I always enter a new year with much trepidation. Call me an old cynic, but each year seems to get harder and harder, more fucked up and more fucked up. So it is with some dread I start my 2007.
I have a funny feeling about this year, like, not a good one either.
I have also come to the dubiously sensible conclusion that alcohol is at the base of all of my issues, and have therefore decided to give it up until further notice.
That is not a typo my friends, and to be sure, I shall rephrase in another way so that you can embrace the seriousness of my statement: I am not going to be drinking alcohol for a while. Hence the whole 'New Year's Resolution' thing, that really is a whole lot of pants, because NOBODY keeps these things, but I'll try for at least a month or two. Nothing bad has happened for me to decide this, in fact, the holidays have been somewhat docile to say the least. I just don't like the way alcohol makes me feel anymore. I get all tired and insecure after a long boozy night these days, it just doesn't give the kick it used to, (which is a bugger as I have no other poison.)
So no more. For now. I won't say ever, ever, but but for now. It also helps me to stop craving cigarettes if don't drink, and believe you me, anything that can help my craving will be welcome. Teetotalling, so be it.
New word though. Doetpipe. (n) Doot-pipe.
"He takes it up his dootpipe," was the context of this lovely sounding word. It means bumhole, ass, anoos.
Peas: Hi dude, listen Happy New Year and all that shite...anyway, last night during that massively fabulous New Year's house party we had in Plett, you gave me a new word to blog about.
Friend: Did I?
Friend: Oh yeah.
Peas: Right. Smoking Legs and I are arguing about what a doetpipe is, the definition was sketchy last night after so many whatchamakcallits. Is it a totty, or is it a bumhole?
Friend: A bumhole.
Peas: Damn. I lose fifty bucks. Oh well, have a great day, bye now.
Speaking of doetpipes, cripes is it an issue actually sharing a bathroom with a newish (3-months tomorrow) lover. Not that girls pooh or anything, but seriously. I've had to like, relieve myself in all sorts of dodgy public cans in town, although he seems to have no problem taking the proverbial dump within my immediate 50 metre proximity.
Fried. We went to the beach - yesterday and today and I am on fire. Behaving like a Brit tourist, and lying on the beach in midday, I cannot expect much else.
Love is something that happens to other people. This is neither sad or whimsical on my behalf, it really is just a matter-of-fact fact that I concur with seriousness of face. And am happy with my partnerships being anything but the former.
It's been kiff seeing Doc again. We hung out at his pad yesterday, talked shit.
We're going on Ramone's boat on the lagoon just now. Ramone has sunk a boat during his time here, so I'm not sure he should be voted skipper at this point.
OK, enough. Here is a full list of my resolutions:
1) Enough with the toxins that poison my body already. Alcohol and nicotine are slowly being weened out of my body, and it feels better than I thought.
2) Always have a sense of humour man.
3) Be passive agressive if you wish to make a point. Being actively otherwise takes up too much energy.
4) Eat more salads and shit.
5) Like, buy a bike.
Oh and happy new year everybody. I really hope you are more positive about 2007 than I am.
PS: Bless, and this is bless, trust me. In a bid to try and understand my whole blog thing, my boyfriend Smoking Legs has started a blog in a bid to try and get the hype. It's called Dick's Dig, after playing around with names like Dick on Peas and Dick on Toast for a while, Dick's Dig it is. Take a look and please welcome him to the blogosphere even if you think he writes like a poen.
(He's lovely, promise.)