Killing Me

No more drink for a month! No more gambling ever! I now have no online accounts left with anyone. Let's see how that goes.

One thing I have realised with the scub coming up today; spending time away from her really makes it harder to lose weight. I must underestimate how many calories we lose together!

Suckers Intl. Has Gone Public

The toilet perfume guy in Zanzibar declared "no spray, no lay". I can't quite put this into words right now, but I felt like a total idiot being in the same sphere as certain people last night.

Heh, I am a total idiot.

Disconnected

My phone has died and up until a second ago, my facebook was also down! My, how I panicked.

Protest the Hero went on AFTER, not BEFORE Strike Anywhere on Tuesday night. Which is not what was advertised. I have since heard that S.A. had gear issues, but still, how I hate that shitty band even more now.

Propagandhi were great as always, despite not smiling once. As always. They played "natural disasters", which meant Todd actually did some vocals! That was the highlight for me.

Help Me

Yet again I find that I haven't blogged for a while. Ah well, Bejewled ruins everything I guess. I recorded this list of songs recently from when I struggled through the Heanor 10k. I took my iPod and put it on a shuffle of top rated songs, and no word of a lie, this is what was played, in this order! Every single song was not only ace, but the lyrics seemed to speak out to me;

Above Them - For Those that Paved the Way (“We're tired but we're not giving in”)
NOFX - Eat the Meek (“Why must we stay, where we don't belong?”)
Strike Anywhere - I'm your Opposite Number (“We're still fighting each other, I'm your opposite number”)
Box Car Racer - Cat-like Thief (“The best thing yet to help you through and through”)
Passenger Action - The Flight Test (Instrumental, but inspiring all the same)
A Wilhelm Scream - Career Suicide (“Run, motherfucker, run!”)
Belvedere – Anaesthetic (“Time on my own...I'll ignore any reminder of my normal life”)
Idlewild - (The Night Will) Bring you Back to Life (“And you know that the night can bring you back to life”)
Intensity – Elecciones (A Mexican cover song about elections. It was the POWER that helped)
Only Crime - Eyes of the World (“and let me justify the time that I catch my breath”)
Blink 182 - Adam's Song (“I can't wait 'till I get home, to pass the time in my room alone”)
Box Car Racer - Letters to God (“I swear I'll take just one lifetime”... OK, so that was more reverse psychology)
Good Clean Fun - What Corporate Rock can't Say (“It never works to play their game, things always turn out the same”)
Propagandhi - Rock for Sustainable Capitalism (“If anyone out there understands, can I please see a show of hands? Just so I know I'm not insane”)
Intensity - Resist Control (“How much oppression can you take?... Resist control”)
Good Riddance - Darkest Days (“Running on adrenaline...looking for the end or a place I can finally come clean”)
Comeback Kid - The Blackstone (“The chilling sound is fitting in just right”)
The Ataris - Your Boyfriend Sucks (“and you're waiting there, it's tearing you apart”)
Stiff Little Fingers - Guitar & Drum (“I believe in the power of guitar & drum”... so true!)
Bush - Straight No Chaser (“Drink life as it comes, straight no chaser, life as it comes, straight no chaser, flying inside you, away from strangers...It's all in the way we know that we could have it all, some satellites of pain can always be ignored.” Not the most energetic song right at the finish, but fuck me, such a fucking great song.)

OK, so maybe a few were a little abstract, but I'll be damned if they didn't help me through every metre! Plus the Relentless, heh. Here's to the next one! Maybe I'll get round to writing again soon.

New Architects

So about 20 minutes ago, as a student of International Relations & Third World Development & Global Development, I was sat in a lecture listening to how Sodium Sulphate effects different kinds of rock.

Is Derby shit? Discuss.

Prognosis: Fuck You

Hmmm. It appears my facebook account has been deleted due to terms of use violation. I love it how someone has reported me for something and not even had the balls to email me about it. I'm not sure what has happened, but I know this for sure... I'm not sure I need it!

Oh yes, Frank Turner was wank last night. Well, he wasn't wank, he played quite well, I just didn't enjoy it very much. He played Rock City in Nottingham, and people were loving it. It was absolutely packed. It just didn't feel right. Plus, his playing up to the crowd annoyed me. I don't want the last song to go on for 10 minutes whilst he gets a round of applause for everyone, including his American tour manager. I won't be bothering again!

Fucking Rich Fuck The Poor

Well, it seems like ever since I have moved to Derby, an invisible force has been trying to get me back into gambling. There are 3 pieces of evidence for this;

1) Skybet, the only betting firm I didn't delete my account with, actually called me to ask why I wasn't betting anymore! She was friendly enough, it wasn't a demand or anything, but I still had to justify myself! Hmmm. Anyway, they asked if I'd had my free fiver, so I said no and put it on England to beat Ukraine. D'oh! That'll ensure I'll never get back into it! Cheers Rio.

2) Betfred are taking on cashiers. I applied for the position after much thought. I do want a job, but I don't want to work as a flyer guy. At one point, it seemed like that's all there is in Derby. I actually went to apply at Bar Lisi, but the sign had already been taken down! So, off to Betfred I marched. Fucking hell. A week later and I haven't heard anything, so maybe I won't have to suffer some of their odourous clientel. But some people have doubted my ability to handle it, I wish I could prove them wrong.

3) This is super bizzare. A guy approached me when I was on my way to pick Nat up from the train station. He seemed decent enough, a little younger than me, non-stinky. Basically he wanted me to come into the bookies and give £20 over for him so he could pay his "winning bet". He gets £30 back, I get my £20. It seemed fine at the time. But on this occasion, I had genuine reasons; I wanted to be on time for Nat and I told him I was trying to stay away. He wouldn't accept this, so I had to say it a little louder and he got it. Do I look so gullible? I told him to try someone else, he couldn't seem to fathom this. So maybe I was his easy target.

So, whatever is going on, I survive for now! There are shit loads of betting shops though...

Allies

Apparantley, homosexuality is a "disease". This was not spoken by a homophobe. Dear oh dear.

Fucked

Ok, well, I just attended the 3rd running meet since joining the society. The first one was 4 miles/6.5km, which was the furthest I'd ever ran. That was followed the next morning by the football trials. So, yeah. I couldn't walk over that weekend.

Anyway, tonight was 10km. I'm actually doing OK, save for a major headache. Note to myself: fucking keep it up! I ate a full tub of chocolate Swedish Glace today for a start...

Speak To Our Empty Pockets

So I've now moved into Derby Uni, and whilst it's not yet blown away the previous version of me, I am looking forward to getting stuck in!

I actually thought I would be gagging for a job, and I still am financially, but I actually don't know if I'll have the time! Well, if the rest of the year is as work-free as the first 2 weeks, I'll be OK, but I somehow doubt it. I forced myself to hand in a CV today at a bar I liked (there aren't many), but they had taken the sign down for staff hire. So we'll see.

I'm really happy with my flatmates, I haven't been placed with 18 year old "party animal" wankers, so it's cool. Derby itself seems to have plenty of unsavouy characters, including one kid who called me a "Guinness drinking wanker" outside the halls the other night. For no reason. Nevermind!

Finally, I always thought I didn't really have an accent, but since moving here, I have said a couple of things that sounded to me like pure Derby speak. However, it's quite possible it's rubbing off on me already!

Ah yes, as for the last post, I was depressed. Here's to changing it!

Jumper

Nothing has turned out so far.

Amsterdamned!

Well, I am in Amsterdam again. I am having trouble finding any decent falafel. One thing I don't seem to be short of is absolute arsewipes. I don't love being in this city at all, there is just something that doesn't sit right with me. Especially since the peace and quiet of Arnhem.

I am moving into uni in 8 days. Fuck, things have moved on! Maybe I will write a proper blog soon.

I have been free of the buses for over 2 months now and my legs are finally starting to regain strength. I feel my brain is firing back up again. God I hated that shithole.

Here's to a new era!

Runs In The Family

Today me and ran the Birchwood High 5k fun run, which hurt a lot because we ate the most Chinese food ever last night, and I finished Nat's off for breakfast. Also I had no water. I managed 27 minutes, which is shit, but good conisdering my pain. I have just got a BRAND SPANKING NEW veruka now too which hurts. Nat did 37 minutes, which she was chuffed about.

Anyway I thought I'd better record my old times before I forget them all. They were both last year.

St. Helens 5k - 23 minutes
Manchester Tree-athlon (5k) -28 minutes.

Continue!

Down With The Downfall

I don't worry about going grey; I'm forever going white with the vitiligo. It never depresses more than when I'm in a hot country and the rest of my skin usually gets burnt to buggery, such as now. It seems like every time I step in the shower I spot a new patch.

Plus, I am more convinced every day that the rings around my eyes are also caused by the vitiligo. Today, when shaving, I noticed that the entire ring of skin around my eyes is now discoloured- even the bit below my eyebrows. To say I feel sad about this is an understatement.

However, today I have also finally finished "Gulag: A History" by Anne Applebaum. To say I feel sad about the contents of this book is just downright wrong. The final chapter is about remembering the past, and it was like every single line in the book had not sunk in until that point.

I wanted to mention both these things together. I hope you can spot why.

Memorial Day

I bet you never though you'd see me scratching at air like an amputee. So what's left? I've got a head like a trainwreck. Who's keeping count of the casualties? Fatigue thrusts its jackhammer fists into my eyes, but I'm afraid to lie down. Afraid to slow down. Afraid to go home. (It's gonna catch up to me…) I'm tied in knots because of what I'm not and I can't share what I haven't got. So here's to the skinned knees and sutured hearts. Here's to the unhappy endings and all the false starts.

Never Going To Drink Again

Okay, so I know I have said this many, many times before, but hear me out. Yesterday I got up early to finally get fucking shut of my hired Seat Leon, or actually it may have been an Ibiza. I then took the (rather fantastic) train to Torremolinos to look for a job, and ended up drinking with a whole load of British people all over town, wondering what the hell to do. On one hand I was bored, and could not think of a fucking thing to do other than drink, but on the other, I could potentially be meeting a future employer. So I sipped, read, talked shit and had my ears filled with yet more shit. The aim was to stay sober until Tina's opened at 7pm, who had a "Staff Wanted" sign outside. The only place on the entire coast, it would seem.

However, when that time finally arrived, it became crystal clear that the people who worked there were complete posing pratts, and that the job would involve hanging on the street and begging people to dispense with their cash (and freedom of choice) in Tina's. So I sat down in Mulligan's Irish Bar (which was kind of rare, an Irish bar overseas) to watch the Newcastle game. Eventually I got talking to two lads, one from Newcastle and the other from Lichfield.

To cut a boring story short, I ended up not that drunk, sat outside a brothel in the freezing cold at 4:30am, listening to "Refusing To Be A Man" by Propagandhi and playing Klondike on my iPod whilst the two lads paid €70 to sit and talk to a naked girl. During this time, two living skeletons asked me to come inside, "out of the cold". It was at this point that I wondered what the fuck I was doing. I had spent the previous 2 hours in Lineker's bar, with the most killable bar team and D.J. of all time and a load of people trying to put their dicks in other people.

I never want to drink alcohol again. Over the past 2 weeks, I have been drinking every single day, and have gained lots of weight, lost lots of memories and puked up lots of guts. I am now 24, and am increasingly noticing the dumb way people act when drunk. I am a fan of conversation and focus. Maybe I can become a better person if I try to find fun AWAY from alcohol. Plus, I really would like to get fit.

The thing is, I like trying different beers and alcoholic beverages. I don't want to rule out drinking, but it's been proven that I simply can not drink just one or two, and sometimes this is enough to make me want to inject falafel into my veins

Besides, if I drink Pepsi or Coca-Cola, I feel like a twat every single time, even though I know me resisting those companies will not change the world. Soft drinks are too damned tasty, which is a problem. They wreck your insides and are gone within about 5 seconds. In my case anyway.

There's water, but come on. Just, come on.

Fruit juice is viable, but it feels like a cop-out. It reminds me that I only get my ALL-IMPORTANT five-a-day when I drink 6 litres of the stuff.

Coffee and tea are nice, but we all know they aren't a practical or healthy alternative.

Anyway, I must dash soon to find a local bar showing the Barca game where I won't be treated like Les Battersby trying to get into a billionaire's convention on an island in the Med constructed entirely out of poor people. Which probably means either hiking it way into Malaga, or putting up with the snobbery in the local bar.

It looks like I'm reaching for the beer again.

Farts Are Jazz To Assholes

Okay, so too long has passed. Mainly because every time I can't be arsed to blog something I think could be interesting, I end up having a imaginary pile of writing that keeps increasing, so I ignore it. Fuck it.

All that needs to be said that New York was fucking ace, and Spain is in the process of being fucking ace. I am drunk right now, so I will refrain from typing any of my recent thoughts. It appears I may have to be careful from now on.

But rest assured, I will be more drunk later on. Anyway, to give this blog a general theme, can I just say that I hired a car in Malaga, and I honestly don't know if I'm in any fit state to drive ever again.

No Way Back

Ok, I'll say a little more post-Wednesday, but I just wanted to mark today with a little note. These last couple of months have been nothing short of amazing. Apart from the work aspect. With that now gone, I can't wait to make up for lost time! Besides, it's nice to have my dignity back.

Still feeling lost being back home with my feet on the ground. Time to get out there!

Note: Not sacked. Still employed. Totally shocked! This mostly still applies.

Stab. Stab. Stab.

Ah HA! So people do read this shit! Epic lulz etc.

Your Kung-Fu Is Old...Now You Must Die!

How is it that people think it's cool to openly criticise me on such trivial things? A particular one that annoys me is "woah... you need a shave!". Do I respond and go "woah... you need to lose weight!"? No, this is rude.

It's the same at football. I am repeatedly told my passes are shite, I should have been goal-side or that I could have made that ball. Yeah, all those are probably true. I'm just not interested in other people's opinion on my footballing skills, or lack of. I could hand these people a guitar and rip the shit out of their shitty attempts to play it.

Come to think about it, they could probably do the same to me.

Go Back To The Gym

Ok so yesterday was my first session at Hard Labour gym with the Cannon. Totally embarrassing.

My arms are going to drop off.

Numbskull

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Brand New Day

May this be the day that I finally fuck those off who piss me off each and every day.

Signed,

No balls

P.S. You Rock My World

Well, what a weekend! Friday: Theatre and Wagamama's with a hotel stay, Saturday: Tampopo and watching "Valkyrie" at the Printworks Odeon, and Sunday: Trafford Centre with another Tampopo and also watching "Role Models".

Now, my immediate thoughts when reading that back one day should be "shit... look at all that money spent!" but I really hope I think of all that sexy, sexy food. Although Sunday's Tampopo wasn't great... the Kimchi (spicy, pickled cabbage) was easily one of the most disgusting things I've eaten in years, and due to a double mistake (one mine, one theirs) they tried to bring us a beef dish each. I still feel sick now. I FUCKING LOVE the Yasai Chilli Men at Wagamama's. It's my goal to get Mum and Dad to eat there.

As for the theatre, I enjoyed "See How They Run" slighly more than "An Ideal Husband"- funnier all the way through, although AIH had some harder laughing going on, if that makes sense. My first farce! I really hope me and Nat get to go the theatre more often. So absorbing! The writing is great too.

Despite all this, the highlight of the weekend for me was without a doubt checking out of the hotel/hostel. They were playing "Macho Nachos" by the Mad Caddies! I never thought I'd be checking out to the Caddies! Boner! Also, I made toast with two Swedes, a German and an Irish. Kinda embarrassing to be "just from up the road"!

Kidding babe, the highlight was spending all this time with you (despite all the sniffling, ha). I love you so much!

Music Is None Of My Business

So I read the other day that Lily Allen has been moaning because she makes no money off her record sales. Also, over the weekend, me and Nat visited two seperate Zavvi stores to check out their closing down sales. Now I find out that Frank Turner's "Love Ire & Song" is being re-released. Maybe with Frank now starting to crack the states the label found this necessary. I have no idea.

It's just all a bit fucked up. I only buy music digitally now, so it's a bit rich coming from me, but I can't help but think of all the independent music shops that have shut over the years. Shops owned by people who generally LOVE music, and not some graduate dork who just sees the salary and bends over. Now, one of their conquerers, Zavvi (Virgin) are themselves shutting down. You would think that the clearance prices would render things cheap. Oh no. DVDs were still up to a tenner a time. This I have a huge problem with. The mark up on DVDs is extortionate, and always has been. Also, frequently, even with piracy, films have already made a killing at the cinema before they even reach the home viewing stage. So to ask people to pay up to £20 for a film, regardless of "special features", and then sometimes release a special edition, which some halfwits shell out again for, is just outrageous.

It's the same with HMV, whose days are numbered in my eyes. Think of all the music around today, all the great albums you want to hear. HMV STILL can be seen charging 16.99 for a fucking cd! Now, I'm no Peter Jones, but I thought the words "adapt" and "survive" were quite closely linked in the business world.

Back to the label/Lily Allen thing. This model is ancient, and I understand that in days gone by, labels were essential to some artists success. Not anymore. Yet the majors are still creaming as much as they can off other people's creations. Although shits like Allen aren't exactly innocent themselves. Look at all the fucking useless merch. Look at the ticket prices, even with all the sponsorship deals.

It seems Frank is going for it now, and whilst this makes me a little sad, I know he's still honest and in it for the music. So who am I to complain?

Having said that, Fat Mike said it best: "Dinosaurs will die". I can't FUCKING WAIT.

Did You Ever Get A Feeling Of Dread?

Today I got home to discover that our guinea pig Gizmo had died, leaving Buddy. Which kind of makes sense, when I think about it, as Buddy must have eaten twice the amount of food that Gizmo ever did. The dirty bully! We're burying Gizmo tonight and it looks like Nat won't be there, despite me expliticly asking that she would be. Nevermind, I (we) am still a little upset over the Jason Manford episode. All that matters is that we say goodbye to Gizmo properly. My first (and best) memory of the two will always be waking up to have Mum and my brothers in my room with 2 new additions to our family crawling all over me. They were so tiny!

Buddy is with me right now, and has been for a couple of hours. Just chilling with me on the bed. This is something I should have done sooner. It's strange, I had been thinking about the yengbusters a lot recently as I hadn't seen them for about a week, what with the weather, dark and poopy working hours. I just hope I get to make up for lost time with Buddy. Although Gizmo seemed in perfect health so you never know.

In other news, I have been rejected by Manchester (who gives one) and Norwich (life-wrecker!) Universities. I have been accepted into Derby and Coventry. Just waiting on Preston now. As I am getting closer, I can fully see this Europe trip not happening and me ending in a far off town at a University I never wanted to be at in the first place.

Luckily, Frank Turner and Jason Manford made for a great weekend!

Head? Chest? Or Foot?

OK so me and Nat went to the cinema last night to see "Defiance". I reviewed the fucker on facebook, but that is not the point of this blog. I am going to go for it and have a Lewis Myspace style bitching.



First of all, whilst the magazine is right next to me and we are about to leave to watch United twat Chelsea, the cover of "take 5" magazine (a Daily Star pull-out) has "Katy Perry: The bad girl of pop" on it. OK we're leaving now so I will come back to this OUTRAGE. Anyway. Many days have passed and there is so much I have not blogged. So I have actually calmed down some what, however I still find it fucking ridiculous that this feature was merely a double page spread of all the crazy outfits she had worn. Such as a fried egg. Ooohhh! BAD-ASS! Pop is such a fucking joke. Why is shit like this even printed, nevermind paid for by complete fucking idiots?

OK so me and Nat have been to the cinema a couple of times recently and both times we have been shown the same advert reel. One of the adverts which ACTUALLY OFFENDS ME (Max Bemis = cock), was the one where it shows a marine wading through the jungle in some far off land whilst a guy is voicing over with words like "fear. Pressure. Adrenaline". Anyway, a local tribesman comes from the trees and points a gun at the marine. However the Marines have got this one fucking covered! All of this twat's buddies pop up and point their guns at the guy. He proceeds to soil himself, and the voice says something along the lines of "brotherhood".

Now, this pisses me off because it is almost a dead cert that someone, somewhere will be watching that and thinking "fuck yeah! I can be that guy! I can prove how fucking hard I am! The advert says it's tough being a Marine, and that if I can do all that shit than I am pretty special!". There we have it. The government has recruited some other dickhead to do their dirty work for them. I mean, the advert ACTUALLY shows it! These marines were in a foreign land, and for what (good) reason would that be? Well, if the governent wants it doing, it must be right, right? Furthermore, bcause it's in our countries interest, I suppose it's cool that in real life these fuckwits probably would not think twice about taking a life for the powers that be.

And all this in the comfort of our own local Odeon. When companies and governments collide, we suffer in the end.

Dick Lips

Today I noticed a huge cock drawn into the frost on a bus stop on Glover Road. It was the size of the stop.

I don't think the old lady getting on at the time appreciated my unrelenting laugher.

In other news, Coventry accept!

The Great Test

An entry from my high school year book, in the summer of 2000:

So Al,
It's time at last, we're leaving, so do you think you have matured??? Probably not (mentally anyway). You've continued to repeatedly push my patients (sic) to the wire, but I'm still here, helping you out when you need it. But I regularly ask myself why??? Why am I still here?? Why do I put up (with) the day in day out abuse?? I have put up with it for too long, I expect you to mature in the next year, grow out of your Mosher Madness (mabey (sic) you won't).

So see ya next year, we're obviously going to stay together, but that will obviously be regularly questioned, I do have a limit so please calm down you skittage or you will find yourself with fewer mates.

Grow up
From Big Pete.

That was 8 and a half years ago. It's strange that I find this today of all days. A couple of mornings ago Paul the security guard was hungover to buggery (like most of the time) and had his head on the table. So I climbed up on a stool and let rip a hot piercer on his head. He laughed. I laughed. You see, all me and Paul talk about is cocks, stretching anuses and raping babies or something like that. Also, consider the fact that the guy is a fucking scrubber. He is a raging alcoholic, probably never showers and is constantly trying to get me to lend him money. Once I lent him a quid. I got it back about 3 weeks later. A matter of principle. However, don't get me wrong. I like the guy. He's funny as hell. If hell was very funny.

So imagine my surprise today when I fart as usual and he says "oh and by the way, do us a favour mate, don't fart on my head ever again. Do it again and we're going to fall out. I thought that was disgusting." Personally, I really don't see what was disgusting about that or any other act of farting. Additionally, as previously stated, this guy really can't talk. Anyway, point taken. I never set out to aggravate people. Unless they're twats.

Some things never change I suppose.

Insulted By Germans

I have forgotten to note the trip to Dusseldorf on here. Me and Nat, 4 days, her birthday present. I am feeling lazy, so I will just mention how rude I found the people over there.

Perhaps it was big city syndrome, perhaps not.

Chasing Cars

The other night I looked out across the drive from my room and saw 5 cars. There was 6 people home, the 6th person being Nat. Guess who was the odd one out?

For a moment, I felt a sense of underachievement. I felt incomplete.

Then I remembered the reasons why I don't own a car, even if at times I have thought it would be cool.

I'll stick with Europe and Uni.