Starting Again

My last (and indeed first) blog was in February. During this time, I have completed my highers, begun my next set of highers, accepted my Mum as a friend on Facebook, accepted Brodie as a friend, celebrated Chinese New Year, seen my elder brother go off to live with 4 Chinese blokes, and generally broadened my horizons as a human being.
  
Today, however, I intend to do something that will in fact narrow said horizons. Today, I shall be talking about Tumblr. For those of you fortunate enough not to have had to endure the constant photos of John Lennon, skinny girls in checkered shirts or overweight girls with the word 'Pain' etched onto their forearms, allow me to explain. Tumblr's sole purpose on our Earth is to let users put photos up. Theres nothing wrong with that, you may say. Unfortunately, as a rule, Tumblr users are total cunts. Most of them have long hair, and attempt to grow beards before they have hit puberty. Many of them write their own songs, usually about how their parents don't understand them, and how that the world would be so much better if it was ruled by vegetarians/women/the poor/the disabled. Users of Tumblr (Hereon referred to as 'Tumblcunts'), are often so far up their own backside, they make Ricky Gervais look like fucking Gandhi. 
  
Tumblcunts believe themselves to be 'Indie' and 'Hip', because they read the NME every week. As a result, they will have inane quotes along the lines of 'People that call you ugly are the ugliest people of all'. Unfortunately, these quotes not only give ugly people incredible false hope, it also serves to get other Tumblcunts in an unabated frenzy of excitement, as at last, they have found someone unique. Just like them. 

 Tumblcunts music taste is generally reserved to The Beatles, obscure American guitar bands who don't have a record deal because 'Music is from the soul' (In reality, because a dying industry can't afford to prop up utter shite like them), and The Smiths. If you like, say, dubstep, you will be chastised as a brainwashed modern child, and your opinion on all matters, be  they musical or not, will be irrelevant. After all 'Music shouldn't be made on a computer, man'. 
  
Politically, the Tumblcunts are very much out of their depth. Many turn to Che Guevara, as having his face on their wall makes them seem individual, just as it does on everyone elses Tumblr page. The right wing is an obvious no no (After all, having a picture of Maggie Thatcher on your dashboard will never, ever, be cool), and Nick Clegg is about as popular as Cervical Cancer at the moment, meaning that most simply stick to the line that the bands that they worship so much use: 'All politicians are cunts'. Around 65% of Tumblcunts, you will doubtless be shocked to know, are unemployed. Probably. 
  
To sum up, almost every single person with Tumblr, only uses it because they have an image to maintain. Tumblrs absence of any practical use ensures that it will never become a Facebook, or a Twitter, where normal people swarm in and ruin the websites indieness, meaning that it is a website populated only by people just like Morrissey. Who are unique. Obviously. 
  
Thats the end of this now. Once more, I owe writing this blog to extreme boredom and insomnia, so please do not hope for another one. Thats if you enjoyed reading it. Being perfectly honest, I dont know if it was enjoyable or not, but ah well. Feel free to comment and shit, but if anyone ever says 'I just saw your blog' I will have to fucking kill them. If you were offended by anything I've said, or insinuated in the above text, I urge you to man the fuck up and deal with it. Thanks. 
 

What to do during recovery?

Well its safe to say redtubes finest have done it again. But here comes the question that has been puzzling men for centuries. What to do during the recovery period until the next one? Like Renton in Trainspotting, mylife is just a series of events until the next hit, and unlike Mark Renton, I will certainly not being going cold turkey (Especially with that creepy baby on the celing. Creepy as fuck that. Non trainspotting viewers, dont worry, there is no baby on my roof). In this case, I've decided to write a blog, whilst listening to Radioheads new album. It will be mildly interesting to see which one I enjoy more, as as much as I like a few of their songs ('Karma Police', 'Everything in its right place', certainly not 'Creep'), I've never been quite sold on them. So far, my favourites are Lotus Flower, Morning Mr Magpie and Codex, in that order. But now I'm rambling.

So what to discuss in the blog today? Well, during the positively thrilling Business Management prelim today, we discovered that we can add chairs to never ceasing black hole of bitterness that is 'Things that Liam Daly hates'. Now I'm sure we all have sat on particular chairs we dont particularly like, but to hate chairs in general? That is truly something. As much as certain chairs dont neccessarily please by buttocks, I think its fair to say that as an ethnic grouping, chairs do rather well for themselves. We make them to sit on, and they fulfill that role admirably. Liams Goldilockslike dissatisfaction with something most view as OK will eventually lead him into trouble, and I'm counting my lucky stars he's not going to T in the Park this year. Amongst several thousand people bouncing to the Mau5, his dulcet Scottish tones inform us that, contrary to popular opinion, 'This is fuckin' pish'.
 
With the completion of the Bus Man prelim today, I now have no more exams left, meaning I get 5 days off till i'm back at school. During this period, I am fairly sure I will spend my days watching Inglorious Basterds on a constant loop. Y'know, cos its the best film of the last 10 years (Other than Toy Story 3, which, if we're all being honest, beat the original hands down). Meanwhile, all you pricks will be working. 'Get it roond ye' as Sam Robinson would say. At least until he was unable to speak after being knocked over by the wind or something equally pitiful, Tom Haywood maybe.
 
In other news, Partick Thistle lost in the Europa League semi final to PSV today, despite winning the first leg at Firhill 2-1, we lost 3-0 in Holland. I've spent 3 years building that team up, and nothing made me prouder then seeing Don Cowie lead the team off the pitch after that game at Firhill. Ever since bringing him in on a free in the summer 2011 transfer window, he has been an absolute gem for us, full credit to him and the boys for getting us to the CIS cup final and third place this year. My contracts up at the end of the year, and I've been strongly linked with the Malaga job, but I'm enjoying my time here, and despite the financial constraints I still feel I can add quality to this squad, and me and assistant Davie Weir will be scouring Europe for talent.
 
That concludes the blog for this evening, and probably forever, as to be frank, I'm only doing this because I'm bored off of my tits. If any of you cunts want to start a blog, be my guest, just dont bother telling me that it was me that inspired you to start it, as, to be frank, I dont give two shits about you or anything you have to say. Now fuck off.