Creating Buttock Crevices In The Sofa

Welcome back to my long awaited return to the blogging world. I am pleased to be back as it seems as if the angry mob of obsessive fans has waned and gone about their business of late so I am under no pressure to publish something quickly in order to satisfy the masses. Something that is less than the “quality” expected of me is just a reflection of me selling out and putting any old rubbish on here that is going to generate hits and comments. I happen to have principles, not many but I stand by the few that I have. One of those is not to give in to popular demand and public opinion. What I am trying to get at is I am not going to write on here just for the sake of writing. That is not the reason I started this blog. I wanted to vent my opinions and frustrations in a more comedic and fun way instead of standing in an empty room for 30 minutes screaming at the top of my lungs.

As the manager of a local Sunday football team I am constantly trying to keep everyone happy so that they all stay and play for each other. This responsibility has helped me to realise that not every opinion I possess may be the right one, or anyone else’s for that matter. Some things that I say or do immediately sound ridiculous in my head and don’t necessarily reflect my feeling at the time. It is as if I have some sort of emotional Tourettes syndrome where my mouth betrays my mind by bleating out concoctions of words that I would never say had my vocal chords given my brain time to process the consequences. In my home life I am much more relaxed and comfortable with how I conduct myself, until I am forced to bite my tongue when I am in earshot of a minor. I am constantly battling with my vocabulary limitations whenever I am around my nephew, niece or any of their little friends. I usually fill in the blanks of sentences with expletives, for instance; “where’s my *@!%ing wallet?” or the classic; “it’s *@!%ing cold in here.” I will allow your filthy minds to imagine the types of swear word used for these quotes. Around kids though, I would replace these with “flipping,” “chuffing” or “fucking.”

It is hard to believe that I am 28 years old and still this immature. I work hard to maintain this level of childishness and I try to keep my mind young, even if my body is fast becoming a vessel of strained muscles and aching joints. This is mainly due to my weekend commitments to the sport that I love. On a Sunday night I have done so much mentally and physically over the course of the weekend that my whole persona takes on the role of a geriatric warn down pensioner who likes nothing more than creating buttock crevices in the sofa with a blanket wrapped round me vaguely throwing food in the direction of my mouth whilst watching whatever happens to be on the telly at the time due to me being too lazy to locate the remote control. I really am that bad by the time Sunday evening draws in. I even ignore my kitty as he hovers above me on the back of the sofa catching the heat generated by the radiator behind. No matter how battered and bruised I get from football and how old my body feels as a result of it, I will always be young at heart and immature at mind.

I can’t help but have these thoughts pop into my head. Half of the stuff clanging around in there is benign and helpful to no one. It’s almost as if you could physically remove half of my brain and I would miss nothing. I wish I had a way to organise my thoughts and memories a little better than my current system of one in one out. It’s like my frontal lobe is the bouncer and only lets new stuff in if something else drops out. Who knows what vital information I have destroyed from learning that buttermilk doesn’t contain any butter? Maybe my only saving grace is the fact that there are some monumentally thick people out there that make me look relatively smart.

The opinions expressed in this blog are solely the opinions of the individual and don’t necessarily reflect those of the publisher, but as the publisher is the individual and this blog is all about the individual opinions of the publisher I guess the opinions expressed do reflect those of the individual and publisher. Thanks for reading...