Tattoos and Ice Cream: Mr Nobody’s Guide to Nothing
Hi.
Fuck I hate hi. Hi is for teenagers. Hi is something we should grow out of, along with sushi and ice cream.
And while I’m at it…
Fuck I hate fuck. Who said it’s suddenly okay swear in public? Not my mum. Fuck is something we should never grow into, along with tattoos and muscles.
God doesn’t exist, but I bet he’s angry anyway. I know, because I don’t exist and I’m angry.
Fudging angry.
I’m angry because I’m Mr Nobody and because I’m being forced to write this newsletter about nothing.
Okay, so there’s no-one here with tattoos pointing a gun at my head and asking for ice cream and telling me, Mr Nobody, to hurry the fudge up and write a newsletter, and to make sure it’s called ‘Mr Nobody’s Guide to Nothing’.
No, there ain’t. (If you don’t count God.) But there might as well be.
Because I just made a big mistake. I read something – a newsletter, in fact. And? And that’s the big mistake, you fudger – reading, just reading.
I read that to be someone these days – to be Mr Nobody even – you have to promote the fudge out of yourself online, even if it means you don’t have time to do anything else – anything meaningful, I mean.
Well, I’ve ticked that box – the not doing anything meaningful box – so what’s stopping me promoting the fudge out of myself online? Nothing, if by nothing you mean the no-one who’s not here pointing ice cream at my tattoos and asking for fudge.
Fudge?
Fuck off.
[Photo by Massimo Adami on Unsplash]
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