I’ve got into this habit of running to the shop for a Milky Bar and a Slush Puppie. In Stratford-upon-Avon I started a bad new habit of running with a slush in my hand to keep cool. I do the same now on the way back from the shop.
When I was in buying my items the till person was being homophobic with this other wanker. Complaining about lesbians. Because it’s unnatural. And it’s obviously fucking up their day. I refused to talk to him at all when I got to the till. I just stood there drinking the slush to stop myself from mouthing off at him.
I find that type of conservatism pretty fucking ugly. People talk about ‘traditional values’ as if it means anything. Traditions change over the millennia. What’s acceptable now wasn’t acceptable in 2000BC. We only attach relevance to our times and our own sense of morality because we live in these times.
In 2000 years time we’ll look pretty fucking barbaric. We pray for Armageddon because the modern lifestyle of a death by a thousand credit cuts is intolerable compared to the big fucking asteroid.
Only way to stay sane in Northern Ireland is to keep out of the politics. On one side you have hate-filled ultra conservative lunatics and on the other you have horse murdering wankers who espouse social justice as long as you don’t identify as British.
If there was justice in the Universe Shergar would take flight as Pegasus and eat the beard off the evil hairy one. Shergar and Sylvia Plath team up against the malevolent forces of Ted Hughes and Gerry Adams through all the galaxies. Madcap antics. Shergar is powered by plastic explosives and he has to lick Adams’ coat for fuel. Sweet until it isn’t.
A match made in hell.
This blog was meant to be about running. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. An all time low.