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So, in the last five days, I have been through the following things:

Graduation
I now have a Computer Science degree. I've finally finished uni, and can look for a better job to replace the two I currently have. WooHoo!
South Devon College Staff Party
Not just any party, but at Paignton Zoo. What a damn cool place for a party.
Stag Night
And not just a normal stag night; a stag night in my hometown comprised of ten Frenchmen and two Germans only one of which I'd ever met before. Luckily most of them could speak English really well because my foreign language skills are, well, non-existent
Party at friend's parents house
With lots of free beer, wine and champagne
Wedding
But a wedding that went on till three in the morning and was full to the brim with free alcohol.
Celebration for the graduation
Pub meal with the family time.

Why are you telling us all this? Well the point is that, during the last few days, I have consumed as much food, beer, wine and cigarettes as would normally have taken me over a month and I have hardly slept. I am, to be honest, knackered and fucked-up. I am ill.

In fact, I'm pretty bad at being well. I smoke too much; I drink too much; I sleep too little; when I remember to eat, I eat unhealthy crap. In fact, I'm no good at looking after myself; I'm unfit and underwieght, I flit between sugar high and tired lows, between caffiene-induced edgyness to disorganised confusion. This is not good.

So I've decided to become healthy. Not a complete health freak, but healthy. I wanna eat better, smoke and drink less and sleep better. I want to be able to get up the morning without feeling like shit. I want my brain to start working without the aid of coffee, coca-cola and several skinny roll-ups. I want to sort my self out, in a physical manner. I want to be able to play football with my mates without collapsing in a breathless heap.

It's odd. I'm one of those people who reads the manual from cover to cover. Anything I encounter, I want to find out more about; I consume information about stuff like this. But when it comes to the proper maintanance of the human body, I'm pretty clueless. So I turned to google to help. But google doesn't help. This is my problem: I want to be healthier and fitter, but all the websites I've found cater for people who want to lose weight, or people who want to become muscle-bound. I want neither of these things; I'm a 26-year-old man who weighs 9 stone, losing weight would probably kill me.

Anyway. Here is a public declaration that I am going to become a healthier person from now on -- if you see a writeup deletion request for this w/u in the future, you know I've failed. And if anyone knows of a good website to read, or has some useful tips for me I'd be really grateful for a msg...

<@>

Steven Seagal is naked. And I am naked too.

You know, something's been bugging me recently... kettle leads, you know? With a plug on one end, and another plug on the other end, but it's a different plug on the other end. Both plugs have three prongs, but the smaller plug has the prongs going inwards, and they are actually holes rather than prongs. So that although you have to force the body of the plug into the socket, the prongs are themselves pierced - passively - by the actual pointy-prongs in the utensil.

Not the leads themselves, but the lack of leads, it's not the leads themselves that are bugging me, it's the lack of leads, one lead, a lead. You see, so many kettles nowadays, instead of having a proper kettle lead, instead of that, they have a base unit, on which you place the kettle, and the base unit is connected to the mains by an integral... the cable goes into the base, there's no plug, it just goes straight in. No kettle lead, even though it's a kettle. A lead, yes, but not a kettle lead.

And I don't like that. The other day I found myself wanting a kettle lead, I wanted it, and I couldn't get it. I'm not getting it. And I wanted it. Because the only kettle lead I had was plugged into my computer! It was powering my computer. Can you see how ridiculous that is, that the only kettle lead in my room is powering... not my kettle, no, but my computer? It doesn't make sense. They aren't kettle leads, if they aren't kettles... if they aren't powering kettles, connected to them. It's a computer lead, except that there are lots of computer leads, you understand? And so it's... I don't know what the formal term is, you'd have to ask an electrician. Mono-gang extensor plug, I don't know.

You know, I looked very hard, but all the power leads I found were connected directly into the things they powered, even the toaster, and the iron. They are kettles as well. I've just thought that, if you were a salesman and you wanted to sell a magnifying glass, you could use the slogan "enhance the perception / of your erection", and sell it to men! Plenty of that on the internet, that kind of thing. Use a telescope, enhance your perception, or perhaps you could use that slogan to sell coffee, albeit that there is no link between coffee and potency. It's odd, really... in that it's hard to think about alcohol without thinking about erections, and it's hard to think about cocaine and heroin without thinking about erections, but you never really make the connection between coffee and erections, and sex? It's not an aphrodisiac, coffee is not an aphrodisiac, and you can't rub it into your erection or inject it into your erection, it doesn't impede the process of erection. But then again no-one really connects cigarettes with erections; or rather the act of ingesting cigarette smoke, no-one connects the act of ingesting cigarette smoke with erections. Plenty of people connect the shape of cigars with erections and also the act of smoking, indeed many people find it sexy to watch women smoke, like in the old films; but not the consumption of smoke, that's... it doesn't affect me. To think about it, to watch it. I don't smoke.

I could sacrifice so much, I could live without so much. I need the kettle lead in order to plug in some speakers which I have bought from the internet, they were cheap, but the ones I have - which were also cheap - well the ones I have, the right speaker is no longer as loud as the left speaker, so I find myself having to sit closer to the right speaker than I sit to the left speaker, and that's can't be good, can it? I'll get cancer, or it'll upset my equilibrium. It'll. It. It will. It, I'll eat you.

"Do not rejoice in his defeat, you men. For though the world has stood up and stopped the bastard, the bitch that bore him is in heat again."

Cars suck. At least, our car does.

Last August, within days of my arrival in Texas, the steering felt weird. I said to Sam "It's the tie rods, I bet." Lo and behold, the woman was right. Three hundred bucks to repair those.

Earlier this year, the car started leaking transmission fluid like it was going out of style. An hour later, the car was deader than George Burns. Three thousand borrowed from my asshole father in law dollars later, we had a new transmission. Joy.

We have a screwed up wheel bearing, a tire with a slow leak, the electric windows don't roll down, the electric locks don't work, and there's a dent as big as my ass on the right side fender.

Today Sam noticed that the brakes were responding like crap. Stopped at a gas station to check the brake fluid and it was OUT. Empty. Pffft! Gone. Ran inside, bought a bottle of the stuff, then we sat there trying to figure out how we were supposed to get the fluid poured out of the bottle into the little hole that was two inches under the body of the car.

While we sat there puzzled, this guy walks over who looks just like a short Chris Elliot (sounded like him, too!) and says "Oh yeah, at such and so mechanic school, we dealt with this. Here, this is how it's done..." Then he fills our brake fluid reservoir, and then this guy followed us home to make sure we were okay.

At home he gave us some tips about the brakes, the shabby wheel bearing we have, and some other things. We asked him if he does side work, and he said absolutely and gave us his phone number.

We desperately need a mechanic, and it looks to me like once again, my Deity has delivered what I need.

As Sam always says: "Your Deity sure likes you."

Ain't it true?

What is this depression?

Have I gone that far, indulgence?

I am lying on a bed, no sheets, I could give a fuck, naked with my eyes staring down the wall

and this girl is leaving me, she is leaving in hours now to a much awaited now dreaded vacation.

she wants to stay here with me and she would be wrong

I want to go with her and I would be wrong

we both fit very well together, souls cut from the same loaf, but life has dealt our hands far apart, and we must play them out according to our own desires.

I have heard people speak of faith. Have you ever looked into your heart and told someone you loved them, knowing it is true, them doing the same, and then said goodbye? That's some fucking faith.

Beautiful girls are damn fucking tempting and I am a weak man, but I understand what my heart is telling me, I must give up a relationship, no matter how well we fit, because it would be forced together, and wait to see if it comes naturally together. Then it will be real. True beauty is not unlike the movement of bowels. Forcing yourself to shit can be painful, unsatisfying, and sometimes impossible. Wait, it comes.

As well.. then we will be two things not one. Everyone is alone here, that must be understood, and once both of us feel well enough to be alone, then we can be together.

fuck man, how part of me lusts for the bliss of ignorance!

and then laughs at myself for being so assuming... that a rock or a fly or a man with down syndrome has a life any less difficult, dramatic, passionate, or beautiful than my own.

I guess there is a weight that comes with deciding to be a responsible adult and hold your own dick while you pee... and sometimes this sunlight feels so heavy.

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