Surreal as a donkey with two arses ken, the past few weeks en aw. To cut down an incredibly uninteresting story into tiny, choppy little pieces of nonsense, I got onto a masters course, failed 80 percent of it, had to repeat this 80 percent and managed to pass everything. I'm a freak, the poxiest feckin student ever to make it onto that program, but somehow, despite it all, I'm still here and things are on track right now. Hey, if nothing else, it gives a cunt a bit to discuss, I've got a couple of how to study like a mothefucker posts lined up in a bit, cause in my case anyway, there's a particular, messy, scatterbrain but correct and efficient way to study, especially when the horrible looming cunt Bayes Bollocks is breathing down your neck and willing to put something nasty up your bum. Oh, and having to repeat 80 percent of your course in two weeks doesn't help either.
So the thing is, I'm happy as shite right now. The past few days I've been coasting along, walking on sunshite, seeing smiles, giggles on the face of the lassie, the wrath of the iron. Dublin continues its descent into socialistic nonsense and ugly squalor with that smarmy prick Paul Murphy, gay little bastard, plastered over every inch of the capital en aw. Drives a lad to the loony bin.
A cunt is twatty sure, used to be, or at least was when I started the blog en aw. I picked the name Francis Begbie and the name The Soul is Not a Smithy because I was angry, bitter, nonplussed. I was getting well worn dog pooed on the carpet cougar bum, not the Eastern European lassie, and blamed everyone else for this. I was doing a course I despise and had left be a broken cunt. Essentially, it was just a pint of bitter, a collection of vitriolic rants from a loser. I've never ever tried to pass myself off (or at least I hope not) as someone else. I'm closer to Leonard from The Big Bang Theory rather than some mad player lad in all fairness, but that leads into something big, and its a big part of game or even things in general. Some of these earlier posts are embarrassing man.
I've been on fire. The happiness ken. The rantings and ravings of a loony toones cunts. It seeps out through every pore, you are a virus and everyone wants to get infected. Get talking to a lassie on a dopamine buzz and suddenly your social skills hit fecking Warp Nine level, and people start lining themselves up with you. Suddenly you are the prize ken.
So what be the craic here? Well, right now before things take a Jimmy NcNulty and I'm back with more feck off posts, I'd like to think I learned a couple of things from the past few weeks.
First, yous need to destroy your ego, or at least be aware of ego traps. The problem with ego is that it tends to repackage itself in novel and increasingly obfuscating ways, so by coming to one realization, you end up missing the bigger, faster, deeper stronger stuff underneath the whole sorry affair. Having something like Frost's post on an std, or by failing a massive chunk of a course will do that to a cunt and just fuck with your head in a million and one different ways.
Second, a lad has to be careful with the stuff on blogs like this. You know what makes yous a knob of a human being? Feeling depressed. Girls pick up on it, lads do as well. Sometimes a lad or lassie can find himself in the doldrums and then its like a big jenga thing where yous just end up alienating every mad lad around yous en aw.
So yeah, for the first time in a bit, things are coming up Franco. Some more posts wrapping up what academia is like, some how to study for university stuff maybe, and then prepare to get the fuck out of Ireland en aw, cause Ireland be the wanker that farts on a lads balls.
Oh, and yeah, apologies to not replying to comments and wes be away. Good luck lads!