This week I have undergone a massive shift of priorities, not through a conscious choice, perhaps a few influences may share some blame, but more I have undergone a spontaneous change in direction. Not that I have changed, I am still the same Tom, just with slightly different priorities. Like watching The West Wing instead of House MD.
It has also been a fairly busy week - I've done volunteering. I've actually done some volunteering, I worked and wasn't paid. Firstly, how I am completely fine about that is a bit strange...And it wasn't exactly helping people through a crisis (though I think a court order prevents me from doing that), or looking after dying OAPs or say digging a well in a deprived area of Glasgow-south. No, I was delivering leaflets to various residential hubs in Cirencester on behalf of the Liberal Democrat campaign team. Monday, I attended a Lib Dem conference, met our candidate etc... And yesterday I had a coffee with the campaign manager for this area, discussed various issues, politics etc, etc... IT'S FUN. It actually makes me feel happy, I get a genuine kick out of political activism, even putting up a poster made me giggle a bit.
With vague happiness comes intense hatred though...Especially for the feckless, ignorant, stuck up Tory-twat supporters. The mindless idiots who are instantly sold on the whole FOX HUNTING BACK policy without actually knowing diddly-squat about anything else in their manifesto, or those who jump on the 'My parents vote Tory, thus I shall' fuckwagon. I don't know how many Conservative supporters have actually studied fiscal policy, I've done a fair amount of reading into it, and a Panorama documentary aired a month or so ago clearly indicated the massive holes in the Tory economic recovery plans. We'd be more safe under fucking Darling for God's sake. Now really is not the time for Eton Dick George Osborne to have five years work experience.
I may be able to meet Nick Clegg in the coming weeks, which is cool...Personally I think he's a bit weak, lesser of the three evils, but still he gets horribly flustered whenever anyone turns against him. That being said, even I cannot deny he did the best in the debate, really pissed me off how Cameron harked on about the need for the UK to increase its nuclear weapons arsenal! LIKE THAT'S A GOOD IDEA. We already have quite a few nukes, we also have NATO, and billions, countless billions could be saved from reducing the size of Trident.
The below makes me smile:
I like the BBC's election site, especially parts of it which read as: 'The Liberal Democrat leader is said by one Sunday newspaper to be "more popular than Churchill'. But really, some of it... 'See how latest polls could translate into seats in parliament with the interactive seat calculator.Or start swinging with the Jeremy Vine swingometer.' Start swinging with the Jeremy Vine swingometer - No thank you.
Had another bizzare dream the other night, same sort of thing as my interrupted sex dream, I'm not going to write about that. Was sitting in a car, behind the wheel, and then instantly started panicking, things like 'What? Why am I driving? I don't know how to drive! Wheel, hold onto this, and there's pedals...And things...And why am I driving?' Started circulating my mind, then I looked to my left and the most physically attractive woman my brain could possible ever hope to conceive formed, which then led to thoughts of 'Who is she? Why is she in my car? I can't drive! Why is she so beautiful?' Anyway, something told me not to ask her what she was doing/who she was/police interrogation style shit, just to let her talk...Which is what I did. And she did talk - talk about the most pointless of things, for what seemed a long time, stuff like why she didn't like Bristol, why oranges are better than apples (no they're not). Then it got cool. My phone rang, I answered it (as you do), and it was my voice...I don't remember exact phrases, just the general jist, went something like:
'Hi Tom,'
'Hi?'
'We don't know her, do we?'
'I've never seen her before, no...'
'I don't know her, you don't,'
'Who are you?'
'You,'
'Yeah...Ok...Do you know where I'm driving to?'
'Nope.'
Something else might have happened, but that's all I remember. My most favourable theory is that I was talking to my sub-conscious, which'd be insanely cool. However, basic research into dreams I did this morning suggests that's pretty much impossible. Ah well, at least it's my birthday tomorrow.
Tom,
P.S: Going to read some more Alastair Campbell Diaries - screens are hurting my eyes.
P.S.S: Words will probably hurt them more.
P.S.S.S: I SHALL DANCE.
P.S.S.S.S: VOLCANIC ASH!!!!!
P.S.S.S.S.S: Some Facebook pages are funny: 'i actually hate you im not even joking, i have pure hatrid towards you'.
