Don’t believe the hype, life’s shite.

Christmas… Shit. New Year’s… Shit. Birthdays… Shit. Losing your virginity… Shit. Wedding day… Shit. Birth of first born… Shit. Elections…Shit…Life…Shit…

Life along with everything that accompanies it is shit… Why?

Because of your stupid arse, unfounded, hyped up, expectations.

readpublichouse-sleepoversAnything that screams forced fun is never going to be fun, Christmas and New years are the pinnacles of this. People who don’t usually party feel the need to not only join in but become the ultimate party animals and there’s nothing worse than drinking with amateurs. Some become the hardest man in the world and take offense to anything and everything. Others become the sloppy drunks, spilling drinks and grabbing bitches by the pussies. Even worse if they start getting on it, do their first line since last year and they talk your ear off with the same bullshit story, maybe it’s the one hot girl they ever fucked and you hear every boring detail. Or they once had a fight and you hear the more exaggerated version year after year.


‘Planned fun is no fun’

The media fuel these expectations, as do the advertisers, I mean when does a Big Mac look like the picture? Never, it always looks like a rabbit hugged to death by the clowns who served it.


Have you ever seen a more apt metaphor for life?

It’s too easy to blame the media and advertisers, when, in reality, it’s you.

You’re told you must have fun, must enjoy this burger and you become so convinced you lie to yourself and everyone around you. Yeah look at me, I’m having so much fun, let’s stage a photo for my Insta, Facebook, everything, just to show everyone how much fun I’m having. Look at me, look at me, I’m having fun like they said I must…

You live in a world where it’s more important to look like you’re having fun than to actually have fun.  readpublichouse-beards

How many times have you met a girl, she looks dirty, pure filth, her eyes scream anal, tits hanging out, butt cheeks below the Daisy Dukes. She’s all over you, guides your hands down the Dukes, it’s on… Then you get her home, lay her down and she stiffens like a solid bit of oak. All front for the crowds, then the confidence fades with all chances of a good fuck. Or, the girl you hook up with looks fit as fuck, you put in the work, get her home, only for her Spanx to ping across the room, her gut flops out and her boobs hit the deck and you’re not sure if you fucking her pussy or c-section scar. You awake in the morning, her mask stuck to the pillow and all that is left is loved up eyes and a scabby face that convinces you, you have the AIDS. Now you spend the next two weeks making a will, contacting ex-lovers and checking your dick every few seconds.

In conclusion, life is shit and to convince yourself otherwise is to make it shitter. Keep your expectations low, look between the lines and never be disappointed. To me, never being disappointed is as close as you can get to happiness in this shit world we have created.

Lower expectations, plan less and party more, motherfuckers.