The Man Who Stopped Caring

Hey guys.

 

“We’ve got the results back for your swabs, and one of them showed signs of Chlamydia.”

“oh right” says I, opening Wikipedia to see what it actually is. It' was a bacterial infection apparently. 4 tablets on an empty stomach, and 48 hours later, I was grand.

Except the whole, having to tell people thing, that was an awful cunt. But in a way, it stops people bothering me, and sending me the most inappropriate messages at the most inappropriate times.

Weird thing is, I wish I could do this to more people in my life. Tell them that I don’t care about them any more, and please stop pretneding things haven’t changed. We’re all older, we’re all more mature now, and there’s people that need to get cut out a little bit. Sorry, but it’s true, I just don’t know how to do it.

There’s fucking holy murder here in Ireland guys. Basically the catholic church have been totally snared by this government report outlining clerical abuse of minors by priests in the 1950s – 1990s. This was all covered up by bishops and other such men in fancy hats, but now, even my mother, the devout catholic has stopped going to mass. The shit has hit the fan. In the words of Panti Bliss, religion poisons everything.

It’s a weird one blogging on Christmas day, but here I am. I’ve already decided, not because I have to, but because I want to, that in 2010 I am going to get a boyfriend and a job. And hopefully I’ll accomplish them things. But in saying that, I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time. I’ve got good friends, doing a course I enjoy, I’m getting on well with the family, and I’m not in any debt. Things might just be looking up :)

Merry Christmas everyone. Turn to someone, or ring someone you actually give a shit about and tell them that you care about them. It’s a small gesture. Show them you care.

Is anyone still reading this blog, anyway? :P

Quality, Not Quantity

It seems to be a mantra which is becoming more and more prevalent, no matter what the situation. Relationships, both mental and physical seem that much more special when their not an everyday occurrence.

I overtalk. Twitter, Blogger, Facebooker, (I can’t believe I’m laughing at my own joke right now) Skype, SMS’s and free calls from my service provider all result in not just me, but my whole generation is over communicating, but not actually communicating properly.

 

If you talk to someone every day, you will burn out the common interest between you, like your life and the life of yer mate will be come so predictable, so parallel, that you’ll lose the desire to speak to the person. Like running into a next door neighbour on public transport. You can’t escape, and the only thing that links you is that you both overspent on a house in the same area.

Sex. Yes, Sex. I’m a bit of a whore, I’ll admit, and as of yesterday, I was out with a guy I really like. We went for coffee, and we had witty banter, and there was a moment, but I though “ugh, again?”. The ‘special’ is gone. He was amazing, and because I’m so done with knowing what the end result of most male contact is, I no longer want it. It’s like eating ice cream after every meal. Soon you begin to hate it.

 

I’m now becoming a quality, not quantity man. And it is difficult. I’ve gone from introvert to extrovert, and now, now I need to pull back slightly, and maybe keep the Ace and the Jack close to my chest, what matters to me like.

My life isn’t a spectator sport. I’m going to make sure of it. You won’t catch me on Skype or MSN for the next week. Constant availability isn’t an attractive feature. Who goes to a bar and orders clean fluoride water from a tap? Nobody. Sorry Africa, but fresh piped water is so 1960s. What people want is someone who has gossip, a catch up, a friend you haven’t seen in quite some time. a pint of mixed berry Kopparberg with loads of crushed ice please :)

I think it’s why relationships fail. Like I am on MSN somewhat constantly, and same with Skype. I can’t remember my PIN code for my phone, because I’ve never needed it, and I got a new SIM card recently (Americans, this doesn’t apply to you, and your UMTS system). Thing is though, that nobody seems to contact me, with a fistful of exceptions. If I was online once a week, would I be flooded with conversation as soon as I sign in?

We’ll see. We will see.

PORN!

Hey gays! and the lady that writes storm in a teacup with sugar! Bet the title caught your eye ;)

I’m not going to lie and pretend that I’ve been super busy. because I haven’t, life hasn’t accelerated. I’m still in college, doing projects, going out on occasion!

So what’s new? Well, I’ve got a new squeeze, and it’s long distance. Always a catch, right? I have a thing for him (admitted). He has a thing for me (admitted), so what can go wrong? not much, we just have to play the waiting game, it seems.

A good friend of mine brought up something with actually left a deeper impact on me than he thinks. Well he left two, one of which was envy over a tattoo I now want to get (I’m looking at you, Rick). The real thing is that, he, and other are saying that now I’m only spending time with my gays. which is true, admittedly. And I do feel, selfish? guilty? I don’t know how I feel, but it makes me uncomfortable to think about.

But then, I don’t go out much anyway, and when I do, I’m usually very bored. their all off on the hunt for genitals wot they don’t have, and I’m left observing like an amateur behavioural analyst. The straight girls dance in circles around their bags, and collective judge a single male, and who most suits said boy. Boy is usually oblivious, by trying to look cool, and stands at the edge of the dancefloor, not making eye contact with girls until they’ve walked past.

And it’s so not my scene. I do love my friends, but I just wish I was better and juggling situations.

I’m going to cover my good friend Jacks latest post which is linked here. I have absolutely no idea how to comfort him. Like what do I say to that? I feel like I’ve let him down, and I’m sort of embarrassed by myself, to be honest. It’s a wait and see, situation, it appears. Totally over my head. I do know how powerful mushrooms are. They are an ultimate high, and literally have you smiling for like a week afterwards, when you think back to your trip, so maybe it works the opposite way? Like if you’ve had a shit trip, you’ll feel shit for a week? Here’s for hoping. Don’t feel down and out, buddy.

 

I’m pretty sure I’ve lost most of my readers. I never post any more, and there’s no reason  behind it. But oh kids! Have ye heard Lady Gaga’s new album? It’s a bit bleh, to be honest, only one real floorfiller on it.

Humped ’n’ Dumped

Right, so we all know the rule, right?

 

well maybe not. Maybe it’s an irish gay scene rule:

meet a guy in a bar, fuck him once and you may never see him again unless a fuckbuddy situation is pre-arranged.

No ‘hello’ on the street, nothing.

 

and it’s a shit rule, for you’re average slut. What;s he supposed to do like?

Once he’s fucked pretty much every beautiful man in Dublin, what’s he going to do?

Be alone forever?

 

So glad I haven’t fucked them all yet :)

Quoted

“Below you see a list of eight statements about me: six are true and two are false. Can you identify the false ones?”

-Jackdaw

 

I did 7, and 2 are false!

 

So here goes nothing:

1.  I have one lazy eye which points away from my nose when I’m looking straight forward. I wear sunglasses a lot to hide it, and try keep my eyes moving when I can.

 

2. I once fell though a ceiling down at scouts, and was told “ah, you’ll be fine”. I had a fractured elbow which went undiagnosed for 2 weeks.

 

3. I’m left handed and am fiercely proud of it, because I’m not like a common right hander!

 

4. My mother dropped me on my head during World cup Italia 90, when Packie Bonner saved the goal against Romania.

 

5. I’m trained to administer 1st aid to the Irish & International standard, but have never needed to use the skill. I’ve known it since I was about sixteen.

 

6. I’m so afraid of becoming an alcoholic, that every time I get drunk, I have an awful vision of myself as an alcoholic, and it scares the shite out of me.

 

7. When I was young, the family was very poor. like my dad was earning less than the equlilvant of €200 ($350) a week, and for about a year, it was looking like we’d have to live with my grandmother. things have turned around now, mind you.