Alright geezers, it’s been a while I know…a while I say,
possibly a year, has it been a year? I don’t know... time is but dust drifting
away in the hour glass, what’s an hour glass you say? Well it’s some kind of
glass structure that contains sand and indicates the passing of time through
the process of the sand…well you know fuck it…where was I? Yeh it’s been a long
time and like an old lover I’m back, filling your head with false promises and
ushering you to lick home made treacle from my fingers. Can one make treacle or
is it found? Do you know what treacle is? It exists, it definitely does and of
that I can assure you.
So where have I been? What has been so important that I
can’t weave my weekly web of bullshit for you faceless nobodies? What indeed.
Well I got a job so now instead of writing blogs for the unemployed and chronic
masturbators I now write blogs for the elderly about how cuddly and cosy their new heatable cushions can be. Wuvvly duvvly. So now I’m completely without
testicles and work around 80 hours a week for my minimum wage pennies rather
that hassling the good people at Burnley Job centre for my weekly drippings and
gruel. It’s hard to imagine one has less dignity being employed than one did on
the dole but you know I tell you, it’s a tough transition…much like making love
to Chris Moyles or James Corden…they are most definitely two different entities
but after waking up next to both of them in the morning you still find yourself
filled with the same feeling of nausea and self loathing, no matter what the
seedy profit.
I find the best way to stay employed when one is a man of
the Lukat’s strong viewpoints is to tone things down a little…and by tone
things down I mean refuse to acknowledge that you have a personality or
interests of any kind. That’s right…do I care for sport? Fuck no. Do I enjoy
music? Nope never fucking heard of it. Women? I wouldn’t know I’m asexual.
That’s right I have no opinions of any kind and am about as useful to have a
conversation with as an inanimate wax work of my own physical form, which is
yet to be produced but I have most certainly sent an envelope of nude
photographs smeared with soil addressed to ‘Missus Tussaud’ and I’m sure the
old hag is busy working on it right away. That’s ok though I don’t need a personality
in the real world as I can hide behind my laptop screen typing away angrily
with two fingers like the coward I am, acting the big man on the internet when
out on the street I’m NOWT…NOWTTTTTTT. Until someone is willing to pay me more
than minimum wage to be a bell end I suppose we’ll have to settle for things
the way we are.
Unlike Mark Wright who IS getting paid significantly more
than minimum wage to be the very bell end to which I referenced early in this
paragraph. Who is Mark Wright you say? Well I don’t have a fucking clue either
but he exists, oh he definitely exists, in human form, with his eyes and his
ears he is most definitely there, most likely hiding a festering foetus of
ignorant political views, generic racism and a smattering of homophobia within
him. Yes Mark has a new TV show ‘Mark Wrights Hollywood Nights’. Don’t worry I
haven’t watched it…but how Lukat…you naïve scum can you dare comment on Mark’s
quality work without having seen it? Why do you feel you can pass
judgement…fuck off…it’s shit…nerr nerr nerr he’s shit…dog shit…smelly dog
shit…ohhh woahhh…yeh so anyway I saw the advert which was enough, and from what
one can gather Mark Wright is heading to Hollywood to be a useless twat in a
different time zone…but he can’t bloody do it alone can he now? No he must be
escorted with his bland entourage of dough faced non entities to get the job
done. The job I assume is looking for some ‘fanny’ and making homophobic
comments whilst being attractive to women who have no self esteem. Not that I’m
jealous or anything. You know…when I’m hiding in the toilets before work while
a gentleman takes an overly audible and putrid shit next to me whilst I recite
the mantra ‘I want to die…I want to die’
…staring in to the abyss…and Mark Wright is getting paid more for one TV show
than I earn in a whole year…to go to
America and try and finger a few lasses on the dance floor…that doesn’t make me
bitter…because Mark Wright is better than me… a better thinker…a better man. He
has a charisma and charm that I can not contend with and he deserves his own TV
show with his despicable friends…the group of them combined worse than
Hitler…worse than several Hitler’s…no they deserve it as they are great men
with talents that I can only dream of one day gazing up towards…but the one
thing I do better…the one thing I have that just sets me apart from Mark…the
one thing that shines a little light on my drab life…the one thing…is that I am
not…. Mark Wright.
So anyway let’s make this short and sweet since it’s my comeback,
these tight hamstrings need to be stretched out, I’m still returning to match
fitness but rest assured that I will probably write another blog within the
next year as I am that committed. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll most likely just
go to bed now and curl up in a ball sobbing myself to sleep to the sound of my
alarm clock…ticking…ticking away till I have to get up again and face the world
with my beady hate filled eyes. Smell you later…LOSERS.
