I holidayed in Denver, began a new year, moved to London, boated about in Oxford, was profoundly English in Iceland, got engaged beneath Northern Lights upon a different boat, moved to Kent, got promoted and remembered I write articles on the internet and that I should really probably at some point like actually (“totes”) get around to that one day soon with a little bit if “ish” on the end.
How’ve you been?
You inactive pussy you.
Only joking; I’m sure you achieved a great deal.
Congratulations on winter. If you didn’t make it through; you should have tried nudity.
Nudity is a barebones means of communicating to the elements that there’s no real point in trying; your penis can get no smaller and nipples no stiffer. Taking all the puff out of the wind as it were.
I did winter twice and only fell twice, entirely clothed both times just to show how tough I am. Perhaps I should have been naked; just to make a point; a means of ‘point-making’ I am only too happy to put across.
Denver is tremendous; I caber-tossed in the Rockies and defeated every Texan I met at Beer Pong.
Aside from that I have to say a UFC competitor is an extraordinary occupation to hold.
Stepping into a shape (let’s not quarrel over squared circles, rings and octagons) and professionally punching faces. A bad day at the office consists of not punching the other’s face enough; in which case either try harder or yoga. Now; before more fists happen to you.
Why not sponsor yourself? If you don’t then you have no self-belief in the product.
Upon your trunks should be an emblazoned “ME….motherfucker…”
What a point that emits and a good one at that: “ME….motherfucker…”?
“ME.…motherfucker…” speaks scrolls of worthy output that “Nike” can only dream of.
Oxford is superb; if you haven’t fought a woman in terms of boating and actuality then you haven’t done what I did that day. Maybe this is a recommendation; perhaps it’s just an admission that I fought my now-fiancé with an oar.
As for Oxford…….that’ll do. Plus breakfast was lovely; as were the locals.
I moved lived in South London for a while, commuting into Swale every day.
Commuting is a profitable hobby, for it was whilst I made my way most merrily (and…not really) at 5am from Belvedere (BBEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDDEEEEEEERREEEEEEEEEEE!) to work; I remembered reading was an option. I now intend to indulge fully in the art form.
The art form of reading, that is, as opposed to writing (as you can tell).
I’m not a hushed reader; I like to encourage the author along; offering a whoop of appreciation and excitement as the chapters come to peak. It is a robust and healthy method of reading, although the rest of the carriage did turn against me and I was forced to begin to smoulder with intensity in retaliation.
I recommend you do the same. Otherwise I’d be weird and alone on a train.
Plus becoming somewhat over-excited about my own enunciation of “Belvedere” (BBEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDDEEEEEEERREEEEEEEEEEE!).
Oh I’ve sighed in my life; but I’m a superior screamer.
So…Iceland was engaging.
Because I got engaged (fuck puns today).
I asked my girl, the focus of my dreams and the bewilderment of my reality, to be mine for the rest of our lives and she said “Yes.”
Beneath the Northern Lights which danced for us as though tumbling from the heavens and upon us, purely so as to exacerbate the point that life is distinctly going my way and I have no excuse for this.
Perhaps it’s because I just kept smiling.
I don’t deserve any of this; but I’m not giving up a second of this for a lifetime as any tiger-like living there could be; likely since I’ve found my tigress.
And she lays with me.
I intend to write in detail about all of Denver, Oxford, Iceland, engagement and other vital subject matters such as have been scarcely penetrated here (poor buggers); but this will do for now.
Forgive my absence; I’ve been deservedly busy and inexcusably cheerful.
Plus I’m the Greatest Human to Ever Live.
And so are you.