OptaMISStik’s Neighborhood

It's St Stephen's day in the year when the boyband and gay community lost St Stephen Gately and the rest of the world said fond farewells to art-legend Tony Hart, Michael Jackson, your man from the chickflicks, Natasha Richardson, Farah Fawcett, Brittany Murphy and the truly irreplacable Maggie Jones!

Oh yeah and that fucking annoying non-celebrity bint who got her baps out on Big Brother. Why didn't a Daily Mail columnist rip her to shreds?

Better luck for the celebrities in 2010.

Happy Birthday to Annie Lennox, Sissy Spacek, Humphrey Bogart, Jimmy Buffet... *yawn* oh yeah, you too Dido.

Belated birthday greetings to Jesus that historical character who was actually born earlier in the year and has made some people very happy, some people very smug, some people very violent and made one woman push the Pope over at mass last night.

And last but not least best wishes to Shane Magowan you big fuckin' mess. One last Christmas song?

As I start the day off paraphrasing from Shane Magown's greatest Christmas song ever written "it was Christmas Eve babe in the drunk tank, workplace? shithole..." Yeah that's the one. It's Christmas Eve in the shithole. Am I bitter about being in work on Christmas? Not overly. It's just another day. Am I bitter about sleeping in until 6.20 and not having time to have breakfast or make a backed lunch before braving the sub-zero temperatures outside. Out of the 40 or so regulars who hop on the train at my stop each morning there were six of us. As always no one spoke, no season's greeting or any of that, eyes down, headphones in, deathly public transport silence. That's how we like it best. I've griped enough today. Much like the Allied forces and Nazi troops in 1945 I'm declaring a Christmas truce. And so from the lyrics of a great Christmas tune I leave you with a clip from a great Christmas movie. Enjoy whatever it is you get up to tomorrow.

Yeah yeah yeah.

I lost.

Shaddap.

I got given another bottle of wine again today by someone in work which was basically just redirected from a box that was delivered from my own client. That makes three bottles of wine that I've brought home this week. Three bottles of wine are all I have to say thanks for all the gruelling work and overtime and shit put up with through the year...

Three bottles of wine which I'll more than likely give to my mum and she in turn will give them to someone else as a gift! Are we possibly the only people who don't drink at Christmas and New Year?

Ahh when will this whole Christmas thing be over and done with so I can go back to some form of normality...

Day: Twenty Three
Positive Outcomes: None... I'm just rambling... and tired and urgh...

I just paid rent to my building manager, and he gave me a bar of Ghana chocolate to say thank you! And I guess as a kind of Christmas present. How sweet. Literally!

Well... you know that free massage I was offered... yeaaahhh...

Well I dropped off the canteen just then to see if I could grab a bite to eat (today was Barge Day, and if that isn't a full cardio and muscle toning workout, then I'm one of those guys that sell them on those paid presentations) and Masseuse Girl was there (thank god for name tags I finally found out her name is Rebecca) and she opens with..

MG: "Hey Beautiful." (okay really? Thats what chicks call other chicks right? Who calls a guy beautiful?)

Goo: "Hey Princess, whats doing."

MG: "Nothing much, how are you today?"

Goo: "Freaking sore, had the barge come in today at 6:30am. My entire body feels like its full of rocks with the occasional papercut with lemon feeling in various areas"

MG: "What time do you finish, if I'm not busy I can give you a massage!"

Goo: "Errr I should be done around 3ish I guess" (Saying this as I walk away)

MG: "Alright! Its a date, you better show!"

Goo: "Righto!" (yelling this out as I turn the corner)

So what was a vague and open ended invite to a massage that was most likely never going to happen...has turned into a massage happening at 3pm today...

Someone staple my mouth shut.

What makes Great Britain great? Regular readers of this blog will know that I often flit between being Irish, Brititsh, Northern Irish or anything else I may choose to feel at the time. For now I am British and have a bone to pick with my fellow Brits.

There are some things which are stereotypically British... a good salty feed of fish and chips, that English stiff upper lip, the bulldog mentality and all that resiliance which overthrew the Germans once in 1945 and again in 1966... Why then does the entire nation fall to pieces under half an inch of snow!

Airports are closed, roads are backed up, the train to France hasn't shifted in days and a nation of moaners is wrapped up in duvets watching DVD box sets instead of going to work... Oh yes we've become a classy bunch of people who like to take the easy way out and care more about celebrity culture than anything else in the world.

With the focus on the cold snap it's easy to forget about the onslaught of Christmas and all the drunkenness, violence, poverty, abuse and war that walks hand in hand with the season of good will. How about in 2010 we all just "man up" a little bit, stand up to politicians, say no, say we've had enough, go out in the snow, risk the roads and believe the words of the seasonal number one hit record.

Go on, do something.

Day: Twenty Two
Positive Outcomes: Be a risk taker!!

Well not really... But I dunno... I will leave it for you guys to decide.

So I was having dinner at the staff canteen. The Swede is already there but the boys are already drooling over her, so I just let her and her admirers be and eat my dinner. She keeps giving me funny looks though, but she won't actually talk to me. Strange girl.

Anyways Masseuse Girl rocks up and sits next to me. Asks me whether or not I have a woman on the mainland, I tell her that no I don't. And then she opens up with the fact that she's in training at the spa, so she will need test subjects to practice on, and would I be interested.

My first thought was of course "free massage! woo!". And I didnt think anything of it... until I remembered this whole deal I have with myself. Now if this is just an innocent practice session and she merely thinks of me as a dummy to do all her massaging on, i should be cool right? But then I hear Tik laughing at me from across the kilometres shaking her head and calling me clueless cause she'll say that it's an obvious come on.

But its not THAT obvious is it? I mean she needs to practice, I was there ready to be asked to participate in said practice sessions. Its nothing right? Right?

Okay I'll leave the floor open to your wise and profound comments, with the exception from the comments from Pro cause they'll inevitably call me a girl at some point :P

Okay... 40 days and 40 nights.

Everyone knows the premise right?? Well okay, quick explanation. Basically I am not allowed to perform any sort of sexual activity with either myself or the raven haired, blue eyed, pouty lipped waitress from the restaurant... (focus damnit!), or the swede, or dutch, or number one, or the masseuse or any other girl on this island or coming to this island.

So today is day one.

Ummm... pretty easy so far I can say :P