Tuesday, 27 February 2007

Saturday, 24 February 2007

Sunday, 18 February 2007

A Good Day

After a long time of nothing happening, I finally have some stuff to write about. Went to see Man Utd vs Reading at Old Trafford today. The result (1-1) was not very pleasing but it was still a good day out. Travelling there, was flawless. Hopped on the train, then the metro link, queued for tickets and got a burger all with very little or no wait which was fantastic. The return journey was not as pleasant though. We had to wait until the third tram before we could get on and then it took us to a different station than it said it would. So we got on another one that would take us to Piccadilly. However, at Piccadilly Gardens it suddenly stopped. No signs of movement for about 20 minutes. After this long, people started getting pissed off so someone used the emergency door release and we all escaped, much to the bemusement of the driver who started shouting that he had phoned the police.

We walked to Piccadilly station from there. As we were getting to the platform, a black guy jumped in front of me out of nowhere and shouted "Ticket!". I'm quite ashamed about this but my first reaction was a scream because I thought I was being mugged. After quickly calming myself realising my mistake, I fumbled in my pockets for the ticket but he just told me to go. Clearly he gets his giggles terrorising white boys. On the train back, the black guy across from me had his ring tone as the theme tune from 'The Fresh Prince of Bel Air' which was just fantastic.

I also had to negotiate the other night. At 3AM in the bastarding morning on Thursday, I was woken up by the front door buzzer for our flat. I got up and looked out the kitchen window but couldn't see anybody so, disgruntled, I went back to bed. Just as I lie down someone starts knocking on the actual door to our flat. I ignore it thinking it's just someone pissing about. After 10 seconds of more knocking, I stagger to the door, open it and am confronted with two very drunk girls. I managed to say something like "Whatthefuckdoyouwant?". Turns out they wanted to stay the night because they couldn't be bothered to get a taxi. I tell them a straight 'no' and go to to shut the door. They stop me and say that I have to let them because they "lived here last year". I understandably point out that this is not a good reasoning. If I'd been more awake I'd have probably used an analogy but instead stared at them confused for 5 seconds (without blinking) and reply with another simple 'no'. The talking bint who was asking all the questions then asked whether it was a boy or a girl who lived in each room, laughing wildly at whatever answer I gave. Easiest comedy gig ever. I told them I'd only answer if they promised to go away after, which they agreed. I was pretty pissed off.

To sum this up, I wish to point out the growing number of Cheemos (Chinese-Emos) I've been seeing recently. They haven't done anything yet, but you can bet your last wok I'll tell you if they do.

Thursday, 15 February 2007

And So The Drought Continues...

It is unbelievable how little has happened. There will probably be a flurry of events soon, but until then you will have to put up with me posting more nonsensical crap than usual.

Booked tickets to see the Man Utd Vs Reading FA cup game on Saturday which I'm really looking forward to. Tonight is also Dominos Thursday - an event of such greatness that everyone should have a day devoted to Dominos pizza. Bought 'The Times' the other day for the supplement on learning Chinese - I quickly got very bored but I learnt how to say 'hello', 'yes' and 'thank you' which basically means I could buy a hooker for the evening if I ever find myself in Beijing. Fantastic.

I should have the latest episode of Scrubs up tomorrow as well.

I shall leave you with a list of manly things. Found them a long time ago but read them again yesterday and they are truly fantastic.

1, OPENING JARS - nnng, she's struggling. You take it from her hands, open
it effortlessly and pretend she loosened it for you. She didn't. Jars are
men's work.



2, CALLING SOMEONE 'SON' - Especially policeman but even saying it to kids
makes you the man.



3, DOING A PROPER SLIDE TACKLE - Beckham free kicks? Gay. A Stuart Pearce
tackle is the pinnacle of the game, simultaneously winning the ball and
crippling the man. Magic.



4, SHARPENING A PENCIL WITH A STANLEY KNIFE - Blunt, is it? Hand it here
love. No, I don't need a sharpener, you think I can't whittle.



5, GOING TO THE TIP - A manly act which combines driving, lifting and - as
you thrillingly drop your rubbish into another huge pile of other rubbish -
noisy destruction.



6, DRINKING UP - Specifically, rising from the table, slinging your coat on
and downing two thirds of a pint in one fluid movement. Then nodding
towards the door, saying, "Let's go" and striding out while everyone else struggles
to catch up with you. God, you're hard.



7, HAVING A THIN BIT OF WOOD - in the shed, solely to stir paint with.



8, HAVING A SCAR - Ideally it'll be a facial knife wound, but even an iron
burn on the wrist is good. "Ooh, did it hurt". "Nah".



9, HAVING A HANGOVER AND THICK STUBBLE - When birds have been partying they
just whinge. You, on the other hand have physical evidence of your
hardness, sprouting from your face. "Big night?" Grr, what does it look like.



10, NODDING AT COPPERS - A moments eye contact is all it takes for you to
share the unspoken bond. "We've not seen eye to eye in the past", it says,
"but someone's got to keep the little scrotes in line".



11, USING POWER TOOLS - slightly more powerful than you need or can safely
handle. Pneumatic drilling while smoking a fag? Superb.



12, KICKING A FOOTY AGAINST A GARAGE DOOR - Clang-g-g-g-g-g-! Stitch that
becks, I kick so hard I set off car alarms.



13, ARRIVING IN A PUB LATE... and everyone cheers you. It doesn't mean
you're popular, it just means your mates are pissed. However, the rest of
the pub doesn't know that.



14, NOT WATCHING YOUR WEIGHT - fat is a feminist issue, apparently.
Brilliant. Pass the pork scratchings.



15, CARVING THE ROAST - and saying "are you a leg or breast man" to the
blokes and "do you want stuffing" to the women. Congratulations, you are
now your dad.



16, WINKING - turns women to putty. Doesn't it?



17, TEST SWINGING HAMMERS - ideally, B&Q would have little changing rooms
with mirrors so you could see how rugged you look with any DIY item. Until
then, we'll make do with the aisles.



18, TAKING OUT £200 FROM A CASHPOINT - okay, so its for paying the plumber
later but with that much cash you feel like a mafia don. The only thing
better is peeling notes off the roll later.



19, PHONE CALLS THAT LAST LESS THAN A MINUTE - unlike birds, we get
straight to the point. "Alright? Yep. Drink? Red lion? George, it is then. Seven.
See ya."



20, PARALLEL PARKING - bosh, straight in. first time. Can Schumacher do
that? No, because his cars got no reverse gear which, technically, makes
you the worlds best driver.



21, HAVING EARNED THAT PINT - Since the dawn of time, men have toiled in
the fields in blistering heat. Why? So, when it's over we can stand there in
silence, surveying our work with one hand resting on the beer gut while the
other nurses a foaming jug of ale. Aaaah.



22, HAVING SOMETHING PROPERLY WRONG WITH YOU - especially if you didn't
make a fuss. "Why was I off, nothing much, just a brain haemorrhage".



23, KNOWING WHICH SCREWDRIVER IS WHICH - "a Phillips? For that? Are you
mad, bint?"



24, TAKING A NEWSPAPER INTO THE LOO - a visual code that says that's right,
I'm going in there for a huge, long man-sized shit.



25, CALLING YOUR MATE A TWAT - and punching him on the shoulder. Just a
man's way of saying "you're a good mate; I missed you while you were in
hospital".

Wednesday, 7 February 2007

Oh This Makes Me Laugh

Forgive the lack of updates recently, basically nothing has happened. However, that wont stop me posting my Chinese delights.

Spotted this a while ago but got reminded of it today. Taken from the uni halls newsletter.

Betty

I wouldn't have guessed she was a Betty...

Friday, 2 February 2007