Accommodation

I suppose I haven’t mentioned this before but I’m actually rather fond of hotels. I find them to be exciting little get-aways from the real world. Staying in a hotel, and whatever occasion comes with it, I liken to some kind of escapist fantasy, everything simple stops for a little while and the only things which matter are relaxation, pampering and, hopefully, entertainment.

I tell you this because it emphasises just how bloody disappointed I am now. This place is a fucking mess. Now unfortunately because of various scheduling issues I’m going to be alone in this festering hell-hole for about 6 hours before I can meet with any of my family, not that I’m particularly keen to do that to begin with. Hang on, no, I say ‘alone’, but that’s before I met the huge fuck-off spider living under the bathroom sink.

I’ve named her ‘Charlotte’. Maybe we can share a romantic candlelit fucking dinner tonight.

Or last night, or indeed two nights ago as the case may be by the time I get to post this. Foolishly I had hoped to be able to make use of the Wireless internet that they claim to provide, so I brought my laptop, which I affectionately refer to as ‘The Magic Shitbox’, because it’s a fucking miracle that it even still runs, seriously this piece of shit predates the Cambrian extinction event, I miss my desktop already. Anyway, so I ask for the wireless password and the fuckers charge me £10 for the privaledge. Ten fucking quid? I could buy a month of internet at home for that, but hey, I’m desperate and I have nothing the fuck else to do, so £10 for 6 hours of my life seems like a good idea, right?

Wrong. Fucker won’t connect, and though I loathe the shitbox with every fibre of my being I know that it can’t be responsible because its wireless card is relatively recent, dinosaurs didn’t have widely available Wi-Fi. Good job I have plenty of techno-wizardry up my sleeve, because it takes me an hour of fiddling about with different protocols before I can get it to function, god help any poor, gullible sap with less expertise than me.

Lucky me, however, because it turns out that not only is it borked as hell but it’s also only barely bordering on functional. I try to check my emails, I try to check forums... If I sit F5ing a connection error for 20 minutes the stars align JUST SO and for a brief few moments everything loads, waiting for the next syzygy to occur before it can happen again. Joy of joys.

It’s about this time that I start to hear a constant dripping noise from the bathroom, and Charlotte wasn’t responsible, she has a pathological fear of falling into basins. No, it’s just the shower which has curiously only started dripping an hour after I enter the room. Naturally I’m all up in there being “Imma save water and shit” and foolishly attempt to turn it off, which as I’m sure you can imagine already could only have ended with me turning the dial the wrong way and getting drenched before I can make it stop.

Thankfully I’m so pissed off by this point that the water boils away the moment it touches my skin. Le sigh. I wish I could say I brought it on myself, I wish I could say “you get what you pay for” and brush it off as cheap hotels being shit, but cheap it most certainly is not, the three day stay is setting me back a good week’s wages, and that’s not even including all the crap I’ve had to spend money on for this fiasco of a wedding. Frankly I’m not really at a good point in my life with all manner of shit that has happened to me within the last month or so, so these bloody family obligations are really starting to fracture my own security.

And will the ungrateful bastards care? Will they fuck, only my absence would be noticed, my presence itself is irrelevant.

I despise people.

I-fucking-don't

So tomorrow I’m going to be away for three days in order to spend time with my family for my sister’s wedding.

God damn that pisses me off.

Fair enough a wedding is an important event, but three days of MY fucking life important? I think not. I’ve been to plenty of weddings before and the ceremony only takes a couple of hours. Throw in a reception later in the day and you’re looking at a whole day’s commitment really. That’d be acceptable.

But no, this wedding has to be THREE DAYS. Do I really need to attend some shitty rehearsal the day before? I know how to sit the fuck down and watch, it’s not difficult! But apparently my family wants me there, apparently my sister's wedding is supposed to matter to me, so away I go for the sake of someone I know little about and see maybe twice a year. And of course she wants to meet “close family” the day afterwards in order to go out for a meal later on in celebration. Celebration my arse, do you think I’m going to be having fun in a room filled with the multiple families of her groom that I barely know? Hardly, it’s going to be tedium itself.

Why do people do this? Why do they feel the need to snatch away so much of other people’s precious little time? It couldn’t just been one day in which case I could bite the bullet, drive up, not drink too much, and the drive back at the end of the night. It could have saved me TWO DAYS. Two days which I am now doomed to waste, all for the sake of a two-three hour event on each one.

The alternative would be to simply not go, but that wouldn’t work out well for me either. I don’t want dozens of people calling me up angrily and ostracising me because of their self-righteous beliefs that I OWE them something. In plenty of ways that’s worse than putting on a fake smile, pretending I give a shit, taking a coat hanger and aborting three days of my existence.

So, what? I get to spend all of two days in a shitty hotel which doesn’t even have internet because I’m not going to splash out on one of the nicer ones which cost inordinate amounts of money? I get forced into an uncomfortable situation with family members that I deliberately avoid because we don’t get on?

Thanks, bitch, enjoy your fucking wedding, because I sure as hell won’t.

Pissed Off! Episode One: A New Rage

Today on our first exciting episode of things pissing me off:

People who romanticise romance!

Le sigh. Firstly this isn’t an attack on romance itself, balls no; I can’t get enough of that shit. No, no... This particular rant is directed to all of the people in the world who are in love with the idea of being in love.

There is an acquaintance of mine who is rather guilty of this. He spent two years of his damn life in a relationship with the most abusive bitch you can ever imagine, excluding yours truly, who made his life hell every damn day and tore him away from all of his friends and all of his family and stuffed him in a figurative box in her room like a puppet dancing on her strings.

We’re talking physical abuse, emotional vampirism, social bullying... Christ the bitch would regularly go through his precious fucking facebook account and if there was anything she remotely didn’t like the look of she would change his passwords. Hang on a second, why the fuck would she have your passwords in the first place? When someone says “Hey, we’re not going to work out as a couple unless you give me access to every little slice of privacy you’ve ever had” that’s when you get the fuck out.

Now I’ve known this guy for over a decade now and he’s not the masochistic type, so he wasn’t taking the abuse because he enjoyed it, no. He was suffering for it, pure and simple, and the reason why was obvious to everyone who knew him. He was so smitten with the idea of simply being in a relationship that the very idea of NOT sticking with the cow would utterly shatter every shred of self confidence he had.

Why? What’s the big deal, people? Being a couple is nice and all, but being single isn’t so fucking atrocious that being someone’s abused little bitch and going through hell for it is a better alternative. I’ve been single for a month now coming out of a four-year long relationship and I’m enjoying it like nothing else. Eventually I’ll want to find a pretty thing with an ego as big as mine to settle down with but for the moment, fuck it, I’m going to stay up late, get smashed and do whatever the hell I want after work. Only when a relationship is trading UP is it worthwhile.

So this guy gets this shit every day for two years, he’s suffering, he’s in pain and he just WON’T let go despite the pleas of his friends and family. You know what makes him finally give in? Another girl comes and shakes her arse in front of him a few times and SUDDENLY when he has a new prospect available immediately he drops the bitch. What. The. Hell? He only has the balls to stand up for himself when there’s his next future ex around to catch him? That’s fucked up. Why be strung along all that time and lose two years of your life just because you’re too much of a pussy to sleep alone for a few damn weeks and look for someone better?

Oh ho, but the story doesn’t end there. So a week after he drops bitch#1 I hear him on the phone to his new fling, who is admittedly a nice girl, I like her. Can you guess what I hear?

“Oh I love you so much, you’re the only one who understands me.”

“You’re the only person I can be myself around; I’m so in love with you”

“I’ve never felt this way before.”

Jesus tittyfucking Christ, it was the most pathetic display of arse-licking I’ve ever borne witness to.

PROTIP: You are not in love with someone you only met seven days previously. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Personally I can’t imagine anything LESS appealing than someone who can immediately decide that you’re the person they want to spend the rest of their life with. If you can come to a decision that fucking quickly you obviously weren’t giving it enough thought. Why must every relationship for some people be THE relationship? What is so terrifying about the fact that most of them fail?

If your time as a single individual is so dull and miserable that being alone is torture you should probably revaluate what you’re doing with your life. You cannot solve all your problems with a warm bed.

Ugh. Seriously, why the fuck do some people allow their lives to be dominated by single ideas so easily? Fatal flaw, anyone?

Rage over.

Get'n blogged

Oh you motherfuckers are going to get it now.

You're going to get blogged. I'm going to blog you so hard that your children's facebook profiles will feel it.

We're talking grade-A, unrestrained clusterblog, words shat straight out of my mouth and onto your face right through your screen.

Is your body ready?