2020
Mostly shit
Mostly shit
"Remember, if you fail anything we're cutting you off."
That was said to me just before exams. That was said to me more than once.
Some people should never have been parents.
In the trenches of bureaucracy a risk of a paper cut still remains high in spite of digital first preference.
I had to leaf though 300 booklets to check I'd inserted a paperclip in each correctly and in bending an inside straight bit on one I jammed it under my right index nail.
A paperclip cut; that's like breakdance fighting.
I have a fat, hairy back. When it's sweaty it itches.
I needed to deal with that in situ on a stationery bike and the most apt to hand device was my novelty DAD ROCKS licence plate---display only, the metal too thin for actual (and illegal) use.
But that very weakness was at the core of its admitted utility as a scratcher as the slender plate could flex then whip-scrape across the afflicted slurry of sweaty back hair and skin bringing gushing of relief.
I grew up as a PoS; and there’s no real need to break that out. But I did. From about eight or nine my life went fully man-tits up. Like, Holy Shit, that’s some fucking messed-up shit.
Now I am a white male and with location and money am in the top three per cent of world wealth earnings and as The Crown so artfully reminds us we are in danger of forgetting our status when whining about bullshit we deal with during our en-rule from dawn to fucking dusk.
I got mad at my old laptop for not working even though it's over ten years old and at 97 per cent memory used. I had to send a stressful ping that I'd promised my future self I'd do and then now self had to do it and the very old machine would not co-operate.
I got so mad my partner hid behind a locked door. I don't blame her.
All those words make sense and, indeed, in the order presented.
That's the modern workscape for you; social media is now part of your day-to-day.
Three useless things that have actively harmed chunks of society; and for what? Nothing. Except lining the pockets of the cigarette, wig and tie makers.
I am a sucker for awesome theme music. I love the The Mandalorian theme as much as GoT and I sing it around the house for mundane activities like doing a poo or laundry.
Four years ago we experienced going down the "wrong trouser leg of time" (1). Here we are and it's 2020 and what if we go down the wrong leg again?
When Sean Connery died the first thought was that what a shame he died before he knew the result.Then what if his departure was sensibly timed? What if his Scottish senses were tingling and he was "Fuck this; I'm oot!"? because Trump was lettin' the tartan team doon?(2)