always thought politicians had to have gone through many years of study and work experience prior to taking on positions of such great power, some more so than others, but still, most have power to influence and i assumed would therefore require proof of worth etc to do so.

clearly, that’s utter bollocks. i give you the former reality tv show host and business man who is now the king dong of the u.s. wok. no former political experience ever. and let’s consider the chap in charge in r.s.a… what experience justifies his holding that position when clearly he’s way out of his league?!

but even when some have had alleged career history within the field, they still seem so totally out of touch with any kind of reality as soon as they step into the big boys shoes.

in the u.k, which i love for many reasons, the state of the political game is beyond a joke. aside from several small parties – whose influence in anything is negligible other than to irritate and waste time – we’re left with a few who are “big enough” to have effect, and when they do, they handle it like it’s the first time ever in the history of the world they’ve considered what is required when in power.

aside from “look after your cronies,” well…who knows.

at the moment, we have the joyous experience of an impending general election. this one a “snap” one, so at least we’ve been spared a few additional months of prep (and at least here it doesn’t go on for the seemingly thirty-six month like campaign trails the u.s endure…)

cue: political party broadcasts. cue: manifesto releases. cue: big promises (with fingers tightly crossed behind backs.) everyone promises everything they believe we want to hear, and deliver fuck all when they get in on the back of it. cue: utter nonsense, b.s, and scaremongering. “we’ll invest billions in the nhs etc” and then “oh, can’t quite meet that so will invest a little, and instead waste millions on it systems that don’t work, or paying over the odds for “consultants” who deliver nothing.

like brexit. the leave campaign quoted everything under the sun, and afterwards it was shown many of the most popular claims were incorrect / exaggerated. but we’re stuck with the exit…

a total and complete farce. all of it!

consider this today’s little creative jaunt, oh inner creative-me

make no qualms about it, we’re sitting on the precipice of doom, dark times and nothing but shite. (well, if the news reports – true, semi-true, true-ish, kinda fake, fake, totally fake and the orange one’s level of fakery – the world is generally in a shitty place at the mo and for us several billion folk treading the boards, well…we’re quite possibly a little fucked. or not?! who knows…!)

well, maybe not. and to be frank i’ve no idea if the above is the right use of “qualm” anyway; and in my life at present nothing is remotely threatening me as to feel i’m on the dodgy end of a large cliff, literal or proverbial. or whatever. hence not being able to fire off at length a deep and heartfelt yarn all about the current going’s on in my life!

yes. the dreaded wordpress daily post word prompt strikes again, one where i’m not sure exactly what it’s about (see qualm, yesterday’s word of the day i was going to get to then ran out of time and couldn’t think of anything quick, funny, interesting, of worth to add,) and the other, today’s “precipice,” well, yeah. explained as above, sort of.

ok, i know it’s not the be all and end all of life in blog-world to answer the prompts. in fact i know you can totally ignore the fuck out of them and they won’t be offended in any way shape or form.

but daily sometimes having spent my day on other things, including the sheer joys of number-crunching in the office five days a week – even worse when, like today, the eye-candy is not in – a little prompt is needed to spark some deep set creative output that tends to spend most of its life passing time in the recesses of the grey matter while i’m engaged in the far-too-many uncreative things in the day to day.

so. consider this today’s little creative jaunt, oh inner creative-me, and now, assume the position and i’ll (hopefully) give you a nudge tomorrow…

just because it’s popular doesn’t make it right. or good.

i am now clearly of an age now where i do find myself commenting mostly negatively about the “music of today.” (along with “the youth of today,” and “the fashions of today,” too. yes. old fart alert!)

music wise, my commentary is usually how bloody dreadful so very much of it actually is. and how throw away it is.

i guess it’s as i grew up during the eighties and nineties where sales and such were driven by hard work on the part of the musicians, and release of actually decent music. nowadays any old crap is released and through online streaming and such can be a “huge hit” regardless of whether or not it actually sells. i remember when a new album was on the way, the musicians would release several singles before the whole album came out.

now the album is released in full asap. and when it doesn’t sell the artist is dropped super quick and the next “big thing” is sought.

but top of my list for annoyance – and again, probably an age thing…and maybe genre thing too – is the spate of collaborations nowadays. you know, songs where it’s released and it needs a paragraph to summarise the list of “artists” featured. our new song “crap tune three twenty two,” by jack martin, with dj hard-man featuring x-dude, and mc tinypenissoicompensatebyactinglikeadick, plus lady tight vag, and special appearance by (insert popular teen singer of the moment.)

meh.

duets, fine. these “collaboration” efforts, usually dire. but throw in usually sexist videos and voila, “hit”

no thanks. i’ll stick to my still-going-strong eighties musicians who still actually make great music, leave ninety-nine percent of this new stuff to the youth.

i am, yes, me!

when it comes to hospitality
i’m easy to please,
i am,
yes, me!
just a cocktail or three
long island iced tea?
does me, 
yes, me!
bowls filled with nibbles,
convo’s and giggles,
cracks me,
yes, me!
shoes off and feet up,
time for next movie, “up?”
loves me, 
yes, me!
at the end of the evening 
my head happily swimming,
hugs for me, 
yes, me!
meandering home in the morn,
sometimes with the dawn,
drunk me, 
yes, me! 
when it comes to hospitality, 
i’m easy to please, 
i am, indeed!
yes, me!

usual “health checks for the ageing fart” routine

thanks to a few misfiring cylinders – or whatever they are – in the old grey matter, along with some not-quite-operating-normally other areas, i have had quite a few doctors appointments in recent years. counselling for some things, medication for others. some worked, some didn’t, and i guess some other things cropped up as i’m still dealing with the fall out of the iffy brain and other things.

when it comes to the grey matter, well that’s an ongoing thing and not really “testable,” unlike the other bits that are.

at least though my favourite part still works like a freaking trouper and always knowns how best to remind me of the fact…even if on occasion it may not prove the most opportune time to do so. ahem. (yeah, that part. of course. i’m a boy. and i’m a gay boy too. so some parts are clearly v.i.p in my life, for obvious reasons.)

anyway, along with the visits have been blood tests, blood pressure tests, cholesterol etc. aka the usual “health checks for the ageing fart” routine. and, unlike before, i now seem to receive detailed explanations on the results.

and what a mind fuck maze of jargon and numericals it is?! or perhaps i’m just dumb and don’t get it.

they rattle off this stuff as if it means something to me. well, it doesn’t.

not a jot.

oh…this number is this, that one is that, this references the other thing, that doodad is high, while this is too low…” the fuck?! i didn’t go to medical school. i didn’t even do biology after the enforced lessons at school, and pretty sure we didn’t go through most of this shite anyway when i did.

just break it down into the good, the bad and the ugly. no jargon. no actual mg/ml or mcc or mc2 whatever. just blood pressure is great, cholesterol a little high, liver function good.

then i’ll at least have a clue as to where i am and what’s up?! and know actually it’s mostly normal and i’m not facing a terrible stretch ahead?! fuck sake!

vo-mit-yuck-urgh-hurl-gag-omg-no

sure i’ve mentioned before, but i’m a bit of a sucker for cooking shows. especially those where the participants are challenged to do certain things, in preference to shows where a lone chef whips something up in an impossibly clean kitchen with access to every single possible utensil ever made.

shows like masterchef, chopped, hell’s kitchen, great british menu and the like are brilliant and i’ve lost many hours to watching them.

but a recurring issue i have – regardless of the type of show – is when it comes to the cooking of meat. all the chefy types (and my mom, actually, whose blue rare steak smothered in garlic sauce is a very much loved favourite dinner,) seem to like everything virtually still with a heartbeat. except chicken. pink meat in chicken is a no-no.

but things like venison and it’s practically still kicking as it’s served up.

vo-mit-yuck-urgh-hurl-gag-omg-no.

when it comes to the meats, ├╝ber well done for me, please and thank you. this still bleeding virtually raw shite is just wrong. even in movies when you see the lost chap in the woods without fire and he has to raw eat the rabbit he managed to catch with twine from his jumper, my gag reflex kicks in.

dried / cured meats are ok, especially growing up in south africa where biltong (jerky to the u.s. peops,) is a default go to snack. but raw? nah.

i’ve only tried raw meat a couple of times in my (almost) forty three years. once in a lebanese restaurant where, much like the other place i (for reasons unknown) tried tartare, there was so much added spices and pickles and such that i was able to just about convince myself it was ok.

it wasn’t. not really. same mix of meats and such but fried up and served with some fries? now we’re talking. proper fries too. perfect for smothering in every condiment to hand too, of course.