Showing posts with label New Year. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New Year. Show all posts
Wednesday, 2 January 2013
Friday, 6 January 2012
Time: Too Long On The Toilet
The freshly sliced seconds, minutes and indeed hours of 2012 speed past me, turning my future into my past without so much as a 'by your leave'. Time is passing me by at such a rate that I can almost hear the hiss as it squeezes itself through the air.
My 'future', so far ahead of me yet already considering retiring into my 'past', never seems to stick around long enough to make an impact as my 'present'.
I mean, come on! What is the purpose of a future if you can't use it as a present?
My future is infinite ... provided that I don't kick the bucket
My past is 52 years old and ageing rapidly.
My present?
Oh! There goes another one! And another ...
You see?
Presents go by so quickly that you can't use them!
Oooo! Did ya see that one?
I hate time!
There you go! That's my morning grump out of the way.
Let's talk some shit!
Erm, anyone done anything, ya know, wicked?
Have you been bad?
I did!
I ate far too much chocolate over Christmas and New Year.
Man!
That stuff really makes you wanna go.
It can keep you on the 'throne' for hours at a time if you over do it.
What?
Well it does!
My 'future', so far ahead of me yet already considering retiring into my 'past', never seems to stick around long enough to make an impact as my 'present'.
I mean, come on! What is the purpose of a future if you can't use it as a present?
My future is infinite ... provided that I don't kick the bucket
My past is 52 years old and ageing rapidly.
My present?
Oh! There goes another one! And another ...
You see?
Presents go by so quickly that you can't use them!
Oooo! Did ya see that one?
I hate time!
There you go! That's my morning grump out of the way.
Let's talk some shit!
Erm, anyone done anything, ya know, wicked?
Have you been bad?
I did!
I ate far too much chocolate over Christmas and New Year.
Man!
That stuff really makes you wanna go.
It can keep you on the 'throne' for hours at a time if you over do it.
What?
Well it does!
Sunday, 1 January 2012
That Was The Year That Was
... and this is the year that is!
I can't say that I can see any difference. Can you?
Apart from the odd dishevelled New Year reveller going home a la zombie, there was no one on the streets this morning at 06.45 am.
'cept me, of course.
Otherwise it would be a bit like that smart-arse question; Does a tree falling in the forest make a sound if there is no one there to hear it?
Does anyone walk the streets if there isn't a 'Symdaddy' to witness it?
Philosophy isn't my strong point. I'm more into Silly-osophy myself.
Anyway, I made it safely into the New Year with all my limbs and appendages intact and they were all in pristine condition!
Hope you all did too!
Welcome to 2012!
I can't say that I can see any difference. Can you?
Apart from the odd dishevelled New Year reveller going home a la zombie, there was no one on the streets this morning at 06.45 am.
'cept me, of course.
Otherwise it would be a bit like that smart-arse question; Does a tree falling in the forest make a sound if there is no one there to hear it?
Does anyone walk the streets if there isn't a 'Symdaddy' to witness it?
Philosophy isn't my strong point. I'm more into Silly-osophy myself.
Anyway, I made it safely into the New Year with all my limbs and appendages intact and they were all in pristine condition!
Hope you all did too!
Welcome to 2012!
Saturday, 31 December 2011
Happy New Year!
When you are all counting down the hours, minutes, then finally the seconds as you await the death of 2011 and the birth of 2012, think of me!
As the alcohol trickle becomes a torrent; as the jovial party mood turns to gut-spewing, raucous and arrest-warranting behaviour; as the globe spins and each time-zone belches out good wishes for the future; as fireworks around the world scare the shit out of everyone's cats and dogs ...
... I will be working!!!
Well, actually, I will be in bed ...if I'm lucky.
If I'm unlucky, I will be dealing with tantrums of a client who just can't understand what all the fuss is about.
The 'unlucky' scenario is the more likely of the two.
Anyway,
As the alcohol trickle becomes a torrent; as the jovial party mood turns to gut-spewing, raucous and arrest-warranting behaviour; as the globe spins and each time-zone belches out good wishes for the future; as fireworks around the world scare the shit out of everyone's cats and dogs ...
... I will be working!!!
Well, actually, I will be in bed ...if I'm lucky.
If I'm unlucky, I will be dealing with tantrums of a client who just can't understand what all the fuss is about.
The 'unlucky' scenario is the more likely of the two.
Anyway,
Happy New Year!
My next post will be in 2012. I hope you can survive the year without me!
Sunday, 2 January 2011
It Was Just Another Day
As I've already mentioned, I was working on New Years Eve so I didn't celebrate. As my client saw it as 'just another day' and went to bed, as usual, at 10 pm, I locked up the house, turned off the TV and settled down for the evening with my book.
At 11 pm the skies over Cardiff were it up by those over eager souls who couldn't wait until midnight to let off their paltry selection of cheap and nasty fireworks. I had a quick look out of the window but I wasn't impressed by what I saw. I knew immediately that Sydney Harbour's pyrotechnic display would once again over shadow anything Cardiff had to offer. It always does and always will.
In the years between my youth (when alcohol was denied me) and my more sober adult years (where I denied myself alcohol) I have attended many a wild and wicked party.
I imbibed with a passion that rarely allowed me to remember, let alone see, the celebrations at hand. Many a time I heard the clock strike midnight with my head halfway down a toilet bowl or in the custody of the local constabulary.
Those were the days, eh?
But I grew up ... eventually ... and became a none-drinker. A glass of bubbly, only at the appointed hour and only after a round of 'chinking' glasses, would be all that crossed my lips.
Many years before I began my examinations of toilet bowls - when I was still living in Newbiggin By The Sea (Northumberland) - I would roam from street to street, house to house, party to party picking up a rag-tag collections of friends and relatives en route and we would nearly always all end up at my aunt's house to see in the New Year.
In those days no one locked their front doors. You could pick a house at random, knock, walk straight in shouting 'Happy New Year!' and you were part of the celebration. No objections! No problems!
Someone would probably shoot you if you tried that nowadays.
Anyway, my point is that I no longer celebrate the change of the year as I once did. I, like my client, accept the 31st of December, and indeed the 1st of January, as 'other days' in my daily slog.
Truth be told, the new year is just a reminder of how old I am becoming and in March, I will receive another one accompanied by cards and choruses of 'happy birthday'.
These days, I would no doubt make a lousy party guest.
At 11 pm the skies over Cardiff were it up by those over eager souls who couldn't wait until midnight to let off their paltry selection of cheap and nasty fireworks. I had a quick look out of the window but I wasn't impressed by what I saw. I knew immediately that Sydney Harbour's pyrotechnic display would once again over shadow anything Cardiff had to offer. It always does and always will.
In the years between my youth (when alcohol was denied me) and my more sober adult years (where I denied myself alcohol) I have attended many a wild and wicked party.
I imbibed with a passion that rarely allowed me to remember, let alone see, the celebrations at hand. Many a time I heard the clock strike midnight with my head halfway down a toilet bowl or in the custody of the local constabulary.
Those were the days, eh?
But I grew up ... eventually ... and became a none-drinker. A glass of bubbly, only at the appointed hour and only after a round of 'chinking' glasses, would be all that crossed my lips.
Many years before I began my examinations of toilet bowls - when I was still living in Newbiggin By The Sea (Northumberland) - I would roam from street to street, house to house, party to party picking up a rag-tag collections of friends and relatives en route and we would nearly always all end up at my aunt's house to see in the New Year.
In those days no one locked their front doors. You could pick a house at random, knock, walk straight in shouting 'Happy New Year!' and you were part of the celebration. No objections! No problems!
Someone would probably shoot you if you tried that nowadays.
Anyway, my point is that I no longer celebrate the change of the year as I once did. I, like my client, accept the 31st of December, and indeed the 1st of January, as 'other days' in my daily slog.
Truth be told, the new year is just a reminder of how old I am becoming and in March, I will receive another one accompanied by cards and choruses of 'happy birthday'.
These days, I would no doubt make a lousy party guest.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)