johnnieblog

Gods don't kill people, people with gods kill people.

As in Seasonal Affective Disorder.

Johnnies travel tip Number 1:
Don't allow yourself to have two back to back cold seasons. It realy fucks with your head.

But then again I did see the sun for about an hour on Sunday AM, and it is getting warmer.

So out and about on Saturday night and all.

Checked out a few other bars in the city, but they were, to my jaded eyes, rather too filled with 12 year olds, (I'm mid 30's, so 12-22, all starts to look the same) who quite rightfully find me invisible, or else they can see my wallet with rather frightning clarity.


But even then, I just couldn't get any traction at all, as I put it to this quite nice guy I met earlier in the night "I suck".


So I persisted, and ended up chatting to a quite cute Eastern European girl (Big Mistake) and ended up encountering a problem I have in the past.
Put simply "If your girlfriend asks me to dance, why do you feel the need to shout at me ? So I have this fucker (probally her pimp), in my face after about 90 seconds of dancing, screaming at me and poking me in the chest, which is never a good way to win friends. Was tempted to give this fuck a proper Liverpool kiss, but also didn't fancy being chucked out, and I do try to avoid this sort of shit in my life anyway.
So I just slapped that pokey arm down, and told him to fuck off, which seemed to surprise him a bit. Then I get 10 of metres between myself and that landmine of a woman as soon as possible.

So now I'm wired on the adrenal blast that comes from a fight-or-flight situation. Not the happy buzz I like that time of night. Thought it might be best to evacuate.

What a night.

So, as I'm new in town, one of my primary tasks is to find myself a nice babe (it's just wrong not to have one). While I'm a bit of a tart (OK total tart) I do hate waking up with that "Oh my god what have I done" feeling, so I never let my beer googles get much past about stage four.

(Stage 8 googles is where you wake up with a 40+ woman? Who plays rugby against men) as reported as last nights action by my old Churchy City flatmate, who we will know as POG (Pesky Offshore Guy)
Stage 10 googles don't even bear thinking about (The woman you went to bed with is actually a man)
Stage four is where that stunning goddess you have been talking to, actually is quite tidy in the harsh light of day.

So out and about, met this lass, who was quite nice, but a wee bit chunky, who was very enthusiastic about me, which is very flattering, and as I didn't want to palm her off in front of her friends, I ended up spending most of the night with her, even allowed myself to end up at the same tragic 80's club I was at last week.

So a fun night, good snog, but not much closer to reaching my goal.

Why didn't I shag her ?
Something I call the Grocho Conundrum:

I don't date girls who shag blokes like me on the first date.

So we will see what adventures tonight holds.......

Stay tuned - non existant readers.

Hmmmm....Mr Lives-in-Cheeseville, called last night, and advised he had changed his mind - Some friend coming from down South, old mate yadda yadda yadda....

What a prick.
Feels it's appropiate to fuck people round, but he does assure me he is very very very sorry.
What a dick.

On the positive side, I obviously don't want to live with someone who behaves like that, so in the long run, it's probally a good thing.

But again, what a sickly, pale, fucked-up Engerlish prick.

I'm sure that this nation has the greatest asshole-per-capita ratio in the known world.

So still at the CLGH. Hmmmmmmmmmmm........................................................................

Good news, I've got a room in a house in a wee village 10 mins from the dreary city, which we will now call Ghost Town, and moving to Cheeseville.

Will be interesting to see how the Engerlish cope with the new large loud antipodean in their midst.

Poor bastards........

But it will be very good to be out of the C.L.G.H.

I think I'll try to find some aspect of this rather tragic race of short, pale, sickly creatures to mock on a daily basis. ( three aspects already...without even trying)

I've just moved, as the only place I could work in the Churchy City, was my old workplace, I've moved inland to some dreary industrial city, where my job is much better, but the city is much worse.

I needed some temporary accomodation, and as such, ended up staying at a guest house in an old village that has been swallowed up by the city, was a wee bit dubious when I checked the place out, but as you do, made the lazy decision and moved in for a couple of weeks.

So this place is a big old place, that has each and every surface ( vertical or horizontal ) covered in dust collecting horrible crap (some of it might be valuable horrible crap, look at what turns up in antiques roadshow) Every fucking surface.

I'm a big guy, and one of gods less graceful creatures (O.K. big clumsy git) so I find a enviroment like this where I can't turn round without disturbing some porcelain penguins or dried flowers or those revolting little crystal animals a bit of a trial.

This place also suffers from that bizarre Engerlish design decision of having carpet in the wet rooms. WTF ? I even visted a house with white carpet in the Toilet ( What kind of crazy masochist would do that ?)

So I met the woman who owns the house, and all looked OK, but I was unaware that for the next two weeks, I would be not be seeing her in anything else but a dressing gown and a gin bottle. Apparently she has some sort of personel drama ( got dropped) , but I've always though that getting pissed once for such a drama was appropiate, living in a bottle for two weeks may be milking it a bit hard.

So when ever I'm not hiding in my room (most of the time) I get drunken tales of men crossed and family disasters, all delivered at a volume to be heard over the constantly blaring TV ( That incidently, has been playing the pathetic "Bridgit Jones - Edge of reason" constantly for the last five days.

Ahhhhhhh.....nice to vent that to my non existant readers.

I need somewhere to catalogue my interactions with the Engerlish.........

Need somewhere to bitch about the Northeners ( these are Global Northeners ), the Engerlish get worse the further South you go, so Novocastrians are pretty cool, and some of the worlds most pompus, uptight tossers live in Essex.

I'm a Kiwi, who for reasons that now escape him, arrived in the UK about 6 months ago, after about 10 years of bouncing around Asia, Australia and NZ. I've always been an itchy feet kind of guy, but I might be on the verge of curing this affliction.

I work as a Networker for some souless corprate telco, my second S.C.T. in the country, the first one was such as enormous fucking joke that I only lasted three months, I have never seen such a vast collection of pointless incompetence. Filled will silly forms, and lots of Ex Military guys who put great store in following instructions to the letter, no matter how pointless.
A truely soul-destroying place.