Pain, pleasure, and pastimes

I am very relieved to announce that the temperature has finally dropped considerably. I just couldn’t take anymore days of suffocating humidity. It’s still not cool enough to crawl under the many layers I have on my bed, but at least we’re now experiencing sensible summer temperatures. It’s like when a neighbour listens to music at a sociable volume - you still don’t enjoy their taste in music, but at least it’s not invading your, erm, personal ear space.

I had a panic attack about the telephone company when I woke up this morning, which I could have done without, but a quick wank cleared my mind and enabled me to get up and start brewing my morning cafetière of coffee. Today’s fantasy featured a guy helping his younger brother lose his virginity by allowing him to have sex with his older brother’s willing girlfriend.

It was cute, but figuring out the grammar for the above synopsis was not.

At 2 am this morning, there was a strange altercation between two men outside. FYI this is not another sex fantasy. They both sounded drunk or high and were casually walking down the street chatting. Suddenly, one of the men threw something then ran off. The other man, confused, just said: “Why did he do that?! Weird!”, then wandered off humming to himself. You tell me. I’ve officially given up trying to work out what the people around here are up to.

Speaking of which, “Barking Dog Man” and “Obnoxious Camp Guy” were just having a friendly conversation outside. Now, bear in mind, they were about thirty yards apart, so they were having to shout. Great, two of the most annoying people on the street engaged in a shouting match. Just what you need on a quiet Saturday afternoon!

I might put an extra ticket on tonight’s lottery.

I managed to write a review-that’s-not-a-review-but-really-is article about the film Robot Monster for The Whittling Post before bed last night, which I’m quite proud of. Those posts generally do get quite a lot of views, so at least I’m pleasing somebody in this life.

I have something of a headache this morning, which I’m wondering whether is to do with the release in air pressure. I’ve also got itchy and painful sores on my back, just below my right shoulder, which don’t seem to be going away. I initially assumed they were to do with my skin rubbing against the damp summer perspiration towels I put down on my bed at night (gross, huh?), but now I’m not so sure. If it’s skin cancer, I won’t be seeking treatment. I’ll just hope it finishes me off sooner rather than later.

I might order a takeaway later. I’ve inadvertently started using Food Hub, which I thought was one restaurant’s own website. I thought this because the entire link is the restaurant’s name, so not “Food-Hub-slash-Restaurant-Name”. Know what I mean? Anyway, I hope FH isn’t as hated as Just Eat, which seemed to just be screwing everyone over. When a company shuts down its customer helpline, then you know something’s wrong.

The cooler weather means I’m able to play more than just two races in GTA Online without my console overheating, so that makes a nice change from playing only Downwell and Trials Fusion over and over again. My deteriorating eyesight means there aren’t many games I can use nowadays, which is as depressing as it sounds.

I’ve just had my toast therapy and am now due a bath. The day is racing along at a brisk pace, which is unusual.

I shall leave you all to the rest of your weekends.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

The illusion of convenience

Well, that missed parcel problem sorted itself out. As it turns out, my postman left it with a neighbour downstairs, but Royal Mail’s ”new and improved” card-with-no-information-on-it didn’t mention that. So, I put it to you, patient reader, which would have been simpler:

Writing my neighbour’s flat number on a detailed card.

OR

Taking out a phone > turning the phone on > typing in the phone’s passcode > opening the company app > scanning the missed parcel card’s barcode > selecting what’s going to be done with the parcel > typing in my neighbour’s flat number > confirming the action > closing that item screen > closing the app > turning off the phone > putting the phone back in its pocket.

You tell me, but I have an idea.

Sadly, this all means that my gossiping neighbours now all know my full name. Uh oh. I’m off most social media, but I have mentioned my name over at The Whittling Post in the last year or so. I’ve now gone through and removed those references, just in case. I could really do without my neighbours knowing my intimate thoughts and feelings.

Including what turns me on, in the form of my erotic short fiction.

So, yes, I now have two sets of digital phone equipment for the engineer to instal on Monday. Sigh. I’ll let him pick and choose which one he wants to use and ask him nicely to return the other one to his employers. We shall see.

I made that pesto pasta, although it accidentally became more elaborate than I intended it to be. There’s now a massive tub of pasta with pesto and ham and sweetcorn and cheese and spices in the fridge. I wish I could stick to my simpler plans!

I still have my monthly Audible audiobook credit to use up. I’ve not felt very inspired to read of late, probably due to my prolonged patch of alcoholism. Maybe I’ll go fiction this time. Any recommendations? Nothing too heavy though. I am a big softy, after all.

No drop in temperature, unfortunately. In fact, even the breeze has now dissipated. “Barking Dog Man” still resides downstairs, as he’s currently baring his dipshit dub-step crap at full volume.

No wanks. Just random anxiety attacks.

What’s the point of it all, huh?

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!  

A radioactive wasteland of b.s.

I’ve had a good night’s sleep, at last. It began in the usual hour-or-so chunks, but then escalated into a mega 8-hour orgy of unconsciousness. What a rare delight! I mean, this was after I gave up on the initial sleep attempt and sat watching movies for 7 hours, but whatever. That’s what it takes, folks.

Just missed a delivery from the post office, for which I received a card through the door. The card has little to no information on it to help me, just the creepy epitaph: “We have something for you!”. I now feel like I’m in a slasher movie. The card just goes on and on about how it’s their new and improved card that is apparently more helpful. Cough. I tried entering what I think is a code into their website, but it didn’t work. Sigh. I genuinely believe it’s socially irresponsible and misguided to assume that everyone has the internet nowadays, but that’s the way things are going. This is how dystopian stories about robot apocalypses usually begin.

Just feed us to the slaughter, corporate world. We are lambs to your grinding machine of bullshit.

My new neighbour is moving more stuff into the flat next door. I still haven’t met him yet, but his door was open when I checked to see whether that parcel had been left outside my door. I seemed to hear the dog from downstairs barking its usual incessant bark miles away last night, which was weird. Either its owner has finally been kicked out of the flat downstairs, or he’s just shacked up with some other poor woman and was staying over. He mistreats them, sadly, even shouting violent threats at one a few months ago. The police turned up, but “Barking Dog Man” is still, bafflingly, a free citizen.

Perhaps his antisocial behaviour and domestic abuses are being fed into an AI justice-bot that deems him innocent.

I’m so glad technology is now being used for the benefit of mankind.

I miss porn so much.

There’s a mild breeze in the air today, which is slightly cooling things down. I began to suffocate again later in the evening yesterday, but that eased off as I sat by my lounge window in the early hours. I watched RLM’s new Best of the Worst video, which was fun. My soul really needed some humour. It’s interesting that they were watching Cannon films, as I’ve started watching Cannon’s Missing in Action 2. OMG… we’re in the matrix!

Hmm, maybe not, as surely the food would be better.

Speaking of which, I think I’ll make pesto pasta for dinner later. You know, just to be fancy. I had turkey burgers yesterday, which were nice, although I’m not sure the brioche buns went well with them. I’ll probably just go back to the big, fat, white, seeded burger buns of yore.

Good times.

Not feeling terribly amorous today, but I may try having a wank before I go for my bath. My mind doesn’t seem to quite know what it’s into this week, so I’m workshopping a few fantasies around to see what, erm, sticks. Feel free to recommend any that work for you!

Right, I best go try that missed delivery code again, in the vague hope that it’ll finally be on their broken system.

SMASH THE SERVERS!

Do stay in touch, robot overlords.

Toodles! 

Missing in tedium

It’s been a couple of days now since I last drank, but a background sense of anxiety still persists. I’m plowing on with sobriety though, as I do need to sort some crap out. Even if you give up on the world, sadly the world doesn’t give up on you, stubbornly sending letters and emails and texts and ringing you.

It’s not easy being a depressed, disabled, alcoholic shut-in!

The hot weather persists too, much to my chagrin. I’m breathing a little easier today though, which makes a nice change. Plenty of chilled or quick to cook food arrived earlier, so I’ve got that to be getting on with. The delivery was late, but I didn’t even get a halfhearted apology. Oh well, I don’t get upset about such things. There were two delivery drivers, one of whom I believe was in training. He was a cute younger lad, who I really could have done with keeping for myself.

Maybe some day.

“Obnoxious Camp Guy” eventually got really drunk last night, with things degenerating into a very loose approximation of “karaoke”. It was as if he was reverting to animal form. Seriously. But, hey, we’ve all been there. Due to all this, he has been oddly quieter today. I wonder why.

The phone company has sent me a text about them posting another set of digital phone equipment for installation, even though they’ve already sent some out and comically asked me to send it back. I didn’t. The installation chap is turning up on Monday, so I’ll try getting him to return whichever one he wants back to his employer. I sure as shit ain’t going through the monumental arse-ache of doing it.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my collapsing mental health and what’s caused it, as preparation for ringing the local blind society for counselling. I’ve settled on it being a combination of my best friend/ex-girlfriend passing away a few years ago, therefore essentially leaving me alone in Sheffield, and my constantly deteriorating eyesight and general mental health problems. I’m just frightened of everything and everyone all the time, and I need some help with that. My doctor will just ram antidepressants down my throat and send me on pointless courses, which will have little to no useful affect.

I’ve been watching more cute YouTube videos to calm my soul. I don’t watch broadcast television anymore, due to my growing aversion to the English accent, so I try to stick to foreign channels on YT. You just know they’re not filled with hate and intolerance like English people.

I’ve just started watching Missing in Action 2: The Beginning, as research for a cultural review article over at The Whittling Post. Apparently it’s really the first movie, but they switched the two round when the studio saw how bad it was. They were worried it’d kill the public’s desire for a sequel. I’m not sure that that’s sound thinking, but whatever. I’ve decided to watch them in their intended order. I’m guessing it’s going to be Rambo II, only without the charisma of Sylvester Stallone.

Yikes.

I had a pretty poor night’s sleep last night, managing only about four hours in bite-sized chunks. I seem to be at the age now where I don’t need a solid eight, so I’m just getting on with things. I have managed two wanks today, which clears the cobwebs out of my troubled mind very nicely indeed.

I’ve had no contact with the outside world, apart from that anxiety-inducing text from the phone company.

Steady as she goes.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

As the sun goes down

Well, after dinner and a nap, I feel as though the bubble of depression inside me has finally popped, thus relieving some pressure. I’ve decided to do something about my recent woes, including contacting the local blind society to receive counselling. I believe they offer it to their disabled clients who are struggling with whatever it is that ails them. Their centre in town has something of a geriatric-vibe to it, but I think I’m ready for that now.

My world is so small these days, and I live in fear of everything and everyone around me. Perhaps the blind society can help empower me.

I was even beginning to freak out my friend “Lesbo Lisa” with my depressive texts, which isn’t a good sign. Being so vulnerable and not having any friends or family nearby is a struggle, especially when your neighbours appear to have formed a cabal of nosy intrusion. Am I being paranoid? I do not know. I can no longer tell what is real and what is imagined.

“Obnoxious Camp Guy” has been screaming at his television a lot this evening. He doesn’t seem to understand that it cannot hear him. But his poor neighbours can. Sigh. I only hope that nature brings autumn early this year. I really could do with the cold weather forcing people back inside to quietly mind their own business.

I had that Chinese entree by itself, as my low appetite means I probably couldn’t have coped with a rice accompaniment. And I love rice. Mountains of it. I may have some noodles with egg on top later. I’ve got a supermarket order coming tomorrow morning, so I’m trying to think of things to add to that.

Just whatever doesn’t generate too much heat, basically.

I’ve had a spike in views over at The Whittling Post. Not sure what that’s all about, but it seems to be easing off now. It’s been views of random posts from all over the world. I must say, it’s pretty grim when they only view one chapter of a serialised story, but that’s nothing new. I think someone did go through one of them in full once, but they never said anything. I really must have impressed them, huh?

I believe my comments are switched on, albeit moderated.

The humidity this evening means I’m struggling to breath again, which is not a nice experience. It’s like I’m drowning on dry land, but hey-ho. I’ve just had some more coffee to stop me passing out from heat stroke, which is rather worrying.

Right, I best waddle back over to my armchair and watch more MST3K. Joel and his beloved bots will keep me company, for sure.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Darkness in the brightest of times

Zero motivation. Zero caring. Zero anything.

Well, apart from party boxes of booze, which get me through the day.

Having morbid thoughts, which I can never go through with. I’m very squeamish, therefore self-harm attempts always fail. If only society would help those willing die peacefully, painlessly, and with a modicum of dignity.

What cruel people I am surrounded by.

There is so much noise outside, which only serves to increase my sense of loneliness. Everybody else seems to find it so easy, yet I fail every time. It’s not worth the tragic end that ultimately comes. I am to friendship what a bull is to a China shop.

I have a new neighbour, although I have not met him yet. The last guy moved out because of the barking dog below him that the council can no longer do anything about. I just hope this new tenant isn’t noisy, although it’ll be just my luck that he is.

He certainly doesn’t know how to close doors quietly.

The temperature has risen today, so that’s sapping my joy even further.

I only find pleasure nowadays in the privacy of my own head, in the form of my detailed erotic fantasies. Some of them are so detailed that I never actually get to the erotic part. The buildings and characters are so vivid that I often drift off to sleep before the centrepiece love making.

Oh well, at least they keep me busy.

Dinner today will be Chinese takeaway leftovers that’ve been in the freezer for a few weeks. I’ve actually had Chinese takeaways delivered since, forgetting about what I have stored. Don’t worry, I get by on my looks. I had egg and chips before I passed out last night, which was nice.

Currently watching old episodes of MST3K. The Joel years. They warm my heart.

Anyway, I best go read Final Exit and see what advice it can provide. I just want to be at peace.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

The desert of inactivity

Yet more heatwave misery to report. Fun, huh? It’s the opposite of the covid lockdown, which spoiled the fun of sociable people who enjoy going out a lot. Heatwaves stifle the fun of shy, awkward, lonely nerds with sedentary hobbies. I mean, the devices we use to while away the time with literally overheat and have to be shut down, spoiling our fun! There are high winds this morning, but they are treacherously misleading, as I just had to shut my console down after two races in GTA Online.

Oh the deepest of sighs!

The supermarket party boxes of white wine keep flowing, which helps drown out the sound of happy people outside having fun and enjoying what is making me so miserable. To give them some credit, the kids around here are actually pretty well behaved. It’s the adults who are troublesome and in need of a jolly good spanking. I’m tempted to buy one of those sonic antisocial behaviour deterrent things, only one tuned to the frequency of people in their 30s and 40s.

Why hot weather makes assholes even louder, I will never know.

I had a Chinese takeaway last night, as cooking is just not desirable in this weather. Yet another hobby ruined by the temperature! I enjoy cooking, especially boiling big pans of rice, but it’s no fun when you’re in danger of passing out in the middle of the kitchen mid-stir.

I’ve decided to hyphenate less and less, as I was going a bit overboard with it. I just started wanting all the-words-to-be-intimately-connected!

But, yes, I’ll cool off.

I’ve been down a lot of YouTube rabbitholes lately. They’re recommending a lot of cute videos that are putting a smile on my face. So few things do nowadays. Some videos are desperate and manipulative attempts to earn monetisation, but I dunno. Sometimes you just gotta take the honest with the exploitative. As I believe Werner Herzog once said: “The poet must never avert his eyes!”. Or something like that.

I guess I shouldn’t use quotation marks when I’m paraphrasing, but I can’t be arsed to go back two lines and delete them. See?! This is what the weather’s doing to me!

I might go brew another cafetière of coffee, lest I pass out from heat exhaustion. No wonder many hot countries have a coffee-based economy.

Urgh, I can hear “Obnoxious Camp Guy” shouting already. I’m sure he’s just having a casual conversation inside his home, but, for some annoying reason, I can hear and understand every word of it. I think he also sits outside his maisonette and plays with the local kids, which could be a concern. I’m not sure. Flamboyant, effeminate males can be potentially dangerous too, folks. Don’t let your guard down too much. There was a guy who lived over the way who used to use his dog as a prop to talk to the local kids, but I think somebody had a word with him, as I no longer hear him on his networking walks. As much as I disliked him, I don’t think he was really up to anything salacious, I just think he was an arrogant  idiot who didn’t know not to do stuff like that.

At least not in this day and age. And in the UK.

I got a strange text from my energy company yesterday. Apparently they are concerned (?!) that I haven’t topped-up my meter lately, so they are going to turn my power off and on for… a reason. Is it to punish me?! That doesn’t sound legal. I also got a text from the national power grid around the same time warning me of power outages. Fuck knows. I don’t know why energy companies feel the nedd to be so intrusive and threatening, but I’m guessing it has to do with profits, profits, and more profits.

We are no longer the customer. We are the product.

I have no grand plans for today, other than I wish to sober up. This may not last very long. If the neighbours start being noisy again, then I’ll probably spend most of my time with that white noise playlist booming in my ears as I attempt to masturbate myself to sleep.

We shall see.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!