Tag: comic

#oneaday, Day 1: Dawn of the First Day

I am aware of the factual inaccuracies in the title of this post. It is neither my first day writing #oneaday blogs, nor is it dawn. However, there are two reasons for naming it as I have: firstly, any excuse to get in a Zelda: Majora’s Mask reference, and secondly, since the other members of the 2011 One A Day Project have all started today at number 1, I thought I would join them so as not to look too much like the grizzled old veteran that I am. Rest assured, there will be celebrations when I reach the end of my first year, though. Assuming I remember. (19th of January. Remind me.)

As it’s a new year, a new beginning and a shiny new number “1” at the top of this post, I thought I would take the opportunity to introduce myself to those new readers that the One A Day Project has hopefully brought to my blog. Those of you I already know, bear with me for today and I’ll get back to slagging things off tomorrow.

I’m Pete. I’m 29, and unemployed. 2010 was the worst year of my life, taking in the end of my employment, the end of my marriage, the end of my finances and the end of my independent status as Someone Who Does Not Live With Their Parents. All of the above are related to one another, at least in passing.

But as 2010 was a year of endings, January 1st 2011 seems like a good time to think about new beginnings. And what better way to consider new beginnings than with some new year’s resolutions? Here goes, then.

  • I will blog every day from January 1st, 2011 until December 31st, 2011 (and possibly beyond) come rain, come shine, come sickness, come health, come on holiday, come in a sock (sorry), come not really having any time or being really drunk of an evening. I’ve kept up this daily blog since January 19th last year and I have no intention of stopping now.
  • I will go for a run three times a week, on Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday where possible. Those of you who have been following me for a while will know that towards the end of the year I successfully completed the Couch 2 5K programme, which turned me from a fat bastard into a fat bastard who can run for up to 30 minutes non-stop, albeit quite slowly.
  • I will embark on a wide array of erotic adventures with a bevy of voluptuous redheads, all of whom either are or at least vaguely resemble Christina Hendricks.*
  • I will fuck up the tax man good and proper. I will attempt to figure out why the taxman still thinks I am self-employed despite having gone from full-time employment to unemployment in the last few years. Then I will fuck him up good and proper.**
  • I will get a job.***
  • I will earn enough money to get somewhere to live that has a living room big enough for a Kinect and Dance Central.****
  • I will speak my mind and not bottle stuff up like a +5 Cauldron of Resentment.
  • I will complete Final Fantasy XII.
  • I will make a sizable dent in my gaming Pile of Shame.*****
  • I will not play World of Warcraft.
  • I will actually finish writing the story I’ve had stuck in my head for the last ten years and which has gone through more rewrites than an aborted metaphor involving something that gets rewritten a lot. (12,000 words so far. On the story, not the metaphor. That would be a metaphor of Dickensian proportions.)
  • I will have no shame in my diverse, occasionally cheesy, occasionally really really gay musical tastes.******
  • I will stop being so gay on Twitter.*******

I think that’s quite enough to be getting on with, and all of them are totally achievable. Setting yourself realistic targets is the key.

So, now that you know a little bit about me (and will undoubtedly learn more either by reading back over my past entries, which I promise I will do a “Best Of” one day when I can be bothered) you’re probably confused by that comic strip at the top of each post. Spoiler: I am also a little confused by the comic strip at the top of each post. I’m not quite sure how it happened, but I think it’s Allie Brosh’s fault. That minx. But suffice to say, yes, I have made the questionable decision to accompany every blog post with a silly little cartoon drawn in the Mac equivalent of MS Paint and laid out with frankly unnecessary care and attention using Comic Life Magiq.

You’ll notice a few recurring faces in these strips. Here are the most common ones:

Pete

Pete is a 29-year old unemployed bum geek writer aiming to make his way in the world. He lives in a featureless apartment of indeterminate size with several other peculiar characters and seems to attract surreal situations to himself like moths to a Dali-esque flame.

Alex

Alex believes herself to be “the sensible one”, despite having a boy’s name. However, Pete isn’t convinced that she is as sensible as she likes to make out due to two fact: firstly, she reads Grazia magazine, and secondly, she has slept with Phillipe on more than one occasion.

Phillipe

Phillipe gets terribly upset when people spell his name wrong, but it’s often difficult to tell due to his odd facial expression, acquired when he discovered that the stories your parents tell you about “sticking like it” are all true. He is also a massive pervert, and gets his penis out at every opportunity.

Lucy

Lucy hates blonde stereotypes but unfortunately conforms to every single one of them. She is not terribly bright and occasionally descends into saying text-speak out loud. She is, however, a cheerful soul and is rarely seen without a smile on her face. She likes coffee and kittens. Not together.

Des

The personification of Pete’s “black cloud of despair” which he felt on numerous occasions throughout the last year. Des eventually became his own independent entity and made friends with Alex over a cup of tea. Pete has defeated him once, but he occasionally pops in for a social visit.

The MoneyBot

The MoneyBot’s sole purpose is to monetize everything. Unfortunately, a glitch in his programming means that he only ever attempts to monetize people—a process which he carries out by shooting people in their genitals with a green Monetizing Ray. The process is reversible, and he may be a dream.

There. Consider yourself primed for the year ahead. Good luck to my fellow One A Day Project bloggers. And readers? Don’t forget to pay the official site a visit and donate either your time or money to Cancer Research UK or To Write Love On Her Arms to show your appreciation for everyone’s awesome creativity.

Thank you!

* A guy can dream, huh.
** Note to overzealous policemen: I will not actually fuck up “the taxman” because I am aware the Inland Revenue employs many people from diverse cultures who could probably take me in a fight if they all teamed up and formed a Constructocon.
*** Subject to the “job market”, or whatever people blame the lack of jobs on.
**** It’s wrong that I’m a little too enamoured with Dance Central, I know. But honey, I got rhythm that I haven’t used yet.
***** Subject to Anything Really Good coming out.
****** Already achieved. I am listening to Ke$ha while writing this post.
******* I make no promises as to being able to fulfil this one, particularly while @acronkyoung and @NintendoTheory are around. No homo.

#oneaday, Day 215: Who?

Front page of ever-reliable rag The Sun today bore a story about David and Victoria Beckham sacking fourteen members of their staff. That’s a whole third of their staff! Disasteriffic! How terrible! How awful! How nightmarish! It must be so tough for them!

Bollocks, of course, and certainly not front-page newsworthy. The thing that comes to mind any time I hear any kind of celebrity gossip is one of those awkward conversations you have with your parents where they tell you all about someone whose name you’ve never heard before but you’re apparently supposed to know everything about, including their medical history, any past indiscretions, marital status and whether or not they or anyone close to them has died recently.

It’s easy to do, of course. We all do it. We all talk about our friends to other people as if they know them. Because we know them, we refer to them with a comfortable familiarity. It sometimes doesn’t cross our mind that certain people in one group of friends might not know who “Jeff” or “Calin” from another group of friends are.

But with celebrity, it’s a different matter. People who are into that sort of thing talk about celebrities as if they are their friends. They excitedly talk about their idols on a first-name basis, assuming you know who on earth they’re blathering on about. Worse, sometimes they use nicknames dreamed up by tabloids that make it even more difficult to work out who it is they’re on about. If they’re involved in football, it’ll probably be the first syllable of their surname followed by either “-o” or “-s”. Sometimes, it’s a reference to pop culture long forgotten, or never known about at all by some people. Does Victoria Beckham still get called “Posh”? I bet she does by someone out there.

I still find it difficult to understand the fascination with the minutiae of these people’s lives, though. Fair enough if you want to follow the career of someone who is interesting, or does something that you find particularly stimulating. But these people are not, in most cases, close personal friends. How is the fact that poor old Posh ‘n’ Becks are having to sack a whole third of their staff to “save money” newsworthy? What are we supposed to get out of that story? Envy? Because that’s a Deadly Sin, I believe. Are we supposed to feel compassion or empathy for them? Because the vast majority of us don’t have one person to sack, let alone fourteen. Let alone fourteen people being only a third of our “staff”.

David Beckham doing something exciting and footbally. That might be newsworthy. On the sports pages, not the front page. Victoria Beckham doing something exciting and pop-starry. That, too, might be newsworthy. On the entertainment pages, not the front page.

Also in the news today: A man saved his daughter from a bear pit. That’s pretty heroic. Why isn’t that on the front page of The Sun? Because people are more interested in the life and times of poor little rich kids.