I am going to have to suspend this experiment for a while. Too many commitments are barreling towards me with xmas and my daughters birthday and all sorts of shit. Money is just not going to be available for wasting on myself. I feel I have shown that it is possible to make a decent attempt at the objective but it will need more structured thinking.
In the meantime I may start a brief blog on more urbane matters. Speak to you soon.
Monday 17 November 2008
Friday 14 November 2008
Going on the Borrow
I could have a very good weekend coming up. Thing is, I'd need about 40 squidlings. I have about none. It turns out the wife used the last of the pot to pay her mobile out of OUR cash and not HER cash. Which means I paid half. Which is why I'm looking at a weekend of telly and xbox not beer and fags.
The answer to this is to borrow til it's sorted. But from who...
My parents are always skint, my siblings are either skint or using their cash, my mates are useless.
Borrowing has always been a necessary evil. Many times has a wage packet been cut in half by the repayment of loans or pawned goodies. This means more borrowing til you can gradually borrow less each week til you are somewhere near straight. Or you have to flog your telly. I have been known to book holidays from jobs that forward you that weeks cash just to get straight. Not recommended though, the week off has to be spent working from agencies or you spend it all in the pub in a day or two.
The answer is to spend your time with cans at home and not the pub, and a big bag of weed (and I mean weed, NOT skunk!). As the poet said 'weed will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no weed'. Unfortunately being unprepared for the extent of my skintness I have made no provisions. So.
Can you lend us a bullseye?
The answer to this is to borrow til it's sorted. But from who...
My parents are always skint, my siblings are either skint or using their cash, my mates are useless.
Borrowing has always been a necessary evil. Many times has a wage packet been cut in half by the repayment of loans or pawned goodies. This means more borrowing til you can gradually borrow less each week til you are somewhere near straight. Or you have to flog your telly. I have been known to book holidays from jobs that forward you that weeks cash just to get straight. Not recommended though, the week off has to be spent working from agencies or you spend it all in the pub in a day or two.
The answer is to spend your time with cans at home and not the pub, and a big bag of weed (and I mean weed, NOT skunk!). As the poet said 'weed will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no weed'. Unfortunately being unprepared for the extent of my skintness I have made no provisions. So.
Can you lend us a bullseye?
Wednesday 12 November 2008
Losing Momentum
Well, a pleasant evening, a couple of beers and a bit of darts. But not anywhere the policy of blotto. It's all going wrong. I'm not sure where all the money went. I know I did spend a fair bit but I thinky wifey might be squirreling some away for 'sensible' reasons. The coming month is party month and I must find funds that will last. Something Must Turn Up!
Tuesday 11 November 2008
Er..... if I... er
Darts tonight and no cash. Tricky one. Especially annoying as I have been relying on tuesdays as the only reliable night for assured drunkeness. I have 4 squid. We shall see.
Monday 10 November 2008
Life on Mark
That was a close one. Friday, total washout, saturday, great stuff. Didn't end til 6am. Never got to see my brother, his pick-up was all long and he just called it quits. Still, I had a few tins and got slightly sozzled. Saturday was cool though, my mate Mark, he of the sudden disappearance returned with a score he owed me. So we had a few watching Arsenal stuff United in the pub. Then my Father-in-law came down to take us all to the social club for a karaoke. (he is unaware of the impending disnuptialisation). And he stood in the chair so beers all round! Got mangled in a reasonably civilized way, polished off the beer in the fridge while I stayed up to watch Calzaghe fight Roy Jones Jr.
Life has been more raucous but I will settle for that after the friday and when you're skint you take what you can get. The money has run out rather too quick though. May need to plan more carefully.
Life has been more raucous but I will settle for that after the friday and when you're skint you take what you can get. The money has run out rather too quick though. May need to plan more carefully.
Friday 7 November 2008
Beer and Fags and Chips and Gravy
Wife's out tonight so I am seeking to find an oasis of Zonk in the trek across the desert of reality. Little bruv has been negotiated with and we shall hope for the best but I am getting some beers in to be safe.
What an exciting life I lead!
What an exciting life I lead!
Thursday 6 November 2008
Amusing Incident
Er, not entirely related to the experiment but I spent a few hours today in the custody of police. Just thought I'd mention it. It is possible that my brief sojourn into the waking world has stunned me a little, shocked me into a foul temper. I was not aware that calling a bank manager a wanker was a terrible crime but apparently it's serious enough to be arrested in the middle of a large Sainsbury's supermarket as I tried to buy a tin of bombay potatoes. Which means the "rozzers" went to all the trouble of trailing me through the high streets cctv!
Thing is he was about 10, worked in a bank and was ginger. So they had to let me go with a caution. It WAS an inconvenience. Sort of like a very dull episode of "The Bill".
It is a irony that there have been many arrestable offences in my chequered past that have been ignored and I get a caution for calling a banker a... well, a merchant...
As to my crimes of the past, most would obviously be possession, possibly a little bit of very minor dealing, and the odd piece of profitting from lax security at work. Nothing nasty. I did spend a night cell-bound once after mooning a police car, I was very drunk and hadn't noticed it's large blue rooflights. The major mistake was doing it at a roundabout when they were practically stopped right next to me. It is amazing I haven't been more noticed by the cops. I did live in London through most of my reckless criminality and it must have been very small fry compared to the real baddies. Still...
Anyway, I have revenge to plot....
Thing is he was about 10, worked in a bank and was ginger. So they had to let me go with a caution. It WAS an inconvenience. Sort of like a very dull episode of "The Bill".
It is a irony that there have been many arrestable offences in my chequered past that have been ignored and I get a caution for calling a banker a... well, a merchant...
As to my crimes of the past, most would obviously be possession, possibly a little bit of very minor dealing, and the odd piece of profitting from lax security at work. Nothing nasty. I did spend a night cell-bound once after mooning a police car, I was very drunk and hadn't noticed it's large blue rooflights. The major mistake was doing it at a roundabout when they were practically stopped right next to me. It is amazing I haven't been more noticed by the cops. I did live in London through most of my reckless criminality and it must have been very small fry compared to the real baddies. Still...
Anyway, I have revenge to plot....
Wednesday 5 November 2008
Sahara!
Now begins a dry spell. Ran out of money for the time being and the magic tin has emptied. Still coasting on the tail end of last nights drunkeness, but everything is starting to become very real looking. I don't like it.
This has to happen or I would disappear up my own arsehole. I need to sort a few things out. Shopping today, then some proper housework. Christ, I need a spliff. How can I cope with normality? It's so BORING. No, no, must be strong. Shops, vacuum, wash up, tidy toys away.
These dry spells, as I've mentioned, are vital to the body, the finances and the state of the flat. And it's not as bad as it used to be. For the sake of my daughter I have been sober as a judge for most of the days, only descending into the netherworld of opium eating at night. Without the opium, that was a metaphor.
These daily waits for stupefaction are bearable as there is the prize at the end of the day of a long lounge on the couch, a telly, an xbox, and a few tins of beer. Add a touch of doobie and leave to chill. Maybe not a hellraising night out but suits me. I do get plenty of nights out, two or sometimes three a week. I love a pub. But the truth is it doesn't matter as long as you multiply the beer with the joints. Everything is sweet.
Now, there is no promise of these pleasures. The telly will still go on. The xbox may. There is no more beer or doobie but it can still be a pleasant evening. Maybe a movie, a few comedy shows on the Dave channel. It's just not the same. Why not? I will be more able to appreciate the evening, having fuller use of my senses. Just won't have that cloud of loveliness that settles above me as I lie sprawled on the couch, ash tray on my chest, tin on the coffee table and Radio Times open beside me.
Makes all the difference.
Before, in my younger years, freer of responsibilities than now. I could get stoned all day at work and pissed straight after in the pub. The weekends were a mishmash of whatever was available. Mostly lager punctuated with little trips somewhere to smoke a bit of weed. Often speed and coke, ecstasy and once a bit of temazepam nicked from a pharmaceutical warehouse I worked in, I was in charge of dumping the stock that only had 12 mths or less on the sell-by. (I jacked that in after a couple of months, even I knew it was a bad thing, would you let Olly Reed run a brewery?)
So the dry spells were BAAAAD! Skint and awake (shudder) work is murder, the clocks never move, the pubs seem to be taunting me as I trudge past, looking in the window for a mate who owes me a couple. And back in my rented room, in front of the same shit that kills me when I'm monged, I sit glassy eyed and bored as fuck.
They were rare then, evil but rare. As I've mentioned, the buddy system was in place with a few really good like minded mates and my room was only 50 quid a week all in when I was peeling off well over 200. Usually they came when I switched jobs through boredom or was being paid wages monthly (shudder again). They will me more common now but not unbearable.
Still, I REALLY want a spliff.
And a beer.
Pubs have been open half hour...
This has to happen or I would disappear up my own arsehole. I need to sort a few things out. Shopping today, then some proper housework. Christ, I need a spliff. How can I cope with normality? It's so BORING. No, no, must be strong. Shops, vacuum, wash up, tidy toys away.
These dry spells, as I've mentioned, are vital to the body, the finances and the state of the flat. And it's not as bad as it used to be. For the sake of my daughter I have been sober as a judge for most of the days, only descending into the netherworld of opium eating at night. Without the opium, that was a metaphor.
These daily waits for stupefaction are bearable as there is the prize at the end of the day of a long lounge on the couch, a telly, an xbox, and a few tins of beer. Add a touch of doobie and leave to chill. Maybe not a hellraising night out but suits me. I do get plenty of nights out, two or sometimes three a week. I love a pub. But the truth is it doesn't matter as long as you multiply the beer with the joints. Everything is sweet.
Now, there is no promise of these pleasures. The telly will still go on. The xbox may. There is no more beer or doobie but it can still be a pleasant evening. Maybe a movie, a few comedy shows on the Dave channel. It's just not the same. Why not? I will be more able to appreciate the evening, having fuller use of my senses. Just won't have that cloud of loveliness that settles above me as I lie sprawled on the couch, ash tray on my chest, tin on the coffee table and Radio Times open beside me.
Makes all the difference.
Before, in my younger years, freer of responsibilities than now. I could get stoned all day at work and pissed straight after in the pub. The weekends were a mishmash of whatever was available. Mostly lager punctuated with little trips somewhere to smoke a bit of weed. Often speed and coke, ecstasy and once a bit of temazepam nicked from a pharmaceutical warehouse I worked in, I was in charge of dumping the stock that only had 12 mths or less on the sell-by. (I jacked that in after a couple of months, even I knew it was a bad thing, would you let Olly Reed run a brewery?)
So the dry spells were BAAAAD! Skint and awake (shudder) work is murder, the clocks never move, the pubs seem to be taunting me as I trudge past, looking in the window for a mate who owes me a couple. And back in my rented room, in front of the same shit that kills me when I'm monged, I sit glassy eyed and bored as fuck.
They were rare then, evil but rare. As I've mentioned, the buddy system was in place with a few really good like minded mates and my room was only 50 quid a week all in when I was peeling off well over 200. Usually they came when I switched jobs through boredom or was being paid wages monthly (shudder again). They will me more common now but not unbearable.
Still, I REALLY want a spliff.
And a beer.
Pubs have been open half hour...
Monday 3 November 2008
Tired and Emotional
Nice, almost a week in a haze. Should just get to the further reaches of this week before a rude awakening. I'll need a recuperate then so I will be more blog-ready. I'll check in after tuesdays darts. Love you! xxx
Saturday 1 November 2008
pitstop
Just a brief line to update. Very stoned, bit pissed, quite content for the last couple of days. Immediate future looks similarly veined. Ciao bella!
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