Yeah Mutha Hubbard!

8 12 2011

Little ditty for you;

Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard
To fetch her pooor doggy a bone.
But when she bent over
Along came Rover
Who gave her a bone of his own.

What do you think? Personally I think it’s one of the funniest rhymes going. This situation isn’t helped much by the fact I’ve been drinking (and intend on continuing to do so), but never fear… or fear, whichever you feel most comfortable with, I shall try to make sense.

Why am I drunk (although I’d say I’m a bit tipsy but that doesn’t sound as good) blogging? Because that’s what all the cool kids are doing, like smoking, doing drugs, and possibly having sex. Ok I’m not doing those things but maybe if I drink enough those things will happen too.

I can live in hope. Mostly cuz I’ve gotten too used to living in despair. But that’s beside the point.

So what pearls of wisdom do I have to dispense from my oyster of verbosity? Umm, I guess it’s about the joys of still wishing I didn’t exist and just daydreaming about suicide. Of course I don’t enjoy thinking these things, particularly the thoughts about how much of a failure I am for not making good on what I said I’d do, and that’s probably why I’m drinking. Yet here I am, still doing what I do, looking to get blitzed n just thinking ‘Fuck it. Fuck everything’ because as much as I might think things, there appears to be fuck all I can do to make things better, either for myself or for anyone else.

Yeah I know, lots of self pity, or just plain pity in general, but hey, what does it matter? We’re all allowed a little self indulgence every now and then aren’t we? If not then fuck the rules, I’m gonna do it anyway because I wanna even though I know it’ll make no difference whatsoever. Will anything? Yet to be convinced.

Time to dive back into that bottle as I tend to sober up quickly and I gotta be honest, sobriety is looking mighty fucking shite at the moment. Join me why doncha (nowt wrong with a bit of group enablement).




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