For the final couple of weeks of panto I was saying to myself, 'Jesus, I cannot wait to do nothing for a while. I literally cannot wait to do nothing.' It's all I could think about. I made a promise to myself that I was going to do pretty much fuck all for the duration of February, fuck it, I deserved it. I have been none stop for the last 3 months.
I said to myself, February, the month of February, it’s got a couple of potential deadly weekends in it.
First, I have Valentines weekend on the 14th, which is never this ‘pain in the arse’ holiday as it is for so many boyfriends out there, it just consists of me & Tara grabbing a bite to eat and then hitting the gargle for about 48 hours. Amazing crack.
Second, I have my birthday on the 19th which when I was kid was the greatest count down ever, but as the years have gone by, it has come less and less significant. I actually had to stop and think about how old I was going to be this year for a minute until it does hit me, yes, I am going to be 29 . . . . . . . fuck, . . . . . . . here listen, I'm sure I'll have a blog closer to the 19th that will delve into my inner terror of getting older so I think I will leave going into that subject until then. But, yeah, my birthday, not a massive celebration any more but definitely a potential savage weekend.
And lets not forget the 6 Nations that commences throughout the month that is February, which I have been eagerly awaiting coming to the end of panto. ps those French cunts are going down on Saturday.
So you are all probably going ('all' . . . . . 'all' I love the way I think there is loads of people actually reading this drivel), but you are all probably going - 'well, how are you enjoying it, Jack? Here you are, first week of February over, 3 more to come, how is it? You must be really enjoying yourself' and to be pretty honest with 'all' of you, all I can say is - 'I am so bored.'
I am bored off my tits, I thought as soon as I got off, I’d be getting my shit together with Radiomade, throwing myself into doing up my new gaf and just generally having constant crack but . . . . . . . no, I haven't,
All I've done with Radiomade is fuck up 2 podcasts with Greg, if you want to listen to the 2nd fuck up attempt, its up on www.radiomade.ie and you can listen and laugh at those 2 clueless buffoons as they try to construct something is semi presentable, you would think after doing the podcast for a season and a half now that it might of gotten more professional, more structured, more fucking quality, more less shit but no, it’s pretty much the opposite. The site looks like shit as well.
I got bored of doing the gaf so quickly aswell, I finally realised the amount of useless crap that I have accumulated over the years, it is actually ridicules, I don't know where all my clothes have gone especially all my socks, they have all seemed to just vanish and I still can't keep my mind off the fact that I cant find Eamon, our pet cactus, amongst all this crap.
And as for the crack, you must be joking. Well, I had a bit of buzz during the weekend but during the week, I'm farting around the gaf, occasionally try to mount a picture on the wall and fail miserably at it and then maybe head into the jacks to rub one out, then realise half way through that your alone in your own gaf and that you don't have to go into the jacks to do it, then maybe afterwards have a shower and whilst in the shower take a piss for a laugh and suddenly remember that you read once that pissing on your foot can get rid of athletes foot, but then you remember, of course, you don't have athletes foot anymore, you got rid of it when you Ma got you this special cream but piss on it anyway, just in case it might come back.
This is my life at the moment, and it is depressing the fuck out of me, I have come to the conclusion, I gotta gets me a fucking job.
Day 1 of the search - Ready, Steady, Go! . . . . . jobs.ie . . . . . now, I'm even more depressed. . . . . . . . I can do none of these jobs.
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