Slightly corny, this

Someone: “You know this guy (insert name of fling), he… er… doesn’t make any sound when he, you know, comes.”
Me: “Wow. He’s like Jesus then.”
Someone: “Huh?”
Me: “You know, he comes like a thief in the night.” (Guffaws)
Someone: *dies*

Misleading Winning Eleven Conversation

Adrian: “Should go in further.”
Dave (defensively): “But you’re coming already!”

P.S.: Winning Eleven is a football game on the Playstation.

What’s this?

I have just returned from my first run since the half-marathon in December. And despite puffing a little too loudly and generally maintaining the pace of a snail, that was dead, I feel oddly fulfilled. Clearly, something is wrong with me. Fulfilment isn’t an emotion I am prone to feeling even in the best of times. Maybe it’s because I made some discoveries along the way. Such as the fact that my shoes, having not been touched in four months, now stink so much that I imagine they would force even God to pinch his nose. Of course, this is nonsense. God doesn’t exist which means that there isn’t a divine nose to hold in the first place.

More importantly, somewhere into the second kilometre, I stumbled upon the notion that I really should start blogging again. You might have noticed that, other than the two facetious non-posts in January, the entries stopped in September. Amidst the passing addictions to Scrabulous, then Noggin’, then Prolific on Facebook, there was something else keeping me from boring the unfortunate readers of this blog.

It’s hard to explain but I go through periods in my life where I feel overwhelmed by cynicism and the meaninglessness of it all. (To religionists: no, this doesn’t mean I need to go to church or start kneeling at regular intervals in the direction of Mecca). This is generally followed by a lackadaisical attitude to life and a tendency to shun people. To everyone who might have suffered from my entirely manly mood swings, too bad for you.

But anyway, over the past few weeks, I have begun to see the light again. Writing for The Living Room has helped a lot though you wouldn’t know it from the way I moan endlessly about research and deadlines. It’s something which I find much more rewarding than writing ads. And besides, if nothing else, it’s helping me build up a portfolio of written work which I hope will get me into an editorial career sooner rather than later. I wonder if Playeur pays well.

There are, of course, other motivations for pulling myself out of this rut but I shan’t go into them here. There’s no point in boring all of you even more.