And then nothing happened

One of the major problems with writing a blog when you have a chronic illness, is that you often have massive chunks of your life where nothing happens.

And worst still, is that you can't bring yourself to make shit up, because really your whole world has become a non-existent void. 

Sure you could attempt to educate and inform whatever passing inter-webber happens upon your page, to the daily slog of just being alive. But that is a big, and massively depressing, subject to tackle. 

Of course there are plenty of people who manage just that task, with better grace and far fewer swears than me. 

So if they can do it, why can't I?

Well you have to know one very important thing about me.

My brain is fuelled by boobs and sexually propositioning inanimate objects. Er i should say not in a weird "That guy's a pervert" kind of way, it's just how my brain gets it's giggles. 

Which means, sadly, if I'm not in the mood to make dick jokes or shamelessly flirt with a talking elevator, then my brain simply refuses to come up with anything else to say.

Over the last 2 years my health has been particularly shitty, and my brain fucked off and left me. I've been virtually housebound, my on line presence dwindled to nothingness and I became a non-person. 

Sure that's terrible and at least one person out there is going to feel bad for me, it's just the way my life has ended up. The worst part, the bit that sucks the most without a doubt, has been the lack adult humour. 

So for the love of Batman, will some-one tell me a boobie joke

To the dark side and back

I recently had an interesting experience with alcohol, and not the good kind of interesting. You see deep down, well not that deep down, I'm an arsehole. Add a shit load of mostly Tequila and I become a complete dick.

Overall I had a good time, and so did those around me, but i couldn't stop myself from being a dick. There was a guy there being a complete and utter sleaze, and I found myself planning his murder. While I'm sure most people have had similar fantasies, I was quietly collecting the items I would need...which needless to say wasn't good. Of course I didn't go through with my plans, even though he was giving a particularly hard time to someone i care a great deal about.

Then I did something a little stupid, which I'm quite ashamed of really. I hid a note professing my love for someone I really shouldn't. Regret set in and my Tequila fuelled mind wandered off to where it usually goes when I've drank too much. I've always had this fantasy of disappearing, of walking off into the night and never been seen again. No-one notices and the world is a better place.

The guilt of my previous thoughts and actions lead my imagination to assembling notes for all those I care about, planning my suicide and wondering if being the first martyred bomber against a terrorist would be a suitably ironic death.

At this point the really stupid part of my brain kicked in and I imagined all suicide bombers to be tanked on Mexico's finest, and if the U.N. would just go to war on Tequila then the world would be a happier place.

I guess we all have to take the consequences of our actions, have some self control and run when there's Tequila on offer

Out of gas

Don't you hate it when life stalls on you?

Both Almighty D and myself have been suffering worse health recently, which has put SurvivalBox on hold for the moment. I'm having trouble writing due to lack of motivation and my new paint shed hasn't built itself yet.

Life in general seems to be on hold. Nothing of interest, nothing of romance, nothing of anything really. Which sucks, but also leaves a lot of time to think.

Why is life so complicated? As civilisation progresses, we make things more and more ridiculous to keep track of. Sub-cultures pop up every day, fashions change, labels get re-labelled. Children lose their innocence younger, but grow up later. We watch faked reality tv shows and apparently everything is out to kill us.

And yet somehow we thrive. The human race takes it all in and asks "What's next?"

My life has stalled, stuck in bed alone feeling like crap yet again....but what's next?

Will I feel better tomorrow? Will they find a cure? Will I meet someone special? Am I actually going to be a success at anything I do? What will my next big adventure be?

I don't know about you, but I can't wait to find out.

Two Idiots and the Internet part 2

Update

I've set up the blog side of the project

http://survivalbox.blogspot.co.uk/

which is currently named In Case of Emergency.

As soon as we've finished the first vid I will be setting up a YouTube channel and linking both here and there.

We are also working on a product line which will be on a made to order system to start with, and probably as daft as the vids.

More information on both closer to time of release.

Two idiots and the internet

So quite a long time ago, Almighty D and myself kicked around an idea. For an even longer time people have been almost literally pissing themselves laughing at our rants and idiotic conversations, and The Boy wanted a recording to prove to his friends just how daft we are.

Now it should be said that we didn't actually know we were being funny, quite often we were serious indeed.

So anyway, Almighty D looked at his camcorder, looked at me, then at the camcorder, back to me and said "Did you just fart?"

After a lengthy conversation about the intricacies of farting, we had an idea.

We were going to do a vlog/web series of our rants and debates. We'd invite a random person to each episode and provide a topic. Then we'd ignore the topic and talk bollocks for ten minutes or so.

We'll probably start with a few stories of our past. Usually starting with "This one time Almighty D and I.." and ending with something on fire.

So check back soon and we'll have a YouTube channel up and running as well as blog somewhere on the interwebs.

When gummy bears attack!

Now I'm sure most people have had the odd close call with death, I know i certainly have. Usually we pay no lasting attention to the bus that almost hit us, the fall from the tree that could have gone badly wrong but didn't.

In my life I have fallen from trees, been attacked by birds and had to leap from the roof I happened to be standing on at the time. Almighty D has contrived to blow me up in several interesting ways with fireworks and American muscle cars and many other near misses. Today, however, Death himself looked me square in the eyes and just took the piss. Most people, if given the choice, would opt for a heroic death. Hypothermia on top of Everest, fighting terrorists, pushing a child out of the way of a speeding car or ever saving kittens from a malicious ball of wool.

Being a bit of a romantic, I would happily settle for any of the above......but choking on a fucking gummy bear is just plain pathetic.

It was my own fault really, it was Raspberry flavour and I know the evil ways of Raspberry. I should have rejected the temptations of it's sumptuous red colour. I should have remembered that it is the darkness to Strawberry's light. But no. Like all children everywhere and disgusting objects, I popped it in my mouth and hoped for the best.

Will I ever learn?

Eventually I managed to cough up the confectionery assassin and gasped the air like my life depended on it, which as it turns out it did. Finally able to breath again, I looked down at the half chewed gummy bastard. He looked up at me with his one remaining eye and a smirk on his gummy face which said "You're my bitch and you know it."

Moral of the story: If something wants to kill you, don't put it in your mouth.

Batshit crazy

I think the headline says it all.
Some poor kid gets in a bad situation and gets shot by the police, next thing chaos. The streets of London, Birmingham and Manchester are now on fire and looters are everywhere.

What I want to know is how does a call for justice turn into looting and riots? Do these people honestly think that acting like this helps? Or are they just scum looking for a fight regardless of the reason?

I strongly suspect it's the latter, especially considering the looting started before the rioting.

If this is the way the world is going, then injury compensation adverts are going to very different in the near future.

Had a trip or fall? Been in an accident that wasn't your fault? looking for compensation you rightly deserve? Then set your neighbours car on fire and go on a shoplifting spree.

Seriously, what the fuck? These people obviously can't be trusted in modern society. Are they such lemmings that one person happened to be stealing something at a stressful time and they couldn't help but join in?

In my humble opinion, when all this lunacy calms down and most of them have been caught, they should be court ordered to wear adult nappies and a jacket which says "Fuck-tard" on the back.

When you look at all the good in the world, you see how much life is worth living. Then you realize all the good is a grain of sand to the planet sized bad in the world and you start thinking "Roll on the Apocalypse".

While reading the news reports, and writing this, I had an interesting idea. We should take the worst criminals (rapists and murderers etc) as well as continuous repeat offenders, and give them all lobotomies. Then make them clean streets or whatever. We're always hearing about prisoner rights, which I find a bit odd. I've always had, and always will have, the belief that if you choose to break the law then you're choosing to give up any and all rights. Make prison a punishment like it should be. Make them shit in a bucket, force them to work and force them to watch the tellitubbies if that's what it takes.

Show me the money

So lets sum up the state of the world finances at the moment.
We're boned.

Greece is as good as bankrupt, shortly followed by the Republic of Ireland. The UK's debt is so huge they're having to invent new words to describe it. The USA isn't doing so well either. Japan at least has a reason for being strapped for cash, earthquakes are expensive messes to clean up.

Ireland owes billions to the UK. The UK owes billions to the USA and God only knows who they owe money to. Greece just owes money to everyone. So where exactly did all the worlds money go?

I have a few theories.
First is that several countries have been quietly printing extra bank notes to patch the financial hole. This of course would normally lead to the currency being slightly devalued, unless the government in question simply didn't tell anyone. Which is international monetary fraud.

Secondly it's possible that certain third world countries, who have been begging for aid for the last 30 something years, have simply been stockpiling wealth. This theory would mean that the starving millions in Africa are faking it.

Third on the list are celebrities. It's no secret that they are overpaid, but think about this. If Paul McCartney, Tom Cruise, Bill Gates etc gave up HALF their wealth then there would be no world debt. Paul McCartney would save the world and still be a billionaire.

The fourth theory is simple. Aliens did it.

Realistically speaking, the real reason is probably a combination of the first three, though never rule out aliens. EVER.

As the saying goes "Money makes the world go round", so maybe global finance will completely collapse and the world will indeed end in 2012. Who-ever's to blame, rich people, poor people, stupid people or fucking bankers, we can at least laugh at them when their billions are only good for toilet paper.

What to do?

Man I have a huge to-do list, and it gets bigger every day.

Now I have some fairly reasonable excuses for not doing a few of the listed chores, but my main problem is my own mind.

Of the many things I should be doing, the main one I really ought to be cracking on with is a one act play I'm supposed to be writing.

Well to be exact, I've already written it. In my head. The problem is my imagination. Every time I sit down to type, my imagination fucks off and does it's own thing. Which is a bit of a pain in the bum. So instead of typing out a play that I'm supposed to be working on, my imagination distracts me with a whole new idea. Not helpful at all.

You could say it's a disability. Hyper-active imagination syndrome. I strongly suspect many people, who struggle to finish things, also suffer from this disorder. It's not a lack of skill or motivation, our minds simply jump from one idea to another until we can't focus on the job at hand.

For example, right now I should be sleeping, but I started thinking about the play. Then out of no-where my imagination pops up and says

"I've got a really cool idea for a one man show", which i have to admit was a really cool idea indeed. Then i couldn't concentrate on the play and got completely sidetracked by an unwelcome but really cool idea. Next I made a rookie mistake. I turned to the Internet to do some light research for "project really cool idea". Giving it a name like that should have set of alarm bells and the safest thing to do would be switch off the computer and go to sleep, but noooooo.

Anyone who has ever used the Internet knows, that when you put in a word or phrase into a search engine, you get a whole bunch of results that have absolutely nothing to do with the original word or phrase. Somehow I was still surprised, and more than a little curious, when I typed in "Graffiti history" and came across a page containing a recipe for french toast.

A normal, run of the mill, over-active imagination would have paused........said

"Huh? Weird." wondered what possible link graffiti and french toast had, and gone back to the research.

Hyper-active imaginations are like Duracell bunnies, they just keep going and going.

I spent the next 20 minutes constructing the perfect french toast sandwich in my mind and decided I had to have one. After writing, what is probably, a really bad blog post about my evening. I now can't remember what I was going to write down for the play, Project really cool idea is now on my to-do list and I'm really quite hungry.

Moral of the story?

Everything can be solved with french toast.

Ying and Yang

I had a thought yesterday.

According to Newton every action has an equal and opposite reaction. I wonder if this applies to more than physics. What I'm getting at is the idea of perfect opposites.

Yes is the perfect opposite of No.

Day is the perfect opposite of Night.

You get the idea. However when we come to more complex objects and ideas things get...well complicated. What's the perfect opposite of a hammer? The easy answer would be a nail, but it's not that easy. Both hammers and nails are used to make things, and so cannot be perfect opposites.

Then I thought about words. Words are simple.

Yes/No

Right/Wrong

But what about a whole sentence, or an Idiom?

One immediately jumped into my mind.

The glass is half full/The glass is half empty

Simply by changing one word you get a change from optimist to pessimist. A perfect opposite. It didn't feel right though. Only one word was changed, and changed into it's own perfect opposite. It seemed like cheating.

OK so next step is to take a saying, make it's exact opposite and use a whole bunch of different words. To answer the unspoken question some of you may have swishing around in your head, yes I was bored.....very bored. Surprisingly though it was mildly entertaining and produced a few giggles.

If you have nothing better to do, I highly recommend doing some yourself. Below are a few I came up with, just to give you an idea of how it works. Once you've got the hang of it, challenge a friend and see who comes up with the best one (bonus points for doing actions and making said friend snort while laughing)

"Look before you leap."

has the perfect opposite of

"Fuck it! Weeeeeeeeeeee!"

"The grass is always greener on the other side."

is the exact opposite of

"The secret to a nice garden is to paint your lawn twice a week."

"Aim for the moon, and even if you miss, you'll land among the stars."

is the flip side of

"Aim for the balls, you'll get whatever you want then."

OK so that last one was stretching it a bit, but fuck it. My game my rules.

I'm finding it hard to stay mildly enthusiastic about anything these days. I can't be arsed with social networking sites, games, TV, movies or even breathing any more. I've talked about depression before, and I know that's all it is....but it feels different. I feel a level of apathy towards everything that feels sensible, logical even.

The country is going down the pan, and we send billions out to other countries only for another disaster to happen. Hospitals can't afford staff or medication. Schools can't afford teachers, and I can't afford fuel to get anywhere to cheer myself up...including the doctors. So what's the fucking point?

I've been fighting an enormous urge to blow every penny I have and just fuck off into the sunset, never to be heard of again. We delude ourselves about life and freedom. How many of us can truly do what we want when we want? Ever missed a party because you had work the next morning? Can't sod off for the weekend because there's no-one to walk the dog? Sorry can't go to that festival, have to pay the mortgage?

In a way it makes sense that we romanticise cowboys, Victorian explorers, Alexander Supertramp and Dr Geebers (if you've never heard of the last two I strongly suggest looking them up). They had adventures and weren't tied down by Ikea and managers. They had the freedom that is yearned for in all our psyches.

Maybe that's what's really wrong with me. I'm a caged animal. A dolphin in a fish tank. I need some space to run around and frolic for a while, perhaps we all do. So I guess it comes down to blowing my brains out or breaking out of my rusty cage. I know what sounds more fun. Somewhere out there is a beach, and a sunrise, with my name on it.

If only.

Bang goes that theory

Well it's been a while, and for good reason.

Firstly Almighty D and Mrs D renewed their vows in spectacular fashion. Medieval theme and shit loads of snow. Half the guests couldn't make it, and those that did had trouble thawing out our huskies for the trip home.

Then the old git kicked the bucket. It was hard to be suitable mournful and interested at the funeral, which was also held during the blizzards. I had expected to feel something, not loss or sadness of course, but something. Nada. I must say he led one hell of a life, one which ordinarily would inspire admiration if it hadn't involved him. Since the snow my Gran has been alive for the first time in my eyes. I had glimpse her true self once before, drunk and dancing on the table to South African songs....on a school night! I've never seen her happier, which is sad really in a way.

Shit comes and shit goes, another year passes and another birthday is morned. I've definitely had good birthdays before, I remember them. In general though the whole January/February period is one of melancholy and depression. Helped along by bad health, I pulled back under my blanket and pretended the world didn't exist. Unfortunately this gets on certain peoples nerves, and rightly so. It's selfish and self indulgent crap. My friends, or should I say those that know me the best, accept this as a personality quirk. They know I'll be back. They shouldn't have to wait, and wonder, but the odd absence has got to be better than just blowing my brains out.

Finally some good news turns up. The Boy moves North to live with Almighty D (his Dad) for a while. The story there is long, complicated and none of your fucking business anyway. Lets just say it's a good thing. The Boy turns out to be a really cool guy to hang around with and all are happy, as they should be. Except Almighty D who now lives in paranoid fear that The Boy doesn't like him. I think I'm going to start carrying around a large damp trout to slap people with when they're being daft. Almighty D will be smelling of trout 24/7.

All in all, I thought 2011 was going to be a good year. Now I know we're not even half way through yet, and some good stuff has happened, but it ain't looking good on the whole. My recovering finances took a kick in the crotch when my car and laptop broke at the same time, health is as shitty as ever and future prospects of every kind are quickly disappearing.

Sometimes life just sucks, but that's OK because sometimes it doesn't. You just have to wait for it to stop sucking.

Random Guy #3

Do you ever get the feeling your life is a movie?
Not a huge blockbuster. Not even a feel good rom-com, or big thrills action.
Nope, your movie is the dodgy one that no-one really gets. Crappy depressing story with disappointingly shitty end. You know the one, lots of hype but no-one buys the DVD.

There would only be one thing more depressing than having that film for a life, and that would be playing an extra in your own movie. All these dynamic scenes and plot twists, even though it's really hard to tell there's a plot at all, and you're at the back of the shot. No lines, just set dressing. You don't even get a name in the credits, just Random Guy #3. No past, no future, your present only serves as filler for other people's story.

It's a shitty job but someone has to do it

Huh?

I was called a whore today.
Still not entirely sure how I feel about that.
In my eyes a whore is someone who sleeps around a lot, different girl every weekend kind of thing. Well that's definitely not me. I know I have a filthy perverted mind, all the best minds are, but I wouldn't have thought my actions were whore worthy.
I've only slept with people I've been in a serious relationship with, the shortest one being 3 or 4 months. I regularly spend a year or more between relationships sleeping with no-one but my monkey. Even then I have been in relationships with no sex at all. As odd as that may sound to some people, it was nice just being with some, sharing your lives and experiences. Affectionate companions more than girlfriends. Sometimes a cuddle in bed as you fall asleep is better than a shag.

I guess it's all relative though, some believe in no sex before marriage, and some (I could easily name certain friends) will bonk anything that moves. I think a whore cares about sex, while I have genuinely cared for and loved all those who have been in my life. I have been hurt by most, and unfortunately done some hurting to others, such is the way of break ups. I still care about all of them, and am truly happy for those who have moved on and found love elsewhere. Even the ones who hurt me the most, but especially the few I hurt.

So no I don't think I am a whore. I might have had a fuller sex life than some, but I don't want sex. I want love. I want to wake up next to someone who makes me smile for no reason, someone who makes life just that little bit wonderful.

My search for love continues, but I sincerely hope yours doesn't last as long. We all deserve that deep love that makes life living, don't you think?

I've had a thought....no wait come back, you might get a giggle out of this.
Why does Christmas last so long?

You see everyone else, except the Queen, only gets one day. Yet Christmas just goes on and on and on. I think it has to do with the length of labour. For most of us, from water breaking to baby popping, labour takes less than 24 hours. Longer labours are quite common, especially amongst first time mothers. Bingo. Mary was a first time mom, and a virgin at that.

But how long did it take her to squeeze out little JC? I think a major clue comes from a popular Christmas song. The twelve days of Christmas. 12 days! With a labour like that we should be celebrating the mother and not the sprog.

Why exactly did it take so long though? Well lets think about this for a second. Firstly JC is the son of God, and God is everywhere and knows everything. Which means He's huge with a ginormous head. Imagine trying to squeeze the offspring of that out of you! secondly JC, being the son of God, was pretty advanced compared to mere mortals. Also if you remember, JC was a bit of an entertainer, turning water into wine and walking on water etc.

So imagine if you will, Marys' water has just broken. Joseph takes a peak and sees a tiny hand, which promptly disappears. It pops back out and starts waving at him. Slightly startled, Joe leans in closer and hears baby mumblings. Which reveal both why Christmas lasts so long, and who is to blame for one of the most annoying songs ever.

Little JC "You put you left armie out, you pull you left armie in. In, out, in, out, you shake it all about....you put your right footie out..."

12 days of this! And people wonder why God sent his only son to Earth, it was for some hokey cokey peace!

Tree Frog

Tree Frog: "Add this tree frog to your page to see how he inquisitively follows your mouse or eats the flies you give it"

What the fudge??

I was talking to this sweet young lady the other day, and she had a bit of a problem. You see she plays the cornet and sax, but can't practice at home much because it upsets the neighbours. Now I'm sure this has nothing to do with the quality of her skills, but rather the constant repetition of scales and such. Me being me, I offered up a few solutions. Apparently deliberately popping their eardrums isn't sensible, and drugging them every day can be expensive. I did hit on one idea though which was sheer genius, if I do say so myself. I'm not going to share that idea just yet because I have yet to find a working version anywhere and it could make me rich, or kill me, either way it could be an interesting project.

So I start looking into getting a cheap trumpet, the base frame of my idea. Holy bat shit they're expensive! Even buggered ones that don't work can go for £100 or more. If modern technology and cheap labour can produce brand new guitars for £40-£60 then surely someone can pump out cheap trumpets. I can go out tomorrow and buy a car, one with all it's wheels and everything, for less than a frigging trumpet. What the hell is the deal with that?

It does make me wonder though, just how messed up is the world?

Price of admission

I've had a few revelations recently, and been forced to admit to a few things. Which is a good thing really. You can only ignore things for so long before they bite you on the arse...hard. There's always that fear though. What will other people think? If I admit to that I'm admitting that I'm weak etc etc. For me this has been quite difficult and somewhat hipocrytical. Firstly I don't care what people think. Never have and never will. Secondly, I know I'm weak. We all are in different ways, just like we are all strong in certain aspects. So what the hell was I afraid of?

I think my biggest problem is honesty. I'm not a liar as such, but I have a really bad habit of misleading people. I act friendly to people I can't stand, I say I'm fine when I'm far from it and I act like a descent social chap. I'm really not. As I've mentioned before, I really don't like myself, and I suppose it's time to get into all that bollocks. Those closest to me will know that I suffered from anger issues, and that I sorted myself out and don't lose my temper anymore. I got my head to a place where I'm not even sure I can lose it, but I'm angry. Deep inside I'm always angry. It's actually a rather odd feeling, everyone and everything starts to become a mild annoyance. Yet I can calmly look in at the anger, and then just get on with things.

Next on the list is depression, and sundries. I personally would class my depression as perfectly normal, and understandable, for someone who's gone through the shit I have and leads the life I do. There are a few other things mixed in that scare the shit out of me though. I have suicidal thoughts almost constantly. From my early teens, every day and in most of my dreams. Don't send for the Samaritans just yet, letr me explain. The suicidal thoughts don't feel like they come from a depressed place. Even at my happiest they are still there. They are just there, not a way of escaping anything. I see a high bridge and I idly wonder what it'd feel like to jump off. Waiting at pedestrian crossings, I randomly get urges to step in from of cars. Let me make it clear at this point. I DO NOT WANT TO DIE. There is way too many fun and interesting things in the world to miss out on. I saw a documentary on Tourettes a few years ago, and apparently there is a type 2 Tourettes which is distinguished by random and unemotional urges of suicide. This fit the bill so much it scared the crap out of me, so much so that I've never had the guts to see a Doc about it.

My latest self discovery is something you've probably never heard of. Trichotillomania is an obsessive compulsion to pull out your own hair. For quite a number of years I've had a nervous habit, when I'm stressed or bored mainly, of plucking hair. During bad spells I grow my beard and concentrate on my chin so I don't end up bald. I've made excuses over the years, from singing my eyebrows during one of my misadventures, to not being able to shave due to sensitive skin. Well truth time, I grow my beard on purpose so I can pull out the hair. I have Trichotillomania, I am a Trichster. I joined a fantastic support group this week, and have been finding out some rather interesting things. The one that really caught my eye was the link between Trich, ADD, OCD and Tourettes. You see I've always been a touch hyper, Boredom kills me. When I'm online I'm also playing games on Facebook and have a game going on the xbox. Add to that the Tourettes link. If I do indeed have type 2 like I suspect, then it all makes sense.

All in all it has been a bit of a scarey week for me, thinking about all my serious defects. It's amazing the releif I felt when I joined the Trich support group, and not only did they understand about the hair pulling but many of the others share my other quirks. Seems that maybe I'm really not the complete dick I thought I was, the other Trichsters are the same as me and they are all loverly.

The first step to recovery is admitting to yourself that you have a problem, that has never been an issue. The second step is admitting those problems to the people you care about. That has kind of been what this whole post is about. Certain important people have access to this blog, and can read it anytime. Whether or not I have the guts to discuss my issues with them face to face is another story. One step at a time. I do feel like I've made progress though, but I'm still a dick.

Always read the label

You know, when you buy food, everything you need to know is on the label. Wouldn't life be so much easier if people had the same? Now I know what you're going to say. "finding out is half the fun" but I'm not saying put everything in print, just the important things.

So what would I put on these people labels?

Well for starters single status. Think how better it would be if we had a clue from the get go. Ladies, for one you wouldn't be hit on all the time when your partner is elsewhere. As much of a confidence booster as it is, I'm told it is annoying. Then we come to dating, how much easier would it be if we knew who was available right from the start?

Sexuality. Yep I said sexuality. In this modern society we have all sorts to contend with, and quite frankly it makes things messy. This is something that is recently giving me trouble. I met someone cute, I really start to like them but oh dear, I don't have enough ovaries for their taste. Come on people, let the rest of us know which way you swing!

Religious conviction. Now I don't care which God you believe in or what church you go to, but all I'll say is that someone who goes to church more than twice a week and someone who intensely dislikes the whole setup, should never meet.

The next one is a bit tricky. You see most of us are completely oblivious to the signs that someone likes us. A little hint on the people label might be a good idea, something along the lines of "you stand a chance so don't blow it" would be good.

If you don't want to walk around with a tag glued to your face, then I guess the next best thing is to just say what you think. If you like someone, say so. Talk about your beliefs and ideals. Be open with your sexuality, don't ever be ashamed. No-one actually cares that much these days.
The only thing keeping us back is fear. Fear of rejection, but what if we're accepted? It's a risk worth taking.

Can I get off now please?

I have periods of crippling depression, mostly for good reasons. The problem is that I'm pretty good at hiding it. So I fester in my own little dark world while others think it's business as usual. Of course if some dipshit shrink was to analyze me they would come up with all sorts of crap that doesn't actually help, but at the end of the day I've just got to hang on tight and ride it out.

It's hard to describe what these funks are like, and harder still to imagine that anyone else could understand. Perhaps putting these thoughts and feelings into words helps....then again who gives a shit?

What is more interesting is the random crap my brain comes up with when the rest of me doesn't want to keep going. For example, just today most of my being was screaming to go and do something silly when a naughty little thought popped up. Is it possible to de-evolve?

Take a look at humans and chimps. Yes humans are more intelligent, and we have the whole opposable thumbs thing going....but in every other respect, we are inferior to chimps. Our ape cousins have fewer diseases, fewer genetic defects, almost no allergies, they are physically stronger and can withstand greater environmental extremes than we can. So who is the more advanced creature?

I say the human race would be better off if we buggered off back into the trees, used our feet as hands and occasionally threw our shit at each other...OK we kind of do that last one already, but I hope you get my point. The more "advanced" we get, the more fragile we become. Is it coincidence that as hygiene and anti-bacterial soaps become more and more fashionable, asthma also increases?

I say let kids play in the mud. Make them lick their chickenpox addled friends. Climb trees and enjoy life, don't fear it.