Author: Paul

I have a terrible habit of dropping myself in it. I get this from my mother’s side. No wait, actually. I get it from both sides. I seem to often get caught trying something, I’m that guy. The one who takes a joke too far. Recently I was at the cinema with my incredibly beautiful and talented and long-time suffering girlfriend, Kate. I think it was when we saw On The Road actually. We sat at the back of the tiny studio screen and there were four other people in the room. A couple in their sixties/seventies sat directly in front of us. I was fine with this. There’s plenty of space but why not sit right in front of me, it’s cool. After the trailers finished they decided to move to a more central location and got up. As a joke I stuck my middle finger up at them and nudged Kate to show how funny I was being. She quickly shot me daggers and as I stared at her perplexed I was filled with horror because the old man had turned back for some reason to find me swearing at him and his wife. That’s the kind of stupid thing I do. It’s not big and it’s not clever but I think it will get me a quick laugh so I do it anyway.

Last night I decided to make a brilliant satirical comment on a post on Tumblr. I have a horrible feeling that someone is about to turn around in the dark and see my middle finger pointing at them again. This post was basically saying that it is terrible that New York got flooded and everyone was worried about it and yet at the moment Britain is flooded and nobody seems to care.
I decided the best thing I could do was place a flippant and disrespectful comment below this and see what happened. It turns out you get called a “fucking idiot”. I said (and you have to remember that it’s brilliant and satirical) that anyone who dies in a flood in Britain was just doing their bit for natural selection. Funny? Right? You’re still reading aren’t you? Hello.

Yeah. I thought that was quite good. Then I remembered that I was posting onto the Internet where people aren’t sane and reasonable and don’t know how hilarious I am. That is known as hitting a wall. I’ve had one response so far which I can only assume is from the person who wrote the original comment. They have however posted anonymously making the “fucking idiot” comment and saying that I obviously don’t know what natural selection is because it is mostly old people who die in floods and they’ve had their children already.
I’m in turmoil now because I don’t know whether to prove them wrong or just be quiet. I have a horrible feeling that I know which it will be.

This morning I was going to start recording. The first problem of the day arose when I couldn’t find my microphone lead. I still haven’t found it, just so you know, there will be no microphone lead conclusion to this post, it’s still missing, presumed lost of stolen.

While I was looking for it I started clearing the stuff out from under my bed. I realised that I had a lot of stuff under there. There were old law textbooks and cuddly toys and a cassette player and a lot of dust. It was like an awful version of the Generation Game. I started just pulling it all out and putting it to one side and realised that there was no reason for me to put it back. It doesn’t do anything. It’s just stuff collected under my bed so I took four bags of stuff to the tip and ate some cake.
The end.

Today I’m going to try and find some clothes.
I’m doing this alone. I have a habit of making terrible choices when left to my own devices in this fashion. Then again I once went shopping with my friend Mex and he convinced me to buy a brown leather jacket.
Yesterday Kate took me shopping, and we found some cool stuff. Basically everything I want seems to have elbow patches on it at the moment. Does that mean I’m growing up…. into a substitute teacher? I know that’s just a fashion thing at the moment.

Is it wrong that I quite like going shopping on my own? I don’t just mean for clothes either. I like food shopping on my own as well. I think I just love my own company. I’m awesome.

The shops don’t open for another two hours. What the hell do I do for two hours?

It’s Sunday morning. I have a cup of tea. This is how I like things to be.
That rhymes. I didn’t do that on purpose, I don’t think. Nobody is awake yet. I’m not entirely sure who is actually here to know if anyone should be awake yet but nobody has appeared and I’m assuming by the shut doors on the landing that there are people sleeping behind them. That’s why I’m being as loud as I can this morning. I’ve done some exercise, put on my skinniest jeans and storyboarded what could be the next sketch of You & Me & Him & Dad. I’m hoping it will be up by the end of next week.

I’ve got a couple of days off. Usually people use this time to unwind and catch up and chill out but I tend to try and get as much done as I possibly can. I’ve made a list and I’m checking it twice. I’ve got an awful lot of Christmas/Hannukah stuff to prepare. I’m going to make a start on some new recordings. I’m going to finish redrafting Visions and I need to buy some clothes. Recently I decided to get rid of anything that I didn’t need. It was a brilliant move and I’m still sure I could cut out a lot of other stuff. Who knows, if I get the chance this week I may have another stab at it. I do need some new jeans though, and some shirts. I’ve decided that with my promotion should come the kind of Paul who wears shirts to work. I’m not going to go in wearing a suit every day because that isn’t me at all, and while I can get away with wearing what I want I think I should but you can wear a shirt and not be in a suit (look at Woody Allen). I also need to buy some presents and try and wrap everything up. I hate leaving things until the last minute and knowing that I have a month to go until the day is making me prepare like I’m going to war.

The other night I was at the Rochford beer festival and my friend Mike remarked on something that I can’t get out of my head. We seem to be going through a quarter life crisis. This bodes well for us as it means we will live to a hundred but this year we have all entered into some kind of outlandish competition or achievement and it is completely distant from the kind of things we would usually do. At school and college we were part of the grunge/stoner set and as such any kind of sporting prowess was left to everyone else but this year one of us is training for the marathon, one of us completed a triathlon and I’m prepping for a trek across the Sahara. It’s so distant from our usual characters and we concluded that it was us trying to prove ourselves as men. I might try and write something more on that at a later date, let me know if you have any views.

Thanks.

I am planning on writing a review of my NaNoWriMo experience but it will have to wait until the weekend, when I am not being battered about on a commute. It’s like a tossed salad up in heeeerrre! I’ve sent the first draft of Visions Of Violet to a couple of people and I am redrafting it but I’m onto the next project, and given how I spent the best part of an hour changing all my guitar strings last night I suppose it should be a set of recordings. The Christmas thing has moved slightly off centre, I do still have plans for it but I would like to record a near enough acoustic album. I have ten tracks, I make that an album.
I want it to sound as natural and organic as possible, I’m prone to throwing all sorts of MIDI trickery in over my tracks but these I would like to keep to just a vocal and guitar tracks wherever possible. When I can I want to record live and where impossible I will just layer guitar over. I’ll wait to see what it sounds like before I start blowing my trumpet (purely metaphorical). That’s next though. Should be good.