A Reformed Moron?

So here I am, returning from the cyber wilderness to update you on the life and times of this, the most oafish moron that ever walked the land. Over the summer months I'll be updating you on my quest for love and employment, as well as filling you in on my dull day-to-day activities.


Since my last entry I have completed my university course and graduated with one of the most pitiful degree classifications ever known. I'm yet to meet someone who received a worse mark which I guess goes to show what a sad, underachieving piece of pond life I really am. 

OBUFC Moron Society on the road

The most interesting that occurred in the last few months was Tour 2011. A truly beautiful occasion for any Mayhemist. Some of the things I encountered was necking the famous 'Moonface' in a hedge, necking a scouser in a kebab shop, playing my penis like a guitar and getting thumped by a bouncer numerous times, Zoidy and I eating a camera, Gradzi and I punching each other in the face until we begged for mercy, dipping my head in a bowl of yoghurt in the hotel canteen, Suttos eating a lit cigarette, Father Jack taking a dump on a photo of Joe Kinnear, Billo telling women to get back in the sea, Janner bellyflopping from 15 feet into the pool and most sickeningly of all, a group of men and women stripping the sheets off a naked girl as she lay sleeping. And that is just a quick brainstorm of the moronic activities that took place. It was a truly beautiful week for anyone who truly loves Mayhem and being a moron, but those times are sadly behind me now and I must look towards my bleak future.


Until about a week ago I held a position as a cashier at a bookies, a sensational job for a man as bone-idle and lazy as I am, but for some bizarre reason I resigned to try and find graduate employment. However, by some miracle I am in the process of gaining full time employment and with any luck I will be living the dream in the next week or so.  This will be greatly valued, in part due to the fact that it will make it a hell of a lot easier to meet women. Over the course of my four years at university I alienated myself from almost every female that I crossed paths with because of my hideous appearance, cowardice, bizarre ramblings and borderline gambling, smoking and alcohol addictions. True misery.

I think the Nescafe was trying to tell me something

As always, I will briefly, and I emphasise briefly, talk about my quest for love which as usual is going absolutely no where. If anything things are as desolate as ever, and I have divulged in conversation with just one woman in a social environment in about a month. This just goes to show how many beans short of a salad I am, and the lack of women who want to talk to me. You don't need to comment telling me how pathetic this is.

Now the time has come to change what I am and possibly develop a new life for myself, the likelihood of this? Time will tell, but as a gambling man, if I had to put odds on it, I'd go with 100,000-1. Wow.


Well, I guess that's all for now. If you're ever feeling low, always remember reading this and I am sure it will immediately make you feel better.

A Whole New World of stupidity?

Here is the video of Freak 42's 'Whole New World'. What do you reckon?

The Nothingness Continues

So, I've been back at university for a week, and still no progress in any form of life. I must apologise for my lack of input in the last week. It's extremely pathetic of me as I have absolutely no excuse not to write.


Last Thursday Gradzi and I went for a night on the town. We headed to 'The Dodgy Deli', a place of worship in our town, and a place where crates of lager come cheaper than water. We proceded to drink the entire contents of a 24 pack of lager and a fair portion of a bottle of gin. To say that this was a mistake is an understatement. After a month of sitting on the sofa playing Football Manager, with limited contact with any form of human life, we were understandably on another planet. We went to the club neither of us remember anything that happened, except me getting dragged out on my hands and knees, for Gradzi to find me pole axed on the pavement outside, Gradzi then walked to his girlfriend's house in tears (probably because of the gin) and barried all over the floor (barry means vomit in our Mayhem language). Oh, and I forgot to add I strained my cruciate ligaments trying to kick down Gradzi's front door. Truly idiotic.


The next day I woke up with an absolute stinker of a hangover and this hadn't improved by the evening so once again Gradzi and I made an absurd decision - to go to the cinema together. We looked like a gay couple and watched a truly boring film, and skulked home afterwards to bed. On Saturday we went to the bookies and lost loads of money betting on the football.


Sunday was another nothing day but on Monday I travelled to London to meet some of the prophets of Mayhem, via a short trip to visit my friend Dr Zoidberg who was working at a rug shop. We went out for a burger and some drinks and I really did get a vision of a life that had evaded me for all of my 21 years, nearly 22, so far on this earth. It was enjoyable and civilised, and I thought to myself that this was probably the sort of evening that real people often have, and something I should try to accomplish more often. A true epiphany, if ever I'd had one. The next day though, I slumped back into my typical, moronic self. I travelled to Liverpool Street to meet another true moron (except he has a girlfriend so already, he is a better man than me) - The Tramp. We headed to the betting shop once again, and I spent £9 of the 20 I had to spend on beer on the electronic roulette machine in an act of pure idiocy. So with £11 in pocket we headed to our first pub of the day, and had a couple of pints. I'd made the effort to dress well for my first date with my beloved Arsenal in three years and Tramp even said I was "a changed man", which I guess goes to show how little he knows. We supped our beers before getting the bus to the next pub, and this dynamic until we reached the final pub, at Arsenal, where we spent £40 on beer between us. We were in a state of true Mayhem as we headed to the ground, where we watched Arsenal beat Ipswich Town 3-0 in a thoroughly eventless Carling Cup tie.


I headed back to my uni house and slumped back into my usual pattern of self loathing before going to sleep. Wednesday saw the return in one of the best aspects of my life - The OBUFC social. These events occur in a cold, grotty bar every Wednesday evening. We drink beer until we are sick, shout silly things and just generally be total and utter morons, before heading off to another night club and vulch (hunt) for women in another dank pit of a night club. This week we completed the centurion challenge, where we all consumed 100 shots of beer in 100 minutes. True Mayhem and true fun. Wednesday past and once again I failed to consume any form of ten bean salad, in fact, the only salad I even came close to was that in my kebab at the end of the night, and there were no beans in it.


On Thursday, Sleazy and I made a video of 'A Whole New World' from Aladdin, sang by us, as part of our newly formed band 'Freak 42' - What could be more fitting? This video has received some mixed feedback but so far no overly romantic advances from females. The weekend came and went, absolutely nothing happened and I now lie here in bed, ready for a week of uni lectures to start tomorrow. Something that will no doubt dampen my already thoroughly sodden spirits even further. Brilliant.

Turning the tide?

Here lies the transcript of a typical conversation with one of my friends, I've nicknamed him Sleazy for the process of blogging, but despite this he does remarkably well with the ladies, and could easily land himself a girlfriend if he wanted to, here is a typically moronic exchange about my plans for the coming months:


Sleazy: So targets for the year?
Fedsy: I dunno, I've tried everything. I think I might go back to my first year behaviour and need to be carried home from every night out, just be a complete lunatic. I'm so depressed about women at the moment, no matter how nice, how much of a chirpy chap I am, it doesn't work and i get women like queen. It's a vicious roundabout... (Brief pause) Life's all pain, mate, pain, rejection and gloom. I dunno what else I can do in my quest for a woman... (Another pause) What do you reckon? Spend all my money on new clothes? Dye my hair? Be horrible, treat em mean etc?
Sleazy: The nice guy works. Just confidence, maybe less of the lunatic...
Fedsy: I wasn't a lunatic last semester though. I changed completely who I am and it sickened me and 
still didnt work, wasn't worth lying to myself. Maybe I should pretend to be gay so they don't feel so threatened/ashamed of me.
Sleazy: Good lord, man! (Reconsidering) Doesn't sound like a bad idea, but I dont think they'd actually believe you were gay.
Fedsy: I'm just running out of ideas, and the women are running from me, so its a lose/lose sitch.
Sleazy: Maybe think less about it, don't worry and what comes will come.
Fedsy: Mmm, I think i have curbed that to some extent though, there's just no reversing the rep I've developed at uni now sadly. I'm seen as a joke, not in a bad way, but not in an attract a woman way.
Sleazy: You're seen as a pillar of greatness, but women don't appreciate a man who can vomit out of his eyeballs.


And at this point the conversation moved on.


Are there any key points in here? No. Does any of this conversation make sense? Of course not. But what it does underline is the desolateness of my situation and how, like Hal from Malcolm in the Middle, there simple is no escape from it.