I am going to jump off a 150ft bridge

In a few short weeks I am going to jump off of a 150 foot bridge in Vancouver.  

I need to think of something really good to shout (scream) as I fall.  

I was thinking of doing a Wall-E impression but I'm crap at it.  

Aside from that I am dry.  

Any ideas?

Mental Tourettes

Anybody else have mental tourretes?

I do.  Well at least my mother and some friends are convinced that I do.  

Does anybody else just see something in front of them and know, really know that you shouldn't do it no matter what?  See people with tourettes get that but they can't stop themselves from then doing what it is they think.  I just about manage to hold it in, but some of my thoughts get a little bit mean.  

Last time I was in London with my friends we walked across a bridge and in my naivety of thinking it was normal to have these thoughts, I asked them if they ever got the urge to just pick a random person on the other side of the bridge and push them in.  They refused to walk near me til we were on the other side.

Other (restrained) outbursts include fighting the urge to:

-make loud and inappropriate noises in a full cinema 

-slap random strangers

-steal peoples drinks and / or chairs

-verbally abuse the people on the other end of intercoms

I personally get a lot more of this than is apparently normal.  I'm also needlessly mean about people I don't know.  The first thing I do upon sight is to judge someone and then form their entire life in my own head around that.  

So quite frankly, I'm a bit of a cunt.  

Anybody else have internal tourettes or is it just me?  

I can't be the only person that sees something, thinks the wrong thing, doesn't act on it, but then sits laughing to themselves looking like a mad man.  

Can I?

Television stole my emotions

I’ve been watching an awful lot of TV recently.  Many of you might scoff at this and think ‘well I bet I’ve watched more TV than he has!’.  Some of you might be right but I’d bet that I’ve watched more than most of you. 

 

In the last 6-8 weeks (I’m guestimating here cause I don’t really remember when I started but I know it was  no more than 2 months ago), I have watched:  Grey’s Anatomy seasons 2-5, The Wire seasons 1-3, Life season 1, Dirty Sexy Money season 1, Dexter season 3, Flight of the Conchords season 2 and I am in the process of continuing to watch The Wire, True Blood and House whilst about to start Battlestar Galactica  and The Sopranos.  I work at a Blockbuster and I have been through the boxset section and I have seen pretty much everything in there now. 

 

I watch what some might call an abnormal amount of Television and I always used to be more into film.  Not that that has changed, I still love film, but I think the emotional engagement that comes with a prolonged TV show is so much better than that which is provided by a film.  Sure the film might be good, it may even be great but two hours with these characters just isn’t enough.  I lament the loss of Steve Zissou at the end of The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.  The ending always makes my eyes water a little bit (I’ll be clear here and say that I don’t cry, my eyes water, that is all).  But television utterly eclipses that which film creates.  When you are given 12 one hour episodes, that’s 12 hours of time you spend getting to know those characters, starting to care for them.  Now that show you’re watching runs for 5 seasons and all of a sudden that’s a sizable chunk of your life that’s been invested in these people.  My personal favourite show is Six Feet Under.  Most might think that it’s too morbid to watch but they clearly haven’t ever given it a fair chance. 

 

There are 63 episodes of Six Feet Under – each one running at around 48-55 minutes.  Add that all up and that’s a large part of your life gone watching other people – who aren’t even real.  And yet at the end of season 5, what I consider to be the best ending of any show to date, I cried like a bitch.  People usually look at me funny when I say things like that, my dad especially (“MEN DON’T CRY”).  He’s right, we don’t, we have man-tears instead.  Who needs to ‘cry’ when we have those?  If anybody asks, we have something in our eyes ok?  Damn straight, now go make me a sandwich. 

It’s pathetic but I connect more with television than I ever have with film.  I can sit in a cinema full of people crying at something on screen and not only will I not feel like crying, I’ll fight the urge to laugh.  I do have an uncanny ability to laugh at inappropriate moments though.  I’m like that with most films, it has to be pretty special to get an emotion out of me.  But TV barely has to try, I’ve only got to know someone on screen for more than two episodes and their lives mean as much to me as real people.  Sad. 

 

I woke up this morning to find a note in the kitchen telling me that my fish has died.  I have had him for about 5 or 6 years.  His name was Roger Red-hat.  He had a little red thing on his head.  Did I shed a man-tear for him?  No.  But I’ll happily shed one for an imaginary person on TV.  What the fuck is wrong with me?  Have I been completely indoctrinated by television so that my emotions are controlled by it?  Perhaps not quite yet, but it won’t be long…

 

 

I still haven’t buried Roger yet.  

Free Hug Issue 1 - July 09

This is the first issue of Free Hug, a free online zine designed to bring just the smallest smile to your face.  

In future, these will be available for download in pdf format as well as viewable online.   

It looks better printed I assure you.  

One of those days?

Have you ever had one of those moments where you think ‘oh, that’s a bit sad’ and it makes you feel miserable for the rest of the day?

 

I’m not talking about the kind of sadness that’s evoked by those adverts on TV where poor little Timmy’s walked into his dads fist, and they pretty much just try and make you cry so you’ll part with your money (fuck you Timmy, the RSPCA gets my money).  I’m talking about the kind of sadness that just makes you feel a little bit shitty because you become aware that your problems are nothing compared to others. 

 

I was a work a couple of weeks ago and I was messing around trying to balance about 50 Lucozade bottles in my arms – I failed – and this short (not being mean) plump, woman came in looking very shaken up, staring at the ground.  In a very quiet voice she told me to call the police.  She wasn’t wearing any shoes.  I shot up, sending Lucozade bottles in every direction, thinking that she had been attacked and was in trouble.  She then told me that she had just run away from a nearby mental institution and hadn’t bought shoes with her.  She wanted a ride back to the Hospital from the police. 

 

Of course, I obliged, I phoned the police and explained the situation and they assured me they’d send someone out very soon.  In the meantime I was stuck with her very low rambling.  She was talking to me at some kind of frequency that dogs might struggle with but I continued to try and help her and do my work.  She stood over the counter from me and told me repeatedly that she wasn’t “loopy”, she was just depressed after her fiancé died.  My heart sank when she said that.  Who can stand the thought of losing a loved one like that?  I certainly can’t.  I looked over at her, she was making eye contact with her shoes and mumbling again.  I didn’t know what to do or say so I just stayed still.  I noticed a little ring on one of her fingers too.  It’s one of those ones they have that say “mum” across the top.  And there it was, that ‘oh fuck that’s sad’ moment.  So that was it, I was destined to feel bad for this poor broken down woman the rest of the day.  Come to think of it I still feel bad for her now.

 

I of course struck her with a 2 liter bottle of Coke and proceeded to steal the ring.  It was shiny after all.