Monday, November 24, 2008

Disgusting Individual

I'm afraid that's me. My incredible end-of-year totalitarian Exercise dictatorship has been overthrown. I revolted. It's too cold to cycle (my lungs are thick with tar anyway), thus I'm not burning the crap I'm eating with a vengeance.

I'm enjoying commuting, to a degree. I occasionally spot tubelady, and that cheers me up, even if she's more aloof than a minor Nazi Royal.

And the cute Thai girl in my local supermarket, well, I've not seen her since, in a not-being-served-by-her sense, at any rate.

And frankly, that's no bad thing, because I am a Disgusting Individual for any woman. My weekends are rendered null and void now that virtually all my friends are married or in relationships, barring Russell, who's like a Jack Russell at the moment. I spend my Fridays attacking the booze and last Friday was no exception, but then again I probably noticed it more as my drinking companions that night were my Lovely Muslim Ladyfriend (pregnant), her sister (Muslim), a pocket Hindu who would collapse just smelling a puddle of Kaliber, and Russell who could out-calm and ruffle Barack Obama with his laid-back, not-drinking-that-much demeanour.

So basically, it was just me knocking back the wine and getting lairy, and in a group like that, you really become aware how drunk you're getting.

I distinctly unimpressed a cute, pink-haired Italian waitress that night. I was ignored by vast swathes of the two X chromosome-owning community (the ones with wombs). And I spent the remainder of that night as I did the rest of the weekend, and the weekend before that, and the weekend before that; I drank alone in front of my computer, chain-smoking, not writing my (Ha!) novel, and watching Family Guys on surf the channel.com.

But that's not where the disgust lies. Oh no. It occurred to me over the weekend that perhaps I should wash my duvets, so I walked to the laundromat where the gentleman within told me that two duvets and two pillows would be £11 per item. You do the math(s). Needless to say, I could've walked out and bought new sets of everything - which I didn't - although I probably should. You see, I have never.... NEVER... washed these items, which means the last time I had clean bedding was sixteen years ago.

Sadly, I'm not joking. I had the same duvets at University. YES, the sheets have been washed, but the duvets themselves? Ahem. No.

This means that the last time my duvets were clean, it was 1992. Bryan Adams' 'Everything I do' was Number One for FOUR FUCKING MONTHS.
The Soviet Union still existed.
When Iraqis talked about 'The War', they were referring to the one with Iran.
And Freddie Mercury was alive. (Just).

And my duvets haven't been clean since. I've had colds within them, sweated profusely beneath them, Jesus, I've even had sex with several different women under them, they're that old. And if you remove those clean sheets, they really look crap. There's more semen on that bedding than in the United States Navy.

In fact, I'll wager that if one could harness all that energy from 17 years worth of wanking had beneath that cloth, I daresay you could keep Blackpool lit for at least a week.

Which brings me neatly, if disturbingly, to the real scum of this post, the pinnacle of what makes me such a disgusting individual. Last week - and I really apologise for this (but not enough to not type this) - I was having one of those wanks. It is a wicked, detrimental habit I occasionally flirt with (every night) before shutting my eyes and burping myself to sleep. But I digress; I masturbated furiously and with gusto and deposited my nutspluff into a pre-placed kleenex.

Upon reaching that familiar state of a job well done mixed with colossal disappointment, I threw the damp ball of tissue somewhere at my bedroom wall and went to sleep. The following evening, after a rigorous day unfolding paperclips at work, I was back in front of my home computer when a small white ball caught my eye.

Ah! Eurgh. My issue tissue. I bent down to pick it up and remove the offending article, when I spotted something; the tissue had been nibbled.

The fucking mouse that lives in our flat that our landlord can't be bothered to evict, had been eating my ball.

Oh, and shat next to it too.

This is how I live. I am a disgusting, disgusting individual.

16 comments:

Dandelion said...

Yes, ok, that is bad. Remember what I told you. It could be worse. Remember that creme egg business on YouTube?

Z said...

You're eating crap, you're drinking too much, you're smoking, you're not cycling - are you going to the gym?

As for the rest, I'm too polite to notice. Although I can't help wondering if the mouse took one bite and then was horrified and shat himself or whether it nibbled away for some time in an interested manner.

Trixie said...

Can you come wank on my mice traps please...cause the cheese isn't working.

daisyfae said...

gotta say that i'm not great with the duvet washing either (ok with the sheets and towels). guess that's ok since no one wanks in my bed. that i know of...

for fun you should have brought in a UV light that makes spooge glow in the dark! That would have been a great pic! maybe there'd have been a madonna or face of jesus in the picture and you could have sold it to the tabloids or something?

Anonymous said...

I read all that whilst eating porridge with bananas and golden syrup. Um...

Anonymous said...

WANNNNNKER! twat, twat, twat... waaaanker!

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

Oh dear.

Oh dear, oh dear.

Urrrrgh.

Urrrm.

Hmmmm. What to say.

Errrm....

Yep.

I'm going now.

thehappymisfit said...

I've been lurking here for a while now, and I am delurking to say that whilst your honesty in this case may be a little troublesome, it is also damn charming. Hello.

Angela-la-la said...

Yep, that is pretty disgusting :)

Anonymous said...

rubes - you and i should have a pint or two together sometime, maybe rate the boozer. between the two of us, me with my quite recent 'spunkmopper' bint story amongst many other fine acts of gutter-dwelling/kerb-striveing debauchery, and you with your new york wanking saga's we'd have many tale to share:) the 'spunkmopper' tried to commit suicide a week later by the way. internet dating and the desperate date diaries - i really must write/but probably never will, that billuous, lardy, 3 grams of fat off a heart attack weighty tome one day. matt

i am not your freud said...

i wonder if the mouse tried to give you a message by shitting there... my ex's cat loved used condoms, which was just as disguisting.

last time you washed your duvets, i was at primary school, alf was on, people used commodore 64 or amiga and it was still ok to say "well if you love it so much why don't you marry it?" anyhoozers, now that you washed them, just get rid of the mouse and all will be "right as rain".

Lulu LaBonne said...

Yup - Disgusting, but funny, the kind of funny that's only funny from a distance

Lainey said...

Bloody hell. That is truly eeeeeww but it did make me exclaim out loud, in a good way.

I got my duvet cleaned for the first time a year ago and it was 7 years old. I do tend to 'glow' quite a lot at night and I dread to think how many litres of sweat had been soaked up into it. When I put it into the dry cleaners it was yellow and when I got it back it was white!

The only reason I got it cleaned was cause I was single again and the thought of new boys going anywhere near it was toe curling.

luna said...

Too much information!Yuck!

For the first time ever reading this nonsense I laughed til I cried.

But then for the first time ever I'm off my dinner!

Quel dilemma-god,and owning a pervy mouse getting off on ...hahaha ..it needs its protein,nah it feels threatened by your male dejections ,your hum "nutspluff" hahaha don't start me again..

P.S.You idiot,don't you know that freezing your duvets will rid them of the germs?Just hang them out on the balcony on a winter night,and it's free,as in free-zing ...

luna said...

Too much information!Yuck!

For the first time ever reading this nonsense I laughed til I cried.

But then for the first time ever I'm off my dinner!

Quel dilemma-god,and owning a pervy mouse getting off on ...hahaha ..it needs its protein,nah it feels threatened by your male dejections ,your hum "nutspluff" hahaha don't start me again..

P.S.You idiot,don't you know that freezing your duvets will rid them of the germs?Just hang them out on the balcony on a winter night,and it's free,as in free-zing ...

fwengebola said...

dand ~ What creme egg business on youtube?
Z ~ No, I'm not going to the gym, unless lifting pizza counts. I too have wondered what that mouse thought, and then decided I'd rather see it dead.
Trix ~ You know what? I'm now considering a spermball bait in a mousetrap.
df ~ Jesus, there's a thought. Mind you, what it highlights may utterly revolt me.
Anon ~ Oh it's only a rodent eating my semen. Get a grip.
Anon ~ I see.
PDEWYMO ~ Sorry.
thm ~ Oh hello there. I'm also really very sorry.
Ang ~ Shall I just type sorry repeatedly?
Anon ~ Jesus fucking christ, I'm about as anonymous as Tom Bastard Cruise in a dayglo vest wanking off a bridge.
I don't know what that even means.
IANYF ~ I think there's more to righting my wrongs than a duvet wash and mouse killing. It's a start, though.
LLLB ~ ... and in private where no-one can judge you.
Lainey ~ Hell there. That's because you're a lady, and you care about impressions. Just remember that when you're in some new guy's bed for the first time.
Luna ~ WELCOME BACK. At least your appreciation has cheered me up. Sadly, I can't put my duvet outside, as it looks like it's covered in sperm.