No, it’s not alright

Regular visitors to this site will have noticed that I’ve not been updating it much lately. The problem was, I thought, that I had been too busy. Work was taking up more of my time than it used to, and despite the fact I’m unpleasant to everyone I know, I still seemed to end up socialising at a level that could almost be described as frequent. When you add that to eating, washing, and exercising daily, that basically left me with no time.

So I just carried on, unaware there was a problem, and accepting that it was just a busy period in the belief that things would eventually settle down. Like a man with a serious heart complaint who writes off his chest pain as indigestion, I ignored the symptoms of what was, as I now know, a serious and horrible condition.

About a month ago, I went to see the film 300. Nothing strange about that. The evening passed without event. Nobody in the cinema annoyed me, none of the adverts was especially stupid, and I moderately enjoyed my popcorn. The film finished, and we all left quietly. “That was alright” I said to my friend. He agreed. My girlfriend agreed too. Everyone agreed. It was alright.

A couple of days later, I saw Jimmy “Don’t see 300” he said “it’s fucking shit”.

Was it? I didn’t think it was shit, I thought it was alright. “I thought it was alright” I said.
“You’re wrong, it was shit, I’ve been waiting 6 months for that film, and then they gave me that. It was shit”

It was left at that, but I kept thinking about it. Was it really shit? And, if was shit, wouldn’t I have noticed it was shit? And after a lot thought, I realised. Not only was it shit, it was monumentally shit. It was groundbreakingly shit. And No, I hadn’t noticed. I hadn’t noticed at all. And this scared me.

The more I thought about it, the more other things started to bother me. The adverts were shit too. And the guy sat two rows ahead of me had a stupid voice and wouldn’t shut up. And my popcorn wasn’t salty enough, and I was uncomfortable the whole time because the cinema seats were designed for circus folk. The entire experience should have been as rewarding as eating flour, so why hadn’t I complained all the way through it? Why hadn’t I refused to eat my popcorn, or watch the film, on the grounds that they were, both of them, tasteless and shit?

And then it hit me. The real reason I’ve not been updating my site. I have become nice. I have been suffering from calm. I haven’t been irritated by anything, and consequently I’ve had no material, I haven’t seen any adverts that have pissed me off, I haven’t wanted to kill anyone in particular. Traffic hasn’t annoyed me, television programs haven’t made me livid. I’ve even been watching 24 without incident. Not a swear word, not a complaint, not a moan, not a grumble whinge whine or bleat. Nothing. I have been, I can come to no other conclusion, happy, relaxed, and easy going. And it’s shit. It’s as shit as 300. Which is really shit.

And I have decided that the blame for this affliction rests solely, and rather obviously, with Mackerel. That’s right, it’s an oily fish, and it’s to blame for putting me in a state where I stupidly sit through rubbish films without raising a word of discontent even though they’re clearly less entertaining than getting fisted by a medieval warrior.

I have come to this decision based on nothing more than the fact I started eating it a lot a few months ago, and then all of sudden, nothing was pissing me off. But for the past two weeks, I haven’t been eating it, and now everything is pissing me off again. It might not seem like much evidence, but it’s good enough for me.

But I’m not eating it now, and with that in mind, let me share something with you all.

In the Lord of the Rings, when Oregano stopped the king from killing that pale faced cock who had been keeping him under a spell for god knows how many years, as the guy was running away it occurred to me that they might as well have yelled after him “by the way old chap, if you could see your way to not mentioning all the military secrets you know about us to the enemy, you know the enemy that we already know you’re in league with, that enemy, well if you could just not mention anything to him, that would be super. Especially that thing about the fucking big hole in the wall in helms deep which you could easily fill with explosives, could you just not mention that, would that be alright….hello?………fuck we should have killed him shouldn’t we?”

Well apparently military genius characters are all fucking stupid, as the same fucking thing happens in 300. Right at the start, that bizarre hunchback asked the main Scottish guy, who was obviously the king of Sparta, if he could fight for him, it went a bit like this…

“Hello Scottish king of Sparta, I’m essentially a lump of coal with a mouth, but I have come to fight for your bad arse group of British and American Spartans. GO TEAM!!!”

“I’m sorry, you’re too spastic to fight for me you ridiculous retard. I can’t even use you like I’m using these other few hundred people who aren’t even soldiers. By the way how did you get here?”

“Through this secret path that nobody other than me knows about”

“I see, do you mean the type of secret path that my enemy knowing about would totally and completely ruin my plan and guarantee the death of me, my men, and everyone in my city?”

“Yes”

“The type of secret path that someone who was aware of it might, if they were extremely unhappy with me, feel the urge to tell my enemy about?”

“Yes”

“I see….well, fuck you cripple. I fully expect to never hear from you again. Bye”

The moment that happened, I should have just got up out of my seat and gone home. Why bother making it that obvious. Apparently in the book the troll appeared to have killed himself, which makes a bit more sense, but why bother with it at all, it was just pointless. You could have used that scene as a football, such was the extent to which it was devoid of points.

And then there was the shit with his wife, whose presence in the film, from what I can gather, was purely for the purpose of getting a pair of tits in it. Not that I mind that particularly, but I honestly think that if film makers really want to get sex into a film but can’t think of a plausible way to do it, they should just play porn in the background when the credits run. That way they can keep men happy and not fuck up the story of their films.

So in summary, 300 was shit, and I should have noticed, but I didn’t, and it was all because of an oily fish. But I’m not eating it now, and there’s a whole host of things that are pissing me off.