The Thing About Love Matt Terry Download 'The Thing About Love' on iTunes
Had to put up with a whole day of hearing how good the Brits were.
Rich Clarke was bigging it up, saying it was the best night he’d had in a long time. The Bassman sounded still drunk. James Barr got the night off, so just decided to spend it at the Brits. All right for some. On my nights off I spend them staring out the window trying to make people trip up using my mind.
Turns out loads of people I know got to go. Either working, or just blagging their way in.
I never get to go anywhere. The last freebie I got from work was never. I hate all that. People get really funny about being at things. I don’t. I like not being at things.
Emily kept going on about Hay-lor, and how whenever Taylor Swift came on, the camera would go straight to Harry Styles. She said that must be difficult having to perform in front of an ex.
THEY WERE NOT TOGETHER! People keep talking about Hay-lor like they are the greatest romance of our generation. They aren’t. They’re 2 kids who did the showbiz equivalent of meeting down the park to get off with each other…
No one ever invited me down the park…
I don’t claim to be the best driver in the World, even though I passed with no minor faults and have never had an accident that was my fault. But I’m beginning to think I must be fairly near the top on a list of Driving Gods. Just don’t ask me to parallel-park.
I’ve learned to adapt to my surroundings now and know which roundabouts on my way home are going to cause me the most trouble. All of them.
Do people not understand lane discipline? I have to adopt my owl head just to go the right way.
I’ve come up with a new invention to aid the drivers of the south coast when they get to a roundabout. It’s an indicator in the middle of the car for if you intend to go straight. Saying that the people I drive near forget to use the left and right variety so the straight on may be a push.
I’m concerned at the amount of Harlem Shake videos that have hit the internet. There are loads of them. My ideal Harlem Shake video would be 30 seconds of someone doing their job and not wasting anyone’s time. No wonder businesses are in trouble. Do some work.
Fun is for after work. Or so I’ve read…
You don’t become an adult when you get your first job, when you’re 18, or when you get married. You officially become an adult when you spend more than 5 minutes in the air freshener aisle at the supermarket.
I’ve been a proper adult for a few years now as I have every style of air freshener available. The plug-in, the manual spray-er, the automatic variety. The list goes on.
I don’t really get how the automatic one works as it’s supposed to detect movement, but having spent several minutes waving my foot in front of it nothing happened, so I decided it must be out of spray so I had to refill it.
Fortunately I keep some spare innards in the man drawer. Unfortunately I wasn’t quick enough and after weeks of not detecting movement it decided this was the time to show me it’s stuff. It blasted me straight in the eyes.
Ladies, if you’re worried about walking around in the dark late at night, bung a sense and spray in your bag. Any would-be muggers would be deterred by its quick acting stinging action.
The police would also be able to detect their lavender scent...
Even Facebook has started rubbing it in now…
Believe it or not I have enough friends to warrant a Facebook page. I’m not sure why. It just makes me sad and angry in equal measure.
Annoyingly, my friends lives are so much better than mine. They always ask me what celebs I’ve met recently but I’m more concerned about what’s going on with them.
I wish I didn’t now.
24 hours on Facebook is a long time. In just 1 day, added to my News Feed was:
1 Baby born
1 Baby expected
1 self congratulation about how a new business is going
2 new jobs
1 new car
2 Holidays booked
36 Holiday pictures
1 picture of a frog.
Strangely, the frog picture was the only one I liked.
Now of course I’m very happy for all of these things and I’m lucky to be have these people in my life. I just wish my life was slightly better than theirs.
Being a big shot busy media type, my last Facebook post was:
Why do people in the street need to have shouted conversations at 9pm? I’m in bed.
It got no likes.
So the 20 minute job of moving a bookcase on Saturday took all afternoon.
The reason it took so long was it started a domino effect of moving other things in the front room. Moving one book case meant moving a second and a third. After taking all the books, DVDs and pictures out of them I struggled on my own to move the cases around. However, none of them fit properly in the new place, so I spent just as long moving them back and putting all the stuff back in. I tried to justify it by vacuuming behind them.
I measured them beforehand and everything, but didn’t trust the measurements and felt sure they looked like they would fit. I decided to trust my eye and the fact that using my arms to measure the gap rather than the tape measure.
I know how to have a good weekend.
The Sun came out on Sunday so that meant I witnessed the first appearance of the Sun Moron - a bloke in shorts and flip flops walking with a woman in bobble hat and scarf. I would be ashamed of being seen with him. I hope he gets a really bad cold.
At least he’ll have someone to nurse him better though.
I’ve come to the conclusion that over the past few months I definitely would have eaten horsemeat.
I buy all those cheap supermarket spag bols and lasagnes from supermarkets as they make ideal lunches. They’re cheap and quick and not too big.
If anything, the horsemeat in them has probably improved the flavour. I won’t eat them from now on though. Anyway, you can’t find them. They’re so popular the shelves are empty.
Went for a quick walk to the cashpoint again. Had to walk past a load of restaurants. They were packed. This annoyed me.
The rest of the week, these places are empty and I could get a table for one near the back, in the dark quite easily. But the moment a heart appears in the window the place fills up with blokes desperate to make up for the rubbish stuff they arrange for the rest of the year. Like making food shopping a treat.
Got a big weekend ahead. Some major redevelopment of the front room is going to occur. By that I mean I’m moving a bookcase to the other side of the room.
That should fill 20 minutes
When did packaging become so rubbish?
I bought some rice in a so-called re-sealable bag. The problem started as soon as I opened the packet. It spilt all the way down the side, making the re-sealable bit void as the sticky bit they give you is about an inch long and the hole you’ve just ripped in the packet is about a mile.
I poured the rest of the rice into a jar, but most of it missed and went under the microwave and on the floor. That means I’ll be finding rice for the next year and will have to but another packet where this dance will start all over again.
Tomorrow is Valentines Day or as I prefer to call it Thursday. I won’t get any cards again this year. In my house it’s not just the socks that are single. If the name Tragic Adam sticks I will stay that way.
The nickname verges on bullying. I don’t call them Stupid Gillies or Desperate Emily. To their faces anyway…
I won’t be rushing home from work to check the post box. There will only be Chinese restaurant leaflets in there anyway.
I’ll definitely post them in my neighbours letter box…
Pancake Day 2013 went the same way as Pancake Day 2012, 11, 10, 09 and 08. In fact we can go all the way back to 05.
Not one pancake passed my lips.
Got really annoyed at the amount of people talking about what they have on their pancakes. Is that all there is to talk about? Read a book or something.
I don’t put my Christmas tree up so why should I celebrate the minor days when I don’t do anything for the biggies? Pancake Day officially now goes on my list of things I don’t do. With Bonfire Night, New Years Eve. And Charity.
While I think about it, Mothers Day is coming up and I’ll be forced to do something for that. Why isn’t there a single mans day where people buy me stuff? It’s not easy maintaining a DVD collection and having to do my own ironing…
A terrible thing happened today. I saw a really old man wearing the same coat as me. I actually think he was wearing it better than I do. He probably had pancakes as well and enjoys a great retirement.
Yep, I was jealous of a 70 year old… I wish I was retired…
My Mum called for a post-Manchester debrief. I got told off.
Apparently I always act like a teenager when my family gets together and walk off on my own. That’s not true. I only went for breakfast on my own. I wanted to walk off a lot more.
I went on my own because I hate queuing. I refuse to wait in line to spend my money in a place that doesn’t have enough staff to deal with people or accept my money that I’m trying to give to them. No wonder businesses close down and I have no friends.
Really excited by the prospect of pancake pictures on Facebook and Twitter today. Really excited.
I did some baking last night. Nothing tricky and unlike the rest of the UK I didn’t take a picture of it and put it on Facebook or Twitter. Nor did I put it on BBC 2 for an hour. It’s just cooking. Women have been doing it for years.
Anyone that posts a picture of a pancake gets deleted today. I may extend that rule to pictures of babies and cats…
Went to Manchester to see The Lion King with my family.
Had one of the most stressful drives I’ve ever had. Other people really do drive like morons. Lorries shouldn’t be allowed to overtake and if they do they should try looking in their rear-view mirrors rather than just pulling out.
I would pay more tax to have 4 lane motorways so that Lorries can have their own lane. I would even divert my journey just to use them. I only spend money on DVDs anyway so I wouldn’t really miss it.
The lion king is good and has plenty of action in the audience. At the beginning an elephant came down the aisle and sat next to me. Then sang every word during the first half. Annoying fat Manc woman.
Got home and had a quick check to see if I had any matches from last weeks speed dating.
Well that confirms my suspicion that after my attempts at online dating and now speed dating I am as unpopular in the real world as I am in cyber space.
Maybe being happy just isn’t in my future…