Heaven Help You Catch Me When I Fall

Don't ask about the title. No idea why I called it that.

I want to ask your advice.

How can I make myself not look like a drug dealer in photographs?

I mean, look at this... And if you hadn't guessed, I'm the one wearing the grey hoodie...

As you can guess, I didn't take the photograph, so this photograph belongs to
the one who took the image, who is called Angharad Price. I think...

I look like I've just scored a hit, and eyeing down some pimp who won't give me more drugs. I mean, look at me. If you can handle looking at the hideousness that is my face for longer than three seconds. I really look like I'm high on drugs.

My thought is that my pictures look like I'm high on wacky-backy all the time because I'm a clean boy. I do not delve into alcoholism nor do I jump into drugs. Doubt that's the fact. Ah well.

Seriously, all my photos look like that. Well either that or what my display picture looks like on Facebook and Twitter. Or, for those who cannot be arsed to visit the links, here it be.

Ah, finally a face that a mother could
love...

See? Isn't this a better picture of me? As you cannot see my faux drug-filled face. Nice.

This is one reason why I hate having my photograph taken. I either look high or pissed. Or both. Or if someone's pissed on me. Well, you get the picture. And even if I do have my photo taken, my first instinct is to stick my arm out and show you the finger of dread. Or, my photographic finger.

Ah, I am glad that I'm one of these people who can take the piss out of themselves and everyone can agree on it. Lovely.

In other news, I have none. Apart from the fact that I broke a plate about ten minutes ago. I tried to microwave a pizza. Well, I did microwave a pizza, I just tried to cut it with a pair of scissors, and then the pizza and the plate decided on going on a business trip to have a discussion on how to waste people's time with the floor. It was a successful meeting. Shit.

Well, I shall leave you for the time being. I have to finish two essays, two websites and a CD cover before the holidays end. Lovely. Not only that, it is likely that I'll write something either later or tomorrow to "review" my year. God, don't I sound like a prick...

- Have you heard the news that you're FIN?

Faking It

I just saw the end of a show on the BBC. It was about GCSE students preparing for, and attending, their prom.

I had one thought all the way through the time I watched...

I'm so glad I didn't go to my prom.

Yes. That's right. I believe that my non-appearance at my year's prom night was an advantage for both me, the other prom night goers, and the economy.

One thing that shocked me in the show was the amount of money some people spend on prom stuff. About five hundred quid? Doesn't that seem... I don't know... way too much for one day? Well, except for weddings and the like, that's an understandable occasion for spending large amounts of money for a day.

Granted, five hundred pounds is not considered a large amount of money these days. People seems to flutter that amount of money every week. But to me, its rather a lot.

Luckily, as a human being with testicles and a penis in my trousers, I wouldn't have needed to spend that amount of money on clothes, make up and travel.

Being me, like I am most of the time, I'd look for the most reasonably priced suit (not tuxedo, not a fan of those if I'm honest with you). Not in an attempt to be extraordinarily in being tight with my money, I just didn't (and don't) see the point in throwing away money for something I'd wear once.

Not only that, it cost something on the lines of thirty quid for a meal and some drinks. That seems a lot. But then again, this is from someone who finds ways on getting Pizza Hut for less.

Another reason why I'm happy with the fact that I didn't go to the prom is, well, the whole social thing. I haven't kept the fact that I don't go out and drink a secret. I don't thrive in situations that demand me to make conversation for conversation's sake. What's the point in that? That's one reason why I stay quiet for the majority of the day. If I have nothing of worth to talk about, I'll be quiet. If I have something to ask someone then I'll talk then, or if someone asks me a question.

A great example of this is of me attending my cousin's parents' vow renewals. The service was rather long (but then again, I'm no Christian, and I found the service rather sexist, but that's just my opinion), but when everyone went to eat food was the point where I became undone.

I ended up doing what I've done in every party I've been to. Sit in one spot, watching the others doing what 'normal' people do. My cousin called me normal, when I told her that I wasn't hungry and I only eat when I'm hungry. She was the first person to call me normal for this thought of mine. Anyceremony, everyone was talking to each other, either about the whole marriage thing or some other subject. Me? I just sat in one place.

I also have a thing about eating in public. Yes, I've done it before, but only on some occasions that I do this. One of these occasions is if I'm hungry. Another of these is if I feel comfortable where I am and who I am with. There are other things, but I can't be arsed to go into them deeply.

I also hate the fact that the word arsed is considered wrong by Firefox. Even arse results with the red squiggly line under the word. Ah well.

The final reason, though there are other reasons that I cannot remember properly at this moment in time, is the attention. Yes, I know I wouldn't have a lot of attention, all I know is that I'd have at least a number of people come up to me and try to get me to drink alcohol or to go up and dance. I say no. They either come back with why not?, what a twat or something like that. So what if I'm a twat for having these thoughts on the subjects in question. I'd rather be a twat and remembering what happened than wasting money by drink all night and then forgetting what you did in the morning in the unwelcoming grasp of a hangover.

Oh, I love the sober life, I really do.

Anyway, I know how much this blog post must make me sound like a right wanker who is tight with his money and needs therapy to rid me of abnormal thoughts. Oh, and a little disclaimer, I'm not trying to offend in my posts. If you do get offended, forget about it. What happens when you do get offended? Nothing. You don't suddenly fall pregnant to a giraffe, neither will you lose your genitalia. It's just a thing that goes away after a certain amount of time.

- Let the bodies hit the floor. Let the bodies hit the floor. Let the bodies hit the floor. Let the bodies hit the.... FIN.

Enter Sandman.

This isn't a post of any significance really. It's like ten to midnight, and I should be getting to sleep soon.

Luckily, it's a Friday, and I don't have to wake up early for school tomorrow.

Mozzeltoff.

So, as I type up this post, BBC2's unleashing its boredom onto me. And I'm passing on my boredom to you. Ah, c'est la vie...

So yeah, there's been a few parties that I've had the fortune to miss and the misfortune to listen to how 'epic that nite waz'. By the by, most likely if I type in that textspeak and talk about partying... eleven times out of seven, it won't be me. Anykestril, as I typed (or said, whatever tickles your pickle), I've missed all of them. Woo. One person keeps nagging me about why. Maybe, just maybe, that there can be some people on this world who don't find slowly killing yourself while at the same time making a total arse of yourself not as orgasm-creating as others do. Also, how does the fact that I don't drink lower the chances of - and I quote - 'you getting vagina?'... So apparently, you have to get pissed to begin a relationship, it doesn't matter if the opposite sex likes you or not.... Ah, how pathetic that arguement is... and that's a mini-rant. Or Mint... if you will.

Talking about mints... I baught two packs o' SoftMints today. Well good.

So yeah, again my plague of writing songs too similar to well known songs has happened. I think I've said about the one that sounds like Hysteria by Muse. Now I've made one that sounds like the song I'm recording for Music Technology (that's Today by Smashing Pumpkins). Damn this brain.

But hey, I believe my bass skillage's improving. I can now play a handful of bass songs by Muse. Woop woop and an extra dosage of wehey for the road. The most recent song I've learned is Supermassive Black Hole. Yeah, it's not hard... comparing to other bass songs... but who cares? I'm getting better... I hope. =].

I really can't think of anything really.

Apart from kestrils.

No idea why.

I've got kestrils on the brain.

Ah well, must dash... I'm yawning like someone who yawns alot.

Oh, imaginative way to finish your post, Ga... What's next?

Er.... this...

-Finissimo.