Whiny Blog. That's right, let's have a change from the usual upbeat shit...

I'm seriously going to write a whiny blog. If you like funny blogs, or interesting blogs, or blogs about different types of hair and nails... well, you're sucking on a big ol' bloggy cock that's ready to blow a hot load of creamy disappointment right down your throat.

This is a whiny blog.

I hate Plenty of Fish. I just keep looking for someone who's an exact replica of Matt or MMA guy. Everyone with a six pack is a retard. I think MMA guy may have been the only person with a six pack who is also marginally intelligent. I found an old phone that I used to use the other day and it had Matt's number and MMA guys... I deleted them straight away to stop temptation but I think I can get them back. Matt's gone to Australia, but I bet MMA guy is still here.... I wonder if he has a girlfriend now. I hated him, though.

I've met plenty of nice people on there, and honestly I don't know why I'm still on it. I don't have the time for it, unless they're amazing and so far no one is amazing enough to take a huge amount of time to put into it so they get upset and stop talking to me.

I'm putting together my business properly, and that's probably going to be alright but I'm so tired today. It's raining and cold and I have to move house this evening and I just want to throw myself upon my sword. That's how all the cool kids are doing it these days... swords... and throwing...

I'm so tired. I think I said that but I want to make sure you understand. I'm so very tired. Not tired from lack of sleep... just tired from trudging uphill for the last 6 months or so.

I'm going to start doing podcasts soon, because it's so much more fun than just typing. I only get an hour a day at most to myself and I usually fall asleep during it.

I need a hug.

Hey look... a big ol' pair of titties!

I need to employ a poly-phasic sleep cycle in which I sleep for 20 minutes every 4 hours. That way I can have more time to do things.

I can't believe I waste 8 hours a day drooling on my own face and farting whilst thinking about unnecessary things and strange situations. And I can't believe I waste another 8 hours a day sleeping...

I made myself laugh.

So, at the moment I'm trying to get my new business running properly which takes a lot of time, believe it or not. I don't know if you've ever had to think of 20 new cosmetic products, source British suppliers for packaging, design labels, source the ingredients and work out how much you need whilst making sure that everything you make will convince a room full of middle aged ladies to heartily part with their cash... but it takes time.

I worked three days this week too, at my other job. Plus I'm moving house today (Friday) because I need to get out of my old one, and then again next Friday when I have a van and have found somewhere else to move to... That'll be 11 moves in two years. Fuck it, I may as well just get a horse and live on the Moors.

I don't know why I keep kidding myself into thinking I'm not a wandering gypsy traveler. I move every couple of days, sell everything that's worth money and talk like a drunken Australian hobo. Plus I like dags. Do you like dags?

So.. cam is going well though. It's nice to be back although luckily I'm busy in my brain also or the occasional  cock-like, insistent thrusts of hurt, disappointment and confusion would drive me bonkers.

I... I need a holiday. I never thought I'd say that but I really do just need a couple weeks in 28c sun and some delicious drinks and doughnuts. Maybe a cake. A bit of carrot cake. And a sandwich. Cheese and pickle, or maybe Spanish cheese and quince paste.

Urgh, I love quince paste.

I lied about the titties.

A Bit Mad...

You know when you play tag with someone on a long motorway journey in your car...? Yeah. When they turn off I get upset, because I don't want them to go away.

If I had a penny for every time I've nearly gotten myself killed chasing another biker just because I want them to like me as much as I've decided I like them within two seconds of finding out that they exist... I could buy some penny sweets.

So.. Obviously, being a cam whore sucks because every now and then you get a sharp reminder that someone you like doesn't think you're as special as you thought they did... And you're just another model to them.

Some MFC guys matter to me... Some don't. I guess to some of them I matter... And to some of them I don't, actually.