But don't worry, because I am here with a nice long blog, featuring elaborate and hilarious pictures of things, as well as lots of hilarious social commentary and stuff. Perhaps I'll use IRONY too. Don't use enough irony on this blog which has, until recently, been an entirely irony-free zone. Wew look at all that lack of irony. Don't get enough of that irony stuff around these parts.
BUT ENOUGH OF THE POINTLESS INTRODUCTION. TIME TO GIVE A QUICK RESUME OF MY ACTIVITIES OF THE PAST TWO WEEKS::::::::::: :D ::::::::::::::
1: I GOT A GIRLFRIEND
This is pretty much the main/best news. Yes, I'm sorry ladies, but I'm off the market. I will have to withdraw resonately from the dating game yet again. If you want to get your kinky teenage thrills now, you'll have to go back to lesbianism or worshipping statues of me carved out of wood and bronze. Or doing both. Its possible to worship while wearing sensible shoes and a stupid plaid shirt; Jesus did it all the time.
Who is this girlfriend? Who is the latest squaw, the newest squeeze, the reason that my phone is totally clogged up with messages, the heavenly messenger of sweetness and light and possibly confusion induced headaches from above? Why, it is none other than the same girlfriend I was going out with last time. Yeah!!!!!!
How did I get her back? Well it is a convoluted story, involving lots of Eastenders styleeee plot twists and a guest appearance from Martin Kemp. I am renowned for my intense story-telling abilities (I can stretch even the most simple and depressingly uninteresting tale into a full fifteen-minute epic) and thus if I was so inclined I could tell you lot all about the quirky events that occurred until I finally managed to press-gang Cupid into quitting his job for Strongbow and getting back to shooting innocent girls in the back of the neck with his gay little arrows. I could mention the exciting fight scene that me and a certain lanky midget had atop a burning battleship - he was armed with a pistol, a knife, and a pistol that shot little knives, I was naked and armed only with a mug tree - that resulted in said midget's hideous screaming death. I could remark of the romantic montage showing me and the unfortunate girl in question running hand in hand through a beautiful green meadow filled with long grass, gay little flowers and fluttering butterflies - she wearing a full length cremoline smock and a bonnet, me dressed in my finest paperboy hat and breeches. Hell, if I wanted I could tell you all about my final confession of love in a rainforest glade, surrounded by, you know, trees and shit.
BUT I WON'T TELL YOU ABOUT THAT, because lets face it - nobody watches romantic comedies for the kooky scene when Tom Hanks - ha ha ha - meets his lover in the coffee shop and does something hilariously awkward that results in a HUGE audience laugh, like messing up his romantic speech, accidentally knocking over the waitress, letting slip that he has AIDS and he's just bled in her coffee, or slipping up on a bannana peel. I mean, those bits are classic and god forbid, where would modern cinema be without Ryan Reynolds, but the REAL crux of the story is the first meeting and the inevitable happy climax. Which in this story was pretty exciting.
Basically, after six months of traipsing through the desert of singledom, which was a dusty barren place, filled with ugly people and convicts, I finally sighted the fabled Glade of the Girlfriends, a mythical place where girlfriends run about free range, trying on makeup and singing happy little songs about birds and pink things. Sighting this field, which smelled of perfume and hair, I leapt up onto my horse and galloped into the midst of it, twirling my lasso about like a medieval king. Seeing me, the girlfriends immediately scattered in all directions, shrieking in their high pitched women's voices, and I was in danger of not catching any. However, with a last act of desperation I threw out my lasso and captured a decent one. Hooked her right round the neck. Got her. Got'er. Got'er. Didn't I get'er? I got'er, didn't I? Got'er.
Using my intense strengh I dragged her away. It was only after we were five miles away from the Glade that I realised that I'd managed to get the same girlfriend that I was going out with this time last year. But then I didn't complain; it was too far away from the Glade for me to be arsed to go back, and as girlfriends go, Lucia isn't a bad specimin. Perhaps a bit thin, perhaps. Plus, her clothes are a bit kooky for my tastes and she always looks cold. But no, it was a pretty good catch. And consider what else I could have pulled out of the throbbing mass of femaledon that was the Glade of the Girlfriends. Just imagine...
DAVIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINA.
Argh get away from me you facepulling overenthusiastic pregnant apple-bint. Eugh.
So that's the girlfriend angle pretty much covered. Now to discuss everything else that has happened to me recently...
2: ALL THE OTHER STUFF
School ended, I visited Cambridge University, I was disgusted by nerds, I went swimming, I saw Pirates of the Carribean: Curse of the Macguffin, I tried to get a job at WHSmith, I was unimpressed by the World Cup, I booked my practical driving test, I'm going to Durham tomorrow, I blogged. The End.
Shit, I forgot to include a sentence when I assert my amazing aesthetic and reproductive superiority over the rest of you. After all, my sense of humour and my brilliant personality (which has been hardened, purified and honed by years of rowing) has won through again, AND I HAVE A BUFF AWESOME TUBOCHARGED GIRLFRIEND WHILE ALL THE TALL RICH HANDSOME VANILLA-LOOKING MEN AROUND DO NOT. I win yet again. Mwahahahahahahaa!!!11!! Take that, internet!!1!1!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No but seriously, I hope you all find love wherever it shall appear from. Except you. You know who I'm talking about. You back there. You. Yes, YOU. No girlfriend for you, grimy.
And they lived happily ever after until she dumped him over MSN again when she realises what a crap boyfriend he is.
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