Tuesday, 4 December 2012

Get Inside Me.

Style. Charisma. Aids. Some people have just got it. You know when you see someone and they just radiate that indefinable something that just draws you straight to them? Something indefinable that actually defines them. Inwardly and outwardly beautiful people who can fill a room with their magnetic personality. People who can walk through the door and grab the attention of all simply because they possess that mysterious wow factor. I'm thinking of creating a TV show called The Wow Factor. The whole nation will tune in every week to be amazed  by people who are so much better than them. It's kind of like the complete opposite of The X-Factor where the whole nation tunes in every week to see the country's worst bag of bollocks make a noise like a dying whale before being told, via a phone-in voting system, that they're shit. Actually, if that's all The X-Factor was, I'd probably watch it. If they got rid of the horrible singing and the crap songs but just had a long, long line of people who step into an upside-down bin and get told they're shit before walking away crying, it might just be my favourite show.

I was forced to watch The X-Factor by a "friend". It's such a depressing programme. It's like trying to read a book while your child is in a pool doing the most tediously basic swimming and shouting "ARE YOU WATCHING? ARE YOU WATCHING? ARE YOU WATCHING?" Soon you just stare without taking anything in. Watching, but not actually seeing, that they're drowning. The worst part was seeing some hoop-jumping half-man from Liverpool begging people to like him. He put his hands together as if in prayer, looked into the camera and in a broad, desperate sounding Liverpudlian accent said "Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaase vote for me. I'll be good next week. I promise. I'll do whatever you want. Anything. ANYTHING (makes blow-job face)" The week after condemning my eyes to X-Factor I was on my way to a gig in Heaven nightclub, just underneath Charing Cross Station. I checked who else was on but didn't recognise any of the names. That's not to say I don't know them, it's just that my memory is really bad. I thought, I'll probably recognise them when I get there. Sure enough, right outside the venue I saw one of the other comics. I recognise his face definitely. Don't know the guy's name but his face is familiar so we must have worked together somewhere. As he walked towards me I said "Hello, mate" but he walked straight past me and as he did he said "Aw, great, mate. Thanks so much" in a broad, desperate sounding Liverpudlian accent. I felt filthy. I recognised someone off fucking X-Factor and, to make things worse, he thinks I'm a fan. The next day I lay down in the shower and sobbed, occasionally hitting myself. Just like he does every day.

There's nothing good about the deluded on X-Factor but it must be amazing to be one of those people blessed with the wow factor. These are people who get compliments every day and just brush them off with "Well, that's just how I am". It must be amazing to just know how incredibly special you are. The thing is, I've always thought that I was special. I just didn't know if anyone else could ever see quite how special I am. Then I met him. That one guy who really gets me. That one person who took one look at me and saw what was within. And he's a doctor so he's got a good job and everything. 

Yesterday I visited the doctor because my thumb hurt. Pathetic, yes, but I thought it might be the beginning of something worse. I was thought that I had rheumatoid arthritis. I was sure of it in fact. It made sense. Everything else in life is shit so, yeah, why shouldn't I be getting old before my time as well. I'm so glad I went because I left that GP's surgery a different man. I went in as pathetic smudge yet walked out like Cary Grant. Tall, charming, confident and with dark hair. This doct...no...this soul-mate sat me down and told me that there's no way that I have rheumatoid arthritis. No, I have "wear and tear" arthritis. Also known as osteoarthritis. "Some people", he said "have bodies that just aren't supposed to move around that much". 

I knew it! All this time I've been given dirty looks and even dirtier words by people who just couldn't ever get me. But there's a reason that I am the way I am. There's a reason that I do what I do. There's a reason that I'm special. I AM BIOLOGICALLY LAZY. Science has proven it. Yes, I'm lying on the sofa doing fuck not nothing but that's because that's what I was born to do. It's 2 in the afternoon and I'm still in my pants because that is how I was created. Should I go the gym or do my taxes today? WHAT? AND DENY WHO I AM? No, thank you.

I feel so good that I now know who I am, finally. I am a lazy man. A special, unique lazy man. I hope you're happy for me, dear reader. We're not on this planet long so like Neil Armstrong, Albert Einstein and me, I really hope you find that special thing that you were put on this Earth for. Really there's only two things you can do in this life: get busy dying or put your feet up, have a nap and get busy living.


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1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Osteoarthritis - bollocks. I bet its psoriatic arthritis.