September Update
17th September 2007
 
My Internet connection decided to stop working for no fucking reason and I had nothing better to do, so I figured it was about time to write an update. So I did that and then I managed fix my connection. How about that.
 
I haven't done many journal entries on account of the fact that I don't have a job, I never do anything of interest and I hate you. And if you don't like that, then I guess you can all line-up and blow me.
 
Right. As much as I'd love to stay here thinking about your stupid faces, I have to leave you with the journal now because my slacks have descended. Good day.
 
Mr Jerky
 
 
Tuesday 21st August 2007:
Being unemployed is brilliant. Okay, brilliant would be an exaggeration. Being unemployed is fucking depressing, but still preferable to hanging around in some workplace everyday and having people give me grief for whatever the hell it is they think I've done to warrant it. I still have most of what I saved from my final year in Crawley, living as a lodger and pushing overtime for Dick Branson, so money is the least of my worries for now.
 
Bored, I've inevitably begun stalking people. I logged on to "Bebo" which is kind of like a Facebook for chavs and Irish people. I visited my old school's communal page and recognised a few people who, back in the day, liked to hassle me about my being from England. Half of these people have now relocated to London of all places, and suffice to say they're all living it up over there, or are at least conveying that impression.
 
After seeing how much they apparently love England now, I saw it fitting to hijack the school's page (via less-than honest means) and embellish it with appropriate iconography. The results of which provided me with some mild amusement. While it is technically possible for anyone to undo the changes I've made, I don't see any of those fucking chimps ever working it out.
 
Monday 27th August 2007:
Went to stay at my parents' gaff again, because it's generally more habitable than that Dublin shithole, aside from the lack of broadband. Some of the neighbours have only recently signed up for telephones, so whoever's in charge probably hasn't deemed it worthwhile hooking-up our region yet. But at least I've accrued two new pictures of Luke with his hands in his pants for my collection! See here and here respectively.
 
Tuesday 28th August 2007:
My uncle was baling hay from our fields today, and for some reason my brothers and I had been volunteered to stack the bales. Lending a hand for fuck-all in return isn't that big a deal within reason, but this was taking the piss. There were hundreds of bales spread out over seven acres, a job someone should've been paying a bunch of fuckwit farmhands to do.
 
I helped out and regretted it as I now have rashes on my forearms that itch like a motherfucker. I could've worn long sleeves, but it was hot enough already. I'm just surprised that I wasn't killed by hay fever. I'm usually quite susceptible to this, but today my eyes didn't even so much as water. I don't know if this is related to my nose being fixed in February. I'm cured, but so fucking what.
 
Friday 31st August 2007:
Returned to Dublin this morning. I obviously didn't tell anyone that I returned today of all days purely because of Mega Weekend at Alterac Valley, a good time and place to avail of easy pointz. I had intended to play World of Warcraft for the best part of the day, but soon got fed up and stopped in favour of watching the prison-based antics of Michael Scofield on DVD. It was a good call.
 
Thursday 6th September 2007:
I was sitting in the living room this afternoon when, through the window, I noticed one of the neighbours putting something through our letterbox. I figured that the postman had fucked-up as usual, and my neighbour was just giving us our post that was mistakenly delivered to him. It was a fair bet considering this is an example of one day's wrongly-delivered mail to us, and trust me when I say it's a regular thing.
 
The dozy bastard had only gone and put it through another wrong letterbox. It had already been opened, so perhaps he expected me to deliver it to the correct address, so it would look like I had opened it. Cunning if true, although I think this would be giving him too much credit. He did open up a letter that wasn't addressed to himself after all, so I'm guessing he's just an idiot. This anecdote was worth mentioning.
 
First person to solve this brainteaser wins a kick up the arse.

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© 2007 MR. JERKY