Alright, you bunch of misfits and mental gymnasts, welcome to this week’s edition of “Let’s Get Real About Shit That Matters.” This isn’t some fluffy creative piece. If that’s what you’re after, go back and devour my previous stories.
So once I jump on the blog I know the heads is proper fucked up. I come back to this shit for meaning when the meaning is gone from my daily life. I try to find it by writing shit down and letting random cunts on the internet read it.
I’m fresh off finishing in 6th place for a Short Story competition about a man failing to get laid in a knock shop. I’ll publish it here once I get the rights back. I’m not too pissed off that I didn’t win, I’d love to have US$500, but the person that won was fucking amazing. She wrote about a parent dying of cancer.
On principle alone my sex story did not deserve it, as absurd as it was.
What have I been up to since my last blog?
I got a fucking Sausage dog. I called him Charles Edward Cheese. I’m not entirely sure if he is cognitively capable of acting like a real dog. He’s only a few months now, but he does the most stupid shit.
He eats his own poo. We already had him at the emergency room twice.
Once for possibly drinking antifreeze and the other time he dislocated his shoulder because he walked into the doorframe.
I think he may be neurodivergent. I’m sure with today’s technology, dogs can be on the ‘tism table too. I’ll keep you posted on his progress.
Here is a sonnet about the little shit. I haven’t done a sonnet since Primary School. It’s so hard to stick to the format as an adult. My sonnets were the best back in when I was 10.
Ode to Charles Edward Cheese
Upon the ground so low, young Charles does prance,
A wiener dog with legs so short and sweet,
He’ll dazzle you with every tiny dance,
And charm you with his wagging, rhythmic beat.
His long, sleek body, built for underground,
Yet over grass, he struts with pomp and pride.
Though with each leap his feet are barely found,
He’s got the heart of giants deep inside.
A bark erupts like thunder from a flea,
Though small of stature, he’s a loud display.
The mailman quivers, “Oh, what could it be?”
As Charles defends his realm in fierce ballet.
Yet cuddled close, he’s gentle as a breeze,
My dachshund Charles, a true delight to please.
Today’s dive? Male mental health. Obviously.
Buckle up, because we’re tearing through the nonsense with a chainsaw of honesty. No time for pleasantries or sugar-coating here.
Curiosity Killed the Wallet
Ever had that relentless itch where you just gotta know how stuff works? That’s me. As a kid, I was the neighborhood’s favorite demolition expert. Remote control cars? I’d rip those bad boys apart faster than a toddler on a sugar rush. The parts? Well, let’s just say they ended up being something that vaguely resembled a science project gone rogue.
Fast forward to now: I’m the proud owner of three cars and two bikes, none of which I’ve sold. Why? Because once I get my hands on something, it’s like the car, bike, or tool becomes an extension of myself. My curiosity isn’t just a quirk—it’s a goddamn lifestyle.
When my oldest kid bought an Audi TT, I thought, “Great deal!” until the dashboard lit up like a Christmas tree. Instead of running for the hills, I dove headfirst into fixing it. Before I knew it, I was knee-deep in DSG gearboxes and ABS calibration. My YouTube history now looks like a mechanic’s wet dream. A dream deferred as I have since fucked it completely and it is now parked on the side of the road and I got her a Honda Fit. Well she got it herself.
This relentless curiosity is my blessing and my curse. It keeps my mind busy and, honestly, helps me keep my shit together when life’s anxiety and depression knock at the door. It’s just putting me out of pocket.
The Myth of Perpetual Happiness
Here’s the kicker: happiness isn’t a constant state. It’s a fleeting moment of bliss, a smile in the chaos. Some folks think money or flashy stuff will buy them happiness. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t, or so I’ve heard. I’d have a lash at it anyway, just to test the theory.
You see, happiness is like chasing a rainbow. It’s momentary, and that’s okay. I’m no shrink, but I’ve got enough life experience and an internal monologue narrated by Morgan Freeman to know that chasing happiness is a lot like chasing your tail.
So what’s the real deal?
Mindfulness: The Holy Grail of Being Present
Being mindful is about being present in whatever you’re doing. Washing the dishes? Be there. Walking the dog? Be there. Even filing taxes? You guessed it—be there. Mindfulness is like meditation without the incense and awkward sitting positions.
But let’s be real: in today’s world of constant notifications and distractions, being mindful is as easy as finding a needle in a haystack. It’s why people run marathons or lift weights obsessively—to force themselves into a state of being fully engaged. It’s why I get lost in a game for hours. It’s not always the healthiest outlet, but it’s mine. I wish I could do something more constructive, but I’m just too disillusioned at the moment. But that’s OK, I’ll sit with it for a while until I feel it’s enough.
Achievement: The Drug We All Need
The other path to fleeting happiness is achievement. It’s the sweet spot where ticking boxes feels damn good. Finishing a project, fixing that leaky faucet, or even just getting through the workday without losing your mind—these are the wins that make life worth living.
My day job as a manager? Watching my team succeed and be happy gives me a massive sense of achievement. It’s like my own little happiness booster shot. I love giving people opportunities to do better and blessed to be in a position to be able to.
This usually comes back to bite me in the ass.
The Black Dog: A Reminder That Life Sucks and my Best Friend.
Let’s not ignore the dark side—depression. That black dog that hounds you, making life feel like a never-ending cycle of shit. Suffering is part of the human condition. You’re born, you live, and you suffer. Sounds grim, but it’s the truth.
Our goal isn’t to eliminate suffering—it’s to manage it. And managing it means focusing on the moments of happiness. Find structure in the chaos. That’s where a touch of Stoicism comes in handy. Suffering is a given part of the human experience.
Procrastination: The Sneaky Bastard
Procrastination is another sneaky fucker that ruins our lives. It’s not just about delaying tasks—it’s about avoiding failure. When I procrastinate, it’s often because I’m scared of falling short. But here’s the thing: avoiding failure is just another way of failing without trying.
The trick is to push through it. Do the damn thing. Even if it means working under pressure, it’s better than letting procrastination win.
Final Thoughts: Embrace the Chaos
So there you have it. Be mindful. Achieve what you can. And above all, understand that life is a messy, chaotic adventure. Embrace it. Find joy in the small victories and keep pushing through the tough times.
And if all else fails, well, you know what to do: fix some stuff, take a moment to breathe, and maybe have a laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Alright, time to wrap this up. If this blog resonated with you, hit that like button, share it with your mates, and let’s keep this conversation rolling. And remember, the world’s a chaotic place, but you’ve got the tools to navigate it.
Until next time.
Rub a dog
Genuflect to a swan
Chase a Librarian with a wheelie bin
You glorious cunts
