Wednesday, 15 August 2012

25th Birthday

Last year I wrote a blog on my 24th birthday which was a bitterly indulgent summary of that year just passed. It was a banal shopping list of self-pity, narcissism, and derivative writing. Otherwise known as a Rihanna song.


However, the only way in which I celebrate my birthday is by writing something on the occasion. The idea is to build a portfolio to gaze back upon when I’m living as a hermit beneath the floorboards of my ex-wife’s shed against her knowledge.

Me on my 26th birthday

So, to my 25th year.

In my final class before I gave up/was sort of fired from lecturing, I discovered that the lone gay gentleman I taught had publicly described me as ‘buff and relatively attractive.’ My initial pride was soon tarnished by the realisation of how severely the ‘relatively’ diminishes the comment. Anyone is relatively attractive, relative to a steaming heap of quivering dog viscera.

After having made it the principle target of my derision in this very blog, I embraced hypocrisy and tried online dating. I secured a number of dates, almost all of which went badly. I was violently sick in the middle of one, managed to convince the girl during another that I was homosexual, and finally convinced another girl that I was a different person entirely. Worryingly, it’s this date that went best. Though I should report that my latest date went rather well.

I had sex 0 times.

I published 2 novels on Amazon Kindle. To date sales figures are about equal to any Girls Aloud solo album not released by Cheryl Cole. Here are some shamelessly placed links. BUY MY BOOKS. IT’S MY BIRTHDAY.

Available now. BUY BUY BUY.

My deeply cerebral goal of being able to make my pecs dance has nearly been reached. Though at present it’s more of an exhausted arthritic shuffle than a dance.

I’m still going to the gym 3-4 times a week. Secretly I hope random people on the street will go out of their way to comment on my guns. No one has.

After a string of part-time positions, I’ve spent the last 5 months working full time. This means an hour morning and evening of being dry-humped by overweight businessmen on the London Underground. I’m glad of the physical contact.

I had forgotten how much working full-time encroaches upon free time for masturbation. Fortunately the job is only temporary. I intend to test the limits of self-inflicted dehydration.

I started making stop motion videos for this job. Despite having no knowledge or experience, they come out pretty well. Oh look, here’s one now!

Biggest achievement of the year: filling a Gourmet Burger Kitchen loyalty card and claiming a free burger.
Variety: Chicken with barbeque relish.


  1. I sincerely hope this is merely your life through negative glasses...
    I hope you have a lovely birthday and that something positively surprising will come your way.

  2. Never mind - it does get better. Just wait till you're 80 and have arthritis to moan about!

    1. Oh man, I will be /king/ of moaning about arthritis!

    2. Hey, I've had arthritis to moan about since I was 14. Consider yourself lucky!

    3. In all seriousness, I do. My readers just expect moaning now!