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

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*'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