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.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday!

I sit here in my usual blogging spot, in a pair of stolen football shorts and a green polo shirt, watching episode after episode of Malcolm in the Middle, and as usual, relating it to myself. If I was to be compared to any character on this timeless show it would have to be Hal; a destitute, helpless man trapped in his uneventful life, with little to no chance of escape. One quote of his that will live with me for quite some time  is "the only way I've got through my crappy little life is by living in denial", and these are words that resonated well with me when I first heard them, and have significantly contributed towards my philosophy on life, yet this philosophy is probably what keeps me sliding agonisingly further away from my goals, but until those goals are achieved, I will continue on the downward spiral that is living in denial about the true state of my current situation. By current, I mean, the last five years.

Fingers crossed

Today I have gambled away the last £6 in my bank account on any football match that catches my eye. This has led me to bet on the highly prestigious fixture Bassana Virtus v Paganese, amongst others. Truly thrilling. The aforementioned fixture was probably comparable in terms of quality to my life; woeful. The Premier League was the scourge of my finances, Liverpool to draw with Everton was the one result I didn't need, the one result that meant I couldn't win any bet, but guess what the result I got was? Liverpool 2-2 Everton. Fantastic. However, Qatar have just beaten Kuwait 3-0 (another thriller, I'm sure!) meaning if Real Madrid, Barcelona, Porto and AC Milan win I'll get a juicy little win of £30. It's little beads of hope like this that keep me going through each day, but no doubt my mood come ten o'clock will be one of rage, disappointment and regret - a truly miserable cocktail of emotion, and if I could compare it to an alcohol, I'd have rage as gin, disappointment as sambuca, and regret as tequila. Try it, it's vile.

Other than that today has been a thoroughly vegetative day, in which I have only moved from the sofa to go to the bathroom (a meagre six yards away, I just counted) and to make infinite cups of coffee in the kitchen (ten yards from the sofa and twelve yards from the bathroom), utterly slothful and if there truly are seven deadly sins then today I've committed at least four.


A quick update in my quest for love. Well, I have to admit, there is no update. Unless looking at eligible women on Facebook counts as progress(?) I have nothing to contribute on this front. Nor to that in my vain search for fame and fortune. So all in all, the sub heading of this blog is a lie, as 'my quest for love, fame and fortune' is nothing short of a non-existant farce. Pitiful.


Over and out x

Family Time

A rare day of activity today, but also, a day in which I can offer you a perfect insight into my family life. For Christmas we had had a family portrait session organised for us with a local photographer. The decision was undertaken at some point in the afternoon about what to wear, I went for a 'slim fit' white shirt, as this was the only formal wear I had brought home from uni with me. I put it on and as I stepped out into the hallway I was halted by my stepmother who stated "you look like you're about to burst out of that shirt"; she didn't mean this as a compliment. I've heard worse insults from women before, but my stepmother is fully aware of this so tends not bring me down too much. Highly compassionate. However, because of this fact I knew I had to change the shirt. I went for a normal fitting reddish/pink number that was too long, but shielded the world from my figure slightly better. At this point I must emphasise that my BMI is actually around the 25 mark, on the border of healthy and overweight, so I am by no means 'a porpoise', as Weylan likes to describe fat people.

The Fedsy Family?

The next incident came in the kitchen when my father, fresh from an afternoon of playing the crossword, entered. Stepmother asked him what he was going to wear "this'll do, won't it?" he replied. He was wearing a tatty blue jumper and stained trousers. This was one of those moments that I saw where some of my pathetic attributes come from. Even I know to put a shirt on for a family photo! Though however insignificant this moment was, for some reason it will be one I will always remember about my father.

Upon arrival at the photoshoot were seated in the waiting area. Jemimayhem ran around like a lunatic which brought a degree of happiness to me. To see someone who's spirit had yet to be crushed by the weight of this callous world was quite nourishing to my gloom-ridden eyes.

Now, of course, no blog of m.i.n.e would be complete without underlining some of my moronic and pathetic moments throughout the day, and the first of these was in the Indian restaurant this evening. As I approached the establishment I thought to myself 'I know, I'll try something different tonight', I often have these thoughts but when it comes down to it and the waiter asks what I want I um and arr and end up stating "I just think I'll have a korma". Tonight was different however, and what a mistake I made! The curry almost sizzled as it touched the tip of my tongue, and three beers accompanied my meal - always a sign that the spice is simply too much. Now this on it's own wouldn't be such a bad thing, but my vision of myself as a hopeless buffoon was rubber stamped when I looked out of the corner of eye to see three of the waiters giggling as I coughed and wept through the meal. Simply so undignified, but nothing on what was to follow on the way home...

Around this time last year I took a real liking to a girl at uni, and inevitably, this ended in heartbreak in my most dramatic 'so near, yet so far' moment yet (The number of these moments throughout my life will become apparent as the blog goes on). The sadness of the situation still gets to me on a daily basis, but what was to happen on the 20 minute journey home was nothing short of deplorable. I sat in the back seat listening to 'The Flood' by Take That on my iPod, and my mind went wandering, as it often does when I listen to music. However, this particular daydream centred around me taking the girl who broke my heart to the Take That reunion tour for her birthday, with several little sideshows and sound bites along the way (all completely innocent, yet obviously massively romantic). I was snapped out of the daydream by a text message about the football, and within seconds of reading it I was mentally cursing myself for the feeble, pitious thoughts that had been running through my head in the two or three minutes preceding the text.

'Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage' - The lyrics of The Smashing Pumpkins could not be a more fitting note to finish todays blog on. So accurate and relative to my day.

Eight days until uni and a social life return! Come on Fedsy!x

Another day of nothingness

Grade 8 Vuvu player

Today has been a typical day in my life, lounging around in my dressing gown watching DVDs of films I've seen several times before. I currently lie here watching The Wicker Man, a true classic, and of course, the original version. Surely a film bornout of the mind of an utter mayhemist. I got up at 13.24 this afternoon, a typical thing for me to do during my time away from university as there is simply nothing else to do and the other mundane activities that have filled my day have included playing the vuvuzela with my young sister Jemimayhem, cooking a lunch that has left me feeling decidedly unwell and harassing women on BBM as I continue in my quest to get a girlfriend by the end of 2011.


As I am not at work today, my interaction with any sort of human life is utterly pathetic, and therefore if anything, I am slipping further from my aims for the year. These include getting a respectable job, finding a woman, passing my degree at university and leaving this dank, dull, depressing pit of a town forever. I had a conversation on the phone with my friend Gradzi this morning in which we discussed the pending relationship statuses of various acquaintances and how disgusted we were by them. My disgust was born purely of jealousy, but hey ho, if you can't join them, be embittered by them. Great motto that, yet bitterness and jealousy are probably traits that aren't entirely desirable for women. Something to work on then...

Latest news from Camp Boredom

During the Christmas holidays from University I reside in a festering pit of a town and work part time at a fast food establishment. As anyone at uni will tell you, time in the holidays almost goes backwards as you await to head back to the Mayhem of student life. So, with the inevitable depression that this entails, each positive moment is a beaming ray of sunlight into the gloom of everyday life. Todays post attempts to outline this point:

Day 25 at Camp Boredom.

My shift today was only seven hours. Not unbearable, but not my idea of fun. I was working on the drive-thru lane, hilarious, I know, but this is actually the perfect spot for playing my famed game 'Would I fuck?*' and predictably, this led to the highlight of the shift. A VW Golf pulled round the corner, and what do I lay my eyes upon? Four sumptuous ten bean salads**. My favourite of the salads was blond, blue eyed, nice teeth with a great jawline and cheekbones, and trendy, indie sort of clothes. So perfect. I smiled and thanked the heavens, and remarkably, she smiled back! A genuine, friendly smile. Obviously I was too cowardly to say
anything witty or flirty, but still, progress in my mind. Apart from that glorious moment I spent my time trying to decide whether to renew Nathan Delfouenso's contract on Footy Manager, thinking up new songs for OBUFC***, and thinking the 'happy thoughts' that are going to become reality in just under two weeks, when I return to the holy land.

Yours truly,

Fedsy x

_________________________________________________________________________

*'Would I fuck' is basically where you identify females and decide in your head whether or not you'd fuck them. Quite pathetic, I know, but it does make the time pass slightly quicker

**The moron's term for a beautiful lady

***Oxford Brookes University Football Club

The Introduction of the Moron

Here lies the record of Fedsy, a 21 year old student but one who doesn't hold anything in regard except for having fun. Inevitably this has led to many weird and wacky situations, some of which I'm not entirely proud of. The religion of Mayhem is very important to this particular moron and I hold my attitude towards it directly responsible for nearly every funny or exciting situation I've been in for about two years now. I have begun this blog to share with the world the account of a hopeless, idiotic man and his quest of love, fame and fortune.