Good morning.
I'm TofuSheep. A 19 year old vegan "punk" rocker from Glasgow. I use the term "punk" very loosely. I recently cut off my Mohawk and as much as I adore the musical orgasm that is the 1970's screeching of British punk. I am enthralled with the culture. The YOB culture, backwards boys and backwards girls, the idealists approach to life. Taking it as it comes. The 'Fuck You' culture, sheer elated blasphemy.
If you're familiar with the alternative Glasgow scene you'll know that punk is a dwindling number of posers and weathered old buggers in their forties and fifties drinking foosty pints of Guinness in Rockers bar, discussing who has the biggest cock or back-catalogue of The Clash and how they furiously masturbate to Joe Strummer. The punk aesthetic has been adopted by a new generation, that the Y2K's have learnt to disdain.Neds, Chavs, Scum. Beautiful Fuck-ups in the world of everyday cultural studies. They are the new age punks. With their Gio-Goi, Mera Peaks and manky trackies, lurking in dark places in large groups, drinking, smoking, taking drugs and having indiscriminate, pale elbowy sex with one another. Connecting to their DIY music. Clubland Extreme Hardcore instead of The Slits of course.
You probably think I'm crazy - you're probably right. In the early 2000's I was suckered into Goth, Cradle of Filth, white foundation and black lipstick, shaving off my eyebrows and wearing far too much PVC. So as to be expected I got the utter cunt ripped out me at school. I hated Neds, I loathed them. I hated their music, I hated their mannerisms and most of all I hated their culture. This all changed when I went to college whereas instead of quietly having a tolk in my garden listening to Siouxsie and The Banshees. I'd be completely ripped out my tits, sitting in a banged up Rover 25 with 5 other guys racing a car full of other gents - equally as munted - zipping down the M8 from Glasgow back to Paisley screaming the Fratellis until we couldn't breathe. We were untouchable, I found myself immersed in the 'live-fast, die-young" college way of life. Getting wasted at 9 o'clock in the morning because there's nothing else to do and your lecturer's five minutes late. Taking all manner of narcotics because who cares if you wake up tomorrow as long as today kicked ass. The cul-de-sac glamour, the filth - the undeniable sense of well being.
I had discovered YOB culture. Drinking, fighting, fucking and generally wasting. I went to my first rave at 17 years old with a few friends and several ecstasy tablets, I remember the bass thumping through my entire body my heart pounding in sync, my hands fingering the lasers in the smokey room, being shoulder-to-shoulder with 400 other sweaty people shouting at the top of their lungs "Here we! Here we! Here we fucking go!" And I was hooked, I fell in love with dance music and the YOB culture. I work in Sea Nightclub to get my fix these days and most people still don't believe me when I tell them my music tastes.
My love life, or what some may describe as a love life is a shambles. I spent 3 years engaged to someone with no ambition, pie in the sky dreams with no inclination of ever executing them, not to mention a stinking fucking attitude. But I was never miserable, as a few of my close friends know - I never stay unhappy for long. I spent a year of my engagement exploring my sexuality. College and my demanding job providing feasible excuses for me to go out and play. Things changed in late 2008, I'd started Uni and completely ignored the fact I was in a relationship sitting in the student union drinking everyday making new friends and enjoying sexual conquests. I was invited out one evening to Fury Murry's by some Filmmaking students, my tenacious "clubbing" habits would be a talking point for months to come, it was Sunday the 8th of March '09, I bought far more alcohol than any student should, drank it all, smoked some joints and took some pills in that evening it was £1 a drink in Furies, and I'd already sucked down wine, gin and half a crate of cider before we even hit the club.
When we got to the club I was staggering and remember fragments of it, I bought far too many shots. And it's where my now, partner in grime and I had our first moment of passion. Hah! I'd flirted the whole evening with everyone this young gentleman happened to actually respond to my drunken bullshit and I kissed him gaining a standing ovation from his mates, I was too wasted to really know what was going on, after dancing, more drugs and more shots and beer him and I returned to a corner where I threw up on his shoes. How romantic. Him and I are an item now. And I also threatened him with extreme violence that evening. It's the first of my nihilistic ways really shining through, I don't believe in love. Romantic love that is. You see;
I love my cats
I love my friends
I love cigarettes
I love animals
I love Sailor Jerrys
And I love my partner.
All in the same way, in varying degrees of course but Soul mates? Forever and ever? And loving someone so much 'it hurts' doesn't make sense to me, it doesn't exist. Not to me. How petty bourgeois lol.
I'm a Nihilist because essentially I believe in nothing. Religion is bullshit, politics are a waste of time. Romantic love, etc. There is only a couple of things I believe in and that's my right as a human being to destroy myself by getting wasted and treating animals as equals. I was a veggie for a long time, I didn't know enough about veganism to plunge headfirst into it. After meeting my partner I changed my mind and became a Vegan - best decision I ever made. Only problem is I have the sweetest tooth known to man, in the past I'd eat chocolate to put a stop to this, now I'll eat soy ice-cream or make a smoothie, bit weird but worth it.
So now you know a bit about me, Tofusheep. I'll be sure to write something a tate more interesting next time. ;P
xxx
I'm TofuSheep. A 19 year old vegan "punk" rocker from Glasgow. I use the term "punk" very loosely. I recently cut off my Mohawk and as much as I adore the musical orgasm that is the 1970's screeching of British punk. I am enthralled with the culture. The YOB culture, backwards boys and backwards girls, the idealists approach to life. Taking it as it comes. The 'Fuck You' culture, sheer elated blasphemy.
If you're familiar with the alternative Glasgow scene you'll know that punk is a dwindling number of posers and weathered old buggers in their forties and fifties drinking foosty pints of Guinness in Rockers bar, discussing who has the biggest cock or back-catalogue of The Clash and how they furiously masturbate to Joe Strummer. The punk aesthetic has been adopted by a new generation, that the Y2K's have learnt to disdain.Neds, Chavs, Scum. Beautiful Fuck-ups in the world of everyday cultural studies. They are the new age punks. With their Gio-Goi, Mera Peaks and manky trackies, lurking in dark places in large groups, drinking, smoking, taking drugs and having indiscriminate, pale elbowy sex with one another. Connecting to their DIY music. Clubland Extreme Hardcore instead of The Slits of course.
You probably think I'm crazy - you're probably right. In the early 2000's I was suckered into Goth, Cradle of Filth, white foundation and black lipstick, shaving off my eyebrows and wearing far too much PVC. So as to be expected I got the utter cunt ripped out me at school. I hated Neds, I loathed them. I hated their music, I hated their mannerisms and most of all I hated their culture. This all changed when I went to college whereas instead of quietly having a tolk in my garden listening to Siouxsie and The Banshees. I'd be completely ripped out my tits, sitting in a banged up Rover 25 with 5 other guys racing a car full of other gents - equally as munted - zipping down the M8 from Glasgow back to Paisley screaming the Fratellis until we couldn't breathe. We were untouchable, I found myself immersed in the 'live-fast, die-young" college way of life. Getting wasted at 9 o'clock in the morning because there's nothing else to do and your lecturer's five minutes late. Taking all manner of narcotics because who cares if you wake up tomorrow as long as today kicked ass. The cul-de-sac glamour, the filth - the undeniable sense of well being.
I had discovered YOB culture. Drinking, fighting, fucking and generally wasting. I went to my first rave at 17 years old with a few friends and several ecstasy tablets, I remember the bass thumping through my entire body my heart pounding in sync, my hands fingering the lasers in the smokey room, being shoulder-to-shoulder with 400 other sweaty people shouting at the top of their lungs "Here we! Here we! Here we fucking go!" And I was hooked, I fell in love with dance music and the YOB culture. I work in Sea Nightclub to get my fix these days and most people still don't believe me when I tell them my music tastes.
My love life, or what some may describe as a love life is a shambles. I spent 3 years engaged to someone with no ambition, pie in the sky dreams with no inclination of ever executing them, not to mention a stinking fucking attitude. But I was never miserable, as a few of my close friends know - I never stay unhappy for long. I spent a year of my engagement exploring my sexuality. College and my demanding job providing feasible excuses for me to go out and play. Things changed in late 2008, I'd started Uni and completely ignored the fact I was in a relationship sitting in the student union drinking everyday making new friends and enjoying sexual conquests. I was invited out one evening to Fury Murry's by some Filmmaking students, my tenacious "clubbing" habits would be a talking point for months to come, it was Sunday the 8th of March '09, I bought far more alcohol than any student should, drank it all, smoked some joints and took some pills in that evening it was £1 a drink in Furies, and I'd already sucked down wine, gin and half a crate of cider before we even hit the club.
When we got to the club I was staggering and remember fragments of it, I bought far too many shots. And it's where my now, partner in grime and I had our first moment of passion. Hah! I'd flirted the whole evening with everyone this young gentleman happened to actually respond to my drunken bullshit and I kissed him gaining a standing ovation from his mates, I was too wasted to really know what was going on, after dancing, more drugs and more shots and beer him and I returned to a corner where I threw up on his shoes. How romantic. Him and I are an item now. And I also threatened him with extreme violence that evening. It's the first of my nihilistic ways really shining through, I don't believe in love. Romantic love that is. You see;
I love my cats
I love my friends
I love cigarettes
I love animals
I love Sailor Jerrys
And I love my partner.
All in the same way, in varying degrees of course but Soul mates? Forever and ever? And loving someone so much 'it hurts' doesn't make sense to me, it doesn't exist. Not to me. How petty bourgeois lol.
I'm a Nihilist because essentially I believe in nothing. Religion is bullshit, politics are a waste of time. Romantic love, etc. There is only a couple of things I believe in and that's my right as a human being to destroy myself by getting wasted and treating animals as equals. I was a veggie for a long time, I didn't know enough about veganism to plunge headfirst into it. After meeting my partner I changed my mind and became a Vegan - best decision I ever made. Only problem is I have the sweetest tooth known to man, in the past I'd eat chocolate to put a stop to this, now I'll eat soy ice-cream or make a smoothie, bit weird but worth it.
So now you know a bit about me, Tofusheep. I'll be sure to write something a tate more interesting next time. ;P
xxx
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