Return Of The Rant: Is It Really Worth It?

I think I am having a moment.  Or I am about to have a moment.

Is it really worth it?  Do I really like it?  I’m not luvvin it, lovin’ it or loving it.

I don’t want to say too much as I know I am very good at foot in mouth syndrome and I am well aware from past history that anyone can, and does, read my blog, including the Russian mafia.  And the ex-manager that I referred to as The Internet Gestapo.  Though it did help me towards my eventual redundancy I like to think, which will have pleased Sven.  And The Met Office.  And some shitty US law agency.  And a surprisingly large amount of people based in Kensington.

Unlike Gordon Brown, I don’t have a particular destiny in life…oh to be Gordon Brown and know that your destiny is to be leader of your country.  I know secretly I am a leader, perhaps even the leader – who knows if I turned evil then maybe nuclear Armageddon would come the next day.  But I don’t think that is my calling.  Why do I do what I do every day?  Is there more to life than this?  Those are the questions of the day.  Not, do I want a fucking hot drink when I didn’t ask for one.

If anyone from Hull is reading, they would tell me to shut the fuck up or I’ll get a slap.  People from Hull don’t choose destinies.  They just have them.

Well, I like being different.

But I’m not that different am I?  I do the whole 9-5 thing like everyone else.  And I’m not exactly feeling the love for it this morning.  Oops foot in mouth syndrome again but what am I going to do about it?  Actually I was quite enjoying it but I don’t think they are so appreciative of me, I talk too much.  It isn’t beyond me to be quiet.  I think I can do it.  I have music to listen to which helps massively in keeping me quiet.  Sven, Ricardo, et al can keep me happy.  I don’t need to chat so much shit.

I just remembered that when I was younger, I used to ring random people and when they said hello, I would say goodbye.  Gosh, I was a naughty child.  And then there was when I called and asked to speak to Mr Wall.  When they said there was no Mr Wall, I would ask for Mrs Wall.  And then when they said there was no Mrs Wall, I would ask if there were any walls in the house.  And then when the said no, I would ask what kept their f***ing roof up.

Always the comic genius.

What do I really want in life right now?  I want to go storm chasing in America.  I want to experience the power of the tornado.  And I want to go to Japan.  Don’t ask me why, I just really want to go there.  So I guess I need to work to have any chance of doing either.  Though on my current wages and more importantly extortionate rent and bills (of my own choosing though), I won’t be doing them any time soon.  Unless I stay in every single weekend this year.  Yeah right.

So I guess the beat in my head goes on, life goes on, and I will keep doing what I am doing until I win one of the Rich For Life scratchcards or I find that elusive meaningful thing to do with my life, other than of course following in Sven’s footsteps after he subliminally told me via some cheap tacky Ibiza magazine that I needed to follow my dream and become a DJ and set up a my very own version of Cocoon – and two years later I managed it.  Kind of.  What next?

Anyway, I’ve had my rant, I’ve cleared my mind, two thirds of the world don’t have safe drinking water, 2 million people in the UK don’t have a job that claim to want one, and I can listen to Sven Vath at work all bloody day long.  How many people can say that?

Phew, I feel better now.  Life can go on.  What will be, will be.  Have a nice day, thanks for reading.

Until next time, or until I get sacked, jailed or shot by the Russian mafia a la Anna Politkovskaya.  Oops.  Foot in mouth again.

Oh my word, just 4 weeks until Sven Vath is in London.  Oooooh!  Please someone come with me.  You don’t have to, but it would be nice.  Everything I have heard from him this year shows he is absolutely on fire as much as ever – trust me.  I’m a DJ.

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