Thursday 11:25 a.m.
I'm a wee bit crabbit today since I began dancing the dance of death with the Nicotine Dargon over the past two nights, and I'll have to stop again. Today. Crabbit.
Once when I was about seven, I worked out with Jake, who lived across the road, that I'd had a birthday the week before and no one had told me, or given me anything. So I demanded 2/6 from my maw. I can trace all my problems with other peoples' birthdays to this day. If I'd said to Jake: who gives a fung about birthdays anyway? I might have had some high moral ground to rest on today.
Some people have to do things on their birthdays. It's not just a matter of wasting money ... like buying them perfume which you have no recollection of ever smelling ever ... and eating some cake, some people have to do things, and you have to do things with them for some reason.
I'm expected to go to a movie this afternoon because it is somebody's birthday. I'm expected to go and meet some other folk tonight because it is somebody's birthday. Sometimes birthdays can last for about three days around here! The kiddo once had a birthday that lasted about two weeks!
A foreign language movie with subtitles are the best ones to close your eyes too, but it'll end up with some girlie crap about falling in love with someone with no facial blemishes at all, far less a good dose of scurvy, which I might have, or some lip cancer. God, it might even end up being a movie about someone falling in love with someone with lip cancer and then their dog dies.
I blame this all on capitalism and the evil bourgeoisie. Folk like moi from big families are supposed to be taught about our comparative lack of importance ....this universe is about 76 billion light years across for God's sake! ... while all this buttering folk up on their birthdays just causes their heads to be stuck even further up their backsides.
Thursday's gone, Jack. My wonderful Thursday of being left alone. Friday is gone completely as well. Flatheids will descend for a meal on Friday night. I'm still trying to hang on to Saturday. On Sunday I'm going to a wedding in the depths of Ayrshire, where there be cannibals, and will probably have to spend a week on dialysis to recover from that.
I just came out of my bedroom, the last hiding place, to complain a bit. There are flatheids everywhere on my wonderful Thursday! Basturns, the lot of them!
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3 comments:
sy!
It's only a month or so since your last birthday. No wonder you're ageing so rapidly!
MM III
Mingin'! Other people have birthdays. If it was just my birthday all the time, that might be alright. Anyway, I have survived. The horror .... the horror! Hotboy
Insightful post. The repressed memory stuff about the 7 year old actually made sense. Next thing you know, you'll be recovering memories of not being toilet trained. More revelations - why you can't help blaming your mess on capitalism. This is great progress!
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