Get raped
24th July 2006
 
In recent news, Scatman John has ditched both Jon Wine and their combined efforts to rid the world of corruption in favour of forging a new alliance with Jon Wine's arch nemesis, Ted Danson.
 
Together, John and Danson plan to construct a mile high Monument To Rape. Not only will the structure feature speakers to blare scat-rape music at all hours, but its impressive height could be used to spot two-man gang rape targets from above.
 
With proper funding, the partners believe that their new monument could potentially double as a command centre from which to coordinate sexual assaults worldwide. Jon Wine is thought to be fucking livid.
 
Mr Jerky
 
 
Sunday 9th July 2006:
Comment enthusiast "Pointz" invited me out for a drink this afternoon. Considering I hadn't seen him in person since last August, I figured I'd go along and rock some faces. It was all well and good, but I think I got a bit more drunk than I realised at the time. I hadn't eaten much previously and I'm not very good at beer these days, unlike Pointz who pours it on his fucking cornflakes (probably). I've definitely seen him drink a beer for breakfast.
 
On the way home, I passed some weirdo who was pissing up against a roadside tree from two feet away in broad daylight. Once finished, he staggered up beside me and asked who'd won the world cup. I told him I didn't know as I hadn't watched it, to which he laughed under his breath as if I'd said something funny. As he continued talking shit at me, I was all set to munt him in the face if he tried laughing again, which was clearly drunken logic. He didn't though.
 
Monday 10th July 2006:
In an unexpected twist to the ongoing Jerky saga, I handed in my notice of resignation this morning. I dislike my job and all, but work isn't meant to be fun and it's not my motivation for quitting per se. It's more like this: I originally came to England as a teenager seeking a less rubbish life. Unfortunately, this was a stupid plan that went horribly tits-up. But I stuck around nonetheless, hoping things would eventually get better.
 
I am now 24 years old. When I'm not getting tanked-up with Pointz once or twice per year, I'm either working or moping alone in my bedroom while every other fucker is out there singing, dancing and playing grab-ass. I get to do little else, usually spending months of subsequent weekends just sat in front of my computer, only leaving the house for food or haircuts. Over time, this shitty lifestyle has burnt me out to a point where I can't keep going much longer. If I'd foreseen it, I wouldn't have wasted my time coming here in the first place.
 
So rather than continue whining to no avail like some kind of self-pitying emo ponce, I've decided to concede defeat and just fuck off back to Ireland. Yes, at the end of this month I'll be crawling back on my hands and knees like some sort of fucking prodigal son, except without the whole being prodigal bit and more taunts of "way to leave home, shitwad" at the end. Bah.
 
Wednesday 19th July 2006:
It was pretty damn hot today. The hottest July day since records began, according to the rumours. It didn't help much that the office air conditioning or "AC" as it's sometimes referred to is officially "broken". I'm assuming this is due to overuse during winter months. And every year I seem to overhear someone advise against opening windows on hot days because it "only lets the hot air in". Seriously. It's like when people say "it's too cold for snow" in winter, a load of bullshit.
 
On the way home, I noticed that almost every fucker on the road had their car windows rolled right up. They had either been duped by this crazy advice or all had AC, which is a scam unless your vehicle is stationary. Not my problem though. I spent the rest of the evening sat in my room with all the windows wide open and a fan blowing right in my face like one super-cool motherfucker.
 
Friday 21st July 2006:
Today was my last day at work. Since I announced my upcoming departure, co-workers eager to see me leave have been pretending that they’re sad to see me go, most likely in a effort to convince themselves that they're decent people. The office was decorated with the usual balloons and "sorry you're leaving" banners. I was given cards, a few presents and we were all permitted to go down the pub for an hour and a half at lunchtime. I didn't want any of this, but played along nonetheless. The pub visit was very surreal. We all just sat in the beer garden, chatting and even having a bit of a laugh. Then all the female-types present inflicted "hugs" upon me. Madness. I'm just glad all that shit is behind me now.
 
Monday 24th July 2006:
Just got a call from some skanger dipshit I've hired to transport my possessions to Ireland. I was originally informed that pick-up would take place "some time on Wednesday", but it now turns out they'll be round first thing tomorrow morning! I must now update my shit before putting my computer in a box and entrusting its safe delivery to a bunch of ape-like cretins who clearly don't know their arses from their elbows. Brilliantly, I'd already booked my flight for Thursday morning, so now I've got two whole days of sitting around without my beloved computer, TV or weights to keep me occupied. Sounds like fun, fun, fun!
 
Eat my dust!

[ 1 comment ]

© 2006 MR. JERKY