Love and vomit

While I’m sure it won’t last, this morning feels like the first truly autumnal day of the year. Proper grim northern weather. And so, of course, I’m very happy. But, like the weather, I’m sure the happiness won’t last either.

So, as you may have gathered from my last post, I did finally manage to venture out into town for a few beers last week. I don’t know why I felt inclined to show you that video as its own post (instead of waiting to include it in a text update such as this) but, hey, booze and all that, right? I guess I was just so excited about being out and about, even though it did end up being quite an expensive afternoon.

My first port of call was to pick up some prescription medication from my local pharmacy, after which I took a bus into the centre of town to draw out some cash (having forgotten to do so while picking up the meds). I then taxied back out to the first pub, which is inconveniently located on the outskirts of the city centre (before you get to he suburbs) on an industrial estate. Sheffield’s a big place, although deceptively not so “as the crow flies”. What might look like a mile-long journey in your head actually turns out to be three miles in reality. Everything in Sheffield is uphill. And then downhill. Then uphill again. So you just get used to taking more public transport than you usual would. When I first moved here, I was shocked when I saw people taking bus trips just to the next stop. But now I finally get it, and even do it myself. Anyway, the first pub was fun to visit, as I’d not been there in years (not including the lockdown). I used to do solo pub crawls around the centre of town, often starting or ending at that pub. Then I got lazy. While I never seemed to like the beer there, the building has this wonderful aura about it that I just can’t resist. When I’m there, I imagine I’m Bilbo Baggins retiring at Rivendell, with the grey clouds of reality being mere misty curtains hiding the valley walls of fantasy. Sigh. Wouldn’t that be great? For some reason, I just feel safe and at home there. I even took my top off in there once, which I haven’t done in public since… well… ever.

I kept all my clothes on this time though.

While the staff didn’t demand any social distancing (which can no longer be enforced legally anyway), they were sticking to card payments-only. I guess I should prefer that, as it saves having to use a cash machine (which I’m finding harder and harder to use nowadays), but it still feels weird doing so to buy just one beer. Oh well. After three pints of a stout, I suddenly felt nauseated. I initially shrugged this off, thinking maybe missing a week of medication was at play, but then I got that classic moist feeling in my mouth, which feels like your body lubricating your pipes for when the vomit comes. Lucky, I made it to the toilet in time, and ended up honking up into the bowl for a few minutes. I was fine with this (I mean, who doesn’t like a good purge?), but it put me in a weird headspace after, thus sapping my enthusiasm to continue my drinking session. I managed to down another couple of pints in there though (that video was taken BEFORE the deluge of puke), before making my planned journey to the next pub.

Since my regular pub has been the victim of an arson attack (it wasn’t burned to the ground, as I may have implied), I thought I’d go to another one of the three pubs around town owned by the same company. An extra incentive was that they’ve just opened a bottle shop/liquor store just next door, so I could pick up a few beers before heading home. The store is also run by that woman I went on a walk with just after the lockdown started last year and, while I seem to have been incorrect about this, initially hoped might be interested in me, romantically-speaking. Still, she’s very nice, and I thought a friendly “Hello!” and being supportive of a local company’s finances would count as my good dead for the, erm, year. If you see local pubs as charities, you feel a lot less angst-ridden about your alcoholism. I think I’d only been to the second pub maybe twice before, mainly due to its tricky location. Unfortunately, real ale pubs do tend to be in random places, necessitating either long walks or public transport fares. I took a taxi between pubs because I’d noticed a lot of regeneration roadworks around the area on the way to the first, but I sort of regret this now. I reckon I could have done the journey on foot. Maybe. Well, I turned up at the second pub’s door just after they’d opened at 3 pm, finding an adorably camp young man working behind the bar. I tried asking him about the fire at the other pub, but he seemed understandably tight-lipped about it all (and not just because he was wearing a face covering). I also tried my best to flirt, which failed. As usual. This pub were accepting cash, so my initial venture into town wasn’t a total waste of time. Not a great deal of note happened in there, so I’ll skip to the next bit…

Ta-da! Here we are, at the next bit. Well, the chat in the bottle shop with that woman was pretty uneventful too, as I recall (I was quite twatted by this stage). I got her to pick out a selection of twelve pale ales for me, which came to a depressing, but not shocking, £40-or-so. When you buy real ale cans from local breweries, you basically pay the in-pub draft price. Alas! But, again, I tried to see it as supporting a local charity.

I’ve just poured myself another coffee, as I’m struggling a bit this morning. Although I did wake up at 6 am after a full night’s sleep, which was a treat. Let’s see if we can keep it to that routine.

Right, back to my story. Oh… wait… I think that was all. After the woman was sweet enough to guide my staggering self out to the third taxi of the day, I sat in silence (another treat!) with the driver until I got home. Things get a bit hazy after that.

At least I know for sure that town is still there, and it was nice to get away from this shithole for a few hours. Fingers crossed I don’t have a vomiting fit the next time I pop out for a few drinks. My regular pub says they’ll reopen sooner than they initially expected, so I’ll keep an eye on their Facebook updates. At least it’ll save on taxi fares once they do.

Since finally sobering up on Sunday, I’ve just generally been pottering about doing my local hobby stuff. For no real reason at all, I’ve decided to watch the films I consider to be set in the “Alien universe”. Even though they’re not directly related by story/characters/filmmaker/copyright. These films are:

Dark Star (1974)
Alien (1979)
Outland (1981)
Blade Runner (1982)
Aliens (1986)
Hardware (1990)

So it’s been a hard science fiction few days, basically. Blade Runner is a bit of a stretch, but I imagine the Off-world colonies mentioned within the film include Hadley’s Hope and whatever the mining colony is called in Outland. I should really include the first season of Red Dwarf too. Hmmm. Anyway, after rewatching Blade Runner, I can confirm that it is still my favourite movie. There’s always something new to pick up on! If you’ve never seen it before, don’t watch it if you’re in the mood for an action packed sci-fi film noir, as it’s really a slow, atmospheric, philosophical drama about the fear of ageing, obsolescence, and death. The killer robot thing was really a secondary concern for Ridley Scott. Oh and I recommend the 1992 Director’s Cut. That’s MY version out of the four or five available. I might try watching the belated sequel again although, to me, it stood in contrast to everything that made the original great. Plus the re-conning bullshit was unforgivable.

Re-watching Aliens today, I've come to the conclusion that the marines perhaps should have done a few things differently. Mainly, they shouldn't have made their first act to all charge into the colony building to investigate. They should have taken satellite/aerial photos/videos first, then spent, like, a week on the Sulaco analyzing the footage. You know, searching for any signs of life they could from a safe distance. Then, if they'd found nothing, maybe they could have gone down and driven around the buildings with their motion trackers on, after which they still go back to the Sulaco to make further plans. Then they could have flown further afield to check out the broader terrain, you know, just in case the colonists had evacuated to an outpost of some kind. After this, they could have then used loudspeakers to hail anybody within earshot around the colony buildings. For hours, maybe even days, they could have called out to people, telling them to come out and meet the marines. By then, they probably would have disturbed and discovered the aliens and called Earth for backup. Or just "nuke the site from orbit". After all, it's the only way to be sure. I suppose there wouldn't have been much of a film if all that'd happened. Plus Carter Burke was probably influencing things negatively, prequel Sith-style.

Well, apart from movie watching, I’ve also been trying to keep up with my guitar practice. I’m still playing around with high gain metal tones, but I’m back to listening to alternative rock for pleasure now. I’ve not heard from my guitar guru since before my last two posts, but at least we’re back in touch now. I think I had a dream about him last night actually. A rude one. Which I’m fine with. One can’t have enough wet dreams, right?!

Speaking of which, I ordered some sex toys from an online shop last week, which all arrived Saturday morning. It’s masturbation stuff, of course, as partners are non-existent these days. It’s been my first ever try of a “masturbator”, which are basically just tubes of ribbed rubber inside a plastic pot that you wank with and into. It works though, as I’ve been having multiple orgasms. I’m usually just content with the one. I also bought a dildo, which was lovely, and a big bottle of silicone lubricant. I don’t like the water-based stuff, as it usually dries out within seconds and starts to shred my asshole or dick apart. Nice, huh? Anyway, I might buy new masturbators regularly as, even though I’m trying to clean it thoroughly after use, I’m guessing they get pretty gross and bacterial after a few goes. I also might buy another, slightly bigger, dildo. Not to replace the one I just bought, but to “heat things up” once the smaller one has loosened my insides. I do like my ass destroyed, I must say.

Well, on that family-friendly note, I think I’ll call it a day. Nothing much else has happened this week, apart from an incident with one of the tenants downstairs which I was going to contact the police about. I wasn’t involved, but I am concerned about their welfare. I may not even bother, as I don’t think it’s something the police can do anything about. I’ve written a report about it, which I may submit online. We shall see.

Right, yes, that’s all for now, folks.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

"Don't adventures ever have an end?!"

 

Earth, wind, fire… and METAL!

So some cunt burned down my favourite pub. Sigh. Why do these things always happen to ME?! I just logged onto Facebook for a second to check if they were opening at lunchtimes yet and, after getting initially excited due to seeing a long speech of a post, was horrified to find that they’ve been the victim of an arson attack. Whether it was a random thing or targeted, I have no idea, but it’s horrid. It’ a little community centre in there, basically. They’ve made a lot of lonely alcoholics homeless. Well, the same company has two other pubs in town, so maybe I’ll try one of those out whilst they’re rebuilding.

I’ve been back to the pub three times so far, the last was, coincidentally, the afternoon before the fire. I’m assuming any violent grudges are formed during the evening sessions, which I avoid. Everyone seems really sweet during the day. They had been opening at lunchtime on a Friday, so one of my three return visits was then. I’m not gonna lie, it’s felt damn good. Although, if I’m completely honest with you, it’s also felt a bit of an anticlimax. It turns out that life sucks anyway, regardless of deadly global pandemics. Oh well. I’m trying to find out if the ex wants to meet up for a pint, so I’m not too intimidated by establishments I’m not all that familiar with. We shall see.

I’ve been out of my diabetes medication since Thursday, but I’m not feeling any major side-effects. Yet. I actually felt “better” before I started taking them a couple of years ago, even though I was dying. Life, huh?! Anyway, I’ll trying picking them up either tomorrow or, should it turn into a pub day, Thursday.

I had to partially rebuild my bed yesterday as, believe it or not, the one the council gave me is a cheap piece of crap. In lieu of me applying for a new one, my unskilled DIY hands had to do. It just required me groping around on my disgusting carpet for the nuts and bolts. Literally. The thing was hanging together by, erm, magic, I think. I was actually starting to get back pains, so hopefully those will go away now the thing is sturdier.

I’ve still had no word about that custom build guitar. It’s a week away from their twelve-week ETA, so fingers crossed! I should really double check that the money left my account back in May, as I chose to prepay. I’m very on the ball.

That old colleague/guitar guru is still sort-of in touch. We emailed regularly for about a week, but now things have gone quiet. Maybe the arrival of that guitar will rekindle the conversation. At least contact with him has been more frequent than my old gaming buddy, who seems have gotten the message and is now leaving me alone.

My brother texted me the other day. I’ve not read it all, but judging by the opening few words (in the notification preview) he and mother are planning to turn up in town very soon. For some reason, my brain is telling me that it won’t happen if I just don’t read the text. I should just get it over and done with. I wish they’d take the hint that, while I love them and am happy to chat to them over text/emails or phone, I’m not keen to meet in person. They’re a lot of hard work and quite judgemental. And I’ve not aged well.

I’m such a warm fella, ain’t I?

I’m going through a bit of a dry spell in terms of my usual interest in music at the moment but, based on similar such periods in the past, it just means I need to try new stuff out. For some reason, I decided to give heavy metal my every-few-years-or-so try. I’m not a fan of metal, mainly because I find it takes the joy out of rock. It’s like the other extreme to progressive rock, which also takes the joy out of the genre. Where prog is dull and meandering, metal has TOO MUCH of the good stuff. Like a sugar overload. I prefer the instrumental/melodic restraint of alternative rock. Usually, that is. But, for some strange reason, I’m into metal right now. Like a pregnant woman with cravings for unusual foods (does that actually happen, or is it a myth created by sitcom writers?). I’m currently sticking mainly to “power metal”, which is more melodic than the usual stuff, plus it delves into speculative fiction themes, such as high fantasy. I can’t take any of it seriously, but the campiness and chugga-chugga riffs seem to be doing it for me. I’ve even started experimenting with high gain “metal” tones in my music nook. Crazy days.

If you have any heavy metal recommendations, then do drop me a line.

I’ve decided to try out some single player video games this week, since I’m short on gaming buddies. I’ve started the indie RPG Disco Elysium, which had its score composed by the band British Sea Power. Oh wait, sorry, they’ve recently changed their name to “Sea Power” due to Brexit. That’s not even a joke. It feels like a passive aggressive tantrum about four years too late. Anyway, I’ll be calling them British Sea Power until they finally pull their heads out of their arses. FFS. But, yeah, Disco Elysium is interesting so far. It's kind-of two dimensional, in terms of its graphics, and contrast between objects/areas is low, so I'm struggling a bit, visually speaking. It does look like somebody's hand-drawn and painted every inch of the map though, which is lovely. My eyes just bail on it. I guess I'm too used to the AAA lushness of games like Fallout and Skyrim. The change from my usual titles is enjoyable though.

I’ve nearly finished my watch of the American Dad boxset. It’s still solid, and I’d really recommend it. The only thing I don’t like is how they’ve changed Roger over time. He initially worked as this camp, eccentric, alcoholic “guy” who lives in the Smith’s attic and SOMETIMES put on disguises. It was a treat! Now he’s the psychotic villain of the show and is always wearing a “wacky outfit”, regardless of whether he needs to or not due to his extra terrestrial status. Like metal music, it’s too much of the good stuff. They should have kept his character simple. Now I feel unsettled and frightened whenever he appears on screen. I even yelled “No, don’t let him anywhere near her!” at the screen when Hayley was unconscious for some reason and he slowly creeped into view. That’s not a positive reaction to a once-loveable character.

Sort it out, Seth.

Hmmm, what else? Oh yes, as well as rebuilding my bed, I started tidying up around it a few days beforehand. After bringing the last of my possessions over from the ex’s a few years ago, I just let stuff pile up in there. I’ve been able to get to and from my bed, but that’s about it. I can now just about get to the other side of the room. I need a few bookcases, is all, then junk won’t be just sat in boxes still.

Well, I think that’s about all for now, folks. I’ve got a tin of chilli on the hob, which I’m going to add cous-cous too once it’s heated. Fancy!

I’ll try to post more frequently.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

"Well, I'm back."

Dead Kettle Blues

So that was a little treat this morning - I staggered into the kitchen after just waking up and, much to my horror, my kettle didn’t come on. I tried mixing and matching plug sockets etc. but, alas, it seem to have died. I’ve ordered some fuses, just in case that that’s all it needs. It was quite expensive, I do recall. Plus, I have a small lamp (that takes the same fuses) in a cupboard that’s never worked (the lamp, not the cupboard), so maybe I can finally get that working too. Anyway, I ended up managing to wake myself up with some [branded caffeinated sugar free cola drink]s and a leftover mushroom foo yung from last night’s takeaway. I may need to jump straight in the shower tomorrow, as that usually guarantees a wake-up.

Oh, there was a follow up to that man from the council knocking on my door on Friday regarding a leak in the flat below. That cockney, alpha male gobshite over the way actually had the nerve to come a-knocking too. Apparently he’s friends with the people downstairs and, rather than them coming up and speaking to me themselves, sent their abrasive, threatening, douchebag mate. I wasn’t impressed. He asked if he could come in and have a look at what’s causing the leak, as if he was an expert in building repairs. I said “No” and “The council have been and looked at it, and they’re going to return to fix it”, to which he then believed there was going to be more to our conversation, so I just shut the door in his face. Damn, it felt good. I knew he’d eventually turn up on my door for some reason. Why can’t people just mind their own business?! I had water coming through my bathroom ceiling once, and the council just said “Put a bucket down”. I would advise them to do the same.

After that incident, I started to feel even less safe in my own home so, this afternoon, I finally cut sheets of the sticky, frosted plastic I bought, like, ten years ago (to do the this exact thing) and covered up the kitchen windows*. I can now, officially, prance around my kitchen naked while waiting for the toast to pop. It’s a privilege you don’t realise you’ll miss until it’s gone. I’m one of the least practical people in the world, so cutting three rectangular pieces of plastic was a nightmare. I prefer more abstract art, without straight lines. I feel threatened by rulers.

Moving on.

That chap did eventually turn up in person to deliver the guitar distortion pedal I bought off him. I did ask if he’d like to pop in for a cup of tea, as one does but, rather unsurprisingly, he had stuff to do. Oh well. It’s a very nice piece of kit, and a welcome addition to my bulging distortion pedal collection.

My old gaming buddy keeps sending me messages and friend requests, even though I’ve decided to break contact. I feel very cruel, but I know nothing usually bothers him and, well, I wouldn’t have done such a thing if I wasn’t genuinely upset. If you’ve ever read the Discworld novels, then you’ll know what I mean when I say that I feel like his “dwarf bread”. I’m that food item in your satchel that you keep as the last of last resorts, because you know it’ll last forever and is pretty tough going. So you’ll wait until you’re snowed in on a mountainside, looking around the dimming campfire, wondering who’s going to eat who first. And, even then, you’ll still try a nibble of another friend’s arm before you think of resorting to me. Nah, I’m nobody’s dwarf bread.

I think my brief vegetarian phase has come to an end as, in the takeaway I mentioned above, there were a fair few meat products. Sadly, this Chinese doesn’t do any vegetarian starter combos, which is usually what I order. There’s a chicken Thai green curry reheating in the oven as I type.

No word yet from my regular pub on whether they’re going back to their old opening times. I did post a semi-anonymous comment on their Facebook site asking. I don’t “officially” have an FB account anymore, just a blank one in case I need to access a small company’s website (like for this situation). Which actually happens quite a lot.

I’ve been listening to a lot of Jimi Hendrix this weekend. I’ve been working on a playlist of his posthumously released songs for ages, which is about forty tracks long. He seemed to have such a sad life, and was a very shy, humble, thoughtful man. It’s a shame that nefarious rock journalists/historians try to paint him as a super-outgoing rock god. He wasn’t. It was all just a flamboyant stage act. If you read about his childhood, I swear you’ll never stop crying. Especially the thing about the broom. Go have a look.

I have been drunk over the last few days, but I think the hangover’s finally gone. My head will be a bit rough anyway from missing a week’s worth of antidepressants, so anything that feels like a lingering hangover probably isn’t.

Probably.

Oh, my old work colleague and “guitar Yoda” got in touch on Friday. We haven’t spoken since I shut my FB account down a couple of years ago. I think the last time we spoke I posted here that I thought he had been drunk at the time, and that he had subsequently forgot ever getting in touch. I think that’s just happened again**. Well, he was keen enough to dig out my email address, which I don’t think he’s used since we worked together fifteen years ago. Still, he’s a lovely guy (although a fucking pain in the arse to work with) and, very likely, the one chance I’ll ever have of being in a band. Maybe I’ll be his bassist. I do have a bass guitar. We shall see. I might ping him an email reminding him that we’re back in touch now. Sigh.

Right, I think my curry’s about ready to come out of the oven, so I best go prance around naked in my kitchen. Gosh, it really does feel good to say that!

Anyway, do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

*the council won’t put up curtains/blinds in tenants’ kitchens as, apparently, it’s a fire hazard

**I’m sat editing this post and an email notification just popped up from him, so he didn’t forget. I’ll read it once I’m done here and update you next time