My son asked me to fix a hole he had in the ceiling of his bedroom of his flat.
I wondered how he got it there, I thought he was on drugs.
So I took the Gopro that he gave me for my birthday and I hid it in the vallence.
I wired it into the power and is always charged and connected to his WIFI incognito.
I’m able to watch live when he is there, It’s a Hero 5 so it has excellent quality.
He doesn’t do drugs thank God.
But he often brings girls over that he meets on WildSmash.com.
So many girls, willing girls.
I haven’t had sex with my wife since I put the camera up.
Because I watch him have sex with the young girls.
I masturbate each time, even that time when he had a boy over.
My wife hasn’t caught me yet, and I don’t care if she ever does.
She is leaving me anyway, because of the lack of sex.
Good for a sneaky perv wank
Hello and welcome to my blog post you droopy gulags.
I hope you enjoyed that little bit of prose about a man whose wife is leaving him.
I sit and write at our dining room table which shares a space with our kitchen. It’s not the ideal place, but in a way, I’m kind of forced to be there.
My laptop is a piece of shit you see. If I move it around too much it makes a shitty sound, like a jarring record scratch and then freezes. Then after a few seconds it shuts down and comes back up with a blue screen with Chinese writing. Sometimes a bang will fix it, but most days I need to remove the back cover and reseat the hard drive.
So it’s best I sit in a place where I don’t need to move it around too much, it’s either where I am now or in my baby daughter’s room. There’s no chance of getting anything done there with that mad bastard around. Plus I don’t want to type rude words in front of her, she can read now and she asks questions.
It’s not too bad in the kitchen. My beautiful wife brings me snacks while I work and I like the ambience that our fish tank provides. It’s a tiny tank, just 20 litres and it currently has a snail problem. There are some cunty snails in there that are breeding at a rapid rate. I honestly didn’t know that snails breed like that. Hundreds of them lads.
Snail Tank
The only real issue I have when sitting here are these chairs. They are extremely uncomfortable for long periods of sitting. The one I’m using now, is quite squeaky as well, and is very distracting. Any kind of natural movement sets it off. Exaggerated movements do sweet fuck all.
Uncomfortable Chair
I remember when I bought this furniture.
I was living in New Zealand for about four years before I got it. Before that ,we were using miss matched trinkets we picked up on the side of the road, literally.
I was so excited when I bought it too. We got a monkey load of stuff. Dining room table with chairs to match, 52 inch TV with cabinet, bedroom suite, chest of draws, new fridge and other stuff. We paid a king’s ransom for all these items. Made a lot of debt. But we needed it, it was a necessity. We were happy when we bought it and we were happy for a while after we had it. It was an achievement, a big one.
That was six years ago, and it didn’t take long after everything was paid off that these tootsie totems lost their lustre and we started pining for new shit. But we have done a lot of growing up since then. We know that buying new shit will only give us momentary pleasure, and being poor cunts, we know that we will still be paying it long after the novelty has gone.
This got me thinking about what actually makes people happy and if striving for happiness is something that is a realistic goal.
I already discovered that, for me at least, finding a sense of meaning and solving problems gives me moments of happiness.
Happiness is something that can only be lived in the moment.
One of the things I enjoy most in the world is riding my motorcycles. And when I do that, in the moment I am extremely happy and when it’s over, I’m not really happy anymore. I think I’m just content. I can think back on the ride and relive the joy, but I can’t think about that forever.
Is this making sense? You cunts.
I shit you not. My wife hounds me every day to buy myself a new bike, one that doesn’t require so much attention. I tell her yes every time, but I can’t get myself to do it.
Not only do my buckets of bolts give me an enormous sense of meaning, they also give me moments of happiness when I work on them.
I don’t believe that happiness and joy are permanent states.
However, I do believe that sadness can be a permanent state.
When you are perpetually sad it is called depression and depression is a cunt. If any of you have ever been depressed, you know what I’m talking about. Being in a permanent state of sadness is no fun.
I still have my bouts of depression, I’m currently going through one now. It usually permeates from my anxiety, but my CBT practices are keeping it under control.
I’m having a proper hard time at work. I’ve embarked on quite a big project, it’s quite a noble one as well. In my line of work, and I don’t often get opportunities for noble causes.
Unfortunately the owner has seen an opportunity to make a shit ton of money on it and he is now pissing me right off.
I’m having to do my ABC’s every five minutes. That shit’s grinding me down, but I know it won’t last forever.
Depression and happiness are not antithetical and it’s means are not equidistant. I guess the opposite of depression has to be contentment.
The opposite of sadness is happiness, because both of these are temporary states.
I’ve just passed one thousand words, and I told myself not to go on for too long. I think that’s about seven minutes of reading.
I much prefer going a bit further, like 3 or 4K words, but i don’t want to get too wordy.
What do you guys think?
If you enjoy this kind of thing and want me to go longer, please let me know.
Cheers you absolute twats.
Support my Patreon
