Yes it’s that time again, including a slightly new version of the test card, where I pick up my funky keyboard with the dodgy A and S keys, and decide on the best way to describe my lack of updating of this, my supposed tomb of knowledge where I ponder upon life, occasionally moan, do some reviews of games and movies due to not knowing what else to actually fill up the blog with and therefore the best it always comes to at the end of it all is; Oh I’ve been busy, look see I’ve only typed some crap on Twitter for everyone to see.

But the tragic truth is, there has been plenty going on and a sheer lack of apathy as usual seeped in.

You see, this blog had only a few views every so often at the height when I was actually busy burrowing into people’s minds and showing them the horrors of the world, so as time went on, I came down south and I withdrew from the online world, obviously there was far less to put on, and in turn, when it came to coming up with something poignant to write, that would inspire people into national outrage and burning cars in the streets, it just came back down to the simple fact; I’m boring.

When you’ve become boring, it’s a rather hard thing to break away from and your creativity when summoned into action, seems to have the panther like speed and charisma of a old man with a beer belly barely contained with a string vest. The exact same string vest you end up wearing to hide the big man boobs that developed from eating a heart-attack-in-a-bun 10 times a day, and hugging your 34th beer, knowing it will never say to you that you’re a failure.

And rather strangely, after leaving my last job in the bastard world of IT (come on, you know it’s all rock and roll! Remember the drug fuelled orgy which occurred that time we installed Windows?), which really did sap all my strength, it seems that after all that, there is nothing left in the box. At least nothing that people would be interested in, at least.

Oh sure I could tell about the few times I’ve been out on the town with one friend who happens to be a little sexy Columbian lady, who also seems to think she’s doomed to rot in a crap job forever, or maybe the fact that most people seem to have an Apple If**k taped to their limbs just in case they look at a man wearing a hat and have to type all about on Facebook.

Indeed, because of such devices, the fine art of conversation seems to be heading down hill too, again most of it that comes out of our blood filled mouths is crap no-one cares about at all, and most of the time, all you wanted to do was come along and have some cake. But that cake came with having to pretend to listen to someone you didn’t even know that well despite knowing of their existence for years, oh yes, please tell me about yet another trip abroad you took where you posed for 45896794856 pictures then just getting pissed and vomiting onto a simple local man which you then took a picture of…oh wonderful, you’ve got them with you…..

What about the few films I have seen, such as Inception staring Leo Di Vinci which went inside people’s heads in dreams within dreams with other dreams being seen in a dreamy type dream thing.

Or the Expendables, a film filled with lots of old action film stars, of which the film fails to meet so low a standard, I could shove a paint brush up my arse, and paint something more fun on a wall while bouncing on a tramp. What about seeing for the first time a true comic drunk, Doug Stanhope, where such wonderful things like “The bible is a lot like Timecop. It’s great as long as you don’t ask questions.” was heard?

Or what about the fun and frolics today, being topical about the London Tube strikes, which did provide some inconvenience but ultimately what difference does it all make? What about the fact people seem to care about Wayne Monkey Roooooooooney apparently having naughty with a prostitute. Well……what other reason would you pay a lady of the evening for? To play Scrabble? Oh yes, here’s a triple word score, all using the letter X, har har. Who actually cares? I’d love to be able to afford such luxuries (yes, in a recession, we’ve all had to cut back…..:) )

But the question would actually be; would you actually care about what a fat lump with a severe lack of understanding of the world, and still thinks fart sounds are funny thinks?

Seriously, sometimes I wonder if I just write stuff on here every so often, and write things on those supposed social things, just so someone pays attention to me? Meh.

Maybe my 35th beer will help….