New year, new blog, same old shit.

So this year I decided for my new years resolution I would keep a diary (I also intend to be more of a bastard, bone more chicks and laugh at more spastics). Just for the record this isn't going to be some whiney emo fag journal about how nobody loves me and how much pain I have in my life, no, this diary will be so manly it will need to shave twice a day. So get your wankerchiefs out because I'm about to get started:

3rd Jan

Dear diary,

I started the new year of with a bang. I went to my lesbian friend Lee's house for a party. It was full of gay men and annoying fucking fag hag student girls. Ended up speaking to an irritating bint who kept saying shit like "oh my god, I love your look. You're sooo retro". What do you mean? "I mean you're just sooo 2004". What the hell does that even mean? How is 2004 retro, it was about 5 fucking minutes ago and what the fuck does 2004 look like? You know what, you're just sooo fucking down syndrome so go speak to someone else. I bailed and went to a party filled with lowlife dirtbags. My kind of people.

I've also started the new year with a nice bout of insomnia just to make going into work even more enjoyable. It doesn't help that my shifts are all over the place so I can't get into any sort of routine. It's not like I'm even paid very well, chinese kids in sweatshops laugh at how little I make. I should be doing something well paid and kick ass. With these sexy sideburns I should have an awesome job as a porn director or a fanny tester or something. If I ever see my careers advisor again I'm going to punch her tits in.

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5th Jan

Today I got sent home from work because I'm ill. You know you look like shit when you're offered four days off to recover, at my job you get less time off if you die. On my way to the bus station I was stopped by a charity mugger with a clipboard. She was about 18 and fancied herself as a bit of a sex kitten. She was twirling her hair with her finger and trying to pout and look cute, it didn't work, it just made her look like she was having trouble squeezing out a shit. She said "hey baby, want to talk to me for a minute?" Erm, not sure how to put this without sounding rude....no thanks, I'd rather wank my old man off. How's that? Does that flirty shit actually work? Are there guys out there so pathetic they actually think pretending to care about orphans needing busses and giving out their bank details would get them so much as a sniff of her pants? My first act when I become prime minister will be to change the law so anyone caught not punching charity muggers in the mouth will face stiff fines (which won't go to charity by the way, they will go towards building strip clubs on every corner).

In the summer I think I'll just get a t-shirt made with "stop me and I'll hurt you" written on it for the days I have to visit the town center.

I've also decided to fold and get some sleeping pills tomorrow if I don't sleep well tonight. If I don't report back next week I must have accidentally pulled a Heath Ledger. Remember that my dying wish is to have my ashes scattered in Will Smiths stupid fucking face.

See you next time diary, you utter cunt.

Love

Mike B