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United Kingdom

Member Since 2004

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Tuesday Jan 25, 2005

Jan 25, 2005
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A thread on another forum that I frequent was asking what we always thought we wanted to be when we grew up. It's quite amazing how many people wanted to be an astronaut, but maybe not as amazing as the tale of a five-year old girl who wanted to drive lorries for a living.

Me? I wanted to be a goalkeeper to begin with. Always desperate to fit in, not being able to kick a ball for shit doesn't help much out on the football field so the only way to work around it is to risk a kick in the teeth or two. I grew tall later in life. I played for our school team.

We lost our first match 7-1.

My performance wasn't that bad though, to be honest - good enough to secure me a place for two more games where we won 5-1 and then 3-2. In my last game I was kicked in the face by a member of the opposing team, who later transpired to be my girlfriend's then boyfriend. It's funny how things work out.

Alas though, the only reason I was there was due to the normal keeper being injured - as soon as he was fit again, the inbred nature of the whole team shoveled me out. Dejected, I stopped turning up for training - there really was very little point.

The new thing to want then was to be a computer programmer. This was quickly curbed after hearing all the horror stories about What It's Like To Work For Electronic Arts, and various other companies that they swallow up like the giant bukkake-corporation they are.

Last up, I wanted to be a rock god - my old musical hijinxs were the only thing that kept me going through further education, and when they stopped for various reasons not involving me, so did said education.

And any ambition I ever had to do anything special. Besides, you know, get drunk, have fun, make some friends, etc...

I even stopped doing that after I stopped drinking - I was far too cunty to continue, and after drunkenly finding myself at a half-German student's house after a particularly heavy night out, eating crisps and getting increasingly creeped out by her snoring flatmate, it was obvious things weren't going to plan.

Incidentally, when I next met up with Sarah (half-German girl), she was due to meet me in a pub in town. There I was, sat with my pint of Snakebite and black, reading a copy of Guitarist. Hoooohhahhaahahahaha. Cunt.

About three years down the line from then, I'm sat in the corner of my own lounge in my own house, wearing the most excellent grey jumper I've ever seen, although it's getting a bit tired now. Besides the fact that I've got to put some stuff in the loft soon and I've got to go to work tomorrow, everything is peachy.

Everything should be peachy.

It isn't.

Why? Lack of ambition? Lack of intelligence? Lack of drive? I mean, for fuck's sake, I've been with my girlfriend for three years and while she's gone out I'm sat here on my own listening to heavy metal and looking at a "pin-up" site (come on, admit it. It's PORN).

What's wrong with me? Why do I dredge up things that I want to forget all the time, why do I constantly make myself miserable by thinking...

Why on earth does "Trouble" by Coldplay remind me of a time at my brother's house where I was with my ex and we were getting a bit horny and my MUM AND DAD SAW US? AAAAAAaaaaggggggghh

Sigh.

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