Wednesday 13th February 2008

Wednesday 13th February 2008.

It's my brother's Birthday today, Happy Birthday Tommy.

The sun is shining, I am so happy. I walked to work smiling all the way this morning because it was sunny. Still too cold for my reptilian nature to go out in less than three T-shirts, a sweat shirt, a fleece, scarf, gloves and my fat suit but it was so bright and everything looked clean and colourful. I'll be glad to be able to wash my fat suit and put it away for a couple of months. It is a big wool, camel coloured, shapeless coat that literally adds five clothes sizes to me, but I don't care it's the warmest coat I've ever had and I will cry and mourn it forever when it dies.

I've just had a right obnoxious git in the shop. He was a young bloke who came in with his girlfriend and then thought it would be funny to humiliate her. Poor lass was only a bit of a kid, early twenties maybe and she spent the length of their browse with her head down going puce. I probably lost a sale but what the hell, he needed putting in his place.

“Go on, get a big fucking dildo to shove up you. How about one of these nurse dresses, you'll look like a right slut in that. If you don't start giving me some pussy, I'm going to get one of those handcuffs and tie you to the bed and ram it (presumably his boyhood) right up your arse.”

And then he addressed me.

“Here love,” He actually clicked his fingers... aresehole. I didn't like the way he'd spoken to his girlfriend, I didn't like the way he talked generally and he certainly wasn't going to call me to heel like some subservient dog. “I fink she's frigid like. I want something to make her as horny as a fucking rabbit. She never wants me to give her a good seeing to, like. If this doesn't work I'm going to chuck her and get a bird who does like cock. I bet you like cock, working here don't you?”

I blatantly ignored him and turned my attention to the girl. “I've got just the thing for you love. Here, this is called a penis extension.” I'd purposefully picked up the small, one and a half inch extension sheath. At this point I looked the boy up and down put it back and said, “No actually I think you'll find this three inch one better. What you do is just put it on the end of the knob...well his penis anyway. It won't shut him up but at least you'll be able to feel something other than hot air and if you do want a bit of peace we always have the bondage tape.”

Once it sank in that he was being insulted his retort was short and sweet, “Fuck off.” and he stormed out leaving his girlfriend in his wake.

I advised her to get shot of him and told her that she deserved respect but it will have fallen on deaf ears. She didn't reply, but if she had I expect she'd have said, “But I love him.” I just hope he doesn't give her a hard time over it. I don't have to worry about him ringing in a complaint about me, a Neanderthal like that would never be able to look up the phone number.

Thinking about it though I should have looked to the future. When he's washed up at twenty-five because no woman in a fifty mile radius will look at him, he'd probably become my best customer and join the legions of lonely blokes coming in for their mucky DVD's to jack off to.

Apart from that particular piece waste of insipid sperm, today has been really good, I've been busy and felt like a little cupid making everybody's Valentine dreams come true. I only have half a dozen games left, novelties and toys have all done well and lingerie is going out as fast as I can stock the shelves. I've made an executive decision to burn off half a dozen boxes of chocolate willies as 'promo' and am giving a willie to every lady and those men who want one... and I haven't touched a single one myself, how good am I?

We went out last Saturday night. It was so good not having to be up at seven on Sunday morning. We went to a death metal night. Why? God knows, but it was an experience.

Btown has just had permission to hold a summer festival and is jumping on the festival bandwagon with a modest allowance of two and a half thousand people for this, the first year. Russ has been roped in to officiate in some way. He's pretty up on his music and knows his way around a sound system.

Saturday night was the official launch party. Oh ,my God.

When I was young I drove several sets of foster parents insane with Black Sabbath, Rush and Deep Purple. These bands were considered the devil's spawn. I can remember the taunts of, “That's not music, that's just a noise that is.” Sabbath were closer to Perry Como than they were to this lot on Saturday.

I consider myself an expert on death metal because I sat through no less than five...five... bands. Prior to the first band I was enthusiastic. I'm open minded enough to try something new at close range. How bad could it be?

Despite being loud, crap, useless, and idiotic... despite all this... they were tolerable, just. I was quite interested in the bassist, his music and creativity anyway. He played a piece of drainpipe. I have no idea how but he'd fashioned a bass guitar out of a lump of old drainage pipe and played it brilliantly. The had a female drummer, which reversed the norm and I wanted her to be brilliant... she wasn't. The vocalist (I could never call him a singer) was poor and the lead guitar, not bad. I neither know nor care what they were called. The pipe was different though and probably the highlight of the night.

After that rabble I was ready for something good. The next band was worse, the one after comparable and the one after that the same. The headliners, a band from Manchester, didn't fil me with any optimism for improvement either.

The lead singer was a pleasant enough chappie with a soft Irish accent which will get me every time ... but when he opened his gob to yell, dear Lord I was ready for calling a priest. It was like being in a demonic farmyard.

To be fair, I did take time out of my apathy to listen to the sounds coming form his voice box. Being completely objective I have to say they were spectacular and amazing. I would not have believed a human being could make something that loud come out of his mouth and it did have a certain purity and it has to be said one hell of a range. If he can do that just roaring, I can only imagine what he'd be capable of if he ever decided to add a lyric and actually attempt a word. Unfortunately human beings don't live long enough for him to evolve that far, I think it took five million years for the rest of us to acomplish speech.

I know every word of every death metal (It is Death metal, isn't it and not Deaf, or def?) song ... well certainly not written .. um... created. There only is one word and it goes like this ...

.... RRRRRROOOOOAAAAARRRRRRRR.

If only my Russ could make that noise when we're in bed, hell fire I'd see him in a different light. Mind, I wouldn't want him to do it often, I should imagine that roaring like that every time he got to the short strokes would get old,very, very quickly. Once wouldn't hurt thought, would it? Well it might hurt him, if he managed that, I don't think he'd ever speak again.

When this young man spoke he enunciated clearly and in introducing one of his creations he told us that the title was, Better off Dead. I gave us all a challenge to see if we could pick out those words at all. No, it was impossible and we failed.

The launch party has left me full of concerns for the up-coming festival. If this is representative of the music on offer then it's going to be a complete disaster. The room that night was filled with manky fourteen year-olds (despite it being and over eighteen venue) all trying to bounce each other into next week.

From there we went from the ridiculous to the lesser but still ridiculous. We got to the Gauntlet in time to see Elvis' second set. I'm not a fan of Elvis impersonators in any way shape or form but just to hear real words sung with a real tune was bliss.

I am in an excellent mood today.