Tuesday 31 July 2007

Cry me a shower

I guess there's always a first for everything and last night in the gym was one such occasion.

While doing sit-ups at the end of what had been a good work-out and whether because I'd drunk too much water or because I was pumping my stomach too hard or for whatever reason, I puked.

I realised what was about to happen when I got that horrible acidly taste and the sides of your jaw go all salivery.

I grabbed my gym towel and half-vomitted into that, thankfully it didn't go anywhere and then walked as fast as possible - not wanting to draw attention to myself - to the bathroom.

Making it to the disabled loo just in time, I was able to shut the door just before the whole lot came out. Thankfully it all went in the right direction and not onto the floor.

There was spit and other bits all down my gym T-shirt and on the towel and my shoes.

Sitting on the cold, tiled floor, it must have been the stink of sweat and floor chemicals that made me lurch again. One of those really painful ones where your stomach contracts and nothing comes out.

Suddenly I had that moment, I saw myself slumped on the floor in a public toilet, looking pathetic, ugly and alone and it made me start to cry. Perhaps because there was no-one there to rub my back.

Or perhaps because I thought "why the fuck am I doing this to myself?"

However, I gathered myself, walked to my locker - transfixed by the floor so nobody could see my bloodshot eyes - stripped and went and had a shower and cried a bit more.

It's funny how a seemingly ridiculous incident can trigger something that just sometimes forces the flood-gates open.

I was supposed to see Chantal, my Seth Efriken friend who I met yesterday at the airport, but thankfully she'd called ealier to cancel because she'd had a hectic day at work.

Instead I went home, dumped my stuff, avoided my housemates, went to straight bed, listening to Kate Bush I hugged my pillow and cried a bit more.

Last night I didn't feel like a superhero. Instead I felt like super-duper shit.

But it's ironic how good you feel the next morning after you've had a big fat "I feel so sorry for myself, boo hoo", self-indulged cry.

And then I got an e-mail from You Know Who You Are who accused me of being "crashingly middle class" which made me laugh because it's the insult I use to describe others.

It cheered me up no end, as did this picture which I think is really hot...

Okay, after all this heaviness I promise to make you laugh tomorrow. Or at least smile. Deal?

The picture above was taken off the blog of John Rutherford who's a director for Colt Video who make movies you would never watch in front of your mother. Unless you're Norman Bates.


Bobby's Dodgy Amazing Music Collection, CD #3

Yes, I had to be this.

When I listen to Kate Bush it's like she's singing just for me. Her music can be difficult to listen to and maybe she does deserve the nickname "Bonkers Bush" or "Alice in Wonderland" but to me she's amazing.

I've chosen the first side of Aerial because it's what I listened to last night.
In my collection, which numbers a few hundred, this CD is one of my most treasured. It's the only CD I've ever queued for outside a record shop to buy, on the morning it was released. (HMV outside Bond Street Tube station, 7 November 2005).

Favourite tracks: King of the Mountain (because it's a good pop song) and Joanni.
Least favourite: Pi and Mrs Bartolozzi

Sunday 29 July 2007

Anything to declare?

I went to meet a friend at Heathrow this morning who's come to London for business. Being there reminded me of the one thing I always say when I'm flying somewhere (I'm so boring I recycle my jokes...)

Airport worker: "Sir, do you have anything sharp on you?"
Me: "Well... only my wit!"

The staff member usually laughs and then I do too.

And then I think; "haha, I got away with using that same old joke again". And then she thinks "fuck-me if one more person says that fucking line I'm going to shove them down the goddam baggage carousel".

But then I started to think. What if I was forced to declare something? What would I say?

Well, the best thing about blogs is that you can say and do whatever you like. So, just for the hell of it, I want to do that.

"So yes, I do have a few things to declare."

1/ The PIN of the card to my primary bank account is 3335.

2/ I once did a line of Charlie before going to work because I'd been out the whole night before and needed sharpening up. I told colleages that I hadn't slept because of noisy neighbours and that I was buzzed because I'd drank too many Red Bulls. It happened about four years ago and I'm still employed so I must have got away with it.

3/ At University once, studying in the library while bored and horny, I went to a private area in the humanities section and whacked one out, all over the books on the second-from-bottom shelf. Apologies that that's so crass.

4/ While at Uni I also shagged one of my course lecturers in his office. Well, not really shagged, we fumbled and he got down on his knees. He was in his 30s, an athlete and quite fit. But he had a small willy.

5/ I piss in the showers at the gym. Although I don't feel too bad about this one because other people wank in the showers and cum all over the floor. That's why you should wear flip-flops in any sort of communal cleaning area.

Moving on...

So I'm on Facebook but I've grown very bored of it and hardly use it now.

The down-turn in my enthusiasm came when our boss set up his own Facebook page and added all of us, the staff, as his mates. Because he only had about 10 friends it was pretty obvious if we didn't add him.

And do you really want your boss looking at your pictures or reading your status, like: "Bobby is aching after too many hours in the fuck-sling at Hard-On". Or whatever.
(Haven't been to Hard-On* and don't intend to, but...)

I know you can make things private but it kinda takes the fun out of the whole thing.

Anyway, Bookface is great for finding people you ain't seen in a while. Er, that's euphemism for "past shags".

So I found one of the guys I had an interaction with when I lived in Cape Town but all I could see was his little picture and his friends.

Now is it just me or...

Here are just some of his "friends":


Now Facebook is a little more "legit" than Myspace when it comes to things like this but can anyone have so many fit guys as their friends?

Here are more of his "mates"..:

Don't believe me? Check out these guys: Calvin Ribeiro, Andy Ashton and Craig Montgomery from Houston. I thought these kind of men only existed in airbrush heaven!?

Seeing guys like that makes me feel fat, ugly and worthless. So I'm going to down a box of laxatives and then head off to the gym to pump up my self-esteem.

* = Hard-On is a sex / fetish club in Vauxhall for people who like to er, the website should give you an idea of what goes on. For god's sake don't look at it at work because you'll get sacked: http://www.hardonclub.co.uk/

Bobby's Dodgy Music Collection CD #2
Being objectionable can be fun which is why I love Lil' Kim. And anyone who can rap the following lyrics deserves respect:

Dan, my nigga from down South
Used to like me to spank him and cum in his mouth


or what about:
Grab some tissues and close your eyes
And imagine your tongue in between my thighs


or my favourite:
All I wanna do is get my pussy sucked
And count a million bucks in the back of an armored truck


If you wanna annoy / grossly offend / make the neighbours hate you for life, this album will do it in about one song.
Favourite track: How Many Licks. Obviously.

Bricking it

I wish I had a sign around me that said "I don't do recommendations".

Because invariably people always ask i.e. "Molly and I are going to the cinema, have you seen anything good recently?"

What I really want to say is "yes I've seen loads of good things but our tastes are completely different and if you go and see what I enjoyed, you'll probably never speak to me again."

But what comes out of my mouth is; "yes er, Die Hard 4 was quite amusing."

So Molly and her mate pack off to see Die Hard, which usually results in the following text sent to me afterwards; "Bobby, that movie was complete crap, we walked out. Don't ever fucken suggest anything to me ever again. I hate you".

Of course I don't have any friends called Molly but I do have a friend called Ashley. When I first moved to London I slept on Ashley's couch for six weeks while I found a place to live, job etc.

So we're very good friends which is why Ashley of all people should know never to ask me for a recommendation and yet she still does.

Her brother's visiting and she wants to go out for a meal. "Is there any place near you that does good Italian?"

I share my thoughts and she takes my advice.

This morning I get a phone-call. Apparently the waiter spilt a glass of red wine on her top, two customers got into a fight and had to be ejected and her brother had calamari and is now sick.

The only thing I can say is "well, obviously I haven't lost the magic touch!"

Genius.

Then, early this morning I get woken up by the most irritating noise in the world. It goes on and on and on - not good for any morning, especially on a Sunday.

Trying to find the funny side, I finally decide to get out the mobile phone...



Well it never did start again. Idiot car.

Maybe someone did come and throw a brick at it which would have been good. It's an ugly fucken green 4x4 thrown together by a bunch of commies and deserves all the bricks it gets.

Bobby's Dodgy Music Collection CD #1

I'm not doing this in alphabetical order but this CD just happened to be the first one that my eyes clapped onto to. And what a great way to start...

Come on, admit it. You used to like them too. Happy Nation was a brilliant song. And I bet you thought the chirpy "oi noy se zoin" (I saw the sign) was pretty good too. Yes, I have an Ace of Base CD. Yes, I used to listen to them.

And I remember that one of the guys was quite hot too. Okay, I'll stop now.

Saturday 28 July 2007

The adventure begins

I had a blog once.

Writing it was fun but it was pretty specific - to help me work towards a goal - and when I achieved that goal I had nothing more to say. So I stopped the blog.

But I quickly realised that I missed it. And others missed it too which made me feel very flattered. It's nice when other people look to you for inspiration or amusement. And so an idea formed.

Blogs are great because they allow you to be anonymous which affords you the opportunity to be whatever you like. So I decided I wanted to become a superhero.

The first task was finding a superhero name. I decided to keep Bobby because it's a version of my name in real life but I needed a surname.

So I got out my book of inspiration and found a few of my favourite words, vanquish being one of them. I thought it sounded kinda cool. Y'know, vanquishing enemies and smelly people on the Tube etc.

Vanquish is also the name of one of the sexiest cars in the world. And I also thought that I could have some fun with the 'V'. And I like the letter 'Q' as well.

Since one of my favourite books is Dracula I thought Vanquish also sounded like Vampire. And the bottom of the 'Q' is shaped a little like the 'Y' in Transylvania.

And so Bobby Vanquish was born.

Of course all good superheroes need a superhero car and here's mine. The real Vanquish, an Aston Martin.

Finally, at the end of each post I want to expose my taste in music. Others do it and I find it an intriguing and amusing insight. I've always had music in my life and have racks and racks of CDs as a result.

At the end of each post I want to show you a CD from my collection and explain why I have it.

And so the adventure begins. Who knows where it will take us but I'd be chuffed if you'd join me for the ride.