Oh, thumb.

Oh, thumb. You've been hurting for far too fucking long, thumb. I am starting to lose my patience, thumb. And everytime I move you, all your little bones and cartilage bits and tendons slide back and forth into and out of place with a distressing grinding click, thumb. Which hurts, thumb. And also feels extremely disturbing, thumb. Everytime I need to open a door, hold the guitar, lift up something or do anything ever, thumb. Do you know how long you've been doing this, thumb? It's two weeks, thumb. Two weeks. Oh, thumb. You are a cunt.





I fucking miss my girlfriend. Thumb is cunt, miss girlfriend. Just finished all work in world. Three in morning. Need lie down time.


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It Just Hit Me

It's nearly summer.
Do you know what, I haven't made a big deal about this in a while.

So NOW I WILL.

IT'S NEARLY SUMMER, YOU BEAUTIFUL ASSBITCHES OF SATANBALLS DEATHSHIT AAAAAAAAAH!
Do you know what this means?! This means the sun, this means love and madness and people dancing when and where they ought not be! This means people who we thought lost! This means green grass and hot fire! This means drinking cheap rose even though we have money for better! This means laughing upside down on rocks and the sand and rocks and trees and dirt becoming a world of splendour! This means new acquintances and old music! This means my Jess! This means Jacob and Alex and Jess and Molly and Baz and Katie and Merlin and Ish and Codie and every single fucker in Hastings! This means mornings lurching about the room in underwear, half dead from the night before with the guilty pleasure of tonight on our tongues like tabs of acid! This means thing that I can't even THINK OF RIGHT NOW!

This means music and wine. Get on it, people.

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(The kisses are so big 'cause of all that love I'm in)

Mess

I am a huge, heaping, endless mess of odd contentment. And with that sentence I greet me blog. Howdy :)

Welp, I have a mild hangover which is nestling itself beneath a curtain of drunk so I'm listening to happy music and being as melodramatic as I can. I think I was genuinely more hungover earlier. Toying with the notion of shotting a bit of Millie's overproof rum to feel better, but I know it's a bad idea. The problem with bad ideas is that they're always so hopelessly attractive.

Last night was quite awesome, a girl from my course with green hair plied me with tequila and chatted with me for hours whilst the birthday girl got pissed, took various members of both sex to her room and passed out in that order. It was an overall positive experience. I also found out that one of my uni acquintances is heavily into breakcore. We were chatting about ATR for some time, and when someone tried to interrupt she screeched 'GO AWAY, WE'RE BONDING!' at them. I think she's about to escalate from uni acquintance to uni friend.

Anyway, I ramble at you and then give you some music, oh blog. 'Tis kinda our 'thing'. So I shall indulge you :)




I'd listen to that song iffin I were you. It's fuckin' awesome.

What else happened in recent events? BANGFACE.
Yes, Bangface. It happened. For the third year running. AND IT WAS MY FAVOURITE.
IT KICKED SO MUCH ASS THAT EVEN THESE CAPITAL LETTERS CANNOT FULLY EXPRESS THE MAGNITUDE OF MY GLEE.
Only this picture can do that.


Yes, that is me having a drunk-nap on a man dressed as a dinosaur who's so fucked that drugs are literally falling back out of his nose.

I liked him. He was cool.

I just remembered! Today's hangover has a name! It's called 'Big Bag of Meat That Bees Can Eat'. 'Tis a quote. From this song here :)



I just shotted some of that overproof rum exactly like I knew I shouldn't. It was fucking awful :(

Anyway, despite all of this brilliance of events, all is not well in Kieranland. And it's primarily because this one is missing:



She's my favourite and she's not here :(

Do you know what sucks? Distance. I actually, in fact, once wrote a haiku on the subject of distance for my Creative Writing coursework.

Yes, I have to write haikus for coursework. That's a thing now.

Anyway, I should probably leave. I can't think of what to say, I miss my girlfriend, my throat hurts from that rum I just shotted, I like complaining and Homage to Patagonia is playing. What an awesome song. :D

Even writing that bit was an experience in all emotions. Guilt, anxiety, anguish, pain, wry amusement and then sheer joy. Also, writing that sentence made experience all them emotions again in that order. I'm rather suggestible today.

Love, dove and shove me dears.

Me loves, me darlings, me dears :D

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