'Slack attack'

It's been an unusual sort of day really.

I'm currently reading Junk Mail by Will Self, I have begun reading the chapter 'Slack Attack' which is on the topic of idleness... unsurprisingly.

Never have I identified with a piece of writing so much.

I finally finished Factotum last night. It took me eight hours to motivate myself to read twenty pages. It was hilarious though, especially the part where Hank Chinaski drunkenly holds his boss captive in a room, whilst telling him how the hotel should be run.

Actually from that book, I also learned something I kind of already knew:

''That's when I learned that it wasn't enough to just do your job, you had to have an interest in it, even a passion for it.''

It kind of puts my 'Whores of Amsterdam' post in perspective.

I might just stay up all night and completely catch up on my reading.

Or I may not, cause I be lazy.

I kind of want to post/rant about how Rebecca has totally fucked me off, and out of sheer bitterness and spite posted the following on myspace in the hope that preferably her boyfriend will see it:

''Damn, dude, I was on one on monday night.

I meet with my 'secret lover' at 5:30 in town, we started drinking at The Lambton Worm. Ended up going along to that new bar Porterfields. Pretty decent. At some point, I think it's a good idea to drink treble whiskeys. I'm up on some wild shit by this time.

We go to the Buskers night. I'm so keyed up on whiskey that I decide it makes total sense for me to start hitting on a nerd girl. I mean, hey, it's only my 18 year old 'secret lover' I'm with!

So I walk over to nerd girl. "Yo," I say to myself, "I shall pull this girl..." So I start talking to her. I'm uttering completely unthought out sentences, me attempting to convince the girl that I'm a bigger douchebag than her? (!) ostensibly because "I have stupid hair," waving my arms about in the air, gesturing in an attempt to further explain that "I'm a level 12 douchebag and a sexual predator." God only knows why, but she's laughing.

My secret lovers boyfriend arrives, with company. I'm like ''Oh hi, I'm Michael, I know your girlfriend'' where in the back of my mind I'm thinking yea, I made her squirt 3 times last thursday.

For some reason, he doesn't suspect a thing, and I drink more, and everythings cool. But then I suppose I said something offensive (!). They leave.

Secret lover girl is walking away, I storm forth and claw her back. Her boyfriend walks off angrily.

Some kind of argument ensues.

I suddenly realise, I should just walk off and I leave. On the way back home I am having a full conversation with myself. All complete nonsense.

I'm asking myself if I would rather be an inuit or an indian, or something. I get home go into my garage and proceed to vaporize a lot of weed. Nice, Michael. Around the sixth rip, I fall back confused. I puke at 5:30, copiously. On a toy shark.

I lost the girl. Still have the toy shark.

Overall, I didn't enjoy monday night, but I think evenings such as these can be essential for character building. Or something like that. -shrugs- whatever.

I'm going to eat some ice-cream and go back to sleep.

In a bit.

-M''

A severely cutting, slightly over dramatised account of monday night.

I'm vindicating myself here on the basis that anyone who will invite their boyfriend and fuck buddy to one place in away kind of deserves what they get.

I wish I could completely believe what I've just wrote.

No more night-time planz.

-Michael