I just got paid £37 for doing literally fucking nothing for a few hours this morning.
Now, I shall begin to eat my hogmanay supply of Twiglets. Final of powernap of beauty for the '07. Then out. Ending the year as I started it: disguting drunken projectile-vomitingfest with short interval for handshakes and kisses on the cheek at the stroke of midnight. Fireworks explode and some chode guzzles champagne from flutes of sparkliness.
Balls to the fucking wall for 08 yo.
Happy new year.
-Michael
Monday 31 December 2007
Sunday 30 December 2007
Best Pick-up system...
I'm in work in less than five hours. I can't sleep. Too lazy to read tonight. So I thought fuck it. I'm gonna get some food. I've just been perusing one of the seduction sites and came across an old post on what is the best method of pick-up technique. Here's my opinions from my own personal experiences on the major schools of thought within the seduction community.
1. RSD 2007: This from my perspective is the best system of pick-up. The interesting thing being that it isn't really a system per se. It basically comprises the best parts of DYD, Juggler method, Gunwitch method and minimal Mystery Method techniques.
The main emphasis is on being forward, dominant, assertive, honest, authentic, unreactive, sexual and comfortable in the present moment. The majority of there principles are very solid. I've gained a lot of useful information from RSD on not only pick-up where their leader Tylers says that self-improvement and pick-up should be mutually symbiotic.
On getting a girlfriend: live your life, enjoy womens company, assume absolutley nothing.
Or to put it more succinctly as Jeffy says: be cool and don't say anything stupid.
Living a more fulfilling life: offer value.
Like I said, I've learned a lot from RSD. This stuff does get you laid. Just beware of turning into a frat boy.
2. David DeAngelo DYD: Narrowly missing out top spot. David DeAngelos brilliant newsletters completely changed the course of my life and set me on a path to transformation from being a loser to pulling the hottest girl of my life. And I was still a fatty too!
When used correctly, DeAngelos 'methods' are lethally effective. You become irresistably attractive to women, you're a 'real man.' And that's the beauty of DYD. It's punchline is basically as long as you're not a fucking pussy and you're challenging. You will attract hot girls. And you do. I haven't glossed over DYD for a while. I think I might have a browse sometime in 2008. A lot of it is absolute bonafide gold. Figuratively speaking of course. The DeAngelo way of competant flirting says all the right things about you in a very short space of time.
Just beware you don't become either overly arrogant, or some overly entertaining clown. Or worse still some emalgamation of both. It happens.
3. Juggler: Juggler teaches a system of natural approach. He prides himself on being completely himself in interactions with people. He is a wonderful and at times brilliant conversationalist and is immensely talented. He is also someone I would actually want to be friends with. Which is a lot more than can be said for 99.9% of the so called seduction community.
With Juggler it's natural wit, putting yourself on the line fully, his technique for gaining instant rapport with people was probably for me, the best thing in the game. You simply talk as if you've known the person for years. You make statements as you do with your friends. He also places emphasis on leading. You don't ask questions. You constantly escalate and you do a lot of touching. And you tell the girl you think she's sexy. It's pretty much simple as that. It also works very very well. There isn't actually a dark side to Juggler method which I can think of.
4. Gunwitch Method: Similar to Juggler. This redneck renegade pick-up artist puts a lot of emphasis on the basic fundamentals. He also emphasises the importance of being very sexual and forward. As the old adage goes ''If you can get a woman to talk about sex, 9/10 times you'll end up sleeping with her.'' Mystery Method starlets Sinn and Captain Jack are fanatical about this kind of thing. And I can also vouch for it's effectiveness. You honestly stand more chance of getting laid, if you actually state your intent. There is no dark side to this as long as you're socially calibrated and aren't going upto women 'grab-ass' style at highly innapropriate times and being a total sex pest. That can be annoying. Generally, it's okay though.
Perhaps the most important message behind GWM is this, and I should have it tatooed on my head so I never forget. ''WOMEN LOVE SEX AS MUCH, IF NOT MORE THAN MEN.''
It's slipped my mind who uttered the following quote so I can give the appropriate credit ''Women really have nothing against you trying to fuck them. Although sometimes it may seem that way.'' Word.
5. Mystery Method: I know that Mystery Method principles are sound. Although the actual tactics and ''canned stories'' have never worked for me. I think Mystery's most important contribution has been to actually accurately assess and document all of the stages leading upto a sexual relationship . Knowing the ''mating dance'' can help you much more than all of the lines and routines can. If it wasn't for this. I wouldn't have even included Mystery Method.
From my own experience the negs, lines and story routines someone else has made up, just make you come across as a creepy, socially awkward weirdo.
Ultimately. Whilst these 'systems' offer a basis of thought. Nothing can overcompensate for truly developing yourself and becoming attractive through actually going out and talking to girls and learning what really works for me you, The same can be said for much every area of life.
Okay that's all I can be bothered to write this evening. I really have to get some shut eye.
-Michael
1. RSD 2007: This from my perspective is the best system of pick-up. The interesting thing being that it isn't really a system per se. It basically comprises the best parts of DYD, Juggler method, Gunwitch method and minimal Mystery Method techniques.
The main emphasis is on being forward, dominant, assertive, honest, authentic, unreactive, sexual and comfortable in the present moment. The majority of there principles are very solid. I've gained a lot of useful information from RSD on not only pick-up where their leader Tylers says that self-improvement and pick-up should be mutually symbiotic.
On getting a girlfriend: live your life, enjoy womens company, assume absolutley nothing.
Or to put it more succinctly as Jeffy says: be cool and don't say anything stupid.
Living a more fulfilling life: offer value.
Like I said, I've learned a lot from RSD. This stuff does get you laid. Just beware of turning into a frat boy.
2. David DeAngelo DYD: Narrowly missing out top spot. David DeAngelos brilliant newsletters completely changed the course of my life and set me on a path to transformation from being a loser to pulling the hottest girl of my life. And I was still a fatty too!
When used correctly, DeAngelos 'methods' are lethally effective. You become irresistably attractive to women, you're a 'real man.' And that's the beauty of DYD. It's punchline is basically as long as you're not a fucking pussy and you're challenging. You will attract hot girls. And you do. I haven't glossed over DYD for a while. I think I might have a browse sometime in 2008. A lot of it is absolute bonafide gold. Figuratively speaking of course. The DeAngelo way of competant flirting says all the right things about you in a very short space of time.
Just beware you don't become either overly arrogant, or some overly entertaining clown. Or worse still some emalgamation of both. It happens.
3. Juggler: Juggler teaches a system of natural approach. He prides himself on being completely himself in interactions with people. He is a wonderful and at times brilliant conversationalist and is immensely talented. He is also someone I would actually want to be friends with. Which is a lot more than can be said for 99.9% of the so called seduction community.
With Juggler it's natural wit, putting yourself on the line fully, his technique for gaining instant rapport with people was probably for me, the best thing in the game. You simply talk as if you've known the person for years. You make statements as you do with your friends. He also places emphasis on leading. You don't ask questions. You constantly escalate and you do a lot of touching. And you tell the girl you think she's sexy. It's pretty much simple as that. It also works very very well. There isn't actually a dark side to Juggler method which I can think of.
4. Gunwitch Method: Similar to Juggler. This redneck renegade pick-up artist puts a lot of emphasis on the basic fundamentals. He also emphasises the importance of being very sexual and forward. As the old adage goes ''If you can get a woman to talk about sex, 9/10 times you'll end up sleeping with her.'' Mystery Method starlets Sinn and Captain Jack are fanatical about this kind of thing. And I can also vouch for it's effectiveness. You honestly stand more chance of getting laid, if you actually state your intent. There is no dark side to this as long as you're socially calibrated and aren't going upto women 'grab-ass' style at highly innapropriate times and being a total sex pest. That can be annoying. Generally, it's okay though.
Perhaps the most important message behind GWM is this, and I should have it tatooed on my head so I never forget. ''WOMEN LOVE SEX AS MUCH, IF NOT MORE THAN MEN.''
It's slipped my mind who uttered the following quote so I can give the appropriate credit ''Women really have nothing against you trying to fuck them. Although sometimes it may seem that way.'' Word.
5. Mystery Method: I know that Mystery Method principles are sound. Although the actual tactics and ''canned stories'' have never worked for me. I think Mystery's most important contribution has been to actually accurately assess and document all of the stages leading upto a sexual relationship . Knowing the ''mating dance'' can help you much more than all of the lines and routines can. If it wasn't for this. I wouldn't have even included Mystery Method.
From my own experience the negs, lines and story routines someone else has made up, just make you come across as a creepy, socially awkward weirdo.
Ultimately. Whilst these 'systems' offer a basis of thought. Nothing can overcompensate for truly developing yourself and becoming attractive through actually going out and talking to girls and learning what really works for me you, The same can be said for much every area of life.
Okay that's all I can be bothered to write this evening. I really have to get some shut eye.
-Michael
Nil desperandum for cats
Woah dude. Tiring day. I finished a tiring ten hour shift in-which I developed a crush on a chubby photographer girl, which I haven't yet been able to relinquish. Went out afterwork. My vow of no drinking lasted around twenty minutes in the White Room. It was good to hang out with my friends Dudley and Johnson again. Although I was completely word weary all night. I can't recall any specific dialogue. Again.
We went to another couple of bars in which I proceeded to get fucking loaded. I got up late this morning. One and a half hours late for work. Great. I made up some absolute bullshit story about my house/apartment being broken into and run with it. I don't even have a fucking apartment. I actually felt quite bad about how much I had the hot girl hooked through my incessant pathological lying. Shades of being a sixteen year old again. I know from experience, that that shit isn't good for your soul. It ruins your core. Plus, it's way too much effort, and you look like a fool when you inevitably get caught out. It fucking terrifies me. That now I could so easily get a girl by lying. I don't want to. To me at this moment. It seems completely immoral and unethical. It'd be like shining a torch at a rabbit and launching a fucking proton torpedo at it. Sick. No more lies.
I'll just nonchalantly gloss over everything I've previously said in future.
I've just ordered a recumbent bike for my bedroom.
Times of happy real love shall soon be here. I'm going to 'read myself to sleep now'. I'm working six o clock in the morning. New years eve.
Ta ta
-Michael
Saturday 29 December 2007
Novel Redux
"Would you follow your dreams' desire? Would you follow your secret dreams and forbidden fire? Let's just peel out of this town. It's been nothing but dreams, it's been nothing but dreams....Until now"
I'm onto chapter two of my novel. Martin Allen is turning into a very misanthropic character. Very cold. He's ostensibly becoming Hank Chinaski on steroids.
The story itself requires a clever backdrop. I've set it in 2009. The world is a miserable vast abyss of cities which are all *exactly* the same. Huge shining shimmering skyscapes of drollness. ''The last great literary novel has been written; and has been replaced by the self-help book (and travel guides).''
Martin Allen wants to destroy those who kidnapped his girlfriend. Seek out one of his heroes Jim Steinman. Who he considers to be the last great creative genius. Allen's dillema is: is Steinman still alive? On top of this, Allen is going to have to contend with Commander Schwarz, his new 'employers' and the slight problem of an evil galactic Alien overlord who is simply known as X. He doesn't speak English.
So what I have so farCommando meets Henry Chinaski, in a magical Steinmanesque world.
So what that creates I imagine is a world of sexual lust, leather, motorbikes, extreme violence, clever wordplay set in glorious panavision throughout an over-the-top world of deserts, beaches, jungles and cities with huge sky scrapers that blast through the stratosphere and block out the sun, aswell as dirty terrifying streets with gangs of chrome loving bikers who will kill you as soon as look at you. Can Martin Allen save the world?
The lesson may very well be, can the world save itself?
Or has the magic of life been drained through the bleak miserable purple sky. As Allen later muses ''Maybe Alien overlords wanting to rennovate the world into one nasty deserted pulpit of skulls, bones and slave women; like an overcompensating chinese sweatshop owner aren't the biggest threat to humanity. Humanity is the biggest threat to itself.'' Quite. Allen is very succinct. Of course, with this kind of attitude. It's only a matter of time before Allen wonders why he's bothering to risk his life for a lost cause.
Allen notes, that this may be down to his religious upbringing. He wonders whether hope is truly the human condition.. Perhaps it's only hoping for something better that truly gives us the feeling of being human. And putting yourself on the line and offering something back, may be the most supreme of all human acts. The suffering in the face of adversity is perhaps only what keeps us grounded. ''Maybes if we weren't afraid and our palms didn't sweat. And you want to jump up the nearest tree and hide for all of eternity at the thought of telling the truth and being hurt in the process physically or emotionally. We'd be no better than X the Space Alien.'' It's at this point Allen notices that he said ''We'' averse to his customary ''I''.
He then muses that for all people are stupid. He always had a strong belief in himself. ''With so many people always trying to tear you down, why should you tear down yourself?'' Of course this makes little difference to the stoic and angry Allen. He is terrified by the thought of going into battle against a taskforce of Aliens and X the Alien overlord who he believes may be immortal. And having to truly put himself on the 'line'. The ultimate test of his character. He tries to gain the requisite confidence from his beloved ripped abs. For once, this doesn't work.
It's only when he finally cries himself to sleep. That his mentor comes to him in dream like Obi-wan-kenobi. Stream of conciousness diatribe on human consciousness and ego. Allens ultimate realisation is that for all he is an ego-maniac and has always been somewhat arrogant and deluded. He understands that the ego is merely a story you tell yourself. For all he ultimately tells himself that he is better than everyone in the world. Which he believes to be 'confidence'. His mentor makes him aware that he is deluded. He tells Allen that he is probably 'worse' than many of the human beings whom he disdains. ''At least they don't rely on millions of other people to fuck it all up, just so one individual can feel good about themself.'' he then leaves Martin Allen with the message ''True confidence is there at the very core of your self-esteem. Your soul. It's not in your head. Your ancestors survived and replicated for millions of years just so you can be here now. You can survive. You can even overcome. You have to lose the ego first. Unleash your soul.'' Allen wakes up before he can hear the last of his mentors words. He is even more confounded by thoughts of how he can 'unleash the soul' of which his mentor speaks.
He has to come to the realisation that ''it isn't until he can stop thinking and just act.'' that he is wasting 'his life' away.
That is all for the time being.
-Michael
Friday 28 December 2007
Drunken weltschmerz
I wrote this strange review last evening whilst I was still wallowing in my own hungover weltschmerz. This kind of shit will be a thing of the past now I am a detoxing, recovering former drunkard who be turning into a health freak:
I don't want to write about plans and theories anymore. Plans and theories are boring. I am very tired, but I can't sleep. Maybes I will write about condoms.
Several months ago I wandered into boots the chemists and purchased a big box of condoms. Durex pleasuremax condoms. At the time I thought this makes me very big and clever. I will use them when I finally fuck Lotte or Maria. That bitch. She will succumb to my charms yet. Once I have finally stopped trying to attract her with my David DeAngelo cocky and funny lines and have finally worked up the courage to try and kiss her. So I bought the condoms. These pleasuremax rubber boys would truly enhance my sex life providing pleasurable super happy fun sexy time for me and my sexual partner. With their magical little pleasure bubbles of love.
I've had sex 3 times. The whole box of condoms has somehow dissapeared or evaporated. They didn't live upto their expectations.
I am seriously fucked up right about now. Maybes at times we have to sink back into our heads and suffer. Hmmph. This kind of Xanga philosophy is warped and reeks of not getting 'any.'
Yes. Strange indeed. Those condoms didn't live upto their expectations though.
I'm off to read The Rum diary and live vicariously through the literary drunkards. Tee hee
-Michael
I don't want to write about plans and theories anymore. Plans and theories are boring. I am very tired, but I can't sleep. Maybes I will write about condoms.
Several months ago I wandered into boots the chemists and purchased a big box of condoms. Durex pleasuremax condoms. At the time I thought this makes me very big and clever. I will use them when I finally fuck Lotte or Maria. That bitch. She will succumb to my charms yet. Once I have finally stopped trying to attract her with my David DeAngelo cocky and funny lines and have finally worked up the courage to try and kiss her. So I bought the condoms. These pleasuremax rubber boys would truly enhance my sex life providing pleasurable super happy fun sexy time for me and my sexual partner. With their magical little pleasure bubbles of love.
I've had sex 3 times. The whole box of condoms has somehow dissapeared or evaporated. They didn't live upto their expectations.
I am seriously fucked up right about now. Maybes at times we have to sink back into our heads and suffer. Hmmph. This kind of Xanga philosophy is warped and reeks of not getting 'any.'
Yes. Strange indeed. Those condoms didn't live upto their expectations though.
I'm off to read The Rum diary and live vicariously through the literary drunkards. Tee hee
-Michael
New Years Revolutions....
This is possibly the most important post I've ever written.
So it’s been at times a turbulent and tumultuous year. At times it’s been very droll. Wasted. For all it has lacked in balls to wall excitement, and incident. It has overcompensated for in subtle life changing moments. 2007 was the year my paradigm shifted and everything for me really started to click in place. I didn’t have a plan per se going into 2007. Maybes that’s the best way. Nonetheless. It’s not always particularly wise to live your life in such a way. So for 2008 I have constructed a few missions. Resolutions is pastiche. To keep me on track to a good life. This time last year I was a self-loathing misanthropic idiot. Now I am a lean, self loving person who is more aware than ever before. Total transformation. So on that note. The following are my ‘missions’ for 2008 to keep on track to a good life. One of self-fulfilment and happiness rather than just contentment. Which many people mistake for happiness.
By writing these down. They will be easier to stick to. Here they are:
I’m going to go to the gym a minimum of six days a week when healthy and I’m going attain the highest level of fitness and strength of my life. Get a six pack and boost my biceps up to 16 inches.
Also as part of this I’m going to maintain a good healthy diet with minimal saturated fats and lipids. Drink plenty of water as averse to diluted juices. I’m also going to stick to health food supplements such as spirulina, digestive enzymes, probiotics, milk thistle et al. And rejoin www.myfooddiary.com.
As I’ve mentioned before on the blog. I’m a pretty kinaesthetic guy. So to me, this is more about feeling good about myself and being able to perform better in bed than actually looking good to others. As the saying goes. Your body is your temple. I want my body to be an outward projection of how I feel inside. My inner ‘glory’. The soul. Then I will keep it. To me. This will all be worth it.
I’m going to travel around the world . I want to go to Barcelona. I like the look of Barcelona. Visit another continent.
I’ve travelled very little in my life. I’ve seen most of this country; from going to football matches with my dad when I was younger.
My whole ‘international experience’ however consists of two short stays in Benidorm Spain between 13 and 15. Multiple day trips to Amsterdam. And going on a few day trips to Scotland. This is probably unfathomable to most people. In our modern age of globalisation. Where it’s less expensive to get a flight to another country than it is to get a bus a quarter of a mile in to town. Mind you, as I’m typing this. I’m thinking. I’d never even tried a courgette until this year. To say I’m inexperienced or naïve on a lot of things would be an enormous understatement. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do as far as world travelling and vegetables go.
Improve my writing skills.
I’m going to become more creative. Take more photographs. Draw more pictures. Like Kurt Cobain. Become more intelligent. Improve my vocabulary.
I’m going to learn about art.
Writing, language, literature and creativity are my ‘obsessions’ I feel I must nurture them and help them grow.
In all seriousness. This is my new hobby. I want to run with this, and see how it goes.
I’m going to read a minimum of one book a week. Keeping your mind sharp and healthy is obviously important. We live in a highly competitive world. We’re being attacked on all sides by all kinds of media sources. Audio. Visual. And with so many challenges in the modern day rat race. Keeping your mind healthy is your only hope. It is your most important asset in the world.
When I was younger I was academically stupid. I was also socially stupid. I couldn’t see the twigs for the Amazon rainforest. This gave me the problem of wasting almost 20 years of my life. Before I actually started getting a clue about life. From all kinds of sources and unusual ‘role models’ and experiences. I’m still a very naïve kid now. But one who has a lot of making up to do for all of those lost years. Driven indeed.
I’m nowhere near where I want to be. I want to make up for all of those years of staring at a television and being the fat child with no friends. I want to become the reverse of that. I think it’s a tad ironic. I’m becoming a healthy, intelligent, socially astute guy now. In my twenties where most of the people who would have bullied me at school and ‘lorded’ it over me are going on the opposite direction. Now they’re the ones who are fat and dull and eat fried foods in front of the idiot box. It’s a very absurd world.
Next on my ‘agenda’:
I’m going to wean myself off the so called ‘seduction community’ . As the majority of them are just skeevy losers who offer nothing of value to me anymore. With the exception of perhaps Real Social Dynamics and Juggler and a select few others. I feel I have learned all I need to know, and that is that essentially all you require is:
Non neediness.
Assertiveness
Dominance
To be unreactive to superficial standards
Confident and especially comfortable in your own skin.
To put your real personality on the line.
Be honest and open.
‘Kino.’ [Touch the girl]
Tell the girl you like her.
Be sexual.
Go to the gym, keep fit and healthy and well. [The gym makes the heroes]
Have a cool haircut.
Offer value.
Be interesting.
And overall be cooler than the girl.
Stop drinking. Being a drunken maniac is becoming too intertwined with my social identity. It is also expensive and makes you fat. It takes more guts to quit. Bukowski said that.
Read more poetry. The classics. Self improvement books such as Eckhart Tolle ‘The Power of Now’. Stuff like that. Tony Robbins. I’m also going to check out Joseph Faust and James Ray, and delve into Bandler again.
I’m going to indulge in everything that I enjoy. I don’t believe there’s any reason to cater to other peoples whims and fancies and likes. After all the way of the ‘sexworthy man’ is to just entertain himself.
Come out of my comfort zone, and put myself on the line more around people.
Write a novel.
Have the best year of my life.
Get out of debt. I’m growing increasingly frustrated at not having enough money. This is something I always seem to push to the back of my priorities. But it’s amongst the most fundamentally important things in life. It has to take a major priority and more focus next year.
Spend less time on social networking sites such as MySpace and Facebook. They’re a waste of time literally and figuratively.
Get my first real girlfriend at some point. It’s fucking time.
This blog. I love it. But it’s too droll. Not enough ever happens on here.
I want action. I want adventure. I want tears. I want excitement. Interesting shit. Beautiful photographs of distant and exotic shores. Photographs of anything. I want art. Weird and wonderful dialogue from strangers. Not just the latest bitching Adrian Moleesque recap of a hangover or how much ‘I love six packs. I want more poetry. Better use of media. Taking advantage of the incredible potential to make this blog something special.
This blog is getting a huge revamp next year. More interesting. Less capitulating and posting mundane content.
The blog stays. The content improves 200%. I’m know it isn’t exactly quantifiable. But anything less than MASSIVE improvement would disgust me. It’s my recently enforced personal standards.
Here’s to the new year. Here’s to action, adventure and excitement in far off distant lands and strange places. Full recaps and reviews of books and movies. Here’s to all of the girls and the monster pimping to come. Here’s to hedonism. Exotic beauty and all of that kind of crap. Funny moments. Sobriety. Vanity. Good diets. Fitness. Love. Self-discipline. The amazing things that are just out of sight. The bigger picture. 2008.
Next year on this very date. I am going to man the fuck up and see how I did. That’s 28 missions for the year. I like how mission sounds. Far better than ‘goals’ or ‘resolutions.’
Better gets to be being productive then.
-Michael
So it’s been at times a turbulent and tumultuous year. At times it’s been very droll. Wasted. For all it has lacked in balls to wall excitement, and incident. It has overcompensated for in subtle life changing moments. 2007 was the year my paradigm shifted and everything for me really started to click in place. I didn’t have a plan per se going into 2007. Maybes that’s the best way. Nonetheless. It’s not always particularly wise to live your life in such a way. So for 2008 I have constructed a few missions. Resolutions is pastiche. To keep me on track to a good life. This time last year I was a self-loathing misanthropic idiot. Now I am a lean, self loving person who is more aware than ever before. Total transformation. So on that note. The following are my ‘missions’ for 2008 to keep on track to a good life. One of self-fulfilment and happiness rather than just contentment. Which many people mistake for happiness.
By writing these down. They will be easier to stick to. Here they are:
I’m going to go to the gym a minimum of six days a week when healthy and I’m going attain the highest level of fitness and strength of my life. Get a six pack and boost my biceps up to 16 inches.
Also as part of this I’m going to maintain a good healthy diet with minimal saturated fats and lipids. Drink plenty of water as averse to diluted juices. I’m also going to stick to health food supplements such as spirulina, digestive enzymes, probiotics, milk thistle et al. And rejoin www.myfooddiary.com.
As I’ve mentioned before on the blog. I’m a pretty kinaesthetic guy. So to me, this is more about feeling good about myself and being able to perform better in bed than actually looking good to others. As the saying goes. Your body is your temple. I want my body to be an outward projection of how I feel inside. My inner ‘glory’. The soul. Then I will keep it. To me. This will all be worth it.
I’m going to travel around the world . I want to go to Barcelona. I like the look of Barcelona. Visit another continent.
I’ve travelled very little in my life. I’ve seen most of this country; from going to football matches with my dad when I was younger.
My whole ‘international experience’ however consists of two short stays in Benidorm Spain between 13 and 15. Multiple day trips to Amsterdam. And going on a few day trips to Scotland. This is probably unfathomable to most people. In our modern age of globalisation. Where it’s less expensive to get a flight to another country than it is to get a bus a quarter of a mile in to town. Mind you, as I’m typing this. I’m thinking. I’d never even tried a courgette until this year. To say I’m inexperienced or naïve on a lot of things would be an enormous understatement. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do as far as world travelling and vegetables go.
Improve my writing skills.
I’m going to become more creative. Take more photographs. Draw more pictures. Like Kurt Cobain. Become more intelligent. Improve my vocabulary.
I’m going to learn about art.
Writing, language, literature and creativity are my ‘obsessions’ I feel I must nurture them and help them grow.
In all seriousness. This is my new hobby. I want to run with this, and see how it goes.
I’m going to read a minimum of one book a week. Keeping your mind sharp and healthy is obviously important. We live in a highly competitive world. We’re being attacked on all sides by all kinds of media sources. Audio. Visual. And with so many challenges in the modern day rat race. Keeping your mind healthy is your only hope. It is your most important asset in the world.
When I was younger I was academically stupid. I was also socially stupid. I couldn’t see the twigs for the Amazon rainforest. This gave me the problem of wasting almost 20 years of my life. Before I actually started getting a clue about life. From all kinds of sources and unusual ‘role models’ and experiences. I’m still a very naïve kid now. But one who has a lot of making up to do for all of those lost years. Driven indeed.
I’m nowhere near where I want to be. I want to make up for all of those years of staring at a television and being the fat child with no friends. I want to become the reverse of that. I think it’s a tad ironic. I’m becoming a healthy, intelligent, socially astute guy now. In my twenties where most of the people who would have bullied me at school and ‘lorded’ it over me are going on the opposite direction. Now they’re the ones who are fat and dull and eat fried foods in front of the idiot box. It’s a very absurd world.
Next on my ‘agenda’:
I’m going to wean myself off the so called ‘seduction community’ . As the majority of them are just skeevy losers who offer nothing of value to me anymore. With the exception of perhaps Real Social Dynamics and Juggler and a select few others. I feel I have learned all I need to know, and that is that essentially all you require is:
Non neediness.
Assertiveness
Dominance
To be unreactive to superficial standards
Confident and especially comfortable in your own skin.
To put your real personality on the line.
Be honest and open.
‘Kino.’ [Touch the girl]
Tell the girl you like her.
Be sexual.
Go to the gym, keep fit and healthy and well. [The gym makes the heroes]
Have a cool haircut.
Offer value.
Be interesting.
And overall be cooler than the girl.
Stop drinking. Being a drunken maniac is becoming too intertwined with my social identity. It is also expensive and makes you fat. It takes more guts to quit. Bukowski said that.
Read more poetry. The classics. Self improvement books such as Eckhart Tolle ‘The Power of Now’. Stuff like that. Tony Robbins. I’m also going to check out Joseph Faust and James Ray, and delve into Bandler again.
I’m going to indulge in everything that I enjoy. I don’t believe there’s any reason to cater to other peoples whims and fancies and likes. After all the way of the ‘sexworthy man’ is to just entertain himself.
Come out of my comfort zone, and put myself on the line more around people.
Write a novel.
Have the best year of my life.
Get out of debt. I’m growing increasingly frustrated at not having enough money. This is something I always seem to push to the back of my priorities. But it’s amongst the most fundamentally important things in life. It has to take a major priority and more focus next year.
Spend less time on social networking sites such as MySpace and Facebook. They’re a waste of time literally and figuratively.
Get my first real girlfriend at some point. It’s fucking time.
This blog. I love it. But it’s too droll. Not enough ever happens on here.
I want action. I want adventure. I want tears. I want excitement. Interesting shit. Beautiful photographs of distant and exotic shores. Photographs of anything. I want art. Weird and wonderful dialogue from strangers. Not just the latest bitching Adrian Moleesque recap of a hangover or how much ‘I love six packs. I want more poetry. Better use of media. Taking advantage of the incredible potential to make this blog something special.
This blog is getting a huge revamp next year. More interesting. Less capitulating and posting mundane content.
The blog stays. The content improves 200%. I’m know it isn’t exactly quantifiable. But anything less than MASSIVE improvement would disgust me. It’s my recently enforced personal standards.
Here’s to the new year. Here’s to action, adventure and excitement in far off distant lands and strange places. Full recaps and reviews of books and movies. Here’s to all of the girls and the monster pimping to come. Here’s to hedonism. Exotic beauty and all of that kind of crap. Funny moments. Sobriety. Vanity. Good diets. Fitness. Love. Self-discipline. The amazing things that are just out of sight. The bigger picture. 2008.
Next year on this very date. I am going to man the fuck up and see how I did. That’s 28 missions for the year. I like how mission sounds. Far better than ‘goals’ or ‘resolutions.’
Better gets to be being productive then.
-Michael
Thursday 27 December 2007
Hollywood and Pulp by Bukowski
In my entire life. I've never read every single novel by an author to completion. But then, up until six months ago. I'd never even heard of Charles Bukowski. America's most influential writer. Every book by him I read was better than the last. It was a very strange phenomenon. This guy to me is the perfect writer. His style is simple. His sentences are punchy and ooze with honesty. Perhaps within us all, we all have that kind of fucked up worldview.
Hollywood was his story of writing a screenplay and all of the weird sorts who inhabit the major screen industry in America. And the bizarre characters and scenarios. In typical Bukowski style, it's very raw and honest and the a-list celebrities are thinly veiled by pseduonyms.
Pulp is Bukowski writing in the guise of 'Nick Belane'. A misanthropic private detective who can't solve a case. In fact Belane apparently hasn't even had a case in months. That's until he is hired by a series of weirdos who pay him to hunt down respectively Celine, a cheating housewife, a space alien and a red sparrow that may not even exist. This is by far the most hilarious of Bukowski's novels. Some of the dialogue is brilliant.
From profound remarks such as: ''That bitch. I'm going to nail her ass to the wall'' to dry caustic wit where he's calling a sex-line. ''Can you see something big sticking out?'' ''Oh yeah, my gut.''
The man is inspirational. Strange as it sounds. There's some kind of moral to the Bukowski legend.But whatever it is, I doubt it would do his writing or himself enough justice.
-Michael
Hollywood was his story of writing a screenplay and all of the weird sorts who inhabit the major screen industry in America. And the bizarre characters and scenarios. In typical Bukowski style, it's very raw and honest and the a-list celebrities are thinly veiled by pseduonyms.
Pulp is Bukowski writing in the guise of 'Nick Belane'. A misanthropic private detective who can't solve a case. In fact Belane apparently hasn't even had a case in months. That's until he is hired by a series of weirdos who pay him to hunt down respectively Celine, a cheating housewife, a space alien and a red sparrow that may not even exist. This is by far the most hilarious of Bukowski's novels. Some of the dialogue is brilliant.
From profound remarks such as: ''That bitch. I'm going to nail her ass to the wall'' to dry caustic wit where he's calling a sex-line. ''Can you see something big sticking out?'' ''Oh yeah, my gut.''
The man is inspirational. Strange as it sounds. There's some kind of moral to the Bukowski legend.But whatever it is, I doubt it would do his writing or himself enough justice.
-Michael
Lethargia....
Today has been the laziest I have been for a while. I have been completely idle. I haven't washed my hair for about a week. I am unshaved and I smell very bed. Strange. I was bombarded with deodrants and flashy aftershaves on christmas day yet I still smell very putrid. Actually I quite like being like this.
I am currently looking for good feng shui tips, but thus far have found little of interest except for how I seem to be somewhat of a feng shui nightmare.
Lying on top of your bed, have a look above you to see what is possibly raining down on you. Avoid sleeping under shelves heavily laden with books.... sleeping in an alcove with cupboards above your head full of old books is also not ideal. Overhead electrical devices such as lights and fans need to be positioned away from your bed.
Great. I am currently arguing with my bff about drinking.
Naked Fake Ass says:
u only stop drinking on nights i want to go out
Michael says:
you never go out on nights I can go out
Michael says:
you always try to arrange lash sessions on stupid nights
Michael says:
like ones where I work 12hour shifts and finish at midnight
Michael says:
or ones the night after the night I went out before and have a bad hangover
Michael says:
or ones where Ive been drinking for 3days straight and spent the afternoon with my head in a toilet
I despair. I really do. My other current thoughts consist of how I haven't used many big words lately. How there's no creative people around anymore. The world is an abyss of droll advertisements and no originality. And Lotte. Possibly getting some kind of girlfriend who is a good healthy cook. Gastronomy.
Also this blog seems to be becoming more of a dear diary. Oh, for christs sake.
-Michael
I am currently looking for good feng shui tips, but thus far have found little of interest except for how I seem to be somewhat of a feng shui nightmare.
Lying on top of your bed, have a look above you to see what is possibly raining down on you. Avoid sleeping under shelves heavily laden with books.... sleeping in an alcove with cupboards above your head full of old books is also not ideal. Overhead electrical devices such as lights and fans need to be positioned away from your bed.
Great. I am currently arguing with my bff about drinking.
Naked Fake Ass says:
u only stop drinking on nights i want to go out
Michael says:
you never go out on nights I can go out
Michael says:
you always try to arrange lash sessions on stupid nights
Michael says:
like ones where I work 12hour shifts and finish at midnight
Michael says:
or ones the night after the night I went out before and have a bad hangover
Michael says:
or ones where Ive been drinking for 3days straight and spent the afternoon with my head in a toilet
I despair. I really do. My other current thoughts consist of how I haven't used many big words lately. How there's no creative people around anymore. The world is an abyss of droll advertisements and no originality. And Lotte. Possibly getting some kind of girlfriend who is a good healthy cook. Gastronomy.
Also this blog seems to be becoming more of a dear diary. Oh, for christs sake.
-Michael
I am very very tired
I am very dissapointed in myself today. I wrote two things today that contained plagiarism. I know it's terrible. This is weakness.
I've noticed a few sloppy things I've been doing recently which require ammending:
-Acting slightly needy
-Not talking to enough girls
-A few instances of wussiness
-Not expressing my personality enough
-Being a chode clown entertainer guy
-Missing the gym through drinking
A few of these have been caused by my biggest sticking point. Drinking. I really have to stop it. It is fucking me up. Ruining my relationships with people. I couldn't even class myself as a social drinker anymore. Because it's not doing anything for my social life at all. It's basically causing me I feel to lose respect for myself. It also makes you smell bad and makes you fat.
Hence quote of the day today is: ''You don’t hate yourself because you’re fat. You’re fat because you hate yourself.''
Hating yourself is not good. Plenty of people will hate you. So why burden yourself with such self loathing. Maybes I should have added egotism to that list.
I'll post my new years goals tommorow.
I think I will watch The Bourne Supremacy and then finish another Bukowski novel.
-Michael
I've noticed a few sloppy things I've been doing recently which require ammending:
-Acting slightly needy
-Not talking to enough girls
-A few instances of wussiness
-Not expressing my personality enough
-Being a chode clown entertainer guy
-Missing the gym through drinking
A few of these have been caused by my biggest sticking point. Drinking. I really have to stop it. It is fucking me up. Ruining my relationships with people. I couldn't even class myself as a social drinker anymore. Because it's not doing anything for my social life at all. It's basically causing me I feel to lose respect for myself. It also makes you smell bad and makes you fat.
Hence quote of the day today is: ''You don’t hate yourself because you’re fat. You’re fat because you hate yourself.''
Hating yourself is not good. Plenty of people will hate you. So why burden yourself with such self loathing. Maybes I should have added egotism to that list.
I'll post my new years goals tommorow.
I think I will watch The Bourne Supremacy and then finish another Bukowski novel.
-Michael
Tuesday 25 December 2007
Christmas day part two
It was almost the perfect day. Everything about today was magical and beautiful. As it should be. I was happy. Enthusiastic. Excited. It was like being a small child again. My belief in love has actually been reinvigorated. This is what christmas day is all about right?
12:01 last night I was sitting there, opening my presents that my beloved parents got me. Casino Royale plays in the background on Sky Premiere. The most inspiring film I've seen in 2years.
I'm unwrapping my gifts. Help DELUXE dvd boxset. I put this on. And it's brilliant. (!) I'm gonna grow my hair out like A Beatle.
I peruse the Bukowski book 'Pulp'. I start reading 'Hollywood' this shit is GRANDIOSE. I read about 30 pages and go to sleep. Wake up, 7 or 8 hours later. Read a little bit more to rouse myself.
Go down stairs, see my youngest brother. He's playing with his wrestlers and it's fun times. Just like when I was small. My mother gives me another present she said she'd forgotten about. It's a fucking super awesome CAMERA. Woooooo.
So a little while after we're sitting watching '300' ultra-violent ripped abs fest. This is also hilarious and extremely entertaining. Pure glory. My favourite quote is when the black guy messenger asks King Leonidas to paraphrase: ''What gives this woman the right to speak up against men?'' to which Leonidas' wife replies ''because only Spartan women give birth to real men.'' Then Leonidas kicks the messenger down a pit. Fantastic. Sad ending. But still very fantastic.
After this, we go to my grandmothers, I'm hungry and it's time to eat yo. I gorge myself with turkey and pork and plenty of potatoes. Gets my new weights bench. We set that up in my garage. I now have a miniaturised gym in there. Heater and everything.
I start watching Borat around five o clockish on dvd. I haven't seen this movie before. But this shit is fucking hilarious. This guy [Sacha Baron Cohen] is immense. It's amazing how he keeps up his composure as he goes around mocking the fucking Americans. Sheer brilliance.
Watch Doctor Who, slight dissapointment, but not much. Massive improvement on last years.
I watch the end of Borat. I cannot emphasise how much I enjoyed this. Belly laughs. Wonderful.
I read somemore. I have well and truly gorged myself on chocolates by this point. I start watching 'The Bourne Identity' Matt Damon completes my magical christmas day. He is very charismatic and cool and composed. The action is fast paced and actually doesn't require a lot of thinking. I like the fight scenes and as he races around the streets of Europe in a Mini. The Italian Job meets Bullitt meets James Bond on cocaine. Or at least a healthy dose of amphetamine.
Brilliant christmas day. I rekindled my belief in love. Faith in God. And am very appreciative and thanksgiving for my life. And how good I have got it. My life is truly beautiful.
Thankyou my lovely fucking family. You truly are great for all of the arguing and bullshit. I love all of you beautiful people very very much.
I am filled with much emotion and sentimentality. I love times like these. They make everything so very worthwhile. I don't want to ramble anymore and ruin this piece, because I truly cannot express the way I felt today sufficiently. But the song 'More than words' comes to my mind.
Hopefully I will never forget in my life the serene blue sky as I woke up this morning, and looked out of the window. And the beauty of the sky with the tinge of red as I walked to my nana's.
Ethereal and serenity. So beautiful, wonderful, glorious, happy.
Happy festive times of love, happiness, peace, and very much joy. *smiles*
-Michael
12:01 last night I was sitting there, opening my presents that my beloved parents got me. Casino Royale plays in the background on Sky Premiere. The most inspiring film I've seen in 2years.
I'm unwrapping my gifts. Help DELUXE dvd boxset. I put this on. And it's brilliant. (!) I'm gonna grow my hair out like A Beatle.
I peruse the Bukowski book 'Pulp'. I start reading 'Hollywood' this shit is GRANDIOSE. I read about 30 pages and go to sleep. Wake up, 7 or 8 hours later. Read a little bit more to rouse myself.
Go down stairs, see my youngest brother. He's playing with his wrestlers and it's fun times. Just like when I was small. My mother gives me another present she said she'd forgotten about. It's a fucking super awesome CAMERA. Woooooo.
So a little while after we're sitting watching '300' ultra-violent ripped abs fest. This is also hilarious and extremely entertaining. Pure glory. My favourite quote is when the black guy messenger asks King Leonidas to paraphrase: ''What gives this woman the right to speak up against men?'' to which Leonidas' wife replies ''because only Spartan women give birth to real men.'' Then Leonidas kicks the messenger down a pit. Fantastic. Sad ending. But still very fantastic.
After this, we go to my grandmothers, I'm hungry and it's time to eat yo. I gorge myself with turkey and pork and plenty of potatoes. Gets my new weights bench. We set that up in my garage. I now have a miniaturised gym in there. Heater and everything.
I start watching Borat around five o clockish on dvd. I haven't seen this movie before. But this shit is fucking hilarious. This guy [Sacha Baron Cohen] is immense. It's amazing how he keeps up his composure as he goes around mocking the fucking Americans. Sheer brilliance.
Watch Doctor Who, slight dissapointment, but not much. Massive improvement on last years.
I watch the end of Borat. I cannot emphasise how much I enjoyed this. Belly laughs. Wonderful.
I read somemore. I have well and truly gorged myself on chocolates by this point. I start watching 'The Bourne Identity' Matt Damon completes my magical christmas day. He is very charismatic and cool and composed. The action is fast paced and actually doesn't require a lot of thinking. I like the fight scenes and as he races around the streets of Europe in a Mini. The Italian Job meets Bullitt meets James Bond on cocaine. Or at least a healthy dose of amphetamine.
Brilliant christmas day. I rekindled my belief in love. Faith in God. And am very appreciative and thanksgiving for my life. And how good I have got it. My life is truly beautiful.
Thankyou my lovely fucking family. You truly are great for all of the arguing and bullshit. I love all of you beautiful people very very much.
I am filled with much emotion and sentimentality. I love times like these. They make everything so very worthwhile. I don't want to ramble anymore and ruin this piece, because I truly cannot express the way I felt today sufficiently. But the song 'More than words' comes to my mind.
Hopefully I will never forget in my life the serene blue sky as I woke up this morning, and looked out of the window. And the beauty of the sky with the tinge of red as I walked to my nana's.
Ethereal and serenity. So beautiful, wonderful, glorious, happy.
Happy festive times of love, happiness, peace, and very much joy. *smiles*
-Michael
Christmas Day
I got DVDS, books, a weight set and the Help! DVD box set. I like that film. Always did. It was a favourite when I had a Beatles obsession when I was 8,9,10. I watch half of it and decide to go lye down in my bed on my new sheets. Attention has never been a strong point. No matter how much I love something; even if it's one of my favourite all-time movies by my favourite all-time band and it's funny and quirky and cute with great music.
I go to bed and read 3 chapters of Hollywood by Bukowski. This is turning out great. I love The Beatles, I love Bukowski. The 3 chapters make me smile. I am very happy indeed.
I fall asleep with Bukowski's Hollywood in my hand.
I wake up and read somemore. I can't be bothered to eat anything. I wrap myself up in my nice new duvet. The sky outside is very beautiful and serene for a christmas day. Fuck 'white christmas'' for all that would be nice. And I love traditional and nice things. This is ethereal. I smile happily.
I am going to rest more. Then when I can be bothered to eat, I will eat a big glorious christmas dinner. And then watch the ebullient Doctor Who christmas special. I have always loved that programme too.
Then maybes I shall watch the DVD about the Greeks with the ripped abs defending their honour as they are killed by the Persians to the death.
It is a truly beautiful day indeed. And I love it very much.
This is the most fervour and enthusiasm I have had in a long time. Christmas splendour deluxe. Lovely and glorious times of happiness and warm friendlieness and niceness.
As it should be. *smiles*
-Michael
I go to bed and read 3 chapters of Hollywood by Bukowski. This is turning out great. I love The Beatles, I love Bukowski. The 3 chapters make me smile. I am very happy indeed.
I fall asleep with Bukowski's Hollywood in my hand.
I wake up and read somemore. I can't be bothered to eat anything. I wrap myself up in my nice new duvet. The sky outside is very beautiful and serene for a christmas day. Fuck 'white christmas'' for all that would be nice. And I love traditional and nice things. This is ethereal. I smile happily.
I am going to rest more. Then when I can be bothered to eat, I will eat a big glorious christmas dinner. And then watch the ebullient Doctor Who christmas special. I have always loved that programme too.
Then maybes I shall watch the DVD about the Greeks with the ripped abs defending their honour as they are killed by the Persians to the death.
It is a truly beautiful day indeed. And I love it very much.
This is the most fervour and enthusiasm I have had in a long time. Christmas splendour deluxe. Lovely and glorious times of happiness and warm friendlieness and niceness.
As it should be. *smiles*
-Michael
Sunday 23 December 2007
Christmas Eve
It's 4:35am on Christmas eve. I woke up an hour again. I've spent the past two days working. Surprisingly the customers weren't very annoying. I'm in good spirits.
I went out on Thursday and Friday. Friday Andy and I drank a case of lager each. Stella Artois. And then decided to head into town.
The whole town portion is very blurry. I recall getting a taxi with some girl and then being distressed she wouldn’t give me her phone number.
I woke up late on Saturday morning.
I'm lying amidst multitudinous beer cans. Many empty bottles of Stella. I feel dehydrated. Fucking disgusting.
I hadn't drank for around 3 weeks. So the two days of incessant drinking hit me hard; like a rock. I have little recollection of what I was doing or saying. I recall some kind of conversation that involved the phrase ''the nuts are in the cheese section heeeee heeeee'' apart from that my whole retrospection is gone.
I vaguely remember deciding I'd drank too much and getting a taxi with some girl I'd never seen before in my life. Lambasting her with 'game'. My drunken rendering of flirting. Being very perturbed when she wouldn't give me her phone number or any money towards the fucking taxi. I'm getting slipshod in my old age.
Good times.
I'm currently perusing my phone and notice I've been sending more fucked up text messages. This has always been a problem for me. It's now emphasised by the fact I have a contract phone.
My sent items is voluminous with more text message saying I would like to fuck you very much indeed. I like you. In fact I sent a text about the nuts in the cheese section. At least I didn't do Air Supply again. I swear a lot in texts. I'm becoming quite vulgar too. As erudite as I want.
For the rest of the day at work, I felt disgusting. Ill.
Sunday at work was fun in a strange kind of way. I stood entrenched in my checkout as I always do. But this time I had a line of people almost fifty yards long. People were in good spirits. It was nice for a change. People weren’t being obnoxious arseholes to me. For all I was busy. I was kind of satisfied. There was a good vibe.
After sleeping for a few hours I’ve woke up. I’m lying on new sheets. They make me feel nice. My recently rearranged bedroom gives me a sense of well-being. Maybes this is what’s meant by Feng Shui.
I read another few pages of The Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy then started thinking about my own novel. I want it to provide a range of perpetual emotions. I want it to make me laugh. Make me cry. Make me excited. Inspired. All of those things I like to feel. That to me is a good story. One that can takes you on a full emotional journey as well as to an exciting stimulating world. Of course not everyone would agree with that. I just like to feel things. I’m probably more of a kinaesthetic person than most.
So therefore I’ve decided I want to embody all of the things that make me feel good, bad, sad, mad, angry, inspired, loved, hated et al.
I want to rest. But I feel strangely excited. Stimulated like I’m a small child again. I like this time of year. It makes me feel good.
-Michael
Wednesday 19 December 2007
Novel
I have tentatively started writing a novel.
It's the story of a secret agent/elite commando special operative for an organisation that specialises in stealth assassinations and takedowns of Splinter cells and terrorist organisations.
He is a highly trained warrior.
He was recruited after accidentally stumbling upon the organisation whilst looking for his kidnapped ex girlfriend.
His favourite weapons are the AK47/Kalashnikov, Bazookas, Machetes. Occasionally he likes to use his butterfly knives and his shotgun which he calls Lucy.
He drives an old red Ford Escort.
He has many sexual conquests [Over 80] but doesn't like commitment of any sort.
He is very vain and self absorbed and is at times very selfish and self centred; this is something he is trying to work on by reading Eckhart Tolle, works of Sri Nisargadatta and eastern philosophy.
He was raised as a strong catholic and used to be an altar boy until the age of 16, but now he prefers to study taoism.
His favourite book is Atlas Shrugged and he will occasionally quote Ayn Rand who he is a big fan of, and various other literary classics which he will read whilst at home or travelling between assignments.
He also likes sci-fi books such as The Hitchikers guide to the galaxy, Dune, and he wants to read Lord of the Flies and the Lord of the rings series at some point. He would like one day to write his own novel of this nature.
He is very interested in philosophy from times of old.
He has very few friends but many aquaintances.
His favourite drink is Vodka and soda for his abs. He disdains lager, but will drink it on occasion.
He works out every morning he isn't on assignment.
He always dreamed of being a professional wrestler and is an avid fan of Bret 'Hitman' Hart and various other wrestlers from the 1930's to the early 1990's which he considers ''wrestlings golden period.'' He frequently purchases wrestling videos off the internet. He is getting into Mexican wrestling and Japanese wrestling.
He is a smoker, but has cut down for six months so he can improve his fitness and one day fulfill his dream of becoming a professional wrestler.
His favourite food is chicken and quorn burgers.
He is an avid watcher of all of the Star Trek series, except Enterprise with that guy from Quantum Leap. He also likes Doctor Who and all kinds of classic sci-fi, he finds most of the new stuff ''tediously shit.''
He likes aeroplanes.
He likes water very much, but only swims on occasion.
He has a tenuous relationship with his parents who don't understand his lifestyle. He has a good relationship with his grandmother, and always has, she used to teach him catechism and encourage him to read from when he was a very young chabby.
He likes modern art and likes to go to the art museum to look at the work. He admits he doesn't know very much about art so therefore doesn't criticise the work. His only complaints on the topic are that he sometimes finds the curation at his favourite art gallery somewhat poor.
He likes to listen to 80's music, movie soundtracks and love songs which he finds relaxing as this is antipodean to the nature of his work.
He is the antithesis of Action Man.
That's all for now.
-Michael
Tuesday 18 December 2007
Redux
As I wrote the last post, a flurry of bad 'energy' came over me. It was a familiar feeling. Once upon a time I would have felt lost in an abyss of superfluous thinking.
Fortunately for me, there was such things this year that have helped me a great deal, namely RSD and Eckhart Tolle, and the way to resolve this 'mini-crisis' in my head is.. by accepting everything for how it is, realising there's no need for material possessions, being unreactive, and being completely natural.
Shit scratch the last post. 'I' am offering value by just being alive.
The ego has got to go.
-Deep breaths-
Michael
Fortunately for me, there was such things this year that have helped me a great deal, namely RSD and Eckhart Tolle, and the way to resolve this 'mini-crisis' in my head is.. by accepting everything for how it is, realising there's no need for material possessions, being unreactive, and being completely natural.
Shit scratch the last post. 'I' am offering value by just being alive.
The ego has got to go.
-Deep breaths-
Michael
Bourne to succeed
Would you believe this is one of the most powerful attraction secrets I've ever came across in my life? It's a magical ray of light. Like a laser exploding through the darkness of the night sky. Unfortunately:
The Matt Damon that can be talked about is not the real Matt Damon.
and he who knows does not speak.
he who speaks does not know.
My general disposition over the last couple of days has been one of laziness. Actually, I'm not sure if it's laziness or an incomprehensibly short attention span. I can't focus on anything for any longer than a few minutes.
Fortunately, this hasn't extended to my endeavours at the gym and I'm sticking to my routines. I'm loosely following the Simon Waterson workouts again. Aswell as glossing over The New Encyclopedia of Modern Bodybuilding by Arnold Schwarzenegger.
I have very little to say on anything. There isn't much interesting new stuff going down. This is my first day off work in a couple of weeks. Not a lot has happened there. I've just had to deal with trolls almost continually. My approach is to just go into a complete mental shut-down and not pay any attention to my surrounding environment.
Pretty much everything else I have to say at this point, I've already said. I found myself slipping back into old bad habits and immediately snapped out of them upon realisation.
My only reiterations are the importance of
-Being cooler than girl.
-Being assertive and dominating.
-Dominating the frame. Which should be easy if you're a naturally attractive guy.
-Honesty and authenticity; not needing to lie.
-Putting yourself on the line wholeheartedly. It doesn't matter what you say.
-Being a sociable guy rather than outright hitting on the girl. The reverse may work better for some, but being sociable as of late has garnered me better results.
-Non neediness. I noticed when I was starting to slip white lies in, that this could be percieved as needy. Hence why I reiterate putting your full natural personality on the line.
This is part of an interesting piece I read by Wayne Elise:
I believe in the Nostradamus theory of attraction.
Nostradamus was a 16th century seer. His present-day followers believe that he predicted big world events such as the Great Fire of London, Napoleon, World War II, and even the 911 terrorist attacks. Indeed when I read some of his words I can sort of see where those followers are coming from - just got to read into the imagery a bit. Maybe I can find next week’s lottery numbers.
However what I have also learned about Nostradamus was that he babbled non-stop and people wrote down everything he said. With countless manuscripts full of his lucid visions, its easy to find something that sounds like a modern-day event.
Nostradamus was a ladies man, I figure. I want you to be Nostradamus. I want you to understand that if you reveal enough about yourself a woman will find something to connect with.
Very true.
-Stating intent. Lately I've been more experimental with this and told a girl I was going to fist fuck her. Judging by the subsequent text messages from her. This should be converted into a lay. As long as I don't say anything stupid. Which I won't.
-Being non-presumptious.
- 'Game' is a projection of your soul. I'll write my own interpretation of Jung's theory of Anima sometime.
-Not giving a fuck. I don't need anyone but myself. And everything I do is for me.
And that's all of my thoughts on 'game' for the moment.
On another note: I want a good book.
I want some reading material that will do all of the following: take me into a wonderful land of intense action, adventure, and incorporate sex, and violence into the schema using a large assortment of big words whilst at the same time maintaining a simplistic plot which will not require much thought, but just enough to keep me stimulated until the end. Along with a protagonist whom I identify with. Not much springs to mind as of the moment. I shall see.
You just can't get the staff these dayz.
I would also like very much some good poetry.
Now I shall go and read about drugs and then draw pretty pictures.
-M
Monday 17 December 2007
At last....
I've finally joined the new local gym. It's pretty decent. I'm determined to stick to a regime this time around, and ascertain the ripped abs.
It's much more cramped than my other gym, but has everything required.
I did just under 40 minutes on the treadmill and about 30minutes of resistance work. With it being so close, I really have no excuse for not attending every day.
I'm going to post a picture at some point this week, and then see what improvement I have in a couple of months time.
I'm just thinking now, how thoroughly vain and self absorbed I really am.
-Michael
It's much more cramped than my other gym, but has everything required.
I did just under 40 minutes on the treadmill and about 30minutes of resistance work. With it being so close, I really have no excuse for not attending every day.
I'm going to post a picture at some point this week, and then see what improvement I have in a couple of months time.
I'm just thinking now, how thoroughly vain and self absorbed I really am.
-Michael
Saturday 15 December 2007
Being more creative...
I like creative people, and creativity is an attribute that I admire greatly. In fact it's a quality I would like to have for myself in great abundance.
I've always been a bit of a daydreamer and like to go inside of my head pretty often. One of my favourite books is 'The Hitchhikhers guide to the galaxy' by Douglas Adams. It's a fantastic and highly creative work. I love how language can be used to make clever and creative new worlds. Universes even.
That's all creativity really is I suppose. Taking language and making clever connections with it. Magical pictures in your head.
I think I will start reading more 'good' science fiction stuff, along with everything else under the sun.
I'm going to start carrying a notepad around aswell, in order to document interesting connections I make.
I'm also going to start doodling more and writing poetry again. I believe this could help very much.
-Michael
I've always been a bit of a daydreamer and like to go inside of my head pretty often. One of my favourite books is 'The Hitchhikhers guide to the galaxy' by Douglas Adams. It's a fantastic and highly creative work. I love how language can be used to make clever and creative new worlds. Universes even.
That's all creativity really is I suppose. Taking language and making clever connections with it. Magical pictures in your head.
I think I will start reading more 'good' science fiction stuff, along with everything else under the sun.
I'm going to start carrying a notepad around aswell, in order to document interesting connections I make.
I'm also going to start doodling more and writing poetry again. I believe this could help very much.
-Michael
Tao te ching..
It's a cold winters morning. I'm looking outside at the cold icey blue sky, and the tinges of ice adorning the green of the gardens. It looks quite beautiful actually.
I'm lying quarter wrapped in a think blue duvet, wearing a metal t-shirt and three quarter length adidas bottoms which I slept in last night on the green leather sofa downstairs after staying up a fair percentage of the night watching Batman, and reading the entire Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Both I found to be highly enjoyable. A good means of escapism.
I am far too lazy to try tying the pair of them together using a series of clever metaphors. They were entertaining respectfully for the magnificent portrayal of a lunatic by Jack Nicholson, a role he plays with a consummate natural flair. The other was clever for the use of magical language in order to glamourise a felonious mescaline fuelled drug rampage in Las Vegas.
I particuarly liked the parts about the lizards and pterodactyls in the bar, where he muses that seeing a hick on 200ft high screen in Las Vegas is worse than seeing 'your dead grandmother crawl up your leg with a knife between her teeth' and the majority of the action relating to Raoul's attourney was pretty hilarous stuff.
I've finished my weetabix, now I'm going to finish off the Tao te ching, and then have a shower. Taoism will hopefully make me feel more centred as when 12 o clock comes I will undoubtedly be aggravated as I'm beseiged with twats for the adjacent ten hours.
Boo.
-Michael
I'm lying quarter wrapped in a think blue duvet, wearing a metal t-shirt and three quarter length adidas bottoms which I slept in last night on the green leather sofa downstairs after staying up a fair percentage of the night watching Batman, and reading the entire Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Both I found to be highly enjoyable. A good means of escapism.
I am far too lazy to try tying the pair of them together using a series of clever metaphors. They were entertaining respectfully for the magnificent portrayal of a lunatic by Jack Nicholson, a role he plays with a consummate natural flair. The other was clever for the use of magical language in order to glamourise a felonious mescaline fuelled drug rampage in Las Vegas.
I particuarly liked the parts about the lizards and pterodactyls in the bar, where he muses that seeing a hick on 200ft high screen in Las Vegas is worse than seeing 'your dead grandmother crawl up your leg with a knife between her teeth' and the majority of the action relating to Raoul's attourney was pretty hilarous stuff.
I've finished my weetabix, now I'm going to finish off the Tao te ching, and then have a shower. Taoism will hopefully make me feel more centred as when 12 o clock comes I will undoubtedly be aggravated as I'm beseiged with twats for the adjacent ten hours.
Boo.
-Michael
Friday 14 December 2007
Pao yi tea...
It's been a droll week. I've spent every day of this week working. So I'll actually have some money going into the new year. Until the direct debits and credit card require payment.
I'm going to start drinking Pao yi tea, which is a chinese herbal 'medicine' in preparation for the biggest drinking binge I've ever done. I'm combining this with small meals, digestive enzymes and weights every day for the next week. The whole idea is to have my metabolism at its full peak so I don't gain too much weight or fat off all of this beer we will be drinking.
I've sollemnly taken a the vow to go to the gym six days a week in the new year in order to procure RIPPED ABS and 18 INCH BICEPS resplendent of a particuarly RIPPED Mens Health cover model.
I intend to start off by doing a five minute warm up on the exercise bike, followed by the Simon Waterson workout followed by four miles on the treadmill. Evenings will consist of 30 minutes of interval training, followed by 10 minutes on the bike or cross trainer and some boxing.
The four miles will increase to five miles within a fortnight of my new gym start date; the aim of this is naturally to increase my physical fitness to incredible levels.
These are my goals:
-I aim to be bench pressing almost twice my body weight in six months time.
-To be able to run a mile in five minutes.
-To have 3% body fat.
-To be able to go for hours in bed.
Sundays will be an active rest day, in which I'll probably use to do some circuit training in the house.
Ripped abs are a particular obsession to me, as I've been pretty much out of shape my entire life. One of the most difficult things for me in this last year was slipping back into old habits, as it can be quite easy to slip back into the patterns and conditions you've had for twenty years.
Another thing is the ego, can be a huge stumbling block. I don't know what it's called, I read about it somewhere, how when you get close to a particuarly lucid goal which is outside of your paradigm of reality it's easy to break and then stop. ''Our biggest fear isn't failing, it's achieving our own brilliant potential that terrifies us.''
This time there won't be any fuck ups. When you've stuttered through life as a fat, insecure, pretty much socially inept loser. You have to have the courage of your convictions and past experiences and know that total thorough transformation is the best way. You have to give yourself complete permission to succeed, no-one is going to give you that option.
As someone who was continually picked out and bullied at school because of being fat, just being slim doesn't seem a viable option. I'm aware that it's totally egotistical on my part. But nonetheless I want to play to win, not play not to lose. If you catch my drift.
It's like I have a constant drum in my head reminding me of the necessity to overcompensate for the years of being a fatty, with no friends, no girlfriend options. Shit, I went years at a time where I wouldn't talk to a member of the opposite sex with the obvious exclusions of my mother, grandmothers and teachers, and even then conversation was minimal.
So whilst it may to a high degree be sheer solipsism on my part. I believe it's important to have goals and ambitions in life, and when I look back upon some of my secondary school years such as being bullied by an almost retarded ugly deformed guy because I was an easy target, fat people are probably easier to pick on than retards and cripples (there's no moral guilt trip). I think I'm utterly compelled to carry this through until the very end. To transcend the adversity which exists in my head. Of course it could be the case that I'm just completely neurotic. But I like to view it as a healthy way of occupying ones time without working forty hour weeks.
Actually, the more I think about it, I might aswell get a good tan and grow my hair out and be a completely solipsistic egoist.
I think I've completely exhausted the topic of goals, hopes and dreams on this blog now, to a point of overkilling the overkill.
So there you have it: 2008 for me will be about going to absolute extremes.
Tuesday 11 December 2007
Reasons why 2008 is going to be the best year ever:
It was another 8am start for me today, I spent the morning daydreaming about my semi-autobiographical novel and all of its potential, then this afternoon my powerful field of glorious magnetons came into full effect as I attracted the new girl like the consummate natural I am. Instantaneous rapport and connection without exerting any real effort whatsoever. It gets easier and easier; because I'm cool, and all you have to be is cooler than the girl. I am very very tired now, hence another sloppy post here.
Nonetheless, as the title states this blog is about: 2008:
-Gym everyday will equal 18 inch biceps and RIPPED abs.
-My ''game'' is getting better and better
-The work I've done improving myself this year will fully blossom
-I will pull LOTS and LOTS of girls.
-I will have MORE money
-I will be travelling about the world
-My novel will be IMMENSE
-I will be super intelligent
-I will be super unstoppable.
-Michael
Nonetheless, as the title states this blog is about: 2008:
-Gym everyday will equal 18 inch biceps and RIPPED abs.
-My ''game'' is getting better and better
-The work I've done improving myself this year will fully blossom
-I will pull LOTS and LOTS of girls.
-I will have MORE money
-I will be travelling about the world
-My novel will be IMMENSE
-I will be super intelligent
-I will be super unstoppable.
-Michael
My Novel:
I'm about to start working on my semi autobiographical novel, which is tentatively titled ''Ripped Abs Hero'', which follows the protagonist 'Martin Allen' from the age of seven to twenty. The narrative is Martin Allen detailing his trials and tribulations: school, love, friends, sex, fights, basically all of the standout moments of his life which led upto his transformation with the help of his unnamed mentor.
Allen is a loser, an overweight, 'ugly', social misfit, with inept social skils and few friends up until he discovers a mentor who inspires him to transcend adversity, and completely turn his life around.
The novel takes place over the course of one cold december day (december 11th). Allen is thinking about his life as he wanders around a fictional Sunderland encountering an array of residents. The novel begins as Allen can't sleep at 5:30 in the morning and decides to walk 3 and a half miles wearing shorts in the biting cold to the beach, in which he runs along once he arrives there at 8am. He finds the run difficult as he has been slacking from exercise, is an occasional smoker and the cold winter air attacks his chest. He walks back soon after.
At ten am he ventures into the town centre where he wanders around and see's a girl who he tries to pick up, but fails.
At twelve o clock, in a contemplative mood, he meets a girl who he'd been speaking to on the internet, he confesses that he is a fan of Joyce and considers him the greatest writer and poet of all time, although he hasn't finished reading any of Joyces work. They discuss literature.
At two o clock he takes her back to his parents empty house and has sex with her.
At three o clock she leaves, he makes a tuna and cucumber sandwich and sits on the settee thinking.
...........
At eight o clock he goes to the gym with one of his best friends 'The Slasher' who picks him up.
At ten o clock, he feels tired, and considers the future and leaving his beloved hometown indefinitely and muses that when he comes back, he is transformed, and if he comes back maybes he can get his beloved Lotte to be his girlfriend after all.
That is the schema thus far,
-Michael
Allen is a loser, an overweight, 'ugly', social misfit, with inept social skils and few friends up until he discovers a mentor who inspires him to transcend adversity, and completely turn his life around.
The novel takes place over the course of one cold december day (december 11th). Allen is thinking about his life as he wanders around a fictional Sunderland encountering an array of residents. The novel begins as Allen can't sleep at 5:30 in the morning and decides to walk 3 and a half miles wearing shorts in the biting cold to the beach, in which he runs along once he arrives there at 8am. He finds the run difficult as he has been slacking from exercise, is an occasional smoker and the cold winter air attacks his chest. He walks back soon after.
At ten am he ventures into the town centre where he wanders around and see's a girl who he tries to pick up, but fails.
At twelve o clock, in a contemplative mood, he meets a girl who he'd been speaking to on the internet, he confesses that he is a fan of Joyce and considers him the greatest writer and poet of all time, although he hasn't finished reading any of Joyces work. They discuss literature.
At two o clock he takes her back to his parents empty house and has sex with her.
At three o clock she leaves, he makes a tuna and cucumber sandwich and sits on the settee thinking.
...........
At eight o clock he goes to the gym with one of his best friends 'The Slasher' who picks him up.
At ten o clock, he feels tired, and considers the future and leaving his beloved hometown indefinitely and muses that when he comes back, he is transformed, and if he comes back maybes he can get his beloved Lotte to be his girlfriend after all.
That is the schema thus far,
-Michael
Monday 10 December 2007
Reasons to be thankful...
I am truly greatful that I have been blessed with so many great things in my life. I'm greatful I was blessed with the hinderance of being an academically unclever, fatty with crooked teeth, shit hair and bad skin, who got picked on and beaten up at school aswell as being rejected, and verbally fist fucked off countless girls, this has only served to make my personality strong and my drive to succeed much greater than all of those who bullied me, and the girls who rejected me.
I am greatful for the brutal 'we're just friends' from Maria, which for two years plagued me, as I battled to get out of the ';frineds zone' to absolutley no avail, systematically humiliating and myself and failing in every possible way in the process. Nonetheless, without this, I would not have discovered such fantastic 'mentors' and teachers, I would never discovered men with such names as David Deangelo, Tyler, Sinn, Mystery, Captain Jack et al and of course my hero Jeffy from RSD, who has helped me to transcend these adversites.
I am greatful to God, that whilst others are content to be fat, not get laid, and still work the 40 hour week just to come home and be depressed, I have the foresight to live my life my own way and put my personality on the line without fear. Be able to recognise whenever I feel down and stop it and so many other things. I am greatful for this tuppensapenny job that I have which gives me money and few hours which allows me to pursue my passions.
I am greatful to my parents to feed me and allow me to stay in this house. For free.
There is so much more I am greatful for too.
In my life Non, je ne regrette rien, why should I?
-Michael
I am greatful for the brutal 'we're just friends' from Maria, which for two years plagued me, as I battled to get out of the ';frineds zone' to absolutley no avail, systematically humiliating and myself and failing in every possible way in the process. Nonetheless, without this, I would not have discovered such fantastic 'mentors' and teachers, I would never discovered men with such names as David Deangelo, Tyler, Sinn, Mystery, Captain Jack et al and of course my hero Jeffy from RSD, who has helped me to transcend these adversites.
I am greatful to God, that whilst others are content to be fat, not get laid, and still work the 40 hour week just to come home and be depressed, I have the foresight to live my life my own way and put my personality on the line without fear. Be able to recognise whenever I feel down and stop it and so many other things. I am greatful for this tuppensapenny job that I have which gives me money and few hours which allows me to pursue my passions.
I am greatful to my parents to feed me and allow me to stay in this house. For free.
There is so much more I am greatful for too.
In my life Non, je ne regrette rien, why should I?
-Michael
''Prepare for glory''
It's been a long day at work. Surprisingly not very busy. But still very tiring. I've almost finished christmas shopping and I purchased six cases of lager on my credit card. I've read several pages of 'On the road' by Kerouac. It's very good so far.
I've been to the gym tonight. Lot of hard work went in. I'm determined to attain my 18inch biceps and ferocious ripped abs. I consumed a big protein shake. That's pretty much my day in a nutshell.
My mission is to be the best I can be. I want an amazing body. I want to be super intelligent. I want to be fascinating. I want lots of money. I want to travel the world alone or with friends. I want interesting and amazing experiences in life. I want have an amazing vocabulary. I want be an exceptional writer as at the moment, I'm very sloppy. I want Lotte, that gorgeous auburn haired minx of desire.
I will achieve these particular goals.
I'm going to listen to Creed, fuck about on myspace for a bit more. Then read some more. Another 'long' day ahead tommorow.
I feel very determined. Relentless. Unstoppable. I believe I can achieve anything I put my mind to, very much.
The world always gives you everything you want enough.
-Michael
Sunday 9 December 2007
FR: Super Hottie
There's a girl I work with and she's super hot. Like a real life 9. She has tanned skin, shiney dark hair, glittering white teeth and eyes of beauty.
I got into work five minutes late, I go to my checkout we start shooting the breeze. Nimbus in full effect. I talk openly and confidently. I know I can have this girl. I am projecting my fucking full soul.
It is like there is a ray of glorious light projecting out from the core of my being and everyone is drawn in.
Lunchtime comes, I see the other girl who I've been 'crushing on', I make eye contact with her. I start a conversation. The soul is an unstoppable energy forcing generated from the core of my being. I see her attraction, it is obvious.
This is a kind of confidence I never used to have. I used to be good at faking confidence. This is the real thing.
I don't need to lie. I don't need to be anything or anyone I'm not. I don't need to entertain anyone. I don't need any swirly whirly pick-up routines. Shit, I don't need anything.
Whilst I was reading Will Self's Junk Mail (which I finally finished) during the final chapter, which is a conversation with the novellist Martin Amis. Amis makes a statement which rings very true with me; as a guy who used to pretend to be people I wasn't and say things I stole off other people in the hope of being accepted and liked.
This statement actually hit me on a very profound level:
''The basis of all plagiarism is to feel the security of another writers presence in your work, because everybody knows 'they're good'. So if I can get a bit of them in my work it will give it a bit of strength. But of course it isn't, it's a bit of weakness. But now it's much more a feeling that when I address a particular scene or description, I think not so much 'how would they do it? as just thinking that they've done it, and it can be done and it can be made new. So it's just a feeling of friendly presence.''
This pretty much summises my whole attitude to 'pick-up' as of late.
So anyway, I've got the girls who I've been 'crushing on's' phone number, and the nine has a boyfriend. But nonetheless it is only a matter of time before she's mine.
Overly self-confident? I don't think so. The proof is in the pudding. My 'game' is getting tighter and tighter and will only become more amazing as time progresses on.
I mean how can these girls possibly resist? Boyfriends or no boyfriends. That doesnt mean shit, when these hotties come across guys like me, who project their souls, and draw the girls into a magical fun filled world of absolute glory and desire from beyond time.
Nevermind what will be happening next year, in the 2008. The year of ripped abs, 18 inch biceps, sexual abundance and triumphant victory.
This shit is possible NOW.
It's when you have days like these. You talk to the hotties, and you can just interact with them on a real genuine level and feeling that you can have them, at the core of your being .It makes being verbally fist fucked countless times all seem so worth it.
Life is beautiful now. It will only get better. How could it possibly not.
-Michael
I got into work five minutes late, I go to my checkout we start shooting the breeze. Nimbus in full effect. I talk openly and confidently. I know I can have this girl. I am projecting my fucking full soul.
It is like there is a ray of glorious light projecting out from the core of my being and everyone is drawn in.
Lunchtime comes, I see the other girl who I've been 'crushing on', I make eye contact with her. I start a conversation. The soul is an unstoppable energy forcing generated from the core of my being. I see her attraction, it is obvious.
This is a kind of confidence I never used to have. I used to be good at faking confidence. This is the real thing.
I don't need to lie. I don't need to be anything or anyone I'm not. I don't need to entertain anyone. I don't need any swirly whirly pick-up routines. Shit, I don't need anything.
Whilst I was reading Will Self's Junk Mail (which I finally finished) during the final chapter, which is a conversation with the novellist Martin Amis. Amis makes a statement which rings very true with me; as a guy who used to pretend to be people I wasn't and say things I stole off other people in the hope of being accepted and liked.
This statement actually hit me on a very profound level:
''The basis of all plagiarism is to feel the security of another writers presence in your work, because everybody knows 'they're good'. So if I can get a bit of them in my work it will give it a bit of strength. But of course it isn't, it's a bit of weakness. But now it's much more a feeling that when I address a particular scene or description, I think not so much 'how would they do it? as just thinking that they've done it, and it can be done and it can be made new. So it's just a feeling of friendly presence.''
This pretty much summises my whole attitude to 'pick-up' as of late.
So anyway, I've got the girls who I've been 'crushing on's' phone number, and the nine has a boyfriend. But nonetheless it is only a matter of time before she's mine.
Overly self-confident? I don't think so. The proof is in the pudding. My 'game' is getting tighter and tighter and will only become more amazing as time progresses on.
I mean how can these girls possibly resist? Boyfriends or no boyfriends. That doesnt mean shit, when these hotties come across guys like me, who project their souls, and draw the girls into a magical fun filled world of absolute glory and desire from beyond time.
Nevermind what will be happening next year, in the 2008. The year of ripped abs, 18 inch biceps, sexual abundance and triumphant victory.
This shit is possible NOW.
It's when you have days like these. You talk to the hotties, and you can just interact with them on a real genuine level and feeling that you can have them, at the core of your being .It makes being verbally fist fucked countless times all seem so worth it.
Life is beautiful now. It will only get better. How could it possibly not.
-Michael
Saturday 8 December 2007
Ham on Rye by Charles Bukowski
Upon discovering Bukowski, I read 'Women' and at the time it was the best book I had ever read for the way it was wrote, it's brutal raw honesty and authenticity and the lessons I learned from it; it actually transformed my paradigm of interacting with 'Women' more than two years as a 'player' in the pick-up artist community, as strange as that may sound.
Then I read 'Post Office' which is Bukowski documenting his days working for the US Postal Service. He basically managed to make one of the most boring jobs imaginable sound fascinating, and not by glamourising his job either. If anything, it was completely the opposite, he stripped down his job to its lowest most raw denominator.
After that, I almost immediately read Factotum, which I believe I've reviewed on here already. After Factotum, I was well and truly hooked, and alas now I'm reading Ham on Rye.
Although I'm only half way through; it reminds me of one of my favourite books 'Angelas Ashes' by Frank McCourt which is the greatest Irish book of the last century.
It contains the atypical raw honesty and uncompromising authenticty I love about Bukowski, the dry wit, short punchy sentences and chapters which makes it almost impossible to put down. The hilarity mixed with the twinges of sadness are compelling, and make for a magical literary journey from beyond time.
Bukowski is my favourite author, very much. I look forward to recieving more of his work for christmas.
Ham on Rye may very well be my favourite Bukowski novel yet.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
An apothegm: read all of this guys fucking work.
Enough thinking about things for one day, I'm going to watch Kill Bill now on my laptop as the flashing scenes of ultraviolence accompanied by a typically quirky Tarantino soundtrack projecting from my damaged pixelated screen reduce my brain cells and frontal lobe to ivicerated cabbage. Like coleslaw.
Goodbye.
-Michael
Then I read 'Post Office' which is Bukowski documenting his days working for the US Postal Service. He basically managed to make one of the most boring jobs imaginable sound fascinating, and not by glamourising his job either. If anything, it was completely the opposite, he stripped down his job to its lowest most raw denominator.
After that, I almost immediately read Factotum, which I believe I've reviewed on here already. After Factotum, I was well and truly hooked, and alas now I'm reading Ham on Rye.
Although I'm only half way through; it reminds me of one of my favourite books 'Angelas Ashes' by Frank McCourt which is the greatest Irish book of the last century.
It contains the atypical raw honesty and uncompromising authenticty I love about Bukowski, the dry wit, short punchy sentences and chapters which makes it almost impossible to put down. The hilarity mixed with the twinges of sadness are compelling, and make for a magical literary journey from beyond time.
Bukowski is my favourite author, very much. I look forward to recieving more of his work for christmas.
Ham on Rye may very well be my favourite Bukowski novel yet.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
An apothegm: read all of this guys fucking work.
Enough thinking about things for one day, I'm going to watch Kill Bill now on my laptop as the flashing scenes of ultraviolence accompanied by a typically quirky Tarantino soundtrack projecting from my damaged pixelated screen reduce my brain cells and frontal lobe to ivicerated cabbage. Like coleslaw.
Goodbye.
-Michael
Christmas Adversity...
''There is no carnival without suffering.''-Nietzsche.
The whole christmas thing isn't going very well thus far. I can't afford to buy booze or vodka, or shit whiskey for that matter. I can't buy any presents for people or for myself without using the credit card, and it's another ten days until I get paid.
Fucking direct debits.
So whilst my friends are going out partying it up like the fucking Prince song, forgetting the year and minus the soiree suits. I'm just going to be working or sitting in the house, reading, watching DVD's or working, or working out.
My plan for the next ten days is to build up as much muscle as is humanly possible, maintaining an extremely disciplined diet in order to increase my metabolic rate. The reason being of course so I can drink more when I finally get paid, and overcompensate for the 3 weeks of 'forced detox'; not too dissimilar to my hero Takeru Kobayashi preparing for a competitive eating competition.
I suppose it really comes to something when you're not working out to get a good body, you're working out to binge drink more.
I foresee AA meetings in 2008.
Oh, the humanity.
-Michael
The whole christmas thing isn't going very well thus far. I can't afford to buy booze or vodka, or shit whiskey for that matter. I can't buy any presents for people or for myself without using the credit card, and it's another ten days until I get paid.
Fucking direct debits.
So whilst my friends are going out partying it up like the fucking Prince song, forgetting the year and minus the soiree suits. I'm just going to be working or sitting in the house, reading, watching DVD's or working, or working out.
My plan for the next ten days is to build up as much muscle as is humanly possible, maintaining an extremely disciplined diet in order to increase my metabolic rate. The reason being of course so I can drink more when I finally get paid, and overcompensate for the 3 weeks of 'forced detox'; not too dissimilar to my hero Takeru Kobayashi preparing for a competitive eating competition.
I suppose it really comes to something when you're not working out to get a good body, you're working out to binge drink more.
I foresee AA meetings in 2008.
Oh, the humanity.
-Michael
On self belief, confidence and living your life your own way...
| Invictus |
| OUT of the night that covers me, | |
| Black as the Pit from pole to pole, | |
| I thank whatever gods may be | |
| For my unconquerable soul. | |
| In the fell clutch of circumstance | 5 |
| I have not winced nor cried aloud. | |
| Under the bludgeonings of chance | |
| My head is bloody, but unbowed. | |
| Beyond this place of wrath and tears | |
| Looms but the Horror of the shade, | 10 |
| And yet the menace of the years | |
| Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. | |
| It matters not how strait the gate, | |
| How charged with punishments the scroll, | |
| I am the master of my fate: | 15 |
| I am the captain of my soul. |
This reminds me of the James Allen quote: "'Circumstances do not make a man; they reveal him.' The sobering aspect of this is that we have no-one to blame for our problems but ourselves. On the other hand, this means our possibilities are limitless."
We are entirely responsible for ourselves. This is the most empowering thing I think I've ever heard. I have complete power over my life. My circumstances. I can achieve anything as long as I take responsibility.
Another great related quote is ''There are no such things as limiting beliefs. The only limiting belief is believing there are such things as limiting beliefs.'' Which is a loose paraphase, but very very true.
With so many people in the world who will put you down at every concievable opportunity, why would you possibly want to impose a disempowering identity upon yourself?
The key phrase being 'impose' as in, it's all fucking ego bullshit. It's an egoitic world, you create the story of who you are. Really, as long as you're aware of your ego that's enough. So if you're going to create a story of who you are, you may as well select a particuarly empowering one.
Now, I'm not suggesting here that you go lying or deluding yourself. Not at all, personally I have chosen a gradual path of self-improvement. I live my life my own way and do the things that make me happy with out concerning myself with the opinions of others.
''It doesn't matter what other people think, it's none of your business''
Indeed.
I'm in control of my destiny. Are you?
-Michael
Friday 7 December 2007
Fuck, I'm writing a novel...
I've decided that I'm going to begin writing a novel.
Tentatively, it will be a semi-autobiographical novel set over the course of one day, but in that one day every aspect of the protagonists ego, personality, conceits, love life, inner most thoughts and lies will be peeled away as he encounters a variety of characters. It will be a honest, authentic no-holds barred realistic overview of a day, with surrealistic parts as he sheds his unconscious.
The characters will each represent in essence the absurdity of existence each with their own highly detailed and constructed personas.
This will require a lot of research and further reading to help create the visceral topography of the novel.
My goal is to be able to embody every single last detail about the protagonist, leaving no detail ommited whilst at the same time it will portray a story one persons quest for acceptance and love in a bizzarre world.
This novel may take upto ten years to complete, it is inspired truly by my greatest literary hero Joyce, but by the time it is finished it will be my masterpiece.
Some of it will be funny, some of it will be tragic.
I'm immensely looking forward to piecing it all together.
That is all.
-Michael
Tentatively, it will be a semi-autobiographical novel set over the course of one day, but in that one day every aspect of the protagonists ego, personality, conceits, love life, inner most thoughts and lies will be peeled away as he encounters a variety of characters. It will be a honest, authentic no-holds barred realistic overview of a day, with surrealistic parts as he sheds his unconscious.
The characters will each represent in essence the absurdity of existence each with their own highly detailed and constructed personas.
This will require a lot of research and further reading to help create the visceral topography of the novel.
My goal is to be able to embody every single last detail about the protagonist, leaving no detail ommited whilst at the same time it will portray a story one persons quest for acceptance and love in a bizzarre world.
This novel may take upto ten years to complete, it is inspired truly by my greatest literary hero Joyce, but by the time it is finished it will be my masterpiece.
Some of it will be funny, some of it will be tragic.
I'm immensely looking forward to piecing it all together.
That is all.
-Michael
Thursday 6 December 2007
Who do you want to be?
Inspired by TMM's master instructor Sinn, who posted the following:
''We are all works in progress, so I think it's very important to periodically define what characteristics you want to be defined by.
So I made a list of characteristics I want to eventually embody. I also made a list of things to work on daily and long term in devloping or maintaining these characteristics.''
My own personal ''to-do list'' is as follows:
1. Intelligent
=1. Coolest person ever.
2. A super genius
3. Hot
4. Great body
=4. Fit and healthy.
5. Talented
6. Admirable
7. Heroic
8. Dominant
=8. More assertive.
9. Extremely attractive
=9. Very very original.
10. Stylish
11. Personable
12. Charismatic
13. Polished
14. Sociable
15. Leader of men.
16. Wealthy.
17. Extraordinarily interesting.
18. Funniest person in my social circle.
19. Good friend.
20. Responsible.
21. Mature.
22. Boyfriend material.
23. Strong.
24. Completely honest and authentic bereft of ego.
I'm sure there's more, but these are the main ones that immediately jump into my head. I'm well on the path to a few of these, but nonetheless, it's always good to have something to work towards.
-Michael
''We are all works in progress, so I think it's very important to periodically define what characteristics you want to be defined by.
So I made a list of characteristics I want to eventually embody. I also made a list of things to work on daily and long term in devloping or maintaining these characteristics.''
My own personal ''to-do list'' is as follows:
1. Intelligent
=1. Coolest person ever.
2. A super genius
3. Hot
4. Great body
=4. Fit and healthy.
5. Talented
6. Admirable
7. Heroic
8. Dominant
=8. More assertive.
9. Extremely attractive
=9. Very very original.
10. Stylish
11. Personable
12. Charismatic
13. Polished
14. Sociable
15. Leader of men.
16. Wealthy.
17. Extraordinarily interesting.
18. Funniest person in my social circle.
19. Good friend.
20. Responsible.
21. Mature.
22. Boyfriend material.
23. Strong.
24. Completely honest and authentic bereft of ego.
I'm sure there's more, but these are the main ones that immediately jump into my head. I'm well on the path to a few of these, but nonetheless, it's always good to have something to work towards.
-Michael
Average day
So I'm sitting on the bed writing, the sun is glaring through the window and I'm feeling queasy, uninspired. I know I have to write something, or I'll be a fucking plebian over christmas. I look down towards my feet, it strikes me, that this is an interesting composition of things.
It pretty much sums up the way I've spent the majority of my days for the past few months, as I've tried to scrape by. Survive. I tell myself ''d00d, I've got to photograph this shit.'' Strangely enough, I begin to feel slightly reinvigorated, inspired again. I blast out 850 words of glorious sequipedalian and hyperbole, perfect syntaxes. I smile triumphantly.
Glorious indeed.
[Reposted from flickr.com]
- Michael [2007]
Michael fucking no drama
I've spent the day working. This being my first 'real shift' for approximately eleven months. It passed without any notable incident, the place was fairly quiet and the whole Rebecca saga seems to have finally passed.
I'm considering writing an epic on here documenting my trials and tribulations with women. Completely honest, no holds barred. I'm not exactly sure when I have the time to construct this masterpiece of drama and debauchery, however I hope to do it very soon indeed.
I'm looking at some of my pictures. I think I may take photography as a serious hobby next year and add t onto my list of what I believe are highly achievable goals, namely:
-Incessant reading.
-Developing an amazing vocabulary.
-Eighteen inch biceps.
-25 miles per week on the treadmill.
-Ripped fucking abs.
-Optimum strength.
-New hobbies.
-Furthering my writing ability.
-Bolstering my IQ back upto 144 and above.
-Travelling.
-Adventures/Misadventures deluxe all recorded and accounted for.
-Moving to Spain.
-Actually having money.
I've already begun taking measures to get back onto the 'right track' for want of a better term. I want to be getting the really high quality girls again next year.
I'm a cool guy so I deserve it, and owe it myself to deliver the fucking goods.
I love me a good challenge.
-Michael
I'm considering writing an epic on here documenting my trials and tribulations with women. Completely honest, no holds barred. I'm not exactly sure when I have the time to construct this masterpiece of drama and debauchery, however I hope to do it very soon indeed.
I'm looking at some of my pictures. I think I may take photography as a serious hobby next year and add t onto my list of what I believe are highly achievable goals, namely:
-Incessant reading.
-Developing an amazing vocabulary.
-Eighteen inch biceps.
-25 miles per week on the treadmill.
-Ripped fucking abs.
-Optimum strength.
-New hobbies.
-Furthering my writing ability.
-Bolstering my IQ back upto 144 and above.
-Travelling.
-Adventures/Misadventures deluxe all recorded and accounted for.
-Moving to Spain.
-Actually having money.
I've already begun taking measures to get back onto the 'right track' for want of a better term. I want to be getting the really high quality girls again next year.
I'm a cool guy so I deserve it, and owe it myself to deliver the fucking goods.
I love me a good challenge.
-Michael
Wednesday 5 December 2007
Michael fucking Drama
I was talking to my dad earlier on, and although I often disagree with him just to find out he was fucking correct in his assumptions. This evening he hit the nail right on the fucking head.
I'd posted the blog earlier about my downward spiral; then he started talking about how I've been decreasing down the social ladder for the past four years.
Four years ago it was Roisin, who is now studying Law at Oxford with Latin to become a barrister. I lost her through drunken stupidity.
Then it was Maria, who studies History in Northern Ireland. I lost her through general stupidity.
Then there was Lotte, who studies Sociology at the university of Sunderland. I lost her through drunken stupidity.
Then the latest is Rebecca, who never even went to College and will probably never pertain to anything and in my fathers words is a 'doleite'. I managed to fuck this one up through drunken stupidity.
I also fucked up a solid phone-number tonight through self-amusing stupidity, after a few drinks I became kind of arrogant again, as if I could say whatever the fuck I like.
Now I'm obviously not learning my lessons here; however, more perturbing than the obvious lesson which is I should follow Gene Simmons righteous path. My biggest sticking point with girls is just saying stupid shit whilst under the influence of booze.
I forget who it was who said ''If it takes you more than once to learn a lesson, you're learning the wrong lesson.''
Well I've wasted four years learning all kinds of strange shit just to come to an obvious revelation.
I really shouldn't drink at all.
Losing five girls, possibly even more is ridiculously stupid and on that basis alone, I kind of deserve to be single at this point.
However, this lesson will stick with me. If I ever do this shit again, I literally not figuratively deserve fucking shooting.
Nonetheless, on another note: I hope I've finally ended the drama with Rebecca, (however I have an eery feeling she'll have some kind of rebuttal) I actually sent her boyfriend a message confessing everything. The tall bastard will probably want to beat the shit out of me with his swirly whirly self defence ju-jitsu moves. But I suppose at least I will have another story to show for it *yawn*.
From: Rebecca
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 02:06
SO FUCK OFF WRITIN BLOGS!! YOU LOSER MORON WITH NO FRIENDS! GET A LIFE AND STOP RUINING EVERYONE ELSES!! TAKE A HINT YOUR BARRED FROM TTONIC! BECOZ YOUR A PYSCHO DRUNKEN TWAT!!!
LEAVE ME AND DAN ALONE
OH AND CHLOE!!
WE HAVE LIVES START GETTING ONE FOR YOURSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ''
From: Michael
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 01:02
I haven't got a life? HAAAAA
And what qualifies you to call anyone a loser moron?
Plus you have lots and lots of friends yourself don't you Rebecca? No. There's a difference between solid friends and aquaintances/one night stands deluxe. I'd write a decent reply, but I really don't give a fuck about you enough to exert the effort. -shrugs-
-m
From: Rebecca
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 13:54
You said it yourself you have no friends! and that you love me!! how sad you dont even know me! i have best friends, friends, boyfriend a job and a hobby! a life! dont reply
To which I replied:
What the fuck are you talking about? When did I say love you? Shit, I might debase myself with drugs and booze and do things that will fucking haunt me for the rest of my natural life but I've never said I love you.
Hahah oh, are you talking about my piss take weeping text message? A variation of the one I've been sending for about four years to people who don't answer phone calls and shit. Hahahahahahahahahah you can't possibly take that shit seriously. Can't stop laughing now.
Oh and you have a hobby wooooooooo go you!! Woooooooooooooooo
That didn't her stop her though:
From: Rebecca
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 17:03
seriously michael thanks alot because of your selfishness Dan now wants to end it! he's seen that filth of a blog! and ive lost him because of you and your lies!!!!
hope your satisfied! and you get your kicks out of it becoz thats what you do in life ruin other peoples lives for your own pleasure!!
From: Michael
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 09:36
You couldn't have picked a more appropriate title for your message than 'what the fuck?'
1. Where/what are these lies? I'm a lot of things, I'm not a liar though.
2. What's he doing looking at my myspace page anyway?
And by the way, I don't ruin peoples lives for my own pleasure, the truth is, people don't interest me to want to ruin them.
I'm admittedly quite self-absorbed at times, and into amusing myself, but I don't do it at other peoples expense.
From: Rebecca
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 19:26
yes you do! yes you are a lier! he looked i dont know why?sum1 said look at this! butnow he is giving it another go no thanks to you!
From: Michael
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 11:32
How am I liar? The blog is EXACTLY what happened. -shrugs- And if he's giving it another go that's his problem.
From: Rebecca
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 19:36
leave me alone!!
To which I retorted:
Fuck you, you're the one hassling me. I have a good mind to tell your boyfriend your dirty little fucking secrets, because you're so full of shit.
I'm sure he'd be delighted when I regale him about the times we had fucking sex. And how you incessantly sleep around and that time you caught herpes. Don't you ever try and call me a fucking liar and try and bullshit me. Actually fuck it. I feel sorry for the guy. Game over.
And then this to her boyfriend:
I'm only sending you this, not as to be a dick but to tell you the truth, because I feel really bad, when we met you seemed like a decent guy. Even though I was very drunk.
I'm tired of Rebecca incessantly messaging me, and saying shit. Me and her slept together on two occasions whilst you were/have been going out with her.
Once was on the wednesday, she came around me we got extremely drunk and had sex.
The second time was the thursday when she was at yours, I met her there, it was the time your friend wouldn't let me in the house. As soon as we got to the bottom of the street and she was all over me, she came back to mine and we had sex twice that night, and she stayed for the vast majority of the next day and was reluctant to leave.
Even on the monday night she was kissing me and shit.
She will cheat on you mate, and it's not just with me, it's completely within her nature to sleep around. She even told me before about how she caught herpes off some lad from a one night stand. Like I said, this is no bullshit, and I'm not doing it as to be a jerk, I'm just thoroughly tired of her sending me bullshit messages and you deserve to know this.
You deserve better.
-M
To be perfectly self critical, all of this was highly unnesacary, I should never have been drawn into this kind of bullshit drama in the first place. It's definitely another character flaw that I seriously have to ammend.
Human fucking drama pfffft. Sooooo childish.
Sort it out Michael; you know better.
As a kinaesthetic person. I feel very much a chode right now.
-Michael
I'd posted the blog earlier about my downward spiral; then he started talking about how I've been decreasing down the social ladder for the past four years.
Four years ago it was Roisin, who is now studying Law at Oxford with Latin to become a barrister. I lost her through drunken stupidity.
Then it was Maria, who studies History in Northern Ireland. I lost her through general stupidity.
Then there was Lotte, who studies Sociology at the university of Sunderland. I lost her through drunken stupidity.
Then the latest is Rebecca, who never even went to College and will probably never pertain to anything and in my fathers words is a 'doleite'. I managed to fuck this one up through drunken stupidity.
I also fucked up a solid phone-number tonight through self-amusing stupidity, after a few drinks I became kind of arrogant again, as if I could say whatever the fuck I like.
Now I'm obviously not learning my lessons here; however, more perturbing than the obvious lesson which is I should follow Gene Simmons righteous path. My biggest sticking point with girls is just saying stupid shit whilst under the influence of booze.
I forget who it was who said ''If it takes you more than once to learn a lesson, you're learning the wrong lesson.''
Well I've wasted four years learning all kinds of strange shit just to come to an obvious revelation.
I really shouldn't drink at all.
Losing five girls, possibly even more is ridiculously stupid and on that basis alone, I kind of deserve to be single at this point.
However, this lesson will stick with me. If I ever do this shit again, I literally not figuratively deserve fucking shooting.
Nonetheless, on another note: I hope I've finally ended the drama with Rebecca, (however I have an eery feeling she'll have some kind of rebuttal) I actually sent her boyfriend a message confessing everything. The tall bastard will probably want to beat the shit out of me with his swirly whirly self defence ju-jitsu moves. But I suppose at least I will have another story to show for it *yawn*.
From: Rebecca
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 02:06
SO FUCK OFF WRITIN BLOGS!! YOU LOSER MORON WITH NO FRIENDS! GET A LIFE AND STOP RUINING EVERYONE ELSES!! TAKE A HINT YOUR BARRED FROM TTONIC! BECOZ YOUR A PYSCHO DRUNKEN TWAT!!!
LEAVE ME AND DAN ALONE
OH AND CHLOE!!
WE HAVE LIVES START GETTING ONE FOR YOURSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ''
From: Michael
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 01:02
I haven't got a life? HAAAAA
And what qualifies you to call anyone a loser moron?
Plus you have lots and lots of friends yourself don't you Rebecca? No. There's a difference between solid friends and aquaintances/one night stands deluxe. I'd write a decent reply, but I really don't give a fuck about you enough to exert the effort. -shrugs-
-m
From: Rebecca
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 13:54
You said it yourself you have no friends! and that you love me!! how sad you dont even know me! i have best friends, friends, boyfriend a job and a hobby! a life! dont reply
To which I replied:
What the fuck are you talking about? When did I say love you? Shit, I might debase myself with drugs and booze and do things that will fucking haunt me for the rest of my natural life but I've never said I love you.
Hahah oh, are you talking about my piss take weeping text message? A variation of the one I've been sending for about four years to people who don't answer phone calls and shit. Hahahahahahahahahah you can't possibly take that shit seriously. Can't stop laughing now.
Oh and you have a hobby wooooooooo go you!! Woooooooooooooooo
That didn't her stop her though:
From: Rebecca
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 17:03
seriously michael thanks alot because of your selfishness Dan now wants to end it! he's seen that filth of a blog! and ive lost him because of you and your lies!!!!
hope your satisfied! and you get your kicks out of it becoz thats what you do in life ruin other peoples lives for your own pleasure!!
From: Michael
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 09:36
You couldn't have picked a more appropriate title for your message than 'what the fuck?'
1. Where/what are these lies? I'm a lot of things, I'm not a liar though.
2. What's he doing looking at my myspace page anyway?
And by the way, I don't ruin peoples lives for my own pleasure, the truth is, people don't interest me to want to ruin them.
I'm admittedly quite self-absorbed at times, and into amusing myself, but I don't do it at other peoples expense.
From: Rebecca
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 19:26
yes you do! yes you are a lier! he looked i dont know why?sum1 said look at this! butnow he is giving it another go no thanks to you!
From: Michael
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 11:32
How am I liar? The blog is EXACTLY what happened. -shrugs- And if he's giving it another go that's his problem.
From: Rebecca
Date: 05 Dec 2007, 19:36
leave me alone!!
To which I retorted:
Fuck you, you're the one hassling me. I have a good mind to tell your boyfriend your dirty little fucking secrets, because you're so full of shit.
I'm sure he'd be delighted when I regale him about the times we had fucking sex. And how you incessantly sleep around and that time you caught herpes. Don't you ever try and call me a fucking liar and try and bullshit me. Actually fuck it. I feel sorry for the guy. Game over.
And then this to her boyfriend:
I'm only sending you this, not as to be a dick but to tell you the truth, because I feel really bad, when we met you seemed like a decent guy. Even though I was very drunk.
I'm tired of Rebecca incessantly messaging me, and saying shit. Me and her slept together on two occasions whilst you were/have been going out with her.
Once was on the wednesday, she came around me we got extremely drunk and had sex.
The second time was the thursday when she was at yours, I met her there, it was the time your friend wouldn't let me in the house. As soon as we got to the bottom of the street and she was all over me, she came back to mine and we had sex twice that night, and she stayed for the vast majority of the next day and was reluctant to leave.
Even on the monday night she was kissing me and shit.
She will cheat on you mate, and it's not just with me, it's completely within her nature to sleep around. She even told me before about how she caught herpes off some lad from a one night stand. Like I said, this is no bullshit, and I'm not doing it as to be a jerk, I'm just thoroughly tired of her sending me bullshit messages and you deserve to know this.
You deserve better.
-M
To be perfectly self critical, all of this was highly unnesacary, I should never have been drawn into this kind of bullshit drama in the first place. It's definitely another character flaw that I seriously have to ammend.
Human fucking drama pfffft. Sooooo childish.
Sort it out Michael; you know better.
As a kinaesthetic person. I feel very much a chode right now.
-Michael
68,295 words until this blog isn't pretentious...
I'm edging closer to the final section of Will Self's Junk Mail; upon finishing I will start 'Ham on Rye'.
I have been outside running around like a headless chicken chasing the amazing contraption that is the aerobie. This is a unique and useful exercise routine which has been developed and inspired from the notorious Jeffy of RSD and Matthew McConaughey, the Hollywood hearthrob with the amazing body. Not that I'm gay or anything.
I'm feeling more motivated now.
I feel a sense of purpose.
I also have a sense of uncontrollable laughter due to the myspace messages I've been recieving from 'secret lover' who has been mentioned way to many times already on this page to the point of overkill. I don't even consider this drama anymore, it's just hilarious, but more a waste of time; and she's a very prosaic, waste of time as far as I'm concerned.
Anyways, I will get on with my reading. Lots of things to do. If I can blast through this fucking Will Self book, I might be able to even finally watch Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill which I have wanted to see for approximately two years.
I love me some Quentin Tarantino, easily the best director of the fucking 90's yo.
Okay, let's do this. Enough pretentiousness for one day. Heheheh
-Michael
I have been outside running around like a headless chicken chasing the amazing contraption that is the aerobie. This is a unique and useful exercise routine which has been developed and inspired from the notorious Jeffy of RSD and Matthew McConaughey, the Hollywood hearthrob with the amazing body. Not that I'm gay or anything.
I'm feeling more motivated now.
I feel a sense of purpose.
I also have a sense of uncontrollable laughter due to the myspace messages I've been recieving from 'secret lover' who has been mentioned way to many times already on this page to the point of overkill. I don't even consider this drama anymore, it's just hilarious, but more a waste of time; and she's a very prosaic, waste of time as far as I'm concerned.
Anyways, I will get on with my reading. Lots of things to do. If I can blast through this fucking Will Self book, I might be able to even finally watch Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill which I have wanted to see for approximately two years.
I love me some Quentin Tarantino, easily the best director of the fucking 90's yo.
Okay, let's do this. Enough pretentiousness for one day. Heheheh
-Michael
Futility and ego...
Lately, my ego has had an upsurgence again. I've spent the last three weeks, getting 'outside of my head'.
I've been on a downward spiral of sorts as I've been on a drinking binge, with some filthy 18year old, when I haven't been drinking, I've been lazy and consumately unmotivated as to do anything productive.
What's causing this? Is it the fact that I have few friends, work in a menial job, and have very little money. No, all of that is completely irrelevant.
It's all ego, as Eckhart Tolle would say.
My story of who I am is becoming conflicted.
I just have to realise that the past few weeks are completely irrelevant. It's easy to get into these patterns. I recall reading in Influence by Cialdini, how natural human instinct is to be consistent with past decisions.
If we're talking consistency here, then at the current rate, it would be only too easy for me suffer a downfall similar to that of your typical Irvine Welsh protagonist.
Although it's still coming from a place of ego, I would naturally, as would anyone in their right mind have to shift my thoughts from being a scumbag on a downward slope to someone with a purpose, desire, a drive and hunger to succeed. Not just to get by on a day to day basis.
''What one man can do, any man can do.''
Saying this is no good as simply only an affirmation, it has to be a belief.
Corraboaritive evidence in the past would suggest I do believe this.
I['m starting now rekindling that fire of desire, that hunger and crux of self-belief where I believe that everything is quite simply attainable.
This isn't no recital of Tony Robbins bullshit, I have to pick myself up and be the ripped abs hero, super genius of glory.
Girls at the moment are irrelevant. I spend way too much time thinking about girls. I have to have some 'me' time, at least me doing everything I want to do.
Ego? Yes, maybe.
I have to rekindle that sense of self-satisfaction once more. Truly, stop giving a fuck; and start doing everything literally for my self once again.
Getting laid is truly the last thing on my mind right now.
I want to get fit and get my abs sexy and ripped for me.
I want to read everything under the sun, for me.
I want to be a fantastic writer, for me.
I want to do interesting things, for me.
I'm going to stop drinking, for me, and so on.
Striving forward with desire, passion and a determination to succeed has to be my modus operandi, for me.
It's personal standards.
Like Tolle says in A New Earth, your ego is there, as long as you realise it is there that's enough.
-Michael
Not a particuarly great entry. Nonetheless, I think it was essential for my peace of mind.
I'm gonna lord up, and make christmas 2007 a one of magical glory.
I've been on a downward spiral of sorts as I've been on a drinking binge, with some filthy 18year old, when I haven't been drinking, I've been lazy and consumately unmotivated as to do anything productive.
What's causing this? Is it the fact that I have few friends, work in a menial job, and have very little money. No, all of that is completely irrelevant.
It's all ego, as Eckhart Tolle would say.
My story of who I am is becoming conflicted.
I just have to realise that the past few weeks are completely irrelevant. It's easy to get into these patterns. I recall reading in Influence by Cialdini, how natural human instinct is to be consistent with past decisions.
If we're talking consistency here, then at the current rate, it would be only too easy for me suffer a downfall similar to that of your typical Irvine Welsh protagonist.
Although it's still coming from a place of ego, I would naturally, as would anyone in their right mind have to shift my thoughts from being a scumbag on a downward slope to someone with a purpose, desire, a drive and hunger to succeed. Not just to get by on a day to day basis.
''What one man can do, any man can do.''
Saying this is no good as simply only an affirmation, it has to be a belief.
Corraboaritive evidence in the past would suggest I do believe this.
I['m starting now rekindling that fire of desire, that hunger and crux of self-belief where I believe that everything is quite simply attainable.
This isn't no recital of Tony Robbins bullshit, I have to pick myself up and be the ripped abs hero, super genius of glory.
Girls at the moment are irrelevant. I spend way too much time thinking about girls. I have to have some 'me' time, at least me doing everything I want to do.
Ego? Yes, maybe.
I have to rekindle that sense of self-satisfaction once more. Truly, stop giving a fuck; and start doing everything literally for my self once again.
Getting laid is truly the last thing on my mind right now.
I want to get fit and get my abs sexy and ripped for me.
I want to read everything under the sun, for me.
I want to be a fantastic writer, for me.
I want to do interesting things, for me.
I'm going to stop drinking, for me, and so on.
Striving forward with desire, passion and a determination to succeed has to be my modus operandi, for me.
It's personal standards.
Like Tolle says in A New Earth, your ego is there, as long as you realise it is there that's enough.
-Michael
Not a particuarly great entry. Nonetheless, I think it was essential for my peace of mind.
I'm gonna lord up, and make christmas 2007 a one of magical glory.
Drinking....
I had my first drink when I was about thirteen, I actually bought it myself. I convinced the shop owner I was a vertically challenged eighteen year old, similar to the late Joe C from 'Kid Rock'... and he served me. What the fuck? This may very well have set the precedent for years to come.
Alcohol + Michael = absurdity.
The next time I went into the shop though, he'd figured it out, and asked me for ID which I wasn't able to provide. Obviously.
As we got a bit older, we used make 'shit mixes', which you'd make by basically ramsacking your grandparents spirit rack when they weren't looking and pouring a small portion of each spirit into a small plastic bottle and then hide the bottle and get drunk by passing it around with your friends, or if your friends weren't man enough, you'd just drink that crunk yourself.
This was the case, the first time I got REALLY drunk, we were at a girls house from our social circle, and I proceeded to get wasted and humiliate myself. My best friend threatened to beat me up because I had such red eye and was completely embarrasing myself amongst my social peers.
This pattern continued every now and again, one of my memories of guilt from my teenage years was getting caught by my grandmother when she accidentally knocked my coat off the hook to uncover a quarter bottle of whiskey I'd hidden inside the pocket. I still feel really bad about that actually.
We started hitting the bars when we were fifteen, me and this really skinny guy called Dean, who I fell out with later, but at the time he was my only friend. We'd go out with £10 and make it last all night (somehow). It really wasn't difficult at all to get served. You only have to be eighteen to drink, and aslong as you memorised a birthdate which when accumulated made you eighteen you were gold.
So we'd go out, I fell in love with a barmaid, used to pretty much furtively stalk her whilst I tried to make my £10 last. Me and the skinny guy fell out over something. I went back to my old group of friends, we got particuarly drunk one night, and I got thrown out of a bar for the first time at the age of fifteen for sitting on top of one of those stupid gambling machines, god only knows what possessed me to do something so stupid. I walked home, bleery eyed and warbling. A theme that has made a renaissance in recent weeks.
I started drinking with my older-cousin a short while afer this, after my deranged obsession for barmaid girl had reached boiling point, I was thrown out of a bar for the second time in my life. This was the same night I managed to drink my self sober for the first time.
We'd go out every friday night, as I, an aspiring sixteen year old drinker attempted to conquer ten pints of lager every single friday night. There was a lot of projectile vomiting.
I went into my first nightclub, a large room full of the dregs of society really, lots of dance music. In hindsight it was the most disgusting place you could ever go, ten pounds in, as much as you could drink. Naturally I loved it. I kissed my first girl on a night-out on the same night. She was hot. I was addicted.
I drank incessantly for the next three years,amassing a glorious beer belly in the process. At the age of ninteen I decided it would be best to cut out lager in order to get a six pack. My new tipple would be vodka and soda, less than 100 hundred calories no carbs.
As a side effect though, I actually get more drunk on Vodka and soda than I do on regular lager and end up getting into more bizarre situations, and as a consequence, recieve messages such as this:
''Subject:
YOUR FUCKING CRAZY!
Body:
SO FUCK OFF WRITIN BLOGS!! YOU LOSER MORON WITH NO FRIENDS! GET A LIFE AND STOP RUINING EVERYONE ELSES!! TAKE A HINT YOUR BARRED FROM TTONIC! BECOZ YOUR A PYSCHO DRUNKEN TWAT!!!
LEAVE ME ALONE
I HAVE A LIFE START GETTING ONE FOR YOURSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!''
My drinking seems to have came full circle. This was off a girl I'd been sleeping with, a barmaid incidentally, until I got thrown out for being a drunken lunatic in her bar on saturday night.
I think it's time I gave up drinking indefinitely; and I'm not even 21 yet.
-Michael
Alcohol + Michael = absurdity.
The next time I went into the shop though, he'd figured it out, and asked me for ID which I wasn't able to provide. Obviously.
As we got a bit older, we used make 'shit mixes', which you'd make by basically ramsacking your grandparents spirit rack when they weren't looking and pouring a small portion of each spirit into a small plastic bottle and then hide the bottle and get drunk by passing it around with your friends, or if your friends weren't man enough, you'd just drink that crunk yourself.
This was the case, the first time I got REALLY drunk, we were at a girls house from our social circle, and I proceeded to get wasted and humiliate myself. My best friend threatened to beat me up because I had such red eye and was completely embarrasing myself amongst my social peers.
This pattern continued every now and again, one of my memories of guilt from my teenage years was getting caught by my grandmother when she accidentally knocked my coat off the hook to uncover a quarter bottle of whiskey I'd hidden inside the pocket. I still feel really bad about that actually.
We started hitting the bars when we were fifteen, me and this really skinny guy called Dean, who I fell out with later, but at the time he was my only friend. We'd go out with £10 and make it last all night (somehow). It really wasn't difficult at all to get served. You only have to be eighteen to drink, and aslong as you memorised a birthdate which when accumulated made you eighteen you were gold.
So we'd go out, I fell in love with a barmaid, used to pretty much furtively stalk her whilst I tried to make my £10 last. Me and the skinny guy fell out over something. I went back to my old group of friends, we got particuarly drunk one night, and I got thrown out of a bar for the first time at the age of fifteen for sitting on top of one of those stupid gambling machines, god only knows what possessed me to do something so stupid. I walked home, bleery eyed and warbling. A theme that has made a renaissance in recent weeks.
I started drinking with my older-cousin a short while afer this, after my deranged obsession for barmaid girl had reached boiling point, I was thrown out of a bar for the second time in my life. This was the same night I managed to drink my self sober for the first time.
We'd go out every friday night, as I, an aspiring sixteen year old drinker attempted to conquer ten pints of lager every single friday night. There was a lot of projectile vomiting.
I went into my first nightclub, a large room full of the dregs of society really, lots of dance music. In hindsight it was the most disgusting place you could ever go, ten pounds in, as much as you could drink. Naturally I loved it. I kissed my first girl on a night-out on the same night. She was hot. I was addicted.
I drank incessantly for the next three years,amassing a glorious beer belly in the process. At the age of ninteen I decided it would be best to cut out lager in order to get a six pack. My new tipple would be vodka and soda, less than 100 hundred calories no carbs.
As a side effect though, I actually get more drunk on Vodka and soda than I do on regular lager and end up getting into more bizarre situations, and as a consequence, recieve messages such as this:
''Subject:
YOUR FUCKING CRAZY!
Body:
SO FUCK OFF WRITIN BLOGS!! YOU LOSER MORON WITH NO FRIENDS! GET A LIFE AND STOP RUINING EVERYONE ELSES!! TAKE A HINT YOUR BARRED FROM TTONIC! BECOZ YOUR A PYSCHO DRUNKEN TWAT!!!
LEAVE ME ALONE
I HAVE A LIFE START GETTING ONE FOR YOURSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!''
My drinking seems to have came full circle. This was off a girl I'd been sleeping with, a barmaid incidentally, until I got thrown out for being a drunken lunatic in her bar on saturday night.
I think it's time I gave up drinking indefinitely; and I'm not even 21 yet.
-Michael
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