06
Nov 09

The Edinburgh Conman and His Wife

So, I’ve just finished a conference call with a well known liquidation company in London. Since the September 2008 realisation that I’d had my pants well and truly pulled down by an accomplished conman, I’ve taken it upon myself to make him pay. By this, I mean I’ve dedicated my life to collecting evidence and passing it onto the authorities, whilst also intimidating him by any means necessary within the confines of the law…..most of the time. The conference call also hosted a number of individuals that have been stupid enough to re-invest with this man on the basis of setting up another business venture with the objective of earning enough money to repay the original victims. Thankfully they have now seen the light (because every penny has disappeared mysteriously)  – it looks like this arsehole and his wife will be doing bird sooner rather than later. I can only hope his future cell mate is a 6’ 4” raging homosexual with a huge tool and a dose of the clap during a time that will be forever remembered in history as the great Vaseline famine of the 21st century.

Thinking about it, it would put an even bigger smile on my face if he (the raging homosexual) were to specialise in not taking no for an answer and thinks of physical rejection as nothing more than playful foreplay.

Michael


05
Nov 09

My Housemate is a Moron

So I’m sat at home preparing to get through some long overdue paperwork (I haven’t opened much of my mail recently) and I feel the urge to make myself a nice cup of tea. I wander into the kitchen and go through the motions of making myself the hot drink in question when I suddenly realise there is no sugar in the sugar pot. Now, this is quite strange because my f*cking idiot housemate, Len bought some sugar only last night. I know this because 1. I had several drinks and had an abundance of sugar at my disposal and 2. Len bought ‘half spoon’ sugar by accident and due to him being f*ucking mentally challenged, kept putting too much sugar in his drink, prompting him to react each time like someone had shit in his mouth.

Because Len is a complete f*ucking moron, it doesn’t take me long to piece the puzzle together. He’s obviously thrown out the new sugar without giving a moment’s thought to me and whether I might like it, which was evident last night when I was f*ucking using it.

Michael


04
Nov 09

My Ex and I Go Shopping at Lakeside

…by shopping, I mean she shopped and I watched. However, the fact that we got along for a few hours was pleasant to say the least. We were also joined by the ex’s two year old daughter, Lilly, who I adore. Anyway, I used to like shopping for two reasons, the first being that I’m quite stylish (if I say so myself) and enjoy spending money on nice clothes and the second being the inevitable procession of the hottest women in the town, dolled up like its Friday night, all of which a perfect distraction for hundreds of bored husbands and boyfriends dragged around by their partners on any given day.

Obviously, the Ex cannot know I’m letching at said hot women and I get the impression every man in the shopping centre is thinking the same thing. The Ex is looking particularly nice today and I regret coming out because her looking nice is a recipe for disaster. Lilly, on the other hand is delightful, horrible, funny, moody, tired, spoilt, delightful, and funny again all afternoon as every two year old should be. She refuses to do anything mummy or Michael asks her to do but has a thoroughly good time.

I blame my non commitment phobia on Shopping centres, I may even sue. For all these hot women walking about the place isn’t healthy for any relationship, especially any relationship I am in! It’s like anything else, you have what you have and then you see what someone else has got and you want some of that also. Usually people feel this emotion towards inanimate objects but very many people also feel this towards people and relationships. The only way of combating it is genuinely being with someone you feel you belong with and, unfortunately, my Ex probably isn’t that person.  In fact, its nigh on impossible to ever find anyone suitable and I should know.  Whereas most people could probably have a happy relationship with one in ten of the opposite sex, even claiming them to be ‘the one’, when they’re actually ‘the one million’! People like me can only make a relationship work with one in a hundred women because we’re so damn fussy.

Anyway, I can’t think where I’m going with this so I’m going to stop writing and get ready to go round to the Ex’s….why do I do this to myself?

Michael


03
Nov 09

The ‘F’ Word

My shortest update so far….

After a careful review process and a lengthy discussion….with myself, I have decided to stop using potentially offensive swear words in my blog. I will replace them with the words cheesed, frickin, f**k and shit. I personally don’t find the word ‘shit’ offensive and anyone that does can f**k off.

Note to self: Shit and f**k in the context used above are still offensive.

Note to reader: I realise I’m still using the words. However, I will only use the words shit and f**k when absolutely necessary and the other words, cheesed and frickin on a regular basis because if you’re offended by them you really can f**k off.

Michael


02
Nov 09

Churchills Nightclub, Southend

I’ve delayed this update until now due to excessive drinking over the weekend, resulting in a bad head. The night also caused a serious bout of resentment which I shall explain as I go along.

The funny thing about being broke is the desire to escape the reality of the situation by any means necessary. This leads many people to alcohol, the weaker of which become full blown alcoholics. I’m different, I think, because although I like the escapism of drinking excessively at the moment, I’ve always been tea total in and around the home and only drink socially. I don’t particularly like the taste of alcoholic drinks and see them only as a means to an end.
Anyway, the good owners at Churchills sell cheap drinks every Friday night and my friend, Len and I are regulars of said establishment. The way I see it, I cannot escape the reality of not being able to pay the rent and this will come to a head soon, so I may as well enjoy my last weekends out while I can.

A bit about Len. Len is the most unattractive man I have ever known. His lack of hygiene is legendary amongst his long term friends and being my landlord and us living in the same dwelling, I can confirm every story. He is quite disgusting on every level. When he farts, he doesnt just fart, he produces something that can only be described as one of the modern wonders of this world in a prolonged, (sometimes up to 30 seconds), very wet, steaming, stinking, stomach turning, fresh air shit in his pants fart that cannot be excused in any circles. No man can produce such a phenomenon without the occasional follow through and Len is no different. This is a man that has to dispense with underwear during nights out after such occurrences, opting to limp to the toilets as though nursing a dead leg but actually nursing a shit in his pants.

Amongst Lens other traits are a total lack of respect for himself or anyone else, especially women. He goes on nights out with one thing in mind – getting laid and has a technique that I can only describe as crash, bang, wallop – setting his sights on the most intoxicated women, pouring more alcohol down the throat of any women that allows him and then pulling her into a taxi. He is a real life ‘Sid the Sexist’ and some women find it quite amusing until they realise he IS actually f*ucking like that. It goes without saying that every woman he ever cons into bed, usually leaves the next morning, early and never wants to grace his presence again. We actually rarely see them again which either means he’s also a serial killer or the night of abuse they have just been subjected to has given them a much needed wakeup call.

However, Friday was different, hence my resentment as I’m about to explain.

We’d been in Churchills for about an hour when Len spots an opportunity. It isn’t straight forward though because its 4 young girls (21), one of which gave me her number 6 months ago and I never contacted her. Len’s spotted the prize, which happens to be an attractive friend of theirs, who wouldn’t look twice at Len in any parallel universe but for some reason tonight, he’s having some success following her around, not taking no for an answer. By success, I mean she hasn’t threatened to call the police as yet, which does sometimes happen. She avoids him and she and I talk but her friend, my former reject is watching with interest. I back off to avoid an awkward situation and Len moves in with the second phase of his strategy, dragging her onto the dance floor away from me or any other attractive male! He always settles for the deepest reaches of the dance floor and smoothers his pray like a human anaconda, only allowing her to surface for air for phase three of his strategy, intoxication. An absolutely essential element to his plan is not allowing her anywhere near her friends for the rest of the evening. This would only ruin what he has in stall for her because her friends would talk sense into her. Usually, I’ll not see him again after phase two and once he commences phase four, its all over, the anaconda is about to devour its pray and the process of dragging her into a taxi is a formality due to intoxication. She isn’t allowed to say goodbye to friends for earlier stated reason.

My resentment is over the fact that 1. She is hot. 2. He is disgusting. 3. I’m going home alone to have 1 + 2 rubbed in my f*ucking face. Not to mention the fact that for some reason she’s loving the attention from him and remains in our house all weekend shagging him like a rabbit. He surfaces every couple of hours to brag to me in detail about what they’re doing together and I get the hump and have to go for long walks just to get out of the house.

On top of all that, I tell my ex what has happened and she further ruins my weekend by getting jealous of the girl Len is shagging because I think she’s hot. I really cannot f*ucking win at this point.

Michael


30
Oct 09

My Ex Girlfriend Takes Me To Dinner…

My ex and I have had a very turbulent relationship. It hasn’t been helped by a number of factors, namely, her anger management problems and my commitment phobia, combined with our self esteem issues as a result of me not having any income and her not having me at her beck and call. I get the distinct impression that she relishes any opportunity to see me these days though, much like a cat stalking a mouse that will very soon be homeless, thus will have nowhere to hide.

Now she invited me to dinner and offered to pay in advance. I am a modern man and accepted her proposal as long as she took me somewhere nice and she doesn’t drag up the past. Anyway, we arrive in the area of the recommended restaurant to find it doesn’t f*ucking exist. My idiot mate, Len, who has a tendency to get things completely wrong on a painfully regular basis, has given me the wrong restaurant name. I find a couple of Thai/Asian people walking aimlessly about the place and ask them where this restaurant might be. They know immediately and send us straight to it, either that or they’ve just sent us straight to their f*ucking restaurant. They even had the cheek to tell me how and where to cross the road to avoid getting hit by a car and I’m left wondering whether I’ve over done it with the fake tan.

Anyway, we sit down and the past becomes the present within 5 f*ucking minutes. We spend the evening at each other’s throats, only pausing to order, chew, drink and pay.

You see, she has taken me out for two reasons. Firstly, she still fancies me and would quite like some physical attention. Secondly, she’s paying for the meal so she can say and do what the hell she likes, including spending the evening character assassinating the idiot sat in front of her. It occurs to me that I’ve become a prostitute for the evening albeit without knowing it initially. I’m sure the same thought crossed her mind much f*ucking earlier than it did mine. However, being a man it really doesn’t bother me and I’m quite happy with the arrangement, except next time I’d rather do it with someone that hasn’t got quite so much shit on me!

Michael


29
Oct 09

An Adwords Specialist Contacts Me…

So it’s Thursday morning and I’m wondering where the week went, when I receive a phone call. Its a guy called Liam from this company or that and he doesn’t want to buy f*ck all, he wants to ruin my day by trying to sell me something. It’s not even something I would consider buying because its a complete scam and he thinks I’m just the dickhead to make his day. I’m not sure I’m more angry about it being a scam or that he thinks I’ll f*ucking fall for it.

Anyway, for those that don’t know, adwords is googles pay per click golden f*cking goose that allows them to place you right on the front page of relevant google searches. Anyway, its expensive and unless your website is out of this world or you’re a f*ucking genius, forget it, you’ll end up blowing more on adwords than you make in profit on any sales.

Anyway, he starts by reading out to me a carefully crafted script, designed to entice idiots like me into thinking this guy is the answer to all my prayers. He tells me intimate details about MY f*ucking adwords configuration as if he were logged onto it himself, and the convenient fact that its currently in a paused state because it near ruined me. I’m sure there is a data protection issue here, google, whereas some random schmuck called Liam can casually log onto my private adwords account and then have the cheek to contact me and offer to charge me to put it right. I wouldnt ask for my brick back if I threw it through someones window but I know a man that f*ucking would.

What is mildly amusing and really upsetting at the same time is that he then tells me my business has been specially selected by his company to receive their adwords services. I want to say ‘and what is your f*ucking selection criteria?, trawling pages 7, 8 and 9 on google and then looking for paused or stopped adwords accounts?’ Basically, these snakes are looking for companies languishing nowhere in google organic search listings and have, evidently unsuccessful adwords campaigns. Then they move in and promise the earth for a few hundred quid or more…..I never got to that stage, I politely told him to f*ck off.

On the plus side, I did receive an email about someone buying from me but as ever, his requirements are very bespoke and the last time I got an order like this it was a f*cking nightmare. It was an anniversary present for the customer’s husband and ended up costing me more than I made in profit. At least she liked the finished result, I f*ucking helped pay for it and the husband didn’t thank me either!

Michael


28
Oct 09

Jobseekers Allowance and Housing Benefit

There is once piece of advice I would give to anyone that has fallen on hard times and needs to claim benefits, only put in your claim when you are absolutley skint. This will ensure you receive benefits but the (at least) 3 month waiting time for the morons in Basildon (my case) to make a decision will no doubt f*ck you over anyway. However, I’d rather be f*cked for 3 months than indefinately.

You see, being an honest guy and having never claimed any benefits before in my life is no excuse for being an idiot. F*cking honest John here turns up with 8 large left in his company bank account and they think I shot the f*ucking Sherriff. I’d been tipped off about the 3 month waiting time, my job prospects were looking dimmer by the day and my company was hearmoraging money like it was Christmas and I thought…….get in early, be completely transparent….they’ll understand……did they f*ck.

My entire time in the Southend Jobcentre has been a nightmare, re-lived every fortnight, interrogated by a dickhead called Ian, who feels it is absolutely necessary to treat his ‘customers’ like dogs. Although, if I were as ugly as him, I’d be pretty pissed off too.

So, I recieved a phone call today informing me that my request for an overturn of the Basildon complex decision makers decision had been declined because I have money in my account. ‘F*cking where?’ I said…….She said, ‘you have 8 large in your account’ or words to that effect. I said, ‘I did in f*ucking July, its now nearly November’……anyway, to cut a long and miserable conversation short, they only consider any application for benefits at the time of the application. If you had money then, you have money now! and don’t even think about sending them up to date statements and stuff, they throw them away. They really do throw them away because they had a letter of complaint that I wrote, but conveniently not the current bank statements that were in the same f*ucking envelope.

Oh, and did I mention that if you’re rejected for Jobseekers allowance, you’re also rejected for Housing benefit? Well, you are, check f*ucking mate.

To summarise, when I heard I could claim benefits and how much I was entitled to, I couldn’t help wondering why there are so many people living on the streets but now I’ve been rejected of any benefits in what is a horrible system, unfair to anyone of integrity and lacking of any common sense or discretion, I now understand why people are homeless in this country. I’ll probably soon be joining them.

Michael