the tuc-tuc diaries.zero

a few months ago i realised i was indulging in a hedonist lifestyle of cheap thrills and creature comforts. i felt emotionally and spiritually numb. so i decided to travel, because i wanted more of that but in a different location, preferably one with cheaper cocaine. that's how i ended up in colombia with 3 months to spare and no real plan to speak of. my travels were poorly documented to say the least - i didn't keep any sort of journal and the fact that i didn't take a camera turned out to hinder the photography aspect of the thing. so, due to what i imagine is stifling popular demand and me not wanting to forget every single thing that happened over there, i'm going to try to force out some sort of written account of the events. there is absolutely no guarantee that this will be of any interest to anyone, and there is of course the distinct possiblity that everything i say never actually happened. the first installment will hopefully come soon, try not to panic as you wait. gracias y hasta luego.

she

was a cigarette smoking geography student, i was trying to come across as nonchalant. we met in a discotheque and the rest of the night was spent grinding on the dancefloor or struggling to get served at the bar, although neither of the two activities were performed together and i only participated in the latter.

corruption is rife, but is anything else?

so fifa put russia in charge of the 2018 world cup, denying Portugal to emphasise it's position in the world, which is lying on a deck chair under the beautiful spanish shade.
controversial as the decision may be, i'm sure the russian summer will at least be interesting.
qatar though? I heard you can't even do heroine there? wtf fifa

oh, honey, there you are

i'm glad you're home, because it's your turn to get mauled by the baboon.

ren and stimpy - fine cartoon

e-burgh the city

these streets are lined with cafe after pub after bar after pub after cafe, and i want to visit them all and be jovial and warm.

rainy day raving

at the moment i'm too self-obsessed to make this about anything more than my deep-seated neuroses.

one day i will have an audience, and on that day my mother will read this blog.

Social Anxiety 3

What's the worst that could happen? Seriously, what's the worst that could happen?

you're a girl and i'm a boy

it could all be so simple.

come and hide your lovers

before i forget (which won't happen for a while as this was, by far, my greatest achievement in the last few days), i think i managed to put on my duvet cover properly today. turns out if each corner is in place the thing will sort of hold together and not become a lumpy piece of shit swimming in bunched up cheap fabric everytime you move your leg. thank you, e-how, yet again. the trial run is tonight.

Social Anxiety 2

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Social Anxiety

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what's a man to do

the name, sublime. the design, understated, elegant, and entirely based on a pre-existing template. the content, fairly uninspired tbh. i'm still carving out a niche, and it could take a while.

for now, this is just an excuse for me to write for the sake of writing. of course, when you actually sit down to write with no idea what to write about, absolutely nothing comes to mind. your brain draws blanks left right and indeed centre. even this very sentence did not emerge efortlessly on the screen. you feel you have nothing to say, have never had anything to say, and will never have anything to say. so far this is an experience not altogether dissimilar from the act, or art, of talking to girls with a view to perhaps getting them to take their clothes off in your presence, something i know very, very little about but still enjoy obsessing over from time to time. to time to time to time. there's something to write about. my eternal struggle with things that i'm sure come easily to most normally functioning folk.

ah, what's a man to do but work out whether it's true

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fight test

all systems go