I've lost track of the whole blog thing over the past week or so through a combination of suspected H1N1, hangovers and mild laziness, but the events over the past week or so have prompted one of those almighty rants that you read over and realise what a miserable bastard you've become. All the same, I genuinely think that most of it is justified, whether it be through arrogance or a general lack of brain cells throughout society....
I'm one of the crowd who didn't learn to drive when I was 17, and here we are, 6 years on, still bound by the shackles of public transport. I dread nothing more than stepping onto the peasant wagon at 8 in the morning, faced with the prospect of speaking to a bus driver with a face like an depressed prune, wallet tactically kept in the back pocket of some overly tight trousers so he can whinge like it's the end of the earth when you pay with a £20 note and he has to get change out. How's that customer service NVQ going for you mate? Work experience with the Nazis going well?
And then just when you think it can't get any worse, you have to get the metro up to town. Every single morning I get stuck next to the ultra-friendly residents of cultural hot spots such as Meadowell, Howdon and Percy Main, praying that they might have discovered soap, or at least some manners. I had the complete and utter misfortune of parking my disgruntled backside beside a right specimen the other day; poppy gaffa-taped to a vintage Reebok jacket, hair like a wire brush and a half smoked tab tucked firmly behind one of the strangest shaped ears I had ever seen. He even kept his phone, wallet, passport and keys in one of those plastic wallets you used to hoy your certificates in from school. Didn't see any certificate in his wallet though. Occasionally I'm even greeted with the stone-faced ticket checking inbreds. You don't need to wear a big bright orange jacket 'mate', I can tell by that overly smug look on your face that you're an absolute throbber. I might not have a ticket, but at least I have prospects.
Finally, we get to the shocking obsession with pop culture. If you want to watch it then fine, but I personally couldn't give a shiny shite whether 'Jedward' mimed the words to some song off the Ghostbusters movie- I'd rather see someone inject rat poison into their vocal chords if I'm being brutally honest. I'd actually have more fun watching a woodlouse struggle around on its back than seeing some 'celebrities' whinge about missing home when they've been living in a jungle for half a day, so please, for the love of God, don't tell me how brave Jimmy White was when he wrestled with a crocodile because quite frankly, I don't care. Keep your conversations about bullshit vampire movies to your poncey little sleepovers, where you can all sit and eat pizzas whilst watching re-runs of the Jonas Brothers concert all night if you like. The day I queue up at 12am to watch a movie in the cinema will be the day I have fuck all left to whinge about.
I could go on all day. Maybe one day I'll even do a full blog about things that I like. For now though, I'll stick a tune on the end like normal and hope for the best. I was a massive fan of J Dilla when he was alive and he's one of the few artists where I saw the posthumous hype as being justified, unlike a lot of other names in hip-hop. I love 'Footsteps in the Dark' by the Isley Brothers, which is probably why this tune sounds cool as fuck to me!
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