I am genuinely confuzzled. I’m even more confuzzled that my spell checker is not having a hairy canary over the word confuzzled, but I digress. I am confuzzled.

So anyway, I went to get my haircut today since seeing where I was going was becoming difficult and India works just around the corner and I got told off last time for not going and seeing her, so I went and saw her. Cue much hugging and much squeezing. I was at one point tempted to kiss her. In fact next time I see her I think I’m going to kiss her. The reasons for this are in no way clear to me. It’s not so much a desire as a feeling that it is the required thing to do, I can’t quite place my finger on it.

Well I can, I want to do it because I feel I can. I want to fuck her because I feel that I could fuck her. I’m kinda wondering if the agreement still stands or if it’s the case that she’s had sex, her needs have been fulfilled and that’s as far as it goes with her.



I’m always slightly suspicious when a woman wants to hug me lots and squeezes me very tight.

I’m doing that manic thing where I take random events and am like “Ah, this is the universe guiding me to my destiny.”


Is this mania or am I just thriving on stress? Like paintballing, I find it incredibly stressful, but I love it. I’m alive, alert, focused. My mind is racing at a billion miles an hour; there’s so much going on that I’m not even consciously processing it, I’m just letting it happen.

I have this hunch that the bipolar mind basically needs to be flooded with information, it needs pressure, it needs to be constantly working at the limit of its capacity. It fits with the idea of it being an evolutionary adaption; it explains why small things I find difficult, tiny things stress me out and make me crack, but a full blown emergency is like water off a duck’s back to me. There has to be a use for the energy or it gets directed inwards and into unhealthy behaviors.

I have this hunch that bipolar disorder is maladaptive in modern society because life is basically just too easy.

We’re half a million points down and I’m looking at the mission board and there’s a mission to retrieve a create worth half a million from just outside the other teams base. Everyone else on the team is despondent, everyone feels that the game is lost and there’s me and I’m like “piece of piss”. Nothing can break my confidence, I know that we’re going to win, I’ve been running around all day and I’m tired but so full of energy that it just doesn’t matter.  Everyone’s telling me that the mission is impossible and I’m like “O RLY?”.

I’m wondering if mania and hypomania are just stress reactions and coping mechanisms.

For Lola.

No one else will understand this, so move on, nowt to see her.

The Canadian Mountie is obviously keeping his options open. He’s keeping tabs on you and “laying the foundations” or I suppose in this instance, keeping one foot in the door incase of future carnal emergencies, making sure the foundations are kept in a good state of repair.

The Cricketer: The last person on earth I would talk to about my relationships with women is my mum. If I ever talked to my sisters it would never be about relationships either. I go to my female friends. The Cricketer obviously likes you, not just as a sex thing, he sees you as someone he can talk to on a level and talking to you reassures him. You’re like a safety blanket. The advice may not even be as important to him as simply talking to you and having the feeling that you care.

Mr Schoolboy I’m not sure about. It’s unplayer like not to actually meet up with the woman that you’re trying to sleep with. The one thing men can usually always find time for is women they like so I assume this one is doing the same as The Canadian Mountie and keeping a foot in the door. This may or may not be because of any number of reasons.

Mr A game is terrified of you or a boring human being but he’s hoping something will happen.

The Personal Trainer’s girl friend sucks in bed, not in a good way either, and his “successful” life is boring the crap out of him and he equates you with fun and adventure. You’d be surprised how many men are bored shitless in relationships with women everyone assumes makes them happy because  they’re good looking.

Evil white men!

How curious is this? My response is this. My challenge to anyone who thinks like this is to give up any technology or philosophy invented in the west since about 1445.

I really do worry about this kind of article and the sentiment that it communicates because I feel that it really is starting to become normal and mainstream and it is, intentional or not, causing racial hatred. I remember growing up that black people seemed odd because they seemed so conscious of being black but now I see white men becoming very conscious of being white men. There is actually a new identity being hammered into being that never really existed before.

Some white men beat themselves up because of it, but a lot more white men do what everyone does when they’re attacked, they dig their heels in. The greatest help to neo-nazis and white supremacists, especially in a country and at a time when immigration is such a hot topic,  is social justice warriors hammering white males at every opportunity for their own failure to adapt to western society. The social justice warriors, in their racist diatribes are making racism acceptable.

Therefore I regard them as being as dangerous, if not more dangerous than neo-nazis and white supremacists because they can get their ideas published and distributed to a mass audience in a way that neo-nazis and white supremacists could only dream of and with far bigger impact. If you tell people that they should be racist they resist it, if you tell someone that other racial groups are out to remove them from their own cultural institutions, and universities to the west are what mosques are to the Arabs, centres of cultural propagation, then people will fight back.

I’m not sure I want to be around to see that.


Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans……

Men getting ratty over women is at least as ancient as literature, isn’t it?

I find that I’m still ragingly angry about the India situation. Okay, she’s a free agent, she can do what she wants. B on the other hand has a history of just deciding friendship doesn’t really matter whenever his dick is twitching. The fact that he’s trying it on with Dakota annoys me. What kind of mentality is it where you can say “Yeah, you’re my bro, I love you like a brother, oh by the way I banged the girl you love, I hope we’re still cool”. It’s not just insensitive, it’s retarded. It’s weighing up a fuckig close friend, or a quick shag and deciding the quick shag is worth more.

Plato tried the same thing a couple of years back when he split with his gf. Dakota raises her eyebrow at me in the way that only she can and says “Has Plato just split with his gf” and I confirmed it and she says, “I thought so, he’s sent me like eight messages in the past two days, none of which I’ve replied to”.

So I’m like, what the fuck is this all about? I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t try anything on with a woman my mate had any interest in, I just wouldn’t. There are no circumstances where it would be worth it as I see it. There are no circumstances where this rationally makes any kind of sense. There are no circumstances where this ends well and also there’s that thing where you have to look in the mirror and know that you’re the kind of person that screws your mates over and, you know something? I like myself too much to do that. I like being the guy that has higher principles than getting my dick wet.

While I was contemplating this in the shower it suddenly dawned on me, running mentally through the women that I’ve slept with that I’ve actually chased remarkably few of them; they come to me, like India. Certainly I’m not like B who basically trawls bars looking for drunk women to take back to his place or pesters his mates for weeks……actually full story:

B one day, after years of the Tuesday drinking club, asks why he isn’t invited. I point out that it’s open to anyone really. My gut feeling tells me that this is all about India and sure enough one night I’m out with him and another mate and B brings up the fact that he hasn’t been invited again and says to our mate, “It’s because he’s afraid that I’m going to cock block him with India” and at the time I had a think about and concluded that was pretty much it. I knew full well that if he could get in a situation where he could buy India a load of booze and then bang her he would.

Higher me dismissed this all as paranoia, put trust in my “bro” and invited him and sure enough he’s buying round after round, shot after shot and I knew exactly what was happening.

Me though, I don’t have to get women drunk, just chatting to them for long enough works and there comes this point where they realise that sex is available, that they can trust me not to tell anyone so they feel safe and in control of  the situation and I’m not exactly harsh on the eye, I’m intelligent, apparently interesting. I end up sleeping with women who actually like me.

Speaking of which I think I’ve got a hookup sorted…………toodles.