I know you can make it good*

I've given up so much stuff over the years. Giving up, it's one of my regular gigs. Like that marathon The Rider rip off below. Just past half way and then fuck this. Fuck this very much. There, that's that. My would be novel, shivering in shorts and singlet on the side of a Crumlin road. Let's move on.

To more giving up. All the giving up that I do. All the biggies. Smoking, drinking, meat. Meat, of course. All the animals and their secretions. You missed my veganniversary, you thoughtless fucks. Though who knows, we may meet over meat again.**  But that's your exception.  Cause here's the scoop folks. I'm after giving up giving up the rest.

Behold my glass of white wine! Gaze upon yesterday's tense but frivolous fag! See my blog! That, you understand, was the other non sacrificial sacrifice. All that writing. I gave up, but now I want back in. I want back in so bad. Tbh (this is how I talk now, Jsyk), I think it might have something to do wth the dog***. Walking around the ugly soiled nappy strewn field, I find myself having an awful lot of dumb opinions that absolutely will not fit within the boundaries of any thread, be it short, long or even imperial. There is only one format that allows me to lay bare my cavernous soul and you're looking right at it folks.

And my soulful truth: I am old now. I have one daughter doing her leaving. Another about to enter secondary school. I have a dog a cat a car a common law wife. But, or possibly so, I feel scared and angry and confused and often isolated. Even alone. I felt like this before. So I wrote it down in ways that amused me. and in writing I realised I was right to feel scared and angry and confused, but almost certainly wrong to feel alone. Even isolated.

Time for another crack at it.


*What is it with this line? It's a bad line. It's barely a sentence. It's "I know you can make it" plus a word. But, ugh, how I love it.

**This is not a good line. This is not a so bad it's good line. Jesus. Am I going to leave that up for anybody, even the "Beko WM5100W won't drain" googlers to read and sigh and shake their heads at? At the hackneyed awfulness? Well, yeah. I'm saying we have a lot to discuss on that eating animals deal you guys all have and I'm saying it both obviously and pretentiously. Fuck you, Beko man.

***Not unrelated to the oncoming vegan righteousness assault. We got a dog, a dog got us. Name of Mo. Which does sound an awful lot like "No!" leading to lots of hilarious material already run through by Steven Wright and his canine companion "Stay". This may also be a contributory factor in his eyes being too close together, giving him the look of a Collie that banjo duels.