I’m an apple

A fairly nice apple, as apples go. I’m quite shiny, crunchy, worm free. In an apple contest I might even manage a Highly Commended.
But I’m not an orange. No matter how much fake tan I apply or how long I spend in Seville, I’m never going to be an orange.

So, my shortlisting for the TGO online retailer of the year for the second running has left me a bit, pah. Of course it’s nice to be nominated, but the glaring differences between what I do and what the other nominees in the category do just leaves me even more cynical and bemused by whole the Outdoors Media Game.

I won’t be attending the glitzy awards ceremony.

This, on the other hand, makes me very happy…

“It arrived this morning and I think you may have excelled yourself, Sean. The workmanship’s just fuckin’ sublime. Seriously, man. Don’t ever doubt that you’re good at this stuff.

I’m at a loss for superlatives. You even personalised it FFS!!! Good. Fuckin’. Job.

Oh btw, no way am I letting you pay nearly £13 in postage on my account. Ping me your Paypal or your domicile address and I’ll send you some form of recompense. I’m serious. Don’t even think about fuckin’ with me on this.

Sorry for the sweary post; my language can get a bit fruity when I’m happy.”

Folk often take the time to write and tell me they are pleased, but rarely am I treated to such a well crafted sweary outburst as this.

Anyway, time for an update. Wait times are still long. I’m still behind schedule. I’m not about to disappear. A few folk are snitty, most are not. It is what it is. I’m doing my best.

I’ve experienced a bit of a relapse this past month or so. It bores me to say it again, like a stuck fucking record.
Depression is an insidious twat. Most illnesses you get better or you die. This one lurks. Some people liken it to a black dog. I disagree. A dog has intent. A degree of intellect. Mine’s more like a slug. With a bit of toad and Mr Blobby thrown in. It has no cunning. It has no intellect. It’s malevelovent but devoid of any conscious purpose or motive.
It wanders off, doing whatever it does, and then without apparent reason it returns. I wake up one morning and it’s crushing my chest and it’s blank expression is sucking my self worth away.
I get up and it shifts to my shoulder, and there it sits until for some reason it simply falls off.

Hope that’s cheered you up. I’m available for childrens’ parties.