It’s true. I’m a massive tosser. Ask anyone. A narcissistic, arrogant, overly confident, annoyingly handsome tosser. Who after years of living alone in Islington’s glamouros Upper Street (back door brag) bought a place in Hackney with his big old lipstick lesbian sister and know self proclaims to be ‘The Hackney Gay’. Like I was the first one here, like I ‘made’ Hackney, as if I somehow managed to peel myself away from Balans for the night and found myself in the lush untouched utopia of East London. “Hey Hackney Gay” people shout at me on Mare Street as a street vendor throws me an apple and the hipsters check my outfit for inspiration. No. None of this is true but it helps give my rants/observations/stories of my sexual desires some coherence. What a fucking tosser.
A blog (a truncation of the expression weblog) is a discussion or informational website published on the World Wide Web consisting of discrete, often informal diary-style text entries (“posts”). Posts are typically displayed in reverse chronological order, so that the most recent post appears first, at the top of the web page.
However the reality of Blogs is that they serve a greater purpose- they are the whinging, whining, in your face diary entries of the fat kid that ‘never fit in’ finding happiness, or that fashion student that really thinks they ‘have an important message’ about which jeans will be ‘in’ next season, or that gay guy who wants to work in TV but can’t get his foot in the door so writes this hysterical (can be read in a sarcastic tone) blog in the hopes that some producer will hire him and he can quit working in theatre and be a presenter……. become famous……. maybe meet a nice guy…… 6ft or above….. preferably native English speaker (his humour is quick and dry so would be lost on a José, Pierre or Alejandro)…….. they could live in Islington or Barnsbury and possibly have a dog…….. only if the choice were between pet or babies….. and they….. sorry what was the question? Tosser.
I’ve read a quite a few other blogs and what strikes me as funny is the writer’s sense that people even care. Ending the blog with questions like-
- Does your three year old sniff YOUR vagina a lot?
- Should I be worried I can’t masterbate without animal noises in the background?
- Have any of YOU cheated on your husband with YOUR son’s friends?
- Does anyone else feel ‘Pro-Hitler’?
So many tossers.
But if you’ve taken the time out to read my blog, chances are you don’t think I’m a tosser, but please understand that I am. And I’m fully aware of what a massive tosser I am (I even own a fold up bike). I actually kind of relish in it. Unlike the girl at Palm Vaults (a hipster cafe on Mare Street) who told me they didn’t have dairy milk to go in my coffee, when I asked her if the cafe was vegan she said no. Fucking no. So why no fucking dairy milk. Tosser. Or the girl from our PR team (I’m in a musical) who came to the theatre to tell us that for Red Nose Day this year, they were……. wait for it …… going to wear red in the office. Fucking tosser.
So yes I might be a tosser. You might be a tosser. But the key is OWNING your Tosserness™. If you wanna buy a fold up bike and piss everyone off at Bethnal Green tube at rush hour…… do it! Tosser. If you wanna tell the waitress you need to see the vegan menu in a steak house…… do it! Tosser. If you wanna only drink locally brewed beer because it’s ‘better for the economy’……. do it. Tosser. If you ask people their star sign and then knowingly, smugly nod when they tell you they’re a Capricorn…… do it! You’re a tosser. And if you decide to quit your job and join a hippy comune after watching Cowspiracy on Netflix…… then have a fucking word with yourself. Too far. Tosser.
So to summarise (that’s writer talk)- Thank you for subscribing to my blog/diary/mindless ranting. Yes I know I’m a tosser, (My Himalayan whistle Sheikh and therapist tell me regularly) but maybe we all have a bit of Tosserness™ in us.
Question……. tell me whatcha think about this! (Destiny’s Child reference) Tosser.
In a while crocodiles