Holey That's Huge

Sorry to anyone viewing this at work whose porn filter gets them in deep shit or whose collegue decides right at this time to walk past and thinks you're a pervert.

But after careful deliberation I've decided that today I'm gonna host a porno shot.

It's not that I'm a pervert (I am but this post is unrelated to that fact) it's just for educational purposes.

Now the question is DOES SIZE MATTER?

Yes I think it does especially when someone whips out a monster like this.



Now what would you do if someone pulled out a penis that huge?
1. Run away in fear
2. Faint. The horror of it.
3. Think it's your lucky day and get to work.
4. Grab a camera to show that beast to everyone.
5. Ride it - like it's no big deal (no pun intended).

Me? A Tree? Are You Sure?

You Are A Cypress Tree

You are strong, adaptable, and striving to be content. You're good at taking what life has to give - even if you don't like it. A passionate lover who can't be satisfied, you are quick tempered at times. You hate loneliness, want love and affection, and need to be needed. A bit of a live wire, you love to gain knowledge any cost... and you can be careless at times.

What's Your Celtic Horoscope?

Freebies

Isn't it really nice to be given things for free?

I opened my mail this morning to find that I had received a letter from Lloyds TSB Internal Group Communications. Every year employees are given some free shares (obviously they do try to avoid it - they invite you to accept them - so if you don't get around to doing so you don't get them (deadline is 21st March) - but on the bright side you only have to do this once!) - now I've been an employee for almost 2 years but this is the first year I qualify for the free shares so I can't honestly say I know how it works. I may just get 1 share (I don't have a clue!) but well it's free so I can't complain but I'm hoping it isn't just 1 share (it says free shares not free share - so I'm hopeful)

Now ain't that the best way to start a new week?

On the annoying side I had 2 tests today (both of which I bunked) and have another on Wednesday. I didn't get any time last week to revise (exception being Thursday - but I wasn't in the mood to study) so I didn't think it worth taking either tests! But I am planning on going for the test on Wednesday so I better go do some work (I'd call it revision but I haven't done anything yet to revise!)

Funny Little Things These So-Called Emotions Are

You know one doesn’t realise how rarely one cries - despite the fact that the world is a pretty shit place. Nor does one realise just how something minor can leave you in a flood of tears - an emotional wreck. Funny things emotions are….

I was caught a little off guard yesterday evening when I meet up with an old friend Jared. He is Canadian. And despite the fact that he has been in the UK for almost 6 years there is still a very Canadian hint to the way he speaks and certain words he uses.

He was telling me about this woman he has been seeing for the last 6 months or so, and I asked him if they did anything special over Valentine’s Day (I’m kind of nosey like that) and what he replied with - really caught me off guard and I ended up not only in tears but ended up sobbing like I’ve never sobbed before.

His simple reply to my question was ‘Nah we didn’t but that’s a whole nuva story’. Now I don’t just randomly burst into tears every now & then and I think it’s been almost 9 years since I actually cried last and even then I cried only barely.

Now if you’re wondering what caused my tears it was that Jared said ‘whole nuvva’ and that was something my uncle Bob use to say very often – he was Canadian you see – and apparently it was the said thing in Canada. I was devastated when he died in June 1998 - I was really close to Bob – I lived with him and my Aunt – and as a result he became the father I never had. Such a simple string of words triggered such a huge emotional response and I was overwhelmed with the need to cry and I must admit I held not even a single tear back. It was like a something erupted within and overcame me.

Jared who is normally quite cold and detached automatically engulfed me in his arms and held me tight. He didn’t even stop to ask what was wrong. Almost psychically something told him what I needed – he responded to my needs perfectly. He just held me whilst I sobbed. I’m not sure how long I sobbed for but Jared’s shirt was pretty wet afterwards. I was so grateful. My legs felt so weak that I’d have collapsed to the ground if he hadn’t wrapped me in his arms so tightly. Maybe he knew I needed him there and then… maybe he didn’t... maybe he just didn't know what else to do.

The most devastating thing when my uncle died was I was 16 and had never lost anyone so dear to me, and the shock and reality of the fact that I would never see him again was horrific and I’m not ashamed to say left me in pieces I barely recovered from. The only other person to die in my lifetime was my maternal grandmother when I was only 3 years old - so it didn’t effect me quite as significantly as when Bob died. He was only in his mid-forties and I never really accepted someone so young could die. And there are some bastards in my family that have lived to be in their nineties (my paternal grandmother was the cruellest women I’ve ever met and she died at ninety-four – though more on her some other time) - the irony of it is cruel itself. It was one of the things that stopped my belief in God.

Mentally I feel so much better now. That emotional breakdown seems to have cleared my system… I’ve built so many walls around my heart that emotional displays like that are quite rare (if not totally non-existent)… But I still feel a pang of sadness everytime I think of Bob – I’m just like my mum when it comes to managing my emotions. But I unlike her never (or rarely it would appear) let my emotions surface.

People say ‘Time heals all wounds’… but something I’ve learnt is that ‘Time may heal a wound - but some wounds fail to heal completely’.

Poor Jared - he might think twice next time I suggest we meet up.

Another Pointless Blog

I think I may have had too much time on my hands today.

It's 4PM - And I've not done anything remotely productive (except having had lunch)

But I did find this video on YouTube. I find it so amusing to see how many weirdos there are out there. Enjoy



I have agreed to meet up with an old friend later on.

Man 2 Man Hug - Instructions

This is video is possibly the funniest thing I've seen in my life.

It's from a website called Videojugs - which amongst other things provides people with videos on how to do certain things - ask people out, etc... but the funniest one I came across was how to give a man-to-man hug. It's so hilarious - enjoy....


VideoJug: How To Give A Great Man To Man Hug

Gosh I didn't realise how awkward it was for a straight guy to give another straight guy a hug. I have no hold-ups about hugging anyone. Now Jules this is what you call hilarious.

(((((HUG))))) to all.

SSD Syndrome

I have a question.... Have you ever fancied someone who you really didn't think was good looking but nonetheless you were inexplicably drawn to?

I ask this random question for a very simple reason - there is a guy at the place where I'm studying accountancy at the minute - now truth be told I don't think I've even exchanged a 'hello' with the guy let alone anything else but for some strange unexplainable reason I am completely drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And the most unusual thing is I really don't fancy him nor am I attracted to his personality (like I said I haven't spoken to him) nor does he ooze sex appeal. He really isn't good looking but he is fairly well built (possibly the only thing he has going for him) and has a very aloof look to him - his dress sense is appalling and he is very unkempt - he had a dreadfully unappetising thin moustache (almost French-like in appearance) and some fluff on his chin (I'd call it a beard - but it really isn't anything remotely similar to a beard - fluff best describes it) and hair that should have seen a hairdresser several months ago. I'm not even gonna mention his sideburns. A detailed picture I hope I'm painting - so you can see he isn't even remotely what I'd call 'Eye Candy' but I find that my eyes wonder over to where he is sitting and I stare until I force myself to look away.

What worries me is the signal I'm sending (I don't mean to) and I know he has caught me looking several times (he'd be stupid to not realise) but I really don't understand why I keep doing this. And I find I am drawn to him.

Am I alone in this unsavoury behaviour? I've begun calling it SSD Syndrome - Staring Seemingly Desperately Syndrome....

Although I maybe put it down to the fact that every potential accountant there is just plain ugly (exception being me of course) and I'm drawn to the least-worse looking one - I can't think of any other explanation.

Weird innit?

No Blues On Results Day

I find that the person I am means I tend to start most of my posts on a negative. Today I'm not. Today I'm on cloud number 9 - and best of all it's results day and you know what that means.... I passed all my exams - even the ones where it was touch and go.

2.1 - Information Systems - 77/100
2.3 - Business Taxation - 73/100
2.4 - Financial Management & Control - 78/100
2.5 - Financial Reporting - 66/100

Pass marks are 50 and I thought I really did badly in Tax and I was really shocked to see 73% - how wicked it that. And Info Systems I did like so little work for and 77% is fab for an exam I put at max 4/5 days work into.

I worked really hard for Tax and Financial Reporting - so had I failed Tax I'd have pretty gutted but I'd been talking to myself that there was a chance to let me down easy if it came to that - I'm glad it didn't. It's not that I'd have to take Tax gain that would have bothered me but the problem would have been two-fold - 1. was I worked pretty dam hard and 2. I'd have to have dropped 3.2 Advanced Tax which would have been crushing as that would have been an exam I'd have lingering to take in Dec 2007 instead of June 2007 (both exams are on the same slot).
I'm slightly (not significantly) bothered that I only got 66% in Financial Reporting as I felt I might do better - like I said I put a lot of work in that subject so I was expecting 70% plus but 66% isn't bad so I'll not act devastated (mostly because I'm not).
Financial Management & Control was a shocker. 78% - wow - I knew I didn't do badly but that is fantastic for an exam I crammed for at the end (4/5 days again) - it was my final exam and despite not wanting too - I left it all to the days between it and the days after exam before it.

All in all I am really pleased. Unfortunately a lot of my mates didn't do so good. And I feel for them.
Mate 1 failed 2.1 with 39/100 - annoyingly he asked me to check his results for him by accessing his email and I must say telling him he failed 2.1 was one of the hardest things I've done in ages and he almost refused to believe I was being serious. Ouch - note to self: don't check anyone's results for them in the future but rather make up a lame excuse stating you can't access the Internet.
Mate 2 failed 2.2 unsure by how much (I didn't have to do this crappy exam - thankfully - its Corporate Law)
Haven't spoken to other mates but from what mate 1 says many failed 1 or 2

Looking back I know this year I'll have to make sure I don't leave so much work for the month before the exams as I did in November for the Dec 2006 exams. Start revising from March and I can't go wrong. I'd pat myself on my back - but It'd hurt as the tattoo is has been hurting for the last few days and so I'll wait until it's healed a bit more.

On the bright side I told my Aunt before she left for work and I got a hug from her (which is quite significant as we've not been talking since Tuesday last week when I got my tattoo) and therefore I didn't tell her she actually hurt me when she hugged me as her arms squeezed into my tattoo - I'll just say 'no pain no gain' (which is something I'm getting sick and tired of hearing from the amount of times I've heard it in the last week)

Valentine Mayhem

I know it’s well past Valentine’s Day now but one must be entitled to his rant sooner or later.

I can’t say I hate Valentine’s Day… I’m too much of a romantic at heart to admit to that, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not entitled to moan about it.

Tia rang me Wednesday (I’ve changed her name for anonymity) in a flood of tears… It would appear that Kevin (who has also had his changed) her other half (her better half until the 14th Feb – no longer obviously) did something rather unsavoury for her on Valentine’s Day… surprise surprise… He made the fatal mistake of not recognising Valentine’s Day was on Wednesday and not Thursday. So when she turned up at his door she was horrified to find him in his boxer shorts, unshaven and unwashed at 6pm when she’d booked a table at a local restaurant for 6.15PM. What was she doing at her house he asked her, surprise clearly showing on his face! She tried calmly to explain they’d agreed to go out on Valentine’s Day and she would be coming around to his at 6pm. To then say shit flew was probably nowhere near the reality of what happened.

This is what they said (independently of course)
Tia said she was really upset and he antagonised her so she scratched him a little.
Kevin said Tia attacked him mercilessly and without warning. And spent was he thought was Valentine’s Day nursing his multiple slash wounds and would have gone to A&E if he wasn’t mortified.

I couldn’t help but laugh – better to be single no? I did some peacekeeping work and Tia has stopped referring to Kev as that ‘Fucking Bum’ and Kevin has stopped referring to Tia as that ‘Psycho Bitch’… I’d still not dare to place them together in a room alone yet or talk directly. I have Kevin’s mobile and thankfully he doesn’t have a landline.

As if that wasn’t bad enough I had a crisis of my own.

I don’t know what it is about Valentine’s Day that makes one go from surviving to COMPLETELY desperate when the clock hits 12AM and the 13th of February turns into the 14th of February… But it was like at 12AM my ex Sid (his real name) seemed to have an epiphany that I was his Soul Mate and he bombarded my mobile with texts telling me he still loves me demanding me to be his Valentine. At 1AM and it being less than 12 hours since I’d had my tattoo I was in no mood to play games with someone who I dumped almost a year ago nor was I desperate enough to say I loved him back solely on the fact that I didn’t want to be alone on Valentine’s Day. However this guy as I discovered was a touch emotionally unstable so I had to play it safe. I told him I was seeing someone on and off, and have been for several months now. The texts stopped instantly. That dealt with I aimed to get some rest, sleep far from achievable with a tattoo on my back.

When it was 7AM I felt no longer able to keep up the charade of sleeping so I awoke… I showered and got ready (if by wearing a pair of jeans is classed getting ready – I wore no top in order to air the tattoo).

By 12PM my mobile started beeping again. It was the girl I’ve dated a couple of times in the last few months rather coyly asking who I was spending Valentine’s Day with – by asking what I doing tonight. When I evaded her question with my tattoo, she came across more directly and asked if I was spending Valentine’s Day with anyone. I said no and she seemed quite pleased with that. Though for all intensive purposes we communicated via text for long enough to serve an eight course meal at a rather slow restaurant

Now as my clock approached 3PM I decided to have my second shower. No sooner had I finished that, that I heard someone singing outside. I ignored it thinking it the neighbour’s daughter. Although after a while I realised it was a male voice and curiosity got the better of me and I had a look to see who it was. I was horrified to see Sid and I turned a deep shade of red (for someone with brown skin this is no easy task) and ran knocking into numerous things before I got to the front door and cursed the stupid idiot and demanded he get in – I looked around and noticed several curtains twitching – it would appear several people noticed him before I did. Any hint of my calm amiable personality had evaporated and I was effing and blinding & demanded to know what the fuck he was doing serenading me outside my home. I made the fatal mistake of inviting him to my house several years ago ‘to do the gay thing’ (my first gay thing actually) and since then he routinely made a habit of turning up on my door at rather awkward moments. Now don’t get me wrong Sid is a great guy but is so clingy and high maintenance that it does my head in. When I first met him it was sweet, however when I didn’t reply to his text within 30 seconds I’d be texted over and over again asking if I was upset with him or if something was wrong. I dumped him shortly after his behaviour got out-of-control and unbearable.

Having ascertained he was jealous and lonely I told him in no uncertain terms that he and I were very much over and he was not winning me over at all like this. In tears he left and I must admit I felt pretty nasty for sending him away like that, but knowing him he would have taken it the wrong way had I let him stay for even a little while. I got six text messages as the day went by from him asking if we could still be friends. I was no annoyed I replied precisely zero times.

So that folks was the story of my Valentine’s Day. Eventful or what?

A Failed Change of Subject

I told myself yesterday that this was the last time I'd blog in specific regard to my tattoo. And I even knew what I was going to blog about today - Valentine's Day, my ex and the girl I've been on a couple of dates with. But that all went to shit.

The reason: My tattoo.

After 3 days it's begining to peel now and itches like crazy and I can't think of anything else but scratching it. Terry (my tattooist warned me about this and stressed I should not scratch it no matter how badly I want to).

I'm wondering now if I kill Terry does that negate him telling me so?

Arrgghhh....

Aftercare

I think I may have underestimated the stress of getting a tattoo.

In my mind the worst part was getting it done and dealing with the familial consequences of not conforming to be a typical yes-sir-no-sir Indian lad that my folks can be proud of.

It really hasn't worked like that.

The easiest part was getting the tattoo done. It felt right and I have not regretted it for even a nanosecond. Okay I won't lie - it hurt like hell... and took forever but it was well worth it. I think the worse part of getting it done was the fact that time seems to escape you. I was face down on a reclining chair and had the fantastic view of a cabinet with a cash till on it, oh and the door to the back room where they pierce people's things (I'd say ears but I know that's not all they pierce - most especially from what a girl got pierced whilst I was there).

I was there in his chair for what must have been an hour and a half already (like I say I didn't have a watch and time was all relative) but judging from the number of songs playing on the radio and the number of customers who got piercings & little tattoos I assumed it was an hour and a half. I must admit I was nearing my pain tolerance threshold when the following conversation took place:

Me: Terry mate have you finished the outline yet?

Terry: No.

Me: Huh? You must be having a laugh? It's been over an hour... Seriously? Or are you having me on?

Terry: Seriously mate I'm still on the outline.

As much as I didn't want to believe it... I didn't think he was lying because he was working from left to right and he hadn't been on my right for as long as he was on my left.

Me: How long mate?

Terry: About 20/30 minutes still.

Now if the outline was going to take this long I knew I'd have problems getting this finished. I needed a break.

Me: Okay just let me know when you've done the outline. I need a couple of minutes break.

Terry: Okay

All the whilst a trainee was watching. Ben I think his name was. Or maybe Ben was the other tattooist. I'm not sure now - I had other things on my mind - like PAIN. My face was level with his crotch and I saw his belt read: Valor: Fear Fight Fuck. He was kinda cute but a little dense. I spoke to him for a while but the stupidest thing that came out of his mouth was "Is it feeling like a massage yet".... I really didn't know how to respond to that. Nothing witty came to mind (I excused myself I was in sheer agony after all) so I just laughed and said "No but hopefully any minute now"

It was after maybe just under about half an hour when Terry stopped and asked me if I wanted to have a look and that he'd finished the outline now. By this time my neck was worse than the area on my back with the tattoo and I desperately wanted to move my neck about a bit and would have given just about anything for a break so I agreed - although I wasn't particularly keen on seeing it half done. He led me to a mirror (after telling me off for trying to get a look in the small mirror up front) and I almost had tears in my eyes when I saw that the whole thing was done. I turned around and glared at him but I just couldn't suppress the pleasure at seeing the whole thing done and couldn't really be mad at him. So we both had a real good laugh at my expense.

Here I stood... proud like hell. Me 'Master of All Wusses' with a huge first tattoo on my back. It is a moment I'll live with for the rest of my life.

And now with all that behind me... I honestly feel the worst part is it's aftercare. I have to wash it with warm water 3 times a day. With soap (I haven't used soap since the early 90s - it's been shower gel shower gel shower gel). And then I have to apply some tattoo healing goo which takes ages. And worse is I have to keep my shower to a bare minimum (that's a drop from 30/40 minutes to 5/10 minutes) as I'm not allowed to let the tattoo soak in water too much or have a Sauna (which a normal shower of mine is classified as).

And if that wasn't bad enough I've had to kiss sleep goodnight for a couple of weeks.

So I'm not even allowed to use a long hot shower to soothe away the lack of sleep at night or to ease any of my aching muscles either.

Picture

The Deed Is Done

I'm pleased to announce that I've had my first tattoo.

I'm so very pleased with myself and my new tattoo. Picture soon....

Second Thoughts Galore

Oh crap. My aunt asked me unflinchingly yesterday what my plan was today... I didn't want to lie and so I said it's my session at the tattooist. To then say 'shit hit the fan' would be the understatement of the century.

Worse than that was that I spent most of yesterday night tossing and turning. I normally sleep on my back but yesterday I tried sleeping on my front and/or side (the tattoo I'm getting is on my back so I won't be able to sleep on my back for several days now so I was trying to see if I could sleep on my front. The answer is no I can't.

As a result of staying awake most of the night I was really thinking about the tattoo. Appartently if I get it done I will be homeless (according to my Aunt I'm not to come home if I have it done). This still has not deterred me. But it did make me think of the last time I dared defy her so open and daringly. It was when I was 18 and I was going to be spending the night at a mate's (a girl) and she said I couldn't. I did. And shit flew then as well. Normally when we clash - I give in. I guess she expects it now. Maybe this is probably why she isn't taking this as well as she ought to be.

But I did wake this morning to find there are some second thoughts now - more related to my Aunt than myself. Should I do this when I know how strongly she is against it? How will the next few days shape out? Will I regret crossing her?

I just have to accept if something does go wrong she'll be the first in line to say I told you so. And worse is that I know I'll be in pain afterwards and the way I'm going I'm gonna have little sympathy from anyone (everyone I've told in my family has stated they'd be against the idea od me getting this tattoo) and I'm begining to realise if I weren't so determined I may have not got it done.

Only an hour and a half left now. Yikes...

Anybody for any second thoughts?

The problem with second thoughts is that they are normally followed by third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth and tenth thoughts (I could go on but you get the message).
More often than not, in the span of a few minutes.
And frequently in the middle of the night when you’re trying to sleep.
And especially in the middle of something very very important when you should be concentrating.
Or worst when you really don’t want to be thinking about it.

I’m still waiting.
I’ve yet to have any second thoughts about my tattoo.
Excluding of course… the sick to my gut feeling of impending doom, or the random thoughts of the millions of things that can go wrong or the voice in my head screaming like a hysteric madman (or rather madwoman) ‘No…… don’t do it you fool… nnnnooooooo’ .
But none of these are classified as second thoughts - are they? I’ve labelled these as expected but unfortunate… fears. FEAR. Pure and simple. FEAR. Unadulterated and uncomplicated. FEAR.

I’ve found my emotions on this subject fit neatly into three categories.
1. Rational fear (which is understandable it is a tattoo for fuck sake and also understandable coz I’m a big fat wuss – metaphorically speaking of course)
2. Excitement (also understandable I’ve wanted one for as far back as I can remember)
3. Second thoughts (expected but not even a single one is present)

Tick tick tick. Tuesday is a day closer. I only have to hold out for 1 more day… Tomorrow is the big day. At 10AM.

My Aunt hasn’t approached the topic of my impending tattoo yet (not since the first time on Friday) – in hindsight I don’t think I mentioned when I’m getting it done – only that I’ve spoken to someone and given them the design and booked the session.

Aum? Nah!

I’m not sure that I’ve ever mentioned this (and I can’t be bothered to check all my posts) but my nickname at school was Smiley (the only nickname I’ve ever had – my real first name is really short – nicknames always seems pointless).

Why was it Smiley? Because I always managed a smile for anyone who demanded one! Even if I were feeling like shit I’d still have a grin for all to see (I’ve now put it down to the fact that it was a defence mechanism designed to avoid anyone getting too close or know my true emotions).

But now it’s almost second nature. There is always a smile on my face, and if there isn’t – it’s not too far behind. However there are some days when being Smiley just requires too much effort, more effort than I’m willing too spare. Take these last few days for instance. I’d mentioned to my Aunt some months back that I was thinking of getting a tattoo, she brushed me off saying don’t be silly. Fine I thought. I’d get one and then I’ll say I told you I was getting one and you brushed me off. However shortly afterwards she stopped by my room and said hypothetically if you were to get one what would you get? This was before I had decided. So I said I didn’t know maybe… a word, a phrase, a ambigram, or a dragon. She gave me a look that said ‘yeah right’, and to my disgust suggested I get an ‘Aum’ – a religious Hindu symbol (see picture)

‘WHAT?’ I screamed. In my mind primarily I thought it was far too Hindu rude boy – the ones that attempt to rebel by getting a tattoo without really pissing off their parents, so they get one that their parent’s can’t really get mad at. Besides I’d wager out of every ten Indians’ with a tattoo, nine have a picture of an ‘Aum’. That’s so not me. I want a unique tattoo, not one that thousands of people have.

It wasn’t the fact that she suggested I get the Aum that pissed me off. She is deeply religious and often imparts her religious opinion on others (especially me), so I can’t really say I was surprised… but what pissed me off was she knows I DON’T believe in God (shock horror this is as bad as being gay). For her to then go and suggest that I scar on my body (for life) a picture of a religious symbol is madness as far as I’m concerned. Like having a picture on my arm or back would make ‘turn’ religious all of a sudden. Why can’t she just accept I’m an Atheist and get on with it, I really don’t understand… like when it’s a religious day I have to go to Temple with them coz it’s the done thing. I do as it makes her happy as does it my parents… If it makes them happy I guess it’s a small price to pay.

Several months passed on the topic of the tattoo but then…

…yesterday of all days she saw the design (I have a paper copy of the design on my desk) and asked me what it was. I told her (she’d find out eventually and I didn’t want to lie). She flipped. She then told me I was stupid. Told me it would cost £100 and that was such a colossal waste of money (I didn’t think it wise to correct her that it was £140). She then callously reminded me that I was shit scared of needles and insisted I’d not cope having it done, when she didn’t get the response she was looking for she dropped the subject by walking away cursing me intently at the top of her lungs from the other room for several minutes (I turned up my stereo to blare her out)

I think she is beginning to realise that she no longer holds the reins on my life and decisions, and deep down I think that really upsets her, because she so enjoys being in control. I normally cringe and avoid conflict by giving in but I’m determined on this and I think it showed.

Truthfully I want to cry (the lack of support is debilitating) but then ‘Smiley’ deep inside me says ‘chin up son… tomorrow is another day’ and I can’t help but suppress a smile (or two…)

Lifetime Design Continued

I've finally done it. No I haven't had the tattoo yet but the next best thing. I've spoken to the guy about it, given him the design, determined how much it will cost (£140) and booked the session for coming Tuesday and paid a deposit.

Yippee me.

Lifetime Design

I'm pleased to announce that after over 6 years of searching I've actually found a tattoo design that I like, one that I feel is not common (don't correct me if I'm wrong) and one that I may not regret for the rest of my life. I think I've come to the point where I am ready to get it done. If I fail to do any of the listed 25 New Year Resolutions I will be content if I do manage to pluck up the courage and get a tattoo. I even researched the place I want it done.... Tattoo UK based in Rayners Lane, Harrow. I even have the telephone number in my hand and hopefully I'm only a call away from booking an appointment.


Wish me luck. Here is the design I have in mind.

NYR - No16 - tick

Whilst updating look of my blog last week I decided to write down some thoughts as the sub heading to go under my blog title: waiting for life… which I’m sure most have noticed alongside my fancy new picture of the fit Angel and all. However once I’d completed what I was planning on putting there, I discovered that I could only load a sub heading of a maximum 500 characters including spaces. So I began editing it like crazy as the original version was a massive 2304 characters long. Unfortunately in such a severe edit the gist of the flipping thing changed, but I uploaded it nonetheless. But I didn’t have the heart to delete the whole thing so I transferred it into word where it has lain since. However I wrote it to share and I’m posting it here, at the least it can count as a something I’ve written, the closest I imagine I’ll get around to writing a poem on my NYR List (no 16 of my New Year Resolutions List) – which I’m amending to read: 16. Write something like a poem. See post: NYR

Here I am with my knees, elbows and palms to the ground, in contemplation. I've been naughty. Oh so naughty. I’ve crossed that unpredictable invisible line again. The Angels glance away, shock and horror hardening their eyes, all the while the Devil dances in delight. I’ve lost count of the sins I’ve committed? Whatever will I do to appease the Gods? I’ve become snared in the crossfire. It would appear in my heart I've lost the faith. This faith it would appear is as slippery as an eel, the tighter I grip, the more it slides away. I sip morphine like wine in a dirty forgotten cup; the pain is far too much. Deeper and deeper it pushes. In and out, in rapid succession, it makes me think of a soft gentle woodpecker. Mentally I attempt to force the pain to subside… It’s like I have been swimming in a lake of pain. Or like I’m sitting on an active volcano. Pleasure nodes explode numbing me. I forget all, I am higher up than even the Gods, soaring up amongst the stars, lost in reverie I think of sailors. My proud member is like bait for a shark. It always hooks. My world darkens… It’s always so cold here even despite the heat and friction. Suddenly the world shifts and I begin to fall… I always find my way back down, even when I’ve managed to escape so far. I see the road towards nowhere as the world spins in retaliation to the abuse I've inflicted upon myself. It burns like fire. I collide face first, when did my world become so foggy? Seeping away from me is a puddle of fresh crimson blood. It worries me that it is not the first time. Stark and naked I catch my breath wondering what the future holds? There are no fig leaves on this windy road that I may use to cover my modesty or hurt. Passers-by gawk as though I’m really naked, as I look down I realise I am. After all I’ve bared my heart and soul for all to see. A stray tear streaks down my cheek as I realise no-one stops to comfort me. Left alone it will fester so I wipe it away. A dam bursts, as I begin to drown a pain engulfs me and wholly I shudder. In sweat I spring awake. A patch of red is all I have left to act as a reminder. Are these nightmares that plague me an indication of my destiny? Is my future so bleak? I wonder again, am I truly awake? Or living a nightmare? Maybe just maybe this is my life. Welcome!

Having just read that again today I can see what Mr Harrison (my English Teacher back in the days of High School) meant when he said ‘most of the stuff you write is dark and full of double meaning’. Enjoy.

Worrisome Reflections

Saturday evening. 4.45PM. SSD is at his local library looking for a book. [BB style voice]

I went to the library to pick up a book by Trudi Canavan, called Last of the Wilds. But while I was meandering the shelves looking for the fantasy section I came face to face with the health section, and a book lying on the floor just in front of the shelves. Now as domesticated as I am, I decided to pick up the book in order to return it to the shelf. As soon as I touched it however I felt an urge to let it go (I didn't I held on to it), I can't explain why but maybe it was a mix of shock, curiosity and horror. The book was called 'Boys Get Anorexia Too'.

Now I'm not stupid, but I'd be lying if I ever considered that boys could get anorexia too. It's just a chain of thoughts my mind has never taken. I'm not sure at what point exactly that the shock/horror turned into pure curiosity... but I found myself opening the book in order to flick through it. What I discovered frightened me, a list of symptoms. About some 20 odd long symptoms. And worst of all in my pre-adolescence & teens I'd say I related to about two thirds, and a handful probably still apply. The main one was obviously 'a fear of getting fat' when you look like a stick insect. Suddenly like a silent hurricane a flood of memories crashed in on me like a tsunami. I stood frozen. I recalled... Never wanting to finish a meal. Hating the feeling of being bloated. Feeling guilty eating chocolate. Always looking it the mirror. Weighting myself regularly. Saying I had a stomach ache when I didn't want to eat. Hiding food in some kitchen towel and throwing it away. Always walking off a meal. Lying that I wasn't hungry when I was. Generally having a negative association with excessively deep fried foods.

This is according to the book a form of mild Anorexia.

I always excused my deeply embedded fear of getting fat... I always put it down to my father - a fear of not wanting to turn into him. He was like I, thin and fairly tall in the days of his youth, now he is borderline obese. If I got into his clothes there would be space for a mini party inside. I'd easily accommodate 5 similarly sized people. There is usually a cause for Anorexia - I think I've found mine.

Now how do I learn to use this info to become stronger when I feel sick to my stomach and weak in the knees. I've always been a firm believer - 'if it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger' - and I ain't dead yet...

Harry Potter

I'm slightly upset today. It would appear that none of my straight mates want to spend £50 to see Harry Potter (AKA Daniel Radcliffe) naked.

Now if I'm dead serious I can't say Daniel Radcliffe ever really pushed any of my buttons. Yes I have seen all the Harry Potter movies, but I would have seen all of them regardless of whether or not Daniel Radcliffe had played Harry. I love JK Rowling and the Harry Potter series.

But has anyone seen the promo photos of Equus? Whoa Daniel Radcliffe looks fresh and sexy. Here are some of the better ones I've come across... No matter who you are... you have got to admit he looks HOT. And that's just a photo - he must be just as hot in person.

Note to self: Make more gay friends, or begin converting straight ones.

Forced Changeover

It would appear that gently goading me into accepting the new Goggle Blogger was not working, so today I was slightly shocked to see that Google/E-Blogger had taken a more of a totalitarian approach. I was coerced and given no choice but to make the changeover - it was changeover or not enter my blog. Oh well... it's not as bad as I had imagined, although I'm a bit hurt that I lost my old template, its counterpart 'Dark Dots' didn't look as nice.

I need a bit of an ego boost. Is this one okay?

Although on the bright side I've finally managed to figure out how to add 'blogs I read'... so I think I'm coming around to see this as a good thing. But I don't like this labels business so I'm just gonna ignore that. My way of rebelling.

Contacts Contacts Contacts

Instead of my normal annoying the shit out of & flirting with my local Optician Mr RC I've managed to sort out an alternative avenue for acquiring contacts. Costco. I've been annoying my uncle for ages to take me (he runs a business so is always in and out of Costco) so when he rang me today to ask whether I wanted to accompany him I almost fainted in shock. Using this excursion away from home as a perfect excuse to get away from my pile of advanced tax homework I quickly said yes before he changed his mind. So off I went.

I'm slightly annoyed now. Not only do I have a hole in my pocket for £123*. I returned home with exactly NO CONTACTS. Apparently they didn't have the ones I needed in stock, they had about six billion others but not the ones I'd need/wanted. So I have to wait a few more days but at least I'll have 3 months supply when they arrive.

I think I'm gonna miss my flirting sessions with my Optician Mr RC (he is kinda cute). He is from Specsavers. I use to go D&A for my contacts but they kept increasing the price, last time I checked it was £160 for 3 months supply for 1-day Acuvue - I now get them for less than half of that - I can't believe I actually use their 'contacts by post' service for almost 2 years. That's more than £600 I threw away. So I switched to Specsavers, who were quite expensive but nowhere near as bad as D&A. I find Tesco, Asda & Costco are the most cost-effective. Besides the money I save on contacts are spent on grooming products, and you can never get enough of those.

* £83 for the contacts, £10 for the eye-test & £30 for 1 years' registration as a customer - apparently as an employee of a bank I'm entitled to become a member - no more kissing anyone's ass to go I'm a fully fledged member now