Once again, it has been a while since I last checked into the Anonymous Moan Vestibule. It appears clear that you shall only be hearing from me, when I have a particular gripe to air, to purge, to lay forth upon the grainy roads of catharsis. So here I am again, and what have I whinge about today you ask? Well I could begin with the loathing that runs deep into the fleshy white cell platelets that keep out the poisonous antibodies within my bubbling veins of London Ungerground Staff, but I shan’t waste my time. I think I will settle today for the entire of humanity. What a bunch of arseholes we are. Jean-Paul how right you were, my fiend. People are horrid whiney, lazy, greedy, selfish excuses for life form and I am not an animal lover let me tell you. It’s not that I don’t like things like dogs and cats, actually it is, because I don’t really, but what befuddles me more are those people that dress them up as humans and take them to restaurants and things. What’s wrong with just leaving them alone and letting them make their own way in life. It seems really passive controlling to me, just swooping them up qs if they have no other available option and subject them to a life of sitting quietly in a hollow shell of concrete instead of just letting them prance around and play with the other cats and stuff. For god sakes, they must miss that unparalleled thrill of catching food of one’s own. I know this to be true, not because of an innate Dr doolittle talent for communicating among the uncivilised but merely because I went fishing once and the glee created from said event from the partakers in said event was second only to the glee that I have witnessed a small child gets from drooling over and simultaneously hiding a set of keys. All this said, we’ve got it all wrong in, in life I mean. I am often confused why people make the life choices they do and what ultimately they are getting out of it. Mortgages, is one of those life choices I can not understand and along with it the desire to own your own little piece of land for which you are free to reign upon your miniscule kingdom of concrete and swedish furniture that’s shit anyway. Honestly, just completely knocks me out when I try and justify the logic in my head. I am aware that it is something I should and probably shall do at some point in my life, but my internal inquiry monitor just simply can not get its little cells round this one. Why is this a good investment again? What will I be getting in return that I would already be able to obtain by renting a place to live and finally another question that always springs to mind, is why do people say rent is wasting money when it is giving the palpable privilege of somewhere to live and lays ones head and meagre belongings. It’s not wasted as such is it? Think about it kids and stop repeating verbatum excerpts from the seemingly financially savvy bloke you share a pint with every now and again in the pub. No doubt for some, the mortgage is the financially viable option in a saturated market of property doom but really, what is the point in getting yourself on a rotting and soggy ladder only to find yourself in danger of falling off, when actually standing on the ground was a perfect height for what you wanted to reach anyway. and other tenuous rhetorical metaphors….
Yeah, so. Mortgages, rubbish, you won’t see me getting one anytime soon when I can rent a beautiful flat in Zone 1, walking distance from work (if I was to work) rather than schlepping from boretown, suburbsville in zone 8 and seven quarters or somewhere just to call something my own. I don’t care about possessions enough for that kind of longing. I could go on further about how humanity and their ways will eternally puzzle me in this day and age, I have a plethora of nonsensical things that we all (and by ‘we’, I mean a polite ‘you’) adhere to without even thinking about their actions, which to my mind are a waste of time and energy that could be more wisely spent having more love and sex, sitting in fields, experimenting with different wines and thier effects upon the personality and getting yourself to another country using the power of persuasion only. These to me all seem like perfect things to focus on other than work, mortgages, weekly shops and eastenders, and who said that jane got fat and maximillian looked at me funny on the bus and troilus ignored my texts and other nonsense. I may suggest that a way to brighten your trivial daily antics that obviously incite such irriatable and miserable and selfish ways is to commence wherever possible some ridiculous behaviour of sorts. I will list a few things that may provide as possible suggestions.
1.) Spark up cliched conversation about the weather or the war in Iraq and force someone into a tete a head on the tube. This will sort the men from the labotomy mice. The people whose charisma meter is wavering off the scale will be those who take on your friendly advances and thus sort out those others as being tedious sorts.
2.) The office game, the group hug, the breaking down of people’s comfortability factors, and instigating a ‘hug a jew’ day or ‘celebrate the disabled’ day for example, has great effect upon morale.
3.) Actively not looking for the directions to a particular destination you need to be at, creates for all sorts of adventure and in the face of adversity, left with nothing but nouse and the kindness of strangers, you will be surprised as to what can happen and who you can meet.
Go forth and conquer.
