It’s Sunday again and in a few hours, while half of Britain is violently masturbating to Songs of praise I will be fucking bored out of my mind as on any normal Sunday. The fact that Sunday is shit coupled with my fucking oven dying on me and having no money means that this Sunday will be especially shit, a Sunday of Sundays if you will. If my friend is busy with his girlfriend and my significant other is busy I am what is known as fucked.
I’m reviewing for you and myself what I can do tomorrow. The weather is shit which has never stopped me before but my friends are also shit which has stopped me many-a-time, so going out is a no. I have no money so anything involving money including eating a nice meal or getting drunk off my ass is out of the question. I began considering kicking children but alas there are none around and I’m told that it’s cruel and the screams are not of enjoyment but pain. The TV is a pile of wank as always. Why do you even have to pay to view it. It isn’t like there’s ever anything on unless you’re fond of jersey shore or shitty soaps that are, for some reason, a national favorite.
There’s fuck all to do except grill chicken, at least there’s the internet with all of it’s idiots, pornography and cat videos. What a good time that’ll be. I can watch porn while laughing at cats, give me a bottle of cider, some cheap cigarettes and fake designer clothes and I’ll just join the unwashed masses who have no idea what voting is let alone how to vote. The furthest ahead they can plan is to try to tell me they need a pound to see their daughter in hospital.
This man was obviously lying to me so I said if that was my daughter was hospitalized I wouldn’t be stopping to beg for change. I’d be hauling ass down to the hospital. By the way I’m not that much of a dick, I know he was lying because this is a regular thing. I straight away tell him to fuck off when he asks me for money nowadays.
I guess the point of this post is that tomorrow is going to be one hell of a shitty day. I’m writing this to reveal to you a microcosm of my shitty existence right now. If it wasn’t for the lucky lady who puts up with my shit I’d have gone crazy a long time ago. I’d like to have kids but I’m really not ready yet but when I am and they arrive I’m keeping them far away from this shit-hole. I’ll tell them stories about it before bed and they’ll wake me up with nightmares about Burberry-clad chavs chugging liter after liter of cider and trying to ‘borrow’ a cigarette from you.
When the time comes and I have enough money I think I’m going to do something special every Sunday. Later in life I think I will take Sundays to do something special with my children. Their mother is going to make them go to church till they’re 18 as a sort of tradition until they’re old enough to make their own decision. Which is when I will turn them to the dark side. Nobody should have to wake up that early on a Sunday, not even god if he’s there listening. I might take them for ice-cream or all of us for a meal. We also agreed that our children will attend no church activities without their mother because I’m uncomfortable with the prospect of my children being molested. Misanthropy= distrust+News reports=No fucking way.
Since we’re on this subject, family life is different in America. At least in the middle class. I love how family will go out for meals. The American family is still pretty strong compared to here. I enjoy the closeness for the most part. It awesome that these people can and want to spend time together. It’s nice. I have no contact with most of my immediate family and all my extended family. I wouldn’t change that though. Coming from a lower class background I am instantly better off in America. The money goes further and family don’t need to live by the paycheck. It’s nice to be able to want something and have the change in your pocket to go get it.
If I don’t change it Sunday will forever be a shitty day in my mind, as soon as I have the power I will change that. It looks like my Sunday will be full of guitar. At least it’s productive. That and the company of the lucky woman who gets to hear my bitch about my day should get me by. This has been a weird rant and thanks for sticking with me through laughing, cringing or being outright offended. All this bullshit and I can’t even have a damn cigarette.