So, at the moment I have no money in the world whatsoever. I'm one of those people who, after having the bills taken straight out of my bank account the day I get paid, gets a huge bloody shock when they check their balance to find that they have slogged away for 40 hours a week, only to be rewarded with enough money to buy a packet of Jaffa Cakes and a smile form the 50 year old woman from the Co Op.

So, like many other paupers I know, I have to live on my credit card for the rest of the month, which means popping into Tesco in the morning to getting my chocolate croissant and Innocent smoothie (my daily intake of fruit for only £1.73....bargain? well...) and my buy one get one free pack of salt and vinegar Snack A Jacks, take it to the check out and charge my lovely egg card for the sum total of £3.49.

Its a routine I love, rely on and ok, get a rush out of (Come on, its only eight in the morning, gimme a break! its better than stealing cars...such a shopaholic no?!)

Sometimes, such as today, I went in on the way home to pick up my dinner and a paper, and I reached for my little flexible friend, swiped it through the swipey thing, all the while thinking "hmmm, pizza" while thinking how anusing the old lady who just fell over a dog was, when the cashier said something unintelligable to me, so I did what I always do when I haven't got a clue what someones saying, I smiled. Easy, polite if a little stupid looking, and I realised that she was staring back at me with that "you're an idiot" look on her face.

"Uh oh. Somethings wrong. Has she noticed the chicken liver stashed in my inside pocket?" Shit. Don't panic Stu stay calm, just ask concisely and clearly what the problem is.

"wossaprolem" Nicely done Stu, you are indeed a king.
"Do you have another method of payment Sir?" Ooh crap
"Uh?"
"Your card sir, its been declined, do you have another method of payment.
Bugger bugger bugger bugger, what the hell. Hmmm, interesting question. Two answers. Do I say "not on me no, I don't carry cash you see" swish, makes you look like an exec. Or... "Um, well, you see, I'm poor because I am a scuzzer, and to be honest I've sold my soul to Visa, and please don't do this to me, I'm too young to die, and I've not eaten for twenty five minutes now, and if I don't eat in the next ten minutes, I may actually burn a calorie and maybe die."

"Uh?" D'oh, imbecile
"Security to check out 4"

Oh the embarrasement. Not even having enough money for a paper and a pizza, and suffering the humiliation of having to say "Sorry, I'm going to have to leave these here, and find a rock to crawl under and hide until I die"

On top of this, I have to spend fifteen minutes on the phone to the nice people at Egg (a snip at 45p a minute on my mobile) to learn that someone has been using my card to place £500 bets to a company in Switzerland. Fucking hilarious! £1800 poorer, and the shyster who has stolen my identity can't even pick a bloody winner. Cock, absolute cock!
I wouldn't have minded too much if I'd won a few grand in the process, thus wiping out my card debt and giving me a free holiday, but it turns out this guy is even more stupid than I!

I know that I can't eat for the next week, I can't even get a can of Pepsi Max, but I think my fat reserves can feed a small country, so despites my protestations and stomach cramps, dizziness, headaches and nausea, I think I found a diet that may just work!
- posted by pearly @ 9:00 PM

 
I have a few minutes spare before I need to go out into the night to get Claire from work... At 2am.... the things you do for that love thing....

As its such a ridiculous time, I am not thinking straight and I am seeing dancing Mars Bars, though I'm sure that has more to do with the truck full of acid I did with my lunchtime Kit Kat...

I'm going to spend the next week learning a new rhythm. I know, hold on there Stu, slow down, but I've been in the band for just over two years now, and I've just been lazy and plastered my usual beat over it. Not that that's bad, coz that means I only have to learn when to come in and where the ending is, which is no mean feat when you're falling asleep because of the monotony of playing the same beat for five of the six songs we play!!!!

All I'm saying is, its time to get creative. This is usually when drummers go all jazz or disco, and I've not quite decided which to go for. Maybe I'll combine the two and create a grounbreaking new genre called "Jisco" which sounds hilarious and wanky (quite literally) al lat the same time, though is preferable to sounding like a washing powder, "Dazz." hmmmmm, not at all gay then!

Now I've frightened the lads, I'm off to chuckle to myself in the knowledge that they'll be wondering if I'm serious or just having a laugh......

Fuck it, I'm having a (very tired) lugh... don't worry, Pearly rock like mother fuckers, and I am a God to be worshipped like that dead bloke who wore sandles and got nailed to a tree or something.... what a loser!

Time to go.....

- posted by pearly @ 5:41 PM