October was the time that brought about various things in the news which were remarked on a little bit;

The credit crunch was still going on, actually, is it me, or is the whole thing just getting boring? I mean surely there is only so long that all this can keep happening? Well apparently not, and this nugget of life still gives all the bankers in the world brown trousers as they hope mummy doesn’t take their toys away. October was the time we have seen the politicians getting the cheque book out again to bail out more financial f-ups in a vain attempt to get people to start doing the same thing all over again.

The 700 billion dollar pot which was still being decided at the time of writing, as to whether or not to give out, will effectively give over more control of the fund to the US government in terms of assets etc, while safe guarding, err, something.

Europe of course, not to be out done by those pesky yankies, are also trying to conjure up money from thin air. It’s not working because naturally everyone in Europe hates each other, but bless them for trying all the same. And even now more of this practise is going on. Ah who cares any more? At least there has been a massive shift from the charities, as I’ve now not seen anywhere near as many of the lovely red army on the streets.

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It’s time for a commercial break.

Sorry I’ve been away from the blogging scene for a few days while other lies have been taking my time. Shame to get money you have to work, why couldn’t I be paid for just being me?

I will be writing a fair bit tomorrow hopefully to tide a fair number of you over till next time as Monday afternoon, I set sail on the easyboat to foreign lands and won’t be back in Blighty for a little while.

No, I’m not being sent to Australia for my crimes. (CONVICTS, they’re all con….)

Actually it seems like the right time for a break from the normal hustle and bustle that appears to have taken over, in exchange for different hustle and bustle in Spain.

So many people it seems are burning out and losing the will to well anything, I must confess, I’ve been reaching some lows myself and this couldn’t have come at a better time.

Maybe I’ll center the chi or whatever the hell it is and become one with nature. Or Sleep, whichever comes first. So Sunday I’ll be back with more from 2008 and perhaps something more from 2009. Have a cracker of an evening my fellow fellows.

And now we return to the past to remark on various evil doings that occurred during September, now only if we had Earth, Wind and Fire singing in the background it would be the ideal montage sequence.

Motivation is a waning commodity in these times where the long hours of work practically drain you of energy and you find that the best you could hope for when you get home is to eat more cheesy snacks and catch up with who is sleeping with the cat on your favourite soap opera.

But I did start a course in writing in September having been spurred on to achieve, for what little that actually did.

Remarks were made about the giant donut that CERN had built underneath bits of Europe which even now still remains broken, and still remains a waste of money. And I guess once they fix the damned thing, then we should all start panicking that they are going to kill us all. See, all good news!

And it came to pass that another year had been added to The Lord of Leisure’s age, thus being the wrong side of 25, which only means the belly gets larger, the chins become numerous and the flatulence gets unbearable.

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Everyone today in London town, even some of the tourists I noticed while being stuck on the bus heading to Waterloo, seemed to have had a cloud hanging over them in many ways and with other news that has filtered through, the gloom looks set to continue.

The rich are still getting richer, one of the major things with the recession is that everyone else is getting run into the ground by working more for less actual cash in their pockets with all sorts of wonderfully bad excuses being made. Lovers has been lost into the night, and there are only tins of corned beef to eat in the cupboard.

You would be tempted to call it a day at that without calling the Samaritans, who had enough themselves and can’t take it any more….

Ah, f**k it, it had to be put on here at some point;

EVERYBODY SING ALONG! YOU KNOW YOU WANT TOO!

Now everyone, cheer up and that’s an order sergeant! Even if you don’t know what to do right now, there is always tomorrow, and tomorrow always seems to bring something new.

This post has been brought to you in association with LSD, the best way to get off your t*ts.

Ok you’re going to start wondering why the picture on the left is on here, but bear with us and it shall become clear.

Now it’s been fun wandering back to 2008 the past few days, but the hell is going on right now, and why return back to doing the review of last year when most sites are remarking on more important topics like why pickle jars are damned hard to open.

I suppose it’s a bizzare thing of both dragging my feet around, and also finishing off something I had started earlier in the year.

I have been most silent on the whole thing of writing about the present to tell the truth as I suppose I’m still getting my mojo back into action with the whole blogging thing, struggling to string together wonderfully silly phrases together in a vain effort not to make anyone fall lapse into a coma, which meant that looking back on old material gives you a place to start.

I suppose that when you’ve been away from it in such a long time, and haven’t really done lots of things of worth in the eyes of many of your pears, you start grasping at the various straws you have at your disposal such as remarking on the weather, or commenting on the news, or simply stating about a relative’s bowl movement.

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August was a month for moaning it appears. I had remarked on the fact that a blog is an ongoing narrative and therefore requires the finest in writing material to keep the people coming back for more and more. Failing that, some lols and writing in txt speak about how everything is that funny brown stuff that falls out of my bottom.

I had gotten tired of the homeless people taking one look at my shoes and deciding I have money. If they saw my bank balance, that would say actually, he doesn’t. It’s at the point now, where basically I’ll have start thinking about asking them for a spare 50p.

I had even found the time to get jolly upset at the fact that most central London shops catered for only those people who had less fat in their bodies than celery.

OK, I’m a chubby f**ker who’s life involves not women, wine and a cigar as most people in this cosmopolitan slab would believe, but mounds of greasy bacon smothered in Angel Delight fried in sugar. Well I guess that hasn’t changed right now, but there is jelly in the fridge waiting for my gorging body to consume and that’s light….but I digress.

Food and I have an unhealthy but working relationship. I buy it in huge quantities, and in return, it lets me stuff it down my arena-sized gob. There’s not much talking, and there are no questions asked. All legal too.

I’ve been this size for a large amount of time, pardon the pun, and therefore have been used to knowing which shops tend to stock items which fit, for example, the NEXT chain of stores in the UK are great for tops of all shapes and sizes.

But if I were to try and fit into their range of trousers and jeans, I would cut off circulation to the man-sacks and proceed to walk funny. Still I guess where there’s a will, there’s a way to avoiding dieting to fit into this crap…

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“Panic and chaos reigned today in London as a mad man proceeded to disrupt the precession by pretend ironing in front of the national gallery. Police suspect he was armed and dangerous, with the iron being ready to deploy in less than 45 seconds.

Both are still in custody tonight, and the police report that the ironing board is refusing to talk.”

Still, perhaps that would have been a better and potentially happier news story than most of the things making the headlines these days. Basically that was how I described the events of wandering round London with an ironing board.

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Had to admit, the habit of writing constantly is taking some time to get used to. After a day of clearing up, eating Indian food and getting chased by smelly people for change, I was geared up this fine Saturday evening to write about July 2008, something about the here and now as it were and maybe even about the Watchmen movie which had come out recently, and then it hit me.

The few bottles of Cobra beer that is.

So, in a bizzare twist, f**k it dude, let’s go bowling today and return tomorrow instead. Have a good un!

June. The first month spent in the big smoke as some people call it. Though you sometimes wonder if it’s the big smoke due to the huge amount of traffic and people’s arses releasing all the gas into the air or if the place is constantly being set on fire.

But in any case, the first month was filled with a great many fun filled with a number of meeting many different people, some scary as they are well aware as I described my first few days at work, some were from the internet which is going to lead to all sorts of stories about fiddlers, and some were famous;

The first day at the new workplace with all sorts of new people in a completely different field of industry altogether went down like telling an Arab joke involving Bin Laden at a mosque.

I suppose that when I wrote about the fact that being in that building was like “Walking around what looks like a set from Bridget Jones with thirty something women around looking at screens wondering if the knickers they bought from Primark would not make them a laughing stock when they have chatted up a man at the local bar”, and the fact that those films really seemed to be based around fact, it was from the perspective of being overwhelmed.

The first day was one filled with only questions with not that many answers forthcoming and being frightened at first by the soon to be known as “ear-rapist”, I was wondering what the hell was to become of me.

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May brought about the big announcement of leaving behind sunny Shropshire in exchange for sunny London. No idea where people get the idea it rains in the UK, it’s always sunny to me….(he says reaching for more pills to take the pain away)

I did remark that by day, you can do your normal work, and by night, you could take a course at one of the many institutions available who specialise in various areas not found elsewhere, or get caught up doing something you would never think about doing in a million years. (Note, previous statement doesn’t include running from the fuzz for drug trafficking.) Or if you are me, actually get time to do the OohSometimes podcast which has it turned out was a complete lie but hey, can’t blame a guy for lying through his dried-up teeth.

There are people down and back up north who have already said they would help if asked, and indeed I had immense help in getting sorted out. Mind you the people I was to encounter did leave me wondering if it all would be a hoot considring the sheer vast number of b******ds who lurk behind every homeless guy selling the Big Issue.

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