Winter is well and truly here, you know this because its dark when you leave for work and its dark when you get home and in between everyone has the shits with each other for no apparent reason other than ‘it must be the weather’!
If you play a winter sport then you might as well not bother because it’ll be rained off more times than it isn’t. This is great for the sporting organisations that take your fees on the basis that you’ll play ex number of games, but won’t be refunding when you don’t because of some bugger who likes to keep his football pitches like he keeps his women – bushy - and calls it off every other weekend.
If you haven’t had the flu by now don’t worry, you are only a week or two away from getting it and by then it will be twice as bad for having down the rounds and will probably make you sterile. Your kids, if at school, will be sick from now till September, so you can kiss goodbye to your hard earned and saved annual leave days because you will be spending them at home, watching Nickelodeon for 16 hours straight as you nurse your kids back to a state where they can head back to school and pick up the next strain of avian bird flu. Getting sick is an expensive business alright, especially when the local GP charges you fifty bucks a visit only to tell you to go and buy the $20 packet of over the counter pills that always seem to run out before your flu does.
To make matters worse, I got dumped on Facebook this week. The ultimate social burn. A friend of mine removed me from her list of friends, something I only noticed after trying to send the email to her that had taken me 20 minutes to write. Who would have thought that being dumped on a website that affords its user no social interaction whatsoever could hurt so much or be as embarrassing as being dumped in real life?
But then that’s Facebook for you. It’s easy to think that the virtual networking we do on Facebook is in some way as good as actually interacting face to face. Remember when people used to do that? When in reality it allows you to add and cut people out of your life without ever having to face the consequence. At least with a text message you get told you’re yesterday’s news. Facebook allows you to ‘remove’ or ‘ignore’ without a second thought. Easy. So very easy.
I’ve had my fair share of dumping experiences, although in all fairness it was me nine times out of ten doing the dumping. Not that I was ever so popular with the ladies back in the day that I had them queuing for the ClubDes experience, it was more a case of me not knowing a good thing the very rare times that I had it.
Like my dear friend Kels, who I dated back in college for a whole two weeks. Kels was a year younger and one of the ‘it’ girls of her year, even went on to be head girl the following year, so you’d think a dropkick like me would have been happy to have her. But no, I took the confidence that came from being liked by a hottie and used it to pluck up the courage to tell Natalie Davis – one of the ‘it’ girls in my year – that she put lead in my pencil and had done so for some time.
The revelation itself went to plan. It all came out like I had rehearsed and included several very gay lines from several very gay movies where the loser always scored the cheerleader, so hopes were high in the ClubDes camp after I was done that a Penthouse forum was about to be written there and then in the senior common room. Natalie thanked me with a hug - one of those ones that’s upper body only because I had a raging stiff at that point - and told me that I was ‘very cute’. And that was about it. Hardly the highly erotic finish I had played out in my head every night for the last two years.
Kels was very supportive of me the whole time even though I’d broken her heart but then she probably knew I was heading for a crash and burn. Girls always know because they know other chicks, the same way a guy knows when another guy is hard out spading, because we’ve done it ourselves. Thankfully Kels and I stayed close friends and even shared the odd drunken grope in the years that followed - although in all fairness the drunken groping was all me, Kels just lay there, sober and tried her best not to vomit at the thought of it. We still remain close, despite her being half way across the world, thanks to Facebook! So maybe it does have its uses after all.
So you see the moral of this story is that the grass over the fence is never as green as you think it is. Except in winter cause the ruddy footy is always cancelled so no bugger plays on it.
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