The Guy Who Had All The Time In The World (5/8) By Joe Hakim

(1/8), (2/8), (3/8), (4/8), (5/8), (6/8), (7/8), (8/8).

The next few weeks pass quickly in an orgy of ultra-consumerism gone mental. My flat starts to resemble a branch of Cash Converters. I'm surrounded by mobile phones, but there's no one to ring. I find that the trips to acquire new DVDs, CDs and games help to blot out the absolute horrifying reality of the situation that I'm in. I go out, steal stuff, collect food from the supermarkets and then I go home and mess about with gadgets, watch films and play video games. I have all the latest MP3 players, but I can't download anything.

And then there are the clothes. I'm wearing a fresh pair of trainers every day. I have a couple of shit hot suits, but there's no one to impress, so I usually wear jeans and shirts, but only the very fuckin' best. And I usually chuck stuff away once it's dirty.

I've got the latest palmtops and organisers for my non-existent schedule. Eventually, I get around to building up the biggest collection of drugs, booze and porn ever seen, and I'm currently indulging in what can only be described as a wank frenzy. Last week it was all about blonde American cheerleader sorts, but this week I'm totally into the Asian thing. My forearm is beginning to resemble a tree trunk and I'm bringing more tissue home from the supermarket than anything else, so I'm even beginning to think that this could be turning into a problem.

My typical day starts with a wank around ten. Then I get up and eat some cereal bar shit, or if I'm feeling adventurous I'll thaw out some bread, sausages and bacon from one of the freezers I've moved into the downstairs flat. After breakfast, if the mood takes me, I'll have another wank. I also have my first beer and spliff of the day around this time. If I'm feeling lazy, I'll play a video game or watch a film, and sometimes I even read books, but my preferred reading at the moment is jazz mags and back issues of Nuts and Loaded at the minute, which, of course, usually leads to yet another wank. And then I might have a Pot Noodle or Cup-a-Soup and a joint, and then I repeat the whole process.

No more new episodes of Lost or 24. No more new games for the PSP or X-Box 360. No more new music from the Arctic Monkeys or Bloc Party. Sometimes, if I'm feeling energetic, I'll go and do 'my rounds'. This involves charging the milkfloat at the local petrol station, and then setting off on another shopping spree. I usually have a bit of coke or brown when I do this, just for, y'know, a laugh. I get more food and films and games and CDs and porn to go along with all the other shit I've got stashed. It will take me years to eat, watch and play it all, but it just about keeps me sane, living my life in this gigantic stupour.

And it's while doing my 'rounds' one day that I make my next big discovery... The drugs and porn hasn't totally mashed my brain just yet, so I anticipated the problem of rotting food. After loading up the freezers in the downstairs flat with as much stuff as possible, I started to remove all the rest of the fresh stuff I couldn't use from the stores I've been robbing from, and piling it up in pits I've dug. I've been keeping track of the days on my Palm Pilot, and it's been four weeks since I woke up alone. By now stuff should be decomposing, but I can't smell anything.

Continued...Next Page (6/8)

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