Wednesday, 29 February 2012

Stalin for Time

I received a lovely email at the train station today, which conversely left me feeling very sad. I felt like I was going to cry, and I wanted to, not really caring what my fellow travellers thought of me, but my brain seemed to repress my tears like an automatic bodily function, like breathing. It's hard for a fragile Germanic beauty such as myself to grow up in an emotionally anti-septic nation such as Great Britain, and I don't want my emotions to be trapped inside of me like a stick of rock with the word, "Shhh!" running through it. No, I want them to flow heady and unbound like a pint of superior German beer pulled by a buxom pub landlord on a tipsy Tuesday afternoon!





Be still my brave German heart...

Writing this has cheered me up immensely actually! Although the sadness is a worry, as I possibly can't be friends with a person whose kind words make me sad face, and I do dearly want to be friends with them :-s

Gah, it'll be reet I'm sure! And I think I know how I can solve this problem now (the solution involves chemicals, a rare bird of paradise, and a Feast lolly).

Anyway, in case 'fragile Germanic beauty' wasn't funny enough to warrant this post on its own, here is a picture of Stalin, arm-wrestling a dwarf elephant. Except Stalin is using his leg, and the elephant is using it's trunk, so it's better described as 'leg trunking?' Or 'trunk legging?' Or 'trunky-bang man slamming?'


After posting that picture, I realised:

"That elephant is coming at this trunky-bang man slam from a very unorthodox position which clearly puts him at an advantage over Stalin."

So, for the sake of the narrative, I have had now had Stalin notice too:




For those precious few of you who are not fluent in Russian, Stalin is saying:

"Kneel behind Stalin."

It was a lot of fun typing that into Google Translate I can tell you! Also for those who don't speak Russian:

"Ваше невежество делает мой сексроговой"

Stalin got the better of the beast in the end anyway, and it had to put its clothes back on as a forfeit. I should probably point out that this picture contains no symbolism, and is merely the first thing that came into my head! But I won't. Although it's true.

Anyway!

Willis



UPDATE!

Since writing this post, I have messaged the pictures I drew of Stalin leg trunking in an effort to entice her. I did also include some words of explanation. So far she has not taking the bait! It seemed like a dead good idea at the time, but I have since started thinking:

"Maybe not the best introductory message?"

RECENT MISTAKES

  1. Allowing my brain to have any power of my actions
  2. Assuming crudely drawn pictures of Stalin would work as a lady exciter
  3. That really bad thing I did that I did to that wolf that I probably shouldn't go into details about
ANALYSIS

Yeah, my brain's days of running the show are over as I'm just about to light a cigarette and put it out in my ear. See how you like that neo-cortex! Although I'm not entirely sure if the neo-cortex is part of your brain? It's definitely the name of the bad guy from Crash Bandicoot.

Also:

I WILL STOP MESSAGING GIRLS DRAWINGS OF STALIN
I WILL STOP MESSAGING GIRLS DRAWINGS OF STALIN
I WILL STOP MESSAGING GIRLS DRAWINGS OF STALIN
I WILL STOP MESSAGING GIRLS DRAWINGS OF STALIN
I WILL STOP MESSAGING GIRLS DRAWINGS OF STALIN

Happy Leap Day!

Every Wednesday, a girl in a purple coat gets on the same train as I do. Purple is one of my favourite colours, and I love it even more when it's the colour of someone's clothing. Usually this girl sits near me, but today she actually sat right next to me. She smelled nice, like perfume and playdough. Not that I took an illicit sniff of her when she had her back turned, I just smoke infrequently enough to be able to detect the odour of someone who is sat right next to me. Hopefully the same could not be said of her as I was a tad sweaty this afternoon!

My friend Ian has the philosophy that if you encounter someone a few times, you should just introduce yourself to them. I like this idea. I actually love this idea. But a few things held me back from just introducing myself to this girl, namely that:

  • During the day time, I tend to be dressed like a chav, in running shoes, black tracksuit bottoms, a black polo-neck, and a black waterproof coat. The reason for this is that this outfit is my work outfit, and I do not have chance to go home and change before I have to start earning my crust (although I would make the effort if I was getting paid in something other than crust. Very few places accept it as currency). This is a bit rubbish! Sometimes I will walk past coolly dressed folk and smile, as if to say, "Hey, check us out!" and they'll just look at me kind of confused, and I realise that what I'm wearing is not worthy of a smile from a stranger. It makes me feel like I'm in disguise, and makes me wary of approaching people I may otherwise approach.
  • I do have to get that train every week, so if I freak her out, I could get banned from the train? I dunno, I'm not sure what I could do for things to go that badly, but I do frequently surprise myself with how badly I can make a situation go! Once a girl said to me, "Give me a call if you want to meet up for sex sometime," and I somehow managed to make that go sour. She wasn't interested in chit-chat, all I had to do was call and say, "Now." But no, I managed to talk myself out of it!
  • Again, I have to get on that train every week, so if our conversation ends up being really tedious, possibly I am resigning myself to that every week!

Yes, so possibly I'll just not bother. Although it was Leap Day today, so maybe, if I'd plucked up the courage to talk to her, she would have proposed to me!

Hmm... possibly I've gotten off lucky, as I really can't afford to get married right now. Gosh, she's going to be heart broken! Poor girl.

Anyway, welcome to my daydream/your nightmare!

Tuesday, 28 February 2012

Bad Guys Wear Bow-Ties

I think I may have been real-life flirting in reality with an actual-life girl today! It's hard for me to be sure, because I'm not entirely sure how flirting actually works when you're sober, but the eye contact and giggling definitely felt really flirty:




And at one point we high fived!

It's incredibly exciting to think that I may be confident enough to flirt with girls now, especially seeing as I am soon to move back to Manchester, and there are so many gingers in that city that I suspect that they may have a secret hive somewhere (oh what it would be to find the Queen!). Anyway, I've emailed this girl a spreadsheet so we'll see what happens: ***


*** Yeah, but seriously, no. I have not actually emailed a girl a spreadsheet as a seduction tactic (although I have emailed her a spreadsheet for another reason, and I am aware that a good spreadsheet will often make a girl run soggy around her particulars).

Although today was just a pleasant, and possibly flirtatious, conversation, it has made me wonder what I will do in terms of this blog if I do actually get talking to a girl I like. Will I:

  1. Not mention her in the blog, just in case,
  2. Not tell her about the blog, just in case, or
  3. Tell her about the blog straight up, just in case she's actually mental, and won't mind reading all this

I don't know!

I have though decided that my attitude to life needs to be:

Be 100%, Undiluted, Triple-Distilled Willis, and hope that all works out somehow

Which is similar to, but different from the attitude that some of your 'friends' from high school have adopted, and feel comfortable enough to mention in their Facebook status updates, which is:

I iz just me yeh and if people dnt like it they can suck my fucking shithole

No! That's a terrible attitude! Although I intend to be myself as much as I can be, there's no reason why we shouldn't modify ourselves slightly to keep the interlocking thighs of oneself and society slickly greased and thrusting between one another. If it was good for everyone to just behave exactly as they see fit, then we'd be at the mercy of:


The Bum-Pinchers




The Opera-Trumpers


And the Face-Stabbers


And that just wouldn't do at all now would it!

Yes, so hopefully I will somehow straddle the line between outrageously out-there and properly proper in the same way that Danny Dyer so gracefully straddles the line between chav and fuckwit.


Uncertainty Certainly

I've either just done a very good deed, OR I've sent a young girl off to be murdered...


One of them situations.

Having just enjoyed a cup of coffee I bought at Preston Bus Station (I am a proper dirty bastard really), I boarded the bus, being far too tired to partake in my usual stroll home. At the same time as I got on, a young girl got on too and asked the driver if he knew the location of a place she had a flyer for. The bus driver said:

"No,"

clearly antsy to get off, so I said,

"Ere y'are love, what's the address? I'll check it on my phone,"

and I did so, and it turned out that the location of this place was in between Leyland and Moss Side, meaning she was probably on the right bus.

Anyway, like I said, the bus driver was anxious to get off, so he did, and we all sat down. As we were trundling down the large intestine of Preston town centre, I continued looking at the map on my phone and realised that, although far away, the post code she had given me was a fairly straight forward walk from Leyland train station. I told her this, and it was round about then that I noticed what it said on her flyer, something along the lines of:

"Do you want the hurt to go away?"

It was an advert for a church group which I have now looked up, and what she's going to is here. I didn't know that then though, but I do know that the sort of things that motivate someone to travel out to the arse end of nowhere based on a flyer are generally quite powerful, so I thought I should help by drawing her a map to guide her. She seemed like the sort of person that organised religion, or just organised community, can actually be of benefit to, as she was clearly:

  • Scared,
  • Lost, and
  • Looking for something more.
People say that religion is a crutch for the weak, but you don't see those same people tipping handicapped people out of their wheel chairs and shouting:

"You only need it because you're less able than the rest of us!"

It's not for me, but religious support groups do help a lot of people, and I hope she finds what she's looking for.

Although maybe I should have asked her what was up? Rather than just giving her directions to the outskirts of Leyland, a place that I have mockingly referred to as:

  • Greyland,
  • Don't stayland,
  • Go awayland, and
  • Not todayland

Or maybe, as a stranger on a bus, just giving her directions was about as much as was appropriate? I gave her my umbrella too anyway, because it was raining, and she clearly needed shelter more than I did.

Oh, and in case you're worried:
  • She wasn't a boy,
  • She looked over 16, and
  • The church wasn't Catholic.
Yeah, sorry to bring that up Catholics, but it has gone on hasn't it and we can't really pretend otherwise! Unless you're the Pope obviously. Naughty, naughty Pope!

Recent Mistakes
  1. Continuing to buy coffee from Preston Bus Station, despite the fact that the very same vending machine I go to recently gave a local councillor an ultra-rare form of the bubonic plague.
  2. Not warning the girl that the folk of Leyland all of two heads, and that they eat with their feet and walk with their hands.
  3. Possibly not asking her why she was going there in the first place.
Analysis

You can't always help people as much you'd like to, but sometimes all people need is helping on their way. And an umbrella.

Car Chase

As a writing exercise at uni, I was asked to write a fast-paced scene, or 'car chase,' as they're called in the writing biz. What I ended up doing was writing the words:

Fast Paced Scone

and then underlining them. Then, to pass the time as the exercise went on, I came on here to blog about it.

I don't really like writing exercises, or having to write in a room full of other people. I was given a piece of wheat the other week and asked to write about that. This is what I wrote:

Chaff!

I couldn't even be bothered to underline it. Someone else was given an item that looked like a fist full of Hula Hoops that had been nimbly mashed into a charmingly porous sphere. Wish I'd been given that to write about! I definitely would have underlined anything that I'd written about that.

Monday, 27 February 2012

Inconsistent Instants

What I thought

"I should probably just lay off with the internet dating for a bit, it was taking up time that I should have been spending on uni work, and was at time a source of stress."

What I actually did

Just messaged some girl innit.

Recent Mistakes

  1. Did the opposite of what I planned on doing
  2. Got my elbow caught between a door frame and a door when I was closing it
Analysis

Fuck it, I'm paid up until the end of the month so I may as well get my blingers worth.

Introductions...

I should probably introduce myself right?

Well, my name is Willis Imile. The name is kind of a play on words, as it sounds almost like 'simile' when said fast, and I love similes like the Easter bunny hates reality. I realise it kind of sounds like 'Willy Simile,' perhaps, but what can you do eh?

I'm a Creative Writing student at Salford University. I was originally doing Environmental Studies, and then Wildlife Conservation, but it became apparent throughout my studies that the world is probably fucked as a result of global warming, so why don't I just do something I'll enjoy? So yeah, sorry Mother Nature, but this is what you get for all the sharks and camel spiders you sunlight loving psychopath!

I thought I was 6ft, but I'm actually 5ft11in. Possibly I shrank, or just became more compressed after falling on my head.

One of my ears is higher than the other which makes me look like I have a wonky face when I wear glasses. I don't actually need glasses mind, although I did once fake an eye test to get a free subscription pair when I was a child. After a bit, they started to actually damage my vision though so I got rid of them.

I like vintage clothes like this shirt:

That's probably a much larger picture than you need, but I can't work out how to shrinken it so you'll have to just deal with it!

I'm a classic German beauty.

My former jobs include: postman, methadone dispenser, and Dimensions expert.

I like being vague sometimes.

My head is XXL in hat sizes, meaning I am literally 'big-headed.'

I've just realised that some of the people I grew up with that had kids in high school have now enrolled their children in that very same high school. The circle of life! I wonder which one of my high school pals will be the first grandparent?

I do a lot of strolling (as opposed to 'walking' or 'stomping about'). A good stroll is preferable to a walk because:

  • I have flat feet so walking about can make my legs tired (which makes the rest of me tired (which led to depression and anxiety before I found out why I was so tired all the time!)). I make sure I'm wearing a good pair of running shoes too to stop my water bird-like feet from complaining.
  • A stroll is so much more relaxing! If you rush about, you feel like you're in a rush, but if you just think, "I'll get there when I get there," your mind chills out, or 'chillaxes' as a bell end might describe it.
  • It's good to listen to music when you're out for a wander, so why not delay how long one will be wandering for?
Here is a hand drawn picture of me out for a stroll anyway. It's a really terrible likeness:




As you can see, I am walking in the 'classic' strolling pose (hands in pockets with jacket tucked behind arms), and I'm pondering the finer things in life.

The other good thing about a stroll is that, because you are not in a rush, you will observe a lot more and feel happy to stop and have a good old gander at things. Here is another hand-drawn picture of me admiring the flora on a recent trip to the forest moon of Endor:



It was a pleasant planetoid to take a stroll upon, but unfortunately I was accosted by pikey ewoks and had to have at them with a stuffed flamingo which I happened to have secreted about my person:



I struck that tiny, alien bear until my taxidermed bird was little more than a sharpened stick:



Which brings me to the last aspect about me I currently care to reveal to you:

I will often find myself lost in pointless flights of fancy.

Sunday, 26 February 2012

Geek Dating (or not)

After a three-day, Christmas drinking session left me feeling particularly sad face, I decided to join up to a dating website. For geeks. As I am into geeky things. And girls. So it seemed like the perfect mix!

I met my first girlfriend online (cool I know!), and my experience then was that she was the only person I spoke to, and we were going out within about a month. "So," thought I, "I'll just sign up, and I shall have a new lady friend within a matter of weeks." Yeah, turns out that my first experience was kind of a fluke!

The first thing I noticed after joining the site was that the vast majority of the girls on there hadn't logged on in months. The second thing I noticed was that there were loads of male members who were signing in regularly. The technical term for that being a 'sausage fest,' although there is probably some sort of cool term for it when it's online, possibly some horrible acronym like:

Internet
Sausage
Hangout.

Yeah, it was a proper ISH!

Anyway, I kind of persevered, and also joined Oasis.com, and got talking to a lovely ginger girl (gingers are my favouritest!) who was wonderfully weird and massively creative. I emailed her a few times then thought I'd go all out and send her a big email that clocked in at an impressive 4,000 words. My friend advised me:

"Don't send her an email that long, she'll think you're weird."

As he was telling me this though, he had a three month old cat suckling on his chest, so I was loathe to take his advice. "What's that with the cat?" you ask. Well, his cat clings to this chest and suckles at the fleecy collar of his jumper. It's highly disturbing, and about as close as an adult male can get to breast feeding a cat. It's a bit of an arsehole that animal, I was staying over that weekend, and it spent all night attacking my face so I couldn't sleep. I tried locking it out on the second night, and I was all snuggled up in bed when I heard a loud bang only to look up and see the door opening with the cat clinging on to the handle. Like I said, arsehole! It's massive too for three months old; I suspect black magic.

Oh yeah, anyway, so I sent her this massive email! It was dead good, it had a big finale and everything. But five days later she informed me that she'd started seeing someone else so that was that! Hopefully that was actually the case, and she wasn't just freaked out by me. I'd hate for someone to find me freaky before I get chance to get on to doing some truly freaky shit. Ha ha, a joke! Here are some pictures I drew to try and impress her:




This is how I impress girls! Well, I do have a few other tricks up my sleeve I suppose, but this is one of my favourites. She was into bananas by the way, hence the bananas!


Another girl I got talking to seemed very glad to meet me, but then it felt like it was going really badly, as if she wasn't that into talking to me. I realised what it was though, it was just that she never used exclamation marks. Exclamation marks!!! The problem with this is that I cannot tell what sort of mood someone is in unless they massively overuse punctuation. Consider this:

'I went to the park today.'

It just reads so sad doesn't it, as if I went to the park to lay flowers beside the pond in which my ex-girlfriend drowned in after she got into a brawl with a meth-abusing swan. Just compare it to this:

'I went to the park today!'

"Whoa!" you're thinking, "That sounds like an amazing time!" There was probably ice cream, and puppies, and sunshine, and a shooting range at which you could fire paint balls at clowns. "What a super sounding day!"

Yes, so as you can imagine, I had no idea how she felt about things. I ended up not hearing from her anyway because she was too tired to reply. Which is also the reason a couple of other girls stopped talking to me. You probably feel tired right now reading this, as I am just incredibly tiring it seems! Ha, no, I don't want to accuse them of lying, I am a pretty special guy so I'm sure they'd talk to me if they could. I am well special in fact.

Oh, and one girl added me on Facebook and then never spoke to me. So I'm pretty sure that she just used me to up her friend count (a 21 year old girl with 544 friends must be doing something underhand!)! You feel dirty and wrong after something like that! Here I am, boldly searching for love and companionship, and she uses me to give herself the illusion of a slight increase in her popularity percentage! So, ironically, adding me as her 'friend' is what led to me disliking her. She is no longer in my friend list anyway, although I was sorry to see her go in a way as I'd kind of got used to having 10 'friends' and going back to single digits felt like a big step backwards. Ha, I do have more friends than that. I have slightly more friends than that!

I did get talking to another amazing girl though! The most amazingest one yet even. We started to email one another, and then something very unusual happened. I got a reply from her which was actually longer than the message I sent her! That has literally never happened before! I do go on (and on (oh yeah, and on some more)) in emails, so to have someone out-ramble me was amazing! We also had loads in common, and she was incredibly up front and open so I wasn't worrying:

"Hmm, I wonder what she's thinking."

because I knew, because she told me. At the end of the first week, the word count of all our emails was 42,000 words (I checked!), which is longer than the novel 'Big Fish!' Also, we'd met in person twice, and she was just exactly like I expected, and we held hands which was very sweet. She did warn me, however, that there was another situation that may potentially mean that nothing could ever happen between us. And that situation did come to fruition last night. Gah! I tried playing it cool, but then I woke up this morning, and felt very sad and so I wept and ate some dried toast. Yeah, and in case you're wondering, tears are not really an adequate replacement for butter! After I'd got a hold of myself, or 'manned up' as is the common expression now, I sent her an email which wasn't too embarrassing, but did kind of have this as an undercurrent:

"You have made me very sad."

She felt really bad then, and I felt bad too because I'd sobered up by this point and hadn't cried in hours. Yes, so I sent her another email letting her know I'll be fine (and I will), and that I look forward to remaining good friends with her, because I do really have a space in my life for a friend like her :-)

Yeah, so that was the last 10 days anyway. "What, you were blubbering over a girl you'd known for ten days!?" Yes, I'm an emotional guy and I form bonds with people very quickly, so just leave me alone you flapjack! Ha ha, yes, I am a bit rubbish, but talking to this girl, who was so open and honest, has fully made me realise that I need to be 100% myself and just deal with whatever problems that causes. I tried being a different person last year, and it was a shambles (and bits of the real me kept leaking out of my ears when I forgot to hold my head on tight).

Here are some pictures I drew that girl anyway, she was well impressed with them!



We were talking about what a dick head Scrappy Doo was. He reminds me of the sort of mentally aggressive hard-men that you sometimes get in Preston actually, just guys who go round causing trouble until they eventually get banned from everywhere. One case was even more extreme than that; the local newspaper headline said it all:

PRESTON MAN FROM HELL BANISHED

We were also talking about what a dick head Shiva the God of War was too, and then I thought:

"Aww, they'd made a sweet couple actually!"

So I drew them having some fist-involving sexual foreplay.





She likes dragons, but it was very early in the morning...




She likes Chewbacca and 'Daddy Push' from Noel Fielding's Luxury Comedy. She did not, however, like this picture of Chewbacca making love to Daddy Push, or "violating him," as she put it. And yes, they are in space.




I described something as "lurking like Denmark," to her, then said, "woops, I mean Belgium actually." She thought (incorrectly) that Denmark was actually the lurkier of the two, which inspired this drawing.




I drew more, but some of them I probably shouldn't put on the internet! One of the ones I drew will probably be enough to get me into hell, if it exists. If it doesn't exist, I'm slightly worried that reality may snap it into existence just to make sure I get what I deserve!

So it is a little sad that nothing will happen with that girl, as when you meet someone who you have an amazing connection with you hope for something more, but it's not that sad! There are loads of things sadder, like the recent death of popular crew-cut aficionado Kim Jong Il, or that scene in 'Babe 2: Pig in the City' which always makes me cry (yeah... that's not a joke unfortunately). And anyway, it doesn't always do us good to get exactly what we want, just look at Bigfoot. He used to be called Bubba Regularfoot until he was granted three wishes by a genie, those three wishes being:

  1. Massive feet,
  2. To be covered in hair from head to toe, and
  3. A Buzz Lightyear action figure (it was Christmas 1995).
Obviously that was all well and good, at first, but he soon started to despise people for the enjoyment they took from his awesome appearance, feeling that the pleasure should be his and his alone, so he ran away to live in the forest, alone, forever (he's also an immortal, well-hung time traveller from some wishes he made with a different genie, which is why people saw him before 1995).





Anyway, I'm possibly off the internet dating now. I mean, I was planning on now explaining how it has been taking up time I should be spending on uni work, but a girl I'd not heard from in a few weeks (and didn't expect to hear from again) has just got back in touch, so I am now back in the game possibly!

Christ, here's the list anyway:

Recent Mistakes

  1. Being too much myself
  2. Not being myself enough
  3. Spending up to six hours a day emailing girls when I should have been doing uni work
  4. Giving out my Facebook name to just anyone
  5. Staring at my laptop screen and thinking, "why doesn't anybody like me?"
Analysis

I need to stop doing most of that! Except for number 1, if anything I need to be even more me than ever!

Hopefully this blog will help me iron out the wrinkles in my brain. I think I kind of feel compelled to explain myself to people, so this blog is going to end up being half confessional, half therapy session, half shoddy drawing, and nine eighths stupid humour.

Fuck, it's 12:48am? But bed time is 12:00am!

Night night!

wILLIS

Crisp Packet Nip-on

Post 1.

Err...

I hated the idea of blogging, but I've been asked to do one, and have just realised that I have a compulsive need to explain myself, so let's just get on with it eh?

This is just a quick post to explain my background picture:



I used to be a postman, and I saw this sorry sight one dreary Valentine's morning. I don't know how it came about, but here are the most likely options:

  1. Someone got DUMPED
  2. Someone received this as a gift, and left it hanging outside their bin as a clear message: "Wooers beware! This one is not to be wooed!"
  3. It was a pervy midget in a bear costume who had accidentally asphyxiated himself whilst having a crafty, early morning bin wank (happens every day).
Whatever the reason, it is a perfect visual image of love gone awry!

So why is it my background? Well, because I fall in love all the time, and it often goes awry, and will likely be a constant topic on here! I try to find amusement in it though, and it's nice to feel love all the time, even if is as slippery and shocking as a pair of mud-wrestling, electric eels.

Anyway, if I'm the bear in the picture, I like to think that I'm climbing out of the bin rather than being dumped into it, ready for whatever hair raising fiasco comes next!

So yes, I am romantic as fuck!

And hello! I'm Willis Bangs, and it's a pleasure to meet you

:-)