Don’t let the title fool you, this won’t be a self pitying, self indulgent gospel to the darkness of my own being… No more than usual, anyway. The title actually refers to this blog, which has of late been hugely neglected for the simple reason I can’t really think of anything to write about on it. I guess this post is gonna be a sort of stream-of-conciousness thing, with all of the bits where I think about violent masturbation and child murder redacted, of course.
Moving swiftly on, it’s a Bank Holiday Monday today, which leads us to the situation I’m currently in - Having something to do on it (rehearsals for an Edinburgh play SHAMELESSPLUGGING). Let me tell you, Bank Holidays are instantly more irritating when you actually have to get showered, get dressed and leave the house because EVERYONE ELSE IS AT HOME. Shops are closed, eateries are closed, banks are closed (makes sense, really), it’s like some sort of apocalypse scenario where everyone is too hungover to eat your brains. To be fair, I’m overblowing the situation somewhat, and I’m pretty sure I can get a Greggs on the way in to Uni, who manage their staff and shops with a true sense of Yorkshirian pride/slavedriving, so it’s all good.
Wow, looking back on that, I sure do talk a lot of shit, don’t I?
Til next time,
- Tom x