bulk :: 16st 0 (aaaaarrrgh! When am I going to break that bastard's back?)
cigarettes :: 0
joints :: 0
alcohol :: some
runs :: 2 (seems I don’t want to fuck the horse at all. Seems I shall spend the rest of my life a big paunchy mediocre bastard. Why can’t I have Rafael Nadal’s body?! Why?! Oh yes, because I am mentally and physically lazy. ROAR!!!! Where is my passion?! Why aren’t I a roaring boy? Balls to me. What I deserve is a really good hiding.)
swims :: 0 (lazy shitbag)
chocolate biscuits :: 0 (progress!)
Odd Couple-style arguments with Keith :: 7 (one about not throwing things away; one about throwing things away; one about tennis; one about Keith not doing enough art; one about him not commenting on the comments on his blog; two about women)
games of tennis :: 1 (back spazzed out again – so why the hell haven’t I been to a chiropodist yet? I must want to be a failure.) (Chiropractor. I mean chiropractor.)
wanks :: 412 (meh)
So. It’s official. I am on heat. Two weeks now, and in that time I have become transformed. I am now nothing more than a giant pulsating testicle. Sixteen stone of stagnant sticky manwash enclosed in a diaphanous sheath of sweat, hair and cellulite. Any moment now I could snap, crackle and pop, splashing my spicy clam right in your eye.
Really. It feels like it's becoming untenable.
So. Earlier this week I figured, before I become a danger to anything in a brassiere, I’d better do something about it. (I would never really become a danger to anything in a brassiere. Honest I wouldn’t.)
Persuading Keith was actually much easier than I thought. At first he was like, ‘Get fucked. What am I, desperate?’ and I was like, ‘Yeah’, and he was like, ‘Get a life, bozo’, and I was like, ‘Why are you talking like that, you great nonce?’ and he was like, ‘Whatever’. Then I said, ‘Although you might not be desperate, many of the women in the room with you will be, and you’ll most likely be able to trick one of them into thinking you might be able to love her, just long enough to slip inside her and damage her forever, you vile misogynist.’
He thought about this for a moment.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘But you’d better be right.’
Men are monsters.
But women are monsters too.
And so it was that Keith and I went speed dating last night. And boy oh boy oh boy oh boy was it fun. Well was it? Actually, it was. But I can’t possibly begin to talk about it now. It’ll take me all weekend to
Lust is awful, isn’t it? I mean, I think it’s awful. You might not. I'm finding it overwhelming at the moment. I feel like I’m half here. At best.
So.
Have a splendid weekend.
10 comments:
Can't wait for the speed date post.
A marked improvement in substance abuse btw. Really quite remarkable.
I write this comment after a few week or so of being in hiding after riling one of your female fans. But I'm over it...and back in the comments box, albeit with a kosh.
Strange that, when the choccy bikkies are let go, lust looms powerful and all consuming.
I've done a graph on it. Just to prove this point.
Exactly.
XO
WWW
i have worked out why i enjoy visiting you, bete - i leave feeling so filthy. enjoy your weekend.
This is how I found your blog:
1.) I typed 'Sebastian Horsely is a cunt' into Google.
2.) My eyes lighted on the phrase: "I found your blog after I typed 'Sebastian Horsley is a cunt' into Google" (...apologies for variable spelling of the cunt's surname. I can't remember the correct version. I don't care).
I don't know what to say now. I know what I want to say, but I've gone all shy. I'll go away and think about it, spend an hour or six crafting The Perfect Thing to Say, and come back. I might sleep first actually.
eeeeuw
Lol...G'wan tell ua all about the speed dating experience. Never done that myself but am now wondering if I may have missed out on something amusing...
http://tinyurl.com/5ltw29 there is a link to the profile of the Lee Chiropractic Health Centre. They don't have their own website, which sucks, but you can phone them there. I hope the help you and you can follow this link!
Speed dating! It seems like it would be so awkward that it would be kinda fun.
Alas, Where I live in California- fate denies me the chance to give it a try. Apparently, people in my city do not have a hard time finding dates, so there is no speed dating anywhere! Go figure!
I can't wait to read all about your adventure.
I went once and forgot every one of the 12 people I had spoken to within about five minutes. Except for the real nutters, which wasn't really what I was after.
And pulsating testicle? Mmm... bleugh!
Keep your kosh poised, Misssy. You ladies are vicious.
WWW, are you suggesting that Hob Nobs may in fact be used as a sexual appetite suppressant? Interesting. Maybe they should rethink the marketing.
Bittersweet, do you actually get a bit aroused by me? Is that what you're saying? I think it is. I get a bit aroused by you too. (Unless you deny it, in which case I deny it too.)
Anonymous, welcome. He is.
DJ, it is amusing, yes. But it's bound to be really. It's basically talking to a bunch of strangers, one after the other, and in my case, being a little tipsy while you're doing it. Some of it is bound to be fun. And all of it is bound to be fascinating. To a certain extent.
Thank you, Acceptable!
Selena, no speed dating in California? I find that very difficult to believe.
Newbie, I'm sorry. I've completely forgotten what you said.
Arf.
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