Friday, May 7, 2021

SINCERE APOLOGIES

Hi gang,

Just a brief post to let you know that I have cellulitis, and possibly mastitis, which is unpleasant and also a little embarassing, as mastitis usually happens to breastfeeding women. As we all remember from med school, "You can't spell 'mastitis' without 'tit.'" Fortunately it hasn't affected my nipple, it's more affecting the skin towards my armpit. I've had cellulitis before, but only affecting my feet, legs, abdomen and, on one memorable Christmas, my penis.

I saw the doctor today and he's hoping antibiotics will be enough to treat it, though apparently there's a black scab there and if that goes bad I'll have to go to hospital and have whatever's there sucked out of me. Here's to hoping that doesn't happen!

It doesn't really hurt but I keep getting really hot and I've been really tired for days now. I haven't been on Reddit for over a week, I think, and have been sleeping an inordinate amount. It's my favourite thing to do right now! I chalked it up to depression, and that's probably part of it too, but I'm glad there's an actual physical issue I can point at for feeling so tired all the time rather than just being all "I'm sad, leave me alone so I can shut my eyes and disengage from the world."

One of you beautiful Functionistas recently commented that I'm too hard on myself, and maybe you're right, if I read that someone else was tired all the time I wouldn't judge them for it, and if they told me they were depressed then I would be understanding. It feels like there's a part of me that's always ready to kick me when I fall, to dwell on my failures and inadequacies and make me feel worse about myself, to remind me that I'll always be the kid that would be picked last, or not told there was a game on to begin with. I imagine most people have that voice, but it must be louder for some than others. I guess that's what depression is.

Wow, this ended up being a lot bleaker than I intended! Just letting you know that it may not be quick, but when I'm feeling better I'll be back into The Leprechaun's Game! My friend Julie recently complimented my writing and suggested that I might have a future writing professionally! I was hugely flattered, and whilst I can't see myself making a living that way I was encouraged to reach out to ChampDog Films to see if they would let me write the novelization of The Leprechaun's Game. I do have another idea for a writing gig if they reject me, but I'm holding out hope!

Peace!

 ✌   🌈💰🍀

Wednesday, May 5, 2021

THERE ARE NO WINNERS IN THE LEPRECHAUN'S GAME

 Hello Mal-Pals! Those of you who familiar with my blog know that it has two primary functions: To showcase some of the dirty fiction I write to entertain myself and my friend Strict Julie, and as a dumping ground for whatever is taking up space in my noggin. Well, that's all about to change, as this blog is now a dedicated stan site for 2020's video nasty The Leprechaun's Game!

Scary! The leprechaun in the movie is actually blonde, which is less effective.

I watched this movie in the wee hours of this morning and found myself utterly delighted by it! Most modern horror is slow, generic and not worth your time. The few real stand outs of recent years are either weighed down with a horrible depressing backstory, usually involving the death of a kid, or are coated with a level of irony or silliness as if the makers need to reassure watchers that they're in on the joke and their film shouldn't be taken seriously. It's refreshing to see someone step up to the plate and swing for the fences, even if they do completely biff it!

I  never watch trailers as I find they always detract from my enjoyment of the film. I decided to watch this based purely on the misleading official synopsis, the intriguing poster, and a couple of details hinting that this film wouldn't be bad in the sense that it was a time wasting drudgery, but would hit that "so bad it's good" sweet spot where the film's flaws are entertaining enough to elevate the film above your average slasher or mediocre studio comedy. Plus, horror is a strange genre; even the lamest grindhouse flick can have a concept or special effect that stays with you after the credits roll.

The main thing that intrigued me was that the film has a running time of exactly eighty minutes. I don't know about you, but to me that screams "minimum viable product," someone determined to fulfil the necessary requirements for a feature length film without worrying too much about things like quality acting or realistic dialogue. "Servicable" seems to be the kindest adjective to describe most elements of this schlockfest! I was also tempted by the unheard actors that made up the British cast and the fact that the film was released elsewhere as "Vengeance of the Leprechaun" and "Vengeance of the Leprechaun's Gold." I honestly enjoyed every minute of it. The trailer gives you some idea of the gold you can find if you follow this particular rainbow:


The official synopsis doesn't really do the plot justice. Spoliers ahead! Here is the editorial review Amazon has for the film:

After a bunch of thieves are sent out to hunt urban legends, they steal the gold of a leprechaun, only to find there is a steep price to pay.

Monday, May 3, 2021

9 THINGS I'D POST ON TWITTER, IF I STILL USED TWITTER, VOLUME SIX

Six weeks since I got my second COVID vaccine and I'm doing fine! Please get yours too.P

Appearing on Chopped 420 to "tell your friends all over that ganja is medicinal and you can use it to enhance the quality of your life" is like appearing of Songs of Praise to let people know about our saviour, Jesus Christ.

I imagine Songs of Praise is one show that really had to switch it up when COVID happened!

I am learning a lot from Chopped 420 though; who'd have thought that Ron Funches smoked weed?

What are the odds on a kid called Laganja Estranja growing up to become a cannabis rights activist?

Can you get a contact high watching people cook with weed or am I feeling the effects of my whiskey and morphine? #AnswersOnAPostcardPlease!

Words, Santa, Moms, Grandpa, Moms Christmas, Parents, Education, Santa 2, Teacher - My ranking of the Bad comedies.

So there's a Time Lord named The Doctor and another named The Master. Does that imply there's another called The Bachelor? Or The Drop-Out? I like to think he'd have the coolest TARDIS.

In 33 years I've only had two people tell me they thought I might be autistic. One was my closest, most honest confidant and the other was a mental health doctor I was struggling to express myself to in hospital. Still, not enough data to form a pattern!

Saturday, May 1, 2021

MY LIFE AS A BASKET CASE; MENTAL ILLNESS & THE WORST THING I EVER DID

I've been putting this off all week. Well, to be honest, I've been putting this off since I've started writing this blog. I've been treating this blog a little bit like a therapist; I just unload whatever I'm thinking and try and get things clear in my head. I'm not spiritual, I don't believe there's a will to the universe, or genuine karma, balance or justice. That said, we're all the stars of our own little stories, and from our perspective the events we experience are all connected purely because they all happened to us. So whenever life deals me a bad hand, and I crash the company van, or get taken to hospital with swollen, infected legs, or wake up to find ants crawling over me, there's always a voice in my head going "Well, there was that one time you fucked your entire life up. Maybe you deserve this."

Now that I've written this fucking thing, it occurs to me that people I like read this blog, and that friends I make in the future may read this too. I hope that the actions I write about here don't literally repulse you away from me, and that you can appreciate I am a different person now than I was over a decade ago. Maybe don't read this if you don't want to see me at my worst!

Before I get to that, I owe my friend Julie an apology. I didn't proof read my last post before submitting it and did not express myself as well as I am able. The story I last posted was the first one I ever wrote specifically for her, not intended as a comment to her blog. I talk to Julie and about Julie in a manner unique to her; it took a little pushing by her to get me comfortable referring to her using language that is derogatory or misogynist. It's language Julie uses to describe herself; I recall her referring to herself as "Queen Slut" in the comments of a recent post. Obviously language is a tricky thing and intent is everything; if a third party seriously called her that I would be most unhappy. If her husband called her that whilst she was blowing him I'd be most entertained.

Communicating with and about Julie is tricky; I know if I write about her here she'll read it, but this is essentially a public place. Writing on her comments page can be tricky; Julie almost responds to comments as if she is two different characters, with Strict Julie responding to comments on posts where she's mainly a domme, and Sub Julie responding to comments where she's mostly a femsub. Obviously there's a little blurring of the lines, but she'll let readers get away with more on comments to some posts than on others. Plus she can be very coarse and derogatory in the way she describes herself; it's something that Miss Chris picked her up on when visiting for the first time. Of course, she obviously has a role to fulfil herself. Obviously e-mailing Julie directly is when I can be the most honest or the most fake, writing something that will titillate her without worrying about how a third party will react. There are other times when I'll start to write her an e-mail but realise she'll get more of a kick discovering my words here and wondering who else has read them, or in the comments of her blog where her fans will appreciate them and join in the fun. It can be a little complicated!

In my last post I listed a bunch of terms I've used to excite her since she's given me the go ahead to talk dirty. I wasn't trying to offend, but when she quoted my own words back to me it's clear that listing such harsh, derogatory terms without context was an unkind thing to do. Furthermore, I realised my words could be interpreted to mean that I no longer care for her, which I hope is self-evidently untrue. I care for her a great deal. I just know she'd rather be shamed and humiliated a little rather than being treated like she might break. I sincerely apologise.

Wednesday, April 28, 2021

MY GRANDPARENTS, PLUS SOME STRICT JULIE FANFIC!

 I'm really not sure what to write about my grandparents. They were incredibly warm and loving people and made me feel truly special. I have a very vague memory of them living in a different part of town when I was very young, but for the most part they lived a short walk of ten or fifteen minutes away, bearing in mind I was a child and my brother Jason is four years younger than me. This was a quiet rural town in the early nineties, I guess nobody thought twice about two kids walking around on their own. They probably should have; I remember a kid a couple of years older than me who was in my Scout troop for about two meetings with me, getting run over by an articulated truck. This was a good kid, before the marine took over and corrupted the whole thing! Another kid a couple of years younger than me had his nose broken by a bus. My brother and I were fine though.

Not that Gramps didn't worry! He had a police scanner that he could hardly make out, and if there were any reports of missing kids anywhere in the county we would get a call making sure we were okay! Actually, my favourite of Gramps' quirks involved the phone; he used to dial 1471 compulsively, with the phone on loudspeaker. A robotic woman's voice would tell you the last number to call you and when, something like "Telephone number oh five double five three, four seven two, eight six one called today at fifteen twenty-five hours. To return the call press 3. There is usually a charge for this service." Gramps would wait for the robot to finish speaking every time, and then thank it warmly. God knows what he'd have made of Siri or Alexa!

Nan was a proper old school housewife; she would spend hours in her tiny kitchen whilst Gramps kept us entertained playing blackjack and rummy. Never for anything more than bragging rights, though one or the other would slip me and my brother some pocket money once a week. Gramps would buy me The Beano every week as well. Nan would always have a Tupperware container full of what are undoubtedly the best fruit scones I've ever had, and she was a fantastic pasty maker, as all Cornish women should be!

My parents didn't like Gramps driving us anywhere because his eyesight was failing and his car didn't have seatbelts in the back. We'd often go around theirs with a video, usually something Mum and Dad had taped off the telly. I remember watching the Naked Gun trilogy a whole load of times and then being mortified watching them years later and understanding all the dirty jokes!

Sunday, April 25, 2021

IS TODAY MY ROCK BOTTOM?

A fun quiz question for all you punk rockers out there: What do I have in common with the 6th album from Guttermouth?

The album in question

Saturday, April 24, 2021

FEELING DOWN

 I don't have anything specific I want to write about today, I'm certainly not feeling creative enough or sexy enough to post anything particularly erotic. Maybe I'll dig something out of my e-mail outbox. I don't know. I don't like going more than a couple of days without posting anything because I know what I'm like; a couple of days without posting will turn into a week, and then a week into a couple of months, and before you know it I'll be a guy who used to write a blog.

My main news this week has been my Grandad, my mother's father and my only surviving grandparent, fell over one evening this week and had to go to hospital. He lives by himself in Wales, he called Mum's older sister in Bristol to tell her what had happened and she called my mum. He has three daughters and Mum lives the furthest from him, she's also the most sensible. She rang 999 and explained that he was alone, had heart problems and may have banged his head. This was 8pm. The paramedics came and took him off the floor at 2am! Grandad called a friend from church who sat with him all that time. He's okay, but rattled, and ready to accept that at 85 he may need a little more help than he used to!

Grandad's a real character; he'll take an interest in everything and everyone and find a story to tell out of any interaction. I think he had around 40 or 50 different jobs in his life time! Over the past couple of months he's taken to calling me on a Tuesday with two or three different stories from his life, asking me to guess which ones are true. They're always all obviously true, and I always guess that he's lying, saying things like "No, that can't have happened to you, you must have seen that in a sitcom" or "Maybe something like that happened to you, but that sounds too extraordinary, I think you're pulling my leg a little." He's always dead pleased to have fooled me!

Sometimes my Mum has heard these stories, sometimes she hasn't. It makes me wonder what anecdotes my parents have that I don't know about. I don't think he was an easy father to have, he has a very short temper and can be very stubborn. My dad refuses to speak to him after some row or other. Mum did a great job calling the hospital and the Red Cross and social services, and although he's gone home they're going to be checking up on him and offering him help. He needs it.

Wednesday, April 21, 2021

9 THINGS I'D POST ON TWITTER, IF I STILL USED TWITTER, VOLUME FIVE

I know it's been around forever, but is the name of the show The Amazing Race supposed to be a play on the song Amazing Grace? And is it a show about white people?

This Is Us, This Is My House, This Is A Robbery... How about This Is An Entertaining TV Show, huh folks? #IsThisThingOn?

One in three teachers plan to quit, says National Education Union survey. I guess the other two lack ambition?

Idea for a cooking show: Ordinary people are given a year to learn how to make one simple dish, stuff like burger, fries and coleslaw; eggs, bacon and toast; jacket potato with cheese and butter. They can spend the year researching and travelling and sampling the world's best ingredients. Whoever does best wins $1,000,000, the show is called million dollar meal!

Tonight on Apple TV: A very special episode of Doug Unplugs find Doug put in a difficult position when his best friend Emma needs life support.

I'd love to see a map of Britain coloured by what percentage of teenagers in each area know how to fuck a sheep. Is it something that all kids learn or is it just those in the rural areas? Who's looking into how that knowledge is spread?

I'm enjoying the reboot of Kung Fu. It's good to see a woman in a role that would traditionally have gone to a panda.

Can't believe HBO gave Mark Wahlberg a documentary about his business dealings, and not his teenage years as a violent racist PCP addled bully and thug who was convicted for attempted murder but only spent 45 days in jail after being given a two-year sentence, asking some of his former victims how they feel about him becoming the world's highest paid movie star. That I'd watch.

Whoever coined the phrase "nursing a drink" obviously never spent a night out with actual nurses.

Monday, April 19, 2021

RIP D OF E, BUT WHAT'S IT GOT TO DO WITH ME? PART TWO

Hey there! Regular Functionistas will know that I don’t really make an effort to maintain relationships. My life can be pretty much divided into a series of chapters, and as I move from one stage to the next I pretty much refrain from looking back. I don’t know what happened to anyone I talk about in today’s post after I turned nineteen; I saw some of the guys at a house party/sleepover thrown by another friend during the holidays of my first year of university. I hope they’re all doing well and that life hasn’t been too hard on them.

That being said, after writing yesterday’s post I got to thinking about the worst kids from my Scout troop. I can’t remember the surname of the marine so can’t look up his son. I do remember the name of the cub leader’s son; and was not surprised to learn he’s been given at least four jail sentences, maybe more. He’s been found guilty of drug dealing, robbery, assault, criminal damage and behaving in a racially motivated manner. I was surprised to read his older brother, also in my scout troop and one of the nicer ones, was also sentenced to prison. This was a couple of years ago, he was the same age as I am now. His story sounds weirdly similar to mine, except he was addicted to drugs rather than suffering a physical ailment.

It sounds like he screwed up bad at some point but was given a second chance, working a respectable job for a celebrity chef, but when he was sentenced it said he had no fixed abode, like me, that he’d committed a number of petty thefts, like me, and that he stole mainly from the Co-op, like me! The main difference was that he’s been seen in court more than fifty times and that he was found guilty and sentenced.

This maybe lets you know the sort of shit I was used to dealing with at secondary school and in my extra curricular activities. There really wasn’t anywhere for kids to hang out and be kids - no cinema, skate park, fast food outlets, shopping centre… anywhere normal teens go to socialise. When I started travelling to VIth form I originally kept myself to myself, spending free time in the excellent library. It didn’t take long before I started making friends in class and then being invited to go hang out at the bowling alley, the shops or the local park. It was genuinely a nice surprise to find that I liked just about everyone I met at VIth form and was well liked in return. This was true in my various classes and at DofE, where I didn’t know anyone but found myself in a group of five, ready to fulfil the Expedition requirements of the Gold award.

There was me, Joey, Johnno, Trudge and Bowser. Joey was a farmer’s son. He was originally from out of county but spoke with a broad local accent. The last time I saw him was at that house party; his presence there was awkward as he had lost his job when his employers found images of underage girls on his laptop. He said he was innocent but restored the computer to factory settings and wrote over the hard drive before handing it back. Johnno went to a local secondary school and was pretty popular outside the club, he had a really easy going nature that made him easy to get along with. Trudge was a year older than us and had a mischievous streak; like me he made a lot of jokes and knew just how far to take things without getting into trouble. He flirted a lot with one of the supervisors; a girl named Jess that could only have been a couple of years older than us. Finally there was Bowser, another local boy I’ve mentioned before. He went do a different local school than Johnno and did know plenty of people there, but we had to form groups between four and seven people and people who knew him better than us knew not to take him! He was a nice kid but awkward; he always looked kind of greasy and wore an Iron Maiden t-shirt and a leather jacket. He was too earnest for his own good and made a lot of bold declarations, two qualities sure to make you the butt of the joke when you’re dealing with bored teenage boys. I remember when Pope John-Paul II died Bowser said that John-Paul was one of the most common names for a pope. My friend Squelch immediately pointed out he was only the second one.

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