Wednesday, 18 August 2010

A Murderer is a Murderer, But a Pet is Still Cute with Blood on its Lips.

Hello my fellow cynical people. If you are not cynical and don't have a heart of stone. First off you're strange for reading this and second of all you are a lucky bastard. But let us not dwell on such matters. I assume you wish to know why I have such a title.


It's a simple matter that could be conveyed in a paragraph or two but like most writers I will draw it all out very dramatically as if it is more than a blip on the cosmic radar of existence that continually bleeps on forever, eventually forgetting us as we fade into the universal darkness that is nothing.


A few months ago, my family got a new dog. First of all we were expecting a chocolate Labrador of around 6 months age. What we got was a Pater dale Terrier. So it wasn't even close in the end but both me and my mother fell in love with the cuteness of the thing, he was very shy and huddled close to me as we drove home. Which warmed my crumbled heart with the flames of dependency and ever lasting love which a dog gives its master. In retrospect I see I was dooped and deluded at the time.


While my father was not hating the idea of a new dog. No dog could replace our other dog Cassie. So Gordi -that is what we named him, after Gordon- was treated well by all and given the standard daily allowance of belly rubs .


Another thing my dad loves along with Cassie. Is his chickens, 4 of them in fact. Very lovely chickens that provided eggs that we would enjoy. Often enough my parents -on a sunny day- would sit out in the sun and watch the chickens just wander around they fenced off area of the garden. It gave my father a purpose he had seemed to loose when my older brother moved out and even more so when his mother died. He cared for the chickens so much he even got a cockerel with the intention to breed. Sadly Cliff had to be taken away when the neighbours began to complain.


Gordi too was fascinated by the chickens wandering in their home. Though it was for a much more malicious reason than my father's. One day we left the patio door open to let some air in and allow the dogs to bask in the sunny day. My mother was tending to household chores and my father was virtually falling asleep in his arm chair when we heard the cries. My father instantly sprung out of his chair and ran into the garden. It wasn't long until I was told one of the chickens had been killed.


My father was furious. Sitting in his arm chair staring at the TV which was currently off. What was running through his mind I knew not. Though the rest of the chickens remained unharmed thus much of the rage subsided quickly.


Only a month after had Gordi killed another. 2 remained.


As you can see where this is going I won't beat too much around the bush. On the final day of the remaining chickens I was sat in the living room. My parents were at work and I was enjoying the empty house as much as I could. Which is never very much. I had decided to watch a film. I foolishly left the patio door open to let air in on the hot summer's day. Not 30 minutes into the film did I begin to hear cries. It took a moment to register what was going on but when I realised I ran out into the garden to see one chicken laying lifeless and another in Gordi's bloodied jaws. He dropped the chicken as soon as he heard me coming and tried to dash for it. I grabbed him and with a heave I threw him across the garden in rage.


The last chicken was dying. Its eyes were open but its neck was broken. It was clinging to life with nothing but crushed bones and slow breathes. I could do nothing but sit with it and not only watch but feel it die in my hands. Knowing full well what might have happened to Gordi if all the chickens died. I pleaded for it to live but to no avail. The chicken convulsed and gave a fleeting cry before finally stopping its breathing and movement. I lay it on the ground as my father finally came into the garden. His face turned from the smile of seeing his son and returning home to rest, to the dismay of seeing his last two precious chickens dead and me sitting nearby. He knew already who had done this. I said nothing. I will not lie to my readers, Gordi was beaten. But Terriers are naturally tough and resistant dogs so he took the few strikes and then took his chance to hide.


I helped my father dispose of the chickens and then sat by Gordi to defend him in case my father continued his rage. It was more for my father's sake than his. I did not want my dad to live with the fact that he killed a living thing in front of his son. So Gordi was defended and lives to this day.


I expected these were his last days in our house. But alas, my mother had the deciding vote and he stayed. Neither my father or myself wants him in the house. So why should he?
Whether he is my mother's pet or not, he killed 4 of my father's pets. There needs to some repercussions and compensation I think.


Though I find it hard to have any emotional attachment to anyone or anything but my father. I liked the chickens more so I liked that they made my father happier. Yet Gordi who makes no one but my mother -who mind you does not walk or feed him. That is left to me and my father- happy is still in this house. Every time I look at him I see his lips bloodied and crimson on his teeth. I am not saying he too should be dead, just not in this house.


- Matt
I don't hate life.
I just hate those that take it and don't loose anything. 

Thursday, 12 August 2010

I Hibernated Throughout the Summer

Hello readers! It's been a while. I would tell you how long exactly if I had any sort of inclination to do so.


The title tells you the gist of why I haven't been posting. It's the summer holidays over here and because I am about to go into college I have an extra 6 weeks of holiday. That's right a 12 week holiday. That's more than a 5th of a year which is an insane amount of time to do nothing.


How did I occupy myself? 
Well for one I got my lazy ass a job. I am now a working lad once a week which is fine and dandy. It's a horrible job but it's an easy job and I get paid so complaining isn't needed. Though I do it anyway.
I bought new manga, books and video games. I bought Starcraft 2 recently and lost myself in the madness of pure awesome.
I even recently managed to get a new loved one. Aww isn't that sweet, the cynical guy who hates the human race always gets the girl I'm sure that's how the saying goes.


Now you would expect any sane person to love having 12 weeks of basically nothing to do other than what he wants to do, when he wants to do it. Well the good thing is that I am no sane man.


At around week 4 I was already a little bored and loosing hope. Which is fine because I am always like that. But it came to the point where waking up on the morning started to feel pointless since I wasn't going to be doing anything productive with my time. I began to feel a great melancholy engulfing me.


With that happening I started getting involved in a lot more things. I threw myself into my writing/podcasting/voice acting/gaming and became a reasonably happy man.


Though I still can't remember much of the holidays. . .


- Matt
I don't hate life.
I just hate life that bores me.

Sunday, 11 July 2010

I'm Not on to Talk I'm on to Write Arrogant Blog Posts.

Now if you haven't noticed it's Sunday so technically even if it is 9:34Pm I should be asleep right now.


There is a great deal of flaw in the concept of online text based chat in the fact that it can't be done simultaneously with anything you're doing as it so claims. You have to continuously go back and forth between whatever it is your doing and the chat window. Having a laptop next to you with all your instant messengers doesn't change that it just means there is less clicking of the left mouse button involved.


The main fact is that no matter what you still have to divert 100% of your attention off of what you're doing. Which doesn't help when you are say: Trying to be an arrogant 'better-than-you' on a blog or just reading an article. 


The convenience really was out of the window when it started off on text and not voice where you only have to divert half your attention and can still use your eyes, never having to click on any other windows and just focussing partly on the one you're already on.


Now onto why the title is the title and why chat messenger is more inconvenient than you might think. I -and most people- don't log on their PC/Mac just to go on an instant messenger. I log on to check my youtube, play video games, edit videos or read things on the web. I might have a chat window open but it is not what I am on for.


So having a conversation on their is nigh impossible for me. I have often received complaints from people that I am impossible to talk to online. To which I reply: "Come to my house and talk to me in person than you hermit." Which is ironic coming from the young man who only leaves the house to walk the dogs.


Briefly I will ask that if someone wants to talk to me -or anyone for that matter- so much then why don't they just come over and sit with me and we'll have a real conversation? Is it just because they can't stare at porn when I'm actually in the room? Or if you are a girl -or some men- fawn over Justin Bieber pictures?


If a conversation is particularly interesting or someone on their seems interested in talking about something other than their high score on rockband or bitching about someone not in their circle of friends. Then I will dive in with my shorts off, but the fact of the matter is that a simple conversation about mundane and moot points isn't going to draw me in.


Now if I seem particularly cynical or particularly fond of the word particularly then that is just that. You may scold me and say: "Matthew however wonderful and charismatic you are, how can you say that?" But if you really look at yourself and your time on the PC you will also notice that you too aren't on the computer just to talk to people.


People that log onto computers just to go on MSN and talk all night are either an instance of one of three things:
a) Extremely lucky in the fact that they are satisfied with any conversation pointless or not.
b) Very dull.
c) Has a very dull life.


- Matt
I don't hate life.
I just hate life that is stupid.


P.S I noticed people don't seem to get my sign out. It doesn't mean I hate life at all (Hence the words "I don't") or that I think my life and everyone's is stupid. It means that I dislike it when a human being with the potential to be intelligent decides to be a moronic buffoon and waste their life away.

Saturday, 3 July 2010

Black pudding ... rather anti-climactic I'd say.

Hello everyone! It's Sulky Saturday and the sun is still shining to fit with the whole summer theme over here. 

As my Mother and Father are away for the weekend my Grand-Mother decided to take me out for a meal, I obliged because free meals are nice and I love my Grand-Mother. (Shut it I do love some people!)

We went to a place called 'The Three Nuns' A nice little place that does good British meals. I ordered the same thing I ordered 6 months ago: An all day breakfast without the fried eggs. It was delicious and wonderful but I noticed something had been added since the last time I had eaten there. It was black pudding. 

Now if any of you out there haven't heard or read about black pudding it is essentially a sausage made entirely out of the blood of a pig. It's extremely healthy and high in protein, so it's all round good though many people don't eat it because of the obvious fact it's just completely made of blood. Not many people are a fan of just eating thick slightly chewy blood. 'Sept if you're a twilight lover and only eating it because the rest of your fan-club does.

I too had never eaten it, not because it was blood, no. I just had never thought to ask my parents to buy one or ask for it in a restaurant in case I didn't like the taste. Today was different, it was coming with things I knew I wanted to eat. So to hell with it I thought, it is time to eat some black pudding at last.

I can't truly describe the way I was disappointed. It was a mixture of melancholy and strange expectations not being met. Now you would expect either one of two occurrences:
A) It tasted awful and everyone around me was right even though they had never eaten it.
B) It was delicious and it was just another thing that people were too stupid to try.
Neither of these happened. Not in the slightest.

Black pudding, if I was asked to describe the taste. Tastes just like sausage. Without a shadow of a doubt it tasted just like the hundreds of sausage I had eaten over the course of my life. It was like tofu made to taste just like beef. Just as tasty, but a million times more healthy.

This disappointed me because it meant people were eating something they found delicious, but a healthier and almost exact alternative stood around the corner. Not eaten because of how it was made. It also meant that all men and women that said and still say it is delicious are basically liars. Because what they should say is: "It just tastes like sausage really."

I have never seen a coin land on its side so perfectly. No one was right in this debate. Even if I was a huge fan of sausages -which I am not- the people who said it was delicious were still lairs. Because that says to me it has its own unique flavour, which it doesn't. It tastes like sausage.

- Matt
I don't hate life.
I just hate life that is stupid.

Thursday, 17 June 2010

Close but no cigar!

Hello my lovely readers! It is the Thursday of .... I don't think there is a word for sadness or anger or disappointment beginning with Thu. Oh well! It's Thursday and that's all that matters.


It was only mere minutes ago that I got the idea for this post. Thanks to the one and only Weird Al Yankovic and his song 'Close but no cigar' hence the title.


Now the song sings about a cat that has been with many women and can never seem to settle on one because of very small reasons. Such as: Using the wrong word in conversation and failing to realise it, Owning a copy of an awful DvD and having one earlobe bigger than the other.


I began to think how common this is in the real world. Not just among men but among women as well. We all like to pretend that when all of our relationships that ended, ended because of awful arguments or horrible catastrophes. Sadly, more often than not it is just over something trivial such as -see above-


It's strange how something so tiny can ruin your love for someone. Everything can be perfect for you: She could be smart, funny, cute but not overly attractive, a fan of anime and silly sit-coms but not childish ones, in love with the oldies in music like the ink spots and just a little bit shorter than you. But if she misses just one of those things it could be dyer for the relationship. The reason for this I am not sure of.


A lot of people say you just power through that stuff, but sometimes it just doesn't work. Maybe there is such a thing as fate and it isn't exactly what qualities a potential partner has, but the fact that it is that person. Who knows, eh?


- Matt
I don't hate life.
I just hate life that is stupid.

Friday, 11 June 2010

What odd thoughts we have, no?

Hello everyone it is 'F£$*&!% Friday' and what a glorious one at that.


As many people around the country I had a maths exam today. Happily enough I finished 30 minutes early and spent the next 15 minutes checking over my work and the last thinking. What those thoughts were I will share with you today.


Because of a mishap I have been trying desperately not to think about someone and sadly in exams that's all I've been able to think about other than the work at hand. So today I tried a new tactic and thought of a song. I imagined the band playing that song with their trumpets and what I presume would be a banjo if I hear it properly. Though even this failed when I began imagining that person dancing to the song in an admittedly odd fashion.


I attempted to counter this by filling the area they were dancing in with many other people and only their forehead was in view. Eventually this began to work as I started to imagine that bloke in the white suit doing disco dancing and all the fancy moves while everyone watched. I don't know the name of the particular move.


I continued to think about this and then thought about Ross Noble's joke about the only reason people made the circle was began the disco ball was actually a very large sparkly poo and they didn't want it to land on them. Which obviously is an undesirable thing to happen. And the only reason the man was still dancing was because he wanted to see how long he could dance underneath it without it falling.


But that's just one train of thought, a lot of the time I will think about anything. For example I once wondered that if the guy to the right of me's head exploded if I would have to retake the exam.


A common thought I have every exam is I begin to imagine what it would be like to suddenly grow wings. How everyone would be in shock and awe as my back burst with bones and feathers. Blood leaking from my shirt as I writhed in pain, then flew off laughing to myself.


Or that no one would give a shit and just keep on working until the end of the exam when everyone would crowed around and ask why I have wings.


Although I would always attempt to sleep when I am done with the exam; I would never be tired enough and my brain would run whiled. Constantly coming up with strange ideas and imaginings  that often make me wonder if I am still sane or not. Though that really doesn't have to be debated these days, but that is for another day.


- Matt
I don't hate life.
I just hate life that is stupid.

Wednesday, 2 June 2010

Holy crap this is a post? Where did these things go?

Greetings my loyal readers, you all look well. Have you been working out? Oh that new hair looks so dashing on you.


Now that the pleasantries of being reunited are out of the way, let's get on with things.


Today is as always a Weepy Wednesday. The weather is pleasant and my new shirt is comfortable and I am off school until Monday. Even though I will only have to go in for three lessons due to the nature of exams. So it isn't all that weepy.


Everyday when I walked to school, I stop at my old primary school and await the people I walk with. I simply stand at the gate leaning against one of the walls. Nothing special. 


Every morning I will see the same parents drop of the same students early so they can go to what is called 'Kids Club' to await the school to open its doors. Now none of this is exactly special but I will get to the point. Now among these students is one young boy probably in his last or second to last year of primary school. Each time I see him, he looks at me and I look back at him. None of this was aggressive or bemusement, we merely acknowledged each others existence.


Now one morning I decided to mix it up a bit. I smiled at the lad, not in any sort of weird way. I just felt like saying 'good morning' without saying the words. The surprising thing was that the boy did the same; he smiled back at me. From then on every morning the boy has smiled at me before I have even really woken up to do the same.


The point of all this is that there is still hope in the younger generation. As you may all know more often than not people that are younger than you -no matter your age- aren't exactly the easiest to get on with. Especially the newest generation of kids. The new 12-14 bracket has become a large group of disrespectful morons that think they own the world. Now I couldn't give a shit what they think because it's always funny to see people like that have their egos crushed when they realize the Earth revolves around the sun and not them.


Anyway, yes there is still hope. The youngest of this generation are still to some extent respectful of their elders and know their place. The only thing is we have to encourage this behaviour. Reward a child for being polite and chastise them for being rude. Also the big kicker is this: don't give them everything they ask for.


Parents seem to think that they have to be one extreme or the other. Just go with something and give them 1 out of every 3 things they ask for. And get them the second most expensive. Then work out an actual way to just say "no" every now and then.


- Matt
I don't hate life.
I just hate life that is stupid.