Monday, 5 July 2010


Woke up in a state of complete confusion. Check. Scratched head. Check. Then scratched balls. Check. Tried to force morning stiffy down. Check. Dislocated thumb and bruised wrist in the process. Check. Stagger to bathroom like drunken fool. Check. Looked in mirror and flipped self off. Check. Apologised to self, explaining it isn't your fault this happened. Check. Self asks what happened, why so upset. Check. I reply "goddammit, its monday". Check.
This is a weekly activity for me gentlefolk. I can't help it. Every monday, I wake up in a state of total confusion. I go through the above motions, before I realise the inevitable has happened. GIM. if monday were a human being, it'd be an exact opposite of me. Monday would be female and she'd be a raging bitch. She'd be a sadist who hated all that is awesome and murdered kittens for a hobby. Monday would also be frigid. You couldn't get monday wet if you dumped her in a swimming pool. Monday would hate sex, hate booze, have no friends and be fucking ugly to boot.
I have tried everything. I tried not sleeping, it failed. I tried sleeping throughout, that failed too. Someone tell me, how do I stop monday from showing her ugly ass? This entity that stands against all that Womilee stands for. Someone just tell me, who do I have to bribe, what do I have to fuck, which ugly broad do I have to go down on? Ill do anything to rewind time and go back. That H.G. Wells book, The Time Machine, I wonder if it came with real instructions. Someone should build one dammit. I need to get some more sleep.
How did you all do this weekend? Did everyone rest properly? I fear I didn't good people, that fatigue from last friday seems to have enveloped me yet again today. Everything is cloudy and hazey. But not in a nice, preferred, marijuana induced way. This is a painful, sadistic haziness I feel.
I'm late today people. And I don't mean in the delivery of this mornings edition, I mean I'm in front of my office right now, walking and typing this. And I think I forgot to brush my teeth. This is GIM in its full capacity. Pardon me gentlefolk, but I must end now. Slavery calls.
Before I go, I would like to sound a small not of warning. That sounds a bit harsh, let us say I would like to encourage some people to exercise a bit of discetion. I have often admitted to not knowing what the fuck I'm doing, with concern to this blog. I am simply having fun. But yet again, my advisors inform me of people criticising. People who don't or can't read or write. To these people, please, don't me make wouldn't like me when I'm angry.
Ill see you all later.
I am Womilee. GIM


  1. Dear Womilee,
    I think I'm having withdrawal symptoms because I haven't read anything new on here in ages. Please fix this. Thank you, concerned reader.

  2. dude, ure slackin' on ur pimpin'. not cool mein, not cool