Wednesday 24 August 2011

a little spam bot poem i think we can all relate to

Hello little spam bot,
I do not want your things,
Your penis pumps,
Your plumbing tools,
Or your nipple rings.
I will not click your little links,
I am a hack free zone.
So to my little spam bot friends,
Go find another home.

Thursday 18 August 2011

this thing they call insomnia

So when all normal people with normal sleeping patterns are erm well sleeping, i am awake. It's nearly five in the morning and tonight i have met with my old friend insomnia. A chance encounter, sometimes i go weeks without the pleasure of her company but tonight she felt the need to visit me.
I was tired and achy when i dragged my body to bed. That was four hours ago. For the first hour i tried to get comfortable. I may have even drifted off to sleep for about twenty minutes before i was woken again by twitching legs. So here i am. Stupid thing is half an hour ago i was sitting on the edge of the bed in the dark with my eyes closed thinking yes i am now tired enough to go back to sleep. Then as soon as i lay my little self down again PING my brain woke up.
It ran through all the things i have to do tomorrow. Then it went from that to all the unpaid bills that will need paying and to the fact that i badly need a haircut but cant afford one. Then it did the all time classic insomnia trick of running through all the conversations that you should have had with people but never did.. Ok that was it . Do i lay here with sleeping man beside me, one leg out from under the duvet the other leg doing the Irish jig ? or do i say sod this and get up? I got up, first making sure said man was very asleep. So now for the rest of the night till dawn breaks i will enjoy the silence of the downstairs punctuated by the neighbor who has been banned from smoking inside his house and now feels the need to sit and smoke and cough on his front door step and the hamster on its wheel. I will also be drinking coffee and feeling grumpy and wanting to kick something.
But that is better than laying in bed beside sleeping person and watching the ceiling while your legs go mad and your brain does somersaults

until next time.

the pants have left the building..