A Gothic State

Which is completely different from the United States (a place full of fat people with guns) - a Gothic state is a heightened sense of awareness, whilst imbibing liquids of a dubious nature, marvelling at the beauty of everything - oh, and the black thing.

However, I have entered the Gothic State and I didn't need a passport - apparently, 'they' were expecting me.

Ergo, it would appear that:-

Mini-Goth is a genius (and all the girls love him - probably some of the boys too) and is 'taking' stupid exams years earlier than needed. If the result is not an 'A' - I will be seeking furious vengeance.

Mini-Gothess is experiencing problems because her forthright nature creates problems for the idiots on the planet. But, methinks there is an 'arse-kicking' afoot - and she won't be taking the class, she'll be teaching it.

Mrs Ex-Goth remains as mad as a bag of squirrels - but she's not talking to me anyway - 'Hoozah - and pancakes for breakfast'.

Mariposa has come to terms with the fact that European Commission people are full of shit - 'poo' is the same in most languages but, just take the money and run.

In other Gothic news..

Goth has to do 'conference calls' with American Idiots again - it's a green day thing. Looking on the dark side, they are aware that I think that they are monkeys with keyboards but I'm not refraining from calling them twats.

Aside from that - not much news from the Gothic State - I have been (de)moted from dealing with shit to dealing with big shit (but shit comes in a compact fashion).

It could be worse - I could be Chinese and trying to kick the crap out of anyone trying to get to the Olympic doofers.

New Testament - The Hobbit

As The Goth has entered a new environment, he has encountered new characters. All of these 'people' he has had to add a label to in order to remember their names, rank, habits etc. One has to bear in mind that being a lazy bastard, I don't really work for Mrs Miggins at the corner shop - so I lean toward global corporations - except McDonalds, who are a bunch of twats.

Obviously, one has to be slightly discreet in describing your cow-workers, in case the muppets actually read this shit but, in keeping with true Goth Policy - maybe not, as I don't give a fuck.

Introducing - Number 1 - The Hobbit.

Head of new shit - apparently he got promoted from looking after old shit. Wandering around the office looking for his ring, he is a desolate figure - with no hair. I'm somewhat tempted to offer to superglue my offcuts to his head but maybe he wants to look like a midget version of Michael Stipe ?!

The Hobbit was my first point of contact on my way to Mount Doom and he still hasn't introduced me to Doom - I just have to assume she is a babe by the way that he dribbles when he talks about her.

In the meantime, I have to circumvent his inane questions about mathematical functions. It kind of reminds me of being back in school and being asked why 'we' have quadratic equations. Apparently, "because there's a lot of sad bastards in the world with nothing better to do" is not the correct answer.

Talking of sad bastards, The Hobbit relishes the prospect of night support. Now, as a Goth, I appreciate the vampire hours more than most but not if some wanker in Venezuela can't make their printer create an invoice. Fuck off and don't be calling me at 3 am !!!

I think The Hobbit is starting to appreciate the fact that I don't actually care that his 'precious' system doesn't do what it is supposed to. Guess what, I think - out loud, your inadequacies are what created my job.

Of course, if he starts eating raw fish and stating "We likes them wet and wwwwwriggling" I will have to drop 16 tons on his head !!

Welcome to my world.......

Every Position Thinkable

No matter what position I try in bed at the moment, it's just not working - I can't do it. This is very unusual for me and not something I like at all.

This from a person, who not so long ago, could do it anywhere - and did. In bed, on the sofa, in the bath, on the beach, on a train - bloody hell, you name it and I probably did it there. I wasn't embarrased. Why should I be? My body, I'll do what I bloody well like with it.

But, it's coming to the crunch (and I don't like crunchy things) I may have to go to the doctor and get some of those little pills. This is going to be such a twatty day. Me, the supposed Goth of Rock having to go and beg for pills from a doctor because I can't do it. It's just not bloody rock n roll.

Then he'll probably tell me to eat healthily. Yeah right, that's going to happen. This for a person that if he receives a plate with some side salad on it, says to the waiter "Well you can take that green shit off there to start with".

I don't think I have a choice though, I want to do it, I NEED to do it.

Buggery bollocks with tassles on

No choice though, I'll have to go to the doctor with my head bowed and mutter that I'm not capable of it anymore.

The really sad thing is I know the reason. It's not some phsiological problem, it's purely mental.....

I'm just not used to sleeping alone. She's not here, and I can't do it - get to sleep that is.