Pass the snotrag please.......

My weekend so far has been awful. I couldn't get the Killers tickets on Friday, neither could Ellie, it seems the entire world was online attempting to buy them at 9am (I probably disturbed some people at work when I repeatedly growled 'for the love of god and all that is holy' in an effort to magically make the ticketmaster page refresh more quickly.

I have had some weird flu thing since friday, got into bed as soon as I returned from work and I haven't properly left it since. And to top it all off it looks like I'm busing it to work for a while, god how I despise public transport! George's car is a big pile of poo and I resent it still existing. That is all I have to say, I must go empty my head of snot, and prepare myself for a ridiculously early start tomorrow. I wish I had rocket boots, that and a less flawed immune system but hey you can't have everything can you.

Just off to top myself........

Gordon bennet, I haven't even got the energy to do that, suppose I will have to put up with feeling rubbish instead.

Bye

P.S.I hate being ill, last night I was hallucinating, I thought Claire from Hollyoaks was trying to poison me and nobody believed it, except OB, good old OB. Anyway, I'm off to lie in bed and cough myself to death and probably create copious amounts of dribble.....nice!


P.P.S. If I don't get well soon I am going to self medicate using household cleaning products. Wish me luck.

stuff again

Before I forget, Ian, Happy Birthday for Monday! I hope you ate cake and became fat and sassy! And you still haven't told me your new address.

I know, I abandoned my poor blog again, I threw it into the reject bin as if it were sadsack (of raggydoll fame). My plans have all gone pear shaped. I am not in london on saturday which is pants.....but I am paid soon so next month I shall definately show my face (so sara, make yourself available, and happy new house!) Jade is working all weekend so alas there is little point me meeting up with her until she has some time off! Instead I am trying to find her somewhere to live via the internet. Jade, check your emails, I've sent you a lot of properties to mooch at!!!

Been as I just didn't blog this week I shall present a brief summary, oh and explain the title of the post:

last saturday:Did not attend BBQ, went to pub and drank far too many bottles of Magners, watched some live acoustic music, got drunk enough to end up in blastoff.

sunday: recovered, caught train, mostly listened to ipod and yawned a lot.

monday-tuesday: a little bit of a blur, I know I went to work but cannot recall anything particularly exciting.....except that I am going to see Paddy Mcguinness next month with some people at work. That will be a laugh I hope.

Wednesday: Went to work. Went home and watched THUMB WARS

Thursday: Uneventful to such an extent I remember nothing

Now: Just got back from a scary night jog with Ellie (ok we power walked) She has just informed me of the Killers gig the week after my B-DAY at the civic so I shall be mostly buying tickets tomorrow morning. I really want to go see The Young Knives next month at the Oxford Zodiac, if anyone out there likes them (george is apathetic, can I help it if he has rubbish music taste?) please come with me, (except Ben, boohoo you must revise), the tickets are cheap!.

P.S Ellie, you prepare the chocolate digestives, I shall try and get my hands on some chocolate or cake, or chocolate cake for tomorrow evening, no boys, hooray!

Wooool-ver-amp-ton!

Apologies for neglecting my blog, I have been very busy and I am cheese crackered. I got in about half three this morning and for some uncanny reason got up at 9am with no problem. Why do I keep doing this? I reckon I'm still not adjusted to this whole having a weekend lark.

I am currently in good old Wolvo, caught up with loads of people last night which was excellent! I got to see meg and her motley crew (rach, maz, Kate, Ria, Jenna, Rodger, Ed etc.) Saw Liz and Sarah and mostly chatted about Jenny Rubine related memories, and I had a good chat with Greg who I hadn't seen in soooo long! Oh and I mustn't forget the delectable Mr. Matthew Wynters (aka Bushfire) who felt it necessary to remind me how much he used to fancy my mother........which I took as a complement, hey I share some of her genes (No..... actually I meant I share some of her jeans).

Anyway, so far my weekend has been good and after talking to so many old school Wolverhamptoners I'm all chatted out. George is spending his weekend back in Oxford-and I am predicting that he shall be in bed for the majority of it, perhaps with a variety of unhealthy snacks and alcoholic beverages awaiting consumption. So George, if you happen to get your lazy ass out of bed, make sure there are no crumbs please! And can you pump up my tyres, they are still looking pretty deflated. (Totally pointless requests, george never reads this)

I have finally met Ricky (my mum's other half) Only a brief encounter as they both sped off to Manchester for the weekend, going to the Match today. He asked if I liked mum's new car and so I had to do the Karis Car Approval test: This involves me assessing the colour, and whether or not the car has a happy face. It passed on both counts but it does have one of those smug grins as oppose to a generally happy one. Ricky looked a little confused and my mum said "See I told you she was weird" Charming, if my own mother considers me a weirdo what hope have I got fooling Ricky into thinking that I'm sane?

My mum having a new car (by' new' I mean 'new' to her, in fact it is old but in a funky retro way), means that I can buy her old one off her which is cool. I love the little red Micra.

My nan is in Llandudno (I have told her to investigate an Alice shop there to see if it's as good as the Oxford one) and so the house is pretty empty bar me and Wally. But company shall be arriving in the form of Martin and Michael this evening, we are having a BBQ and I'm going to attempt not to drink as much as I did last night and force my brothers mates to watch Willow, the best film ever.

For now I am going to try and sort out my mum's computer, it is dying and full of rubbishy virusy things, I do hope I an make it better not worse. I am using it at the moment and the keyboard is sooooo frustrating, most of the keys don't work very well so I have to practically punch each letter with incredible and potentially damaging (to me not the keyboard) force! Aghhhhh. I have to keep revising entire sentences because they are missing very vital letters such as vowels and R's, of all the letters why must the R be the one to go on strike?

And so I am going to perhaps raid the cupboards for....well lets see, soup or tuna is on the menu, maybe I could concoct a potent fish/soup combo? Or live off cereal until Martin starts up the BBQ, cereal is the more appealing option here me thinks.

Cheerio, will try and update this thing whenever possible, and preferbly using a more finger friendly keyboard.

P.S. Congratulations to Jade, she has passed her first three airoplaney doodar exams, and even got 94% in one, the little swat!

P.P.S. I should be in London next Saturday to help flat hunt with Jade so anyone (not literally anyone, people in the general London Vecinity that I know) up for meeting and having a drink let me know and we can arrange stuff!

The weighting Game

Thanks to the death of my bike and my lack of concern, the tyres are still flat (I'm waiting for George to pump them up....could be a long wait) and so last night I was feeling energetic and racking my brain for interesting ways to exercise that didn't involve going outside. So I created my own 'Dance with mini girly weights'. It is a simple routine which works very well to the HotChip album in particular. Unfortunately I was part way through my routine (which is brilliantly ridiculous), when george opened the door and laughed histerically at me. I was a little upset that he hadn't been blinded by my choreographical genius. No, instead he asked me what I was doing. I answered in the usual way 'I'm grating my face, what does it look like?' And he left me to it.

What makes the routine look a bit rigid and robotic-like, is the restrictions you have due to holding weights and moving simultaneously, it does give you an insight into what life must be like for people that suffer with elephantitis in their arms. Anyway, I think this routine could catch on, it's a bit like Hardcore cheerleading minus the pompoms and the cheeriness of course. It will do for now, I'm hoping Ellie will agree to continue our 'Punk Aerobics'. We wanted to start up classes, I'm pretty sure enough weirdos would show up. The warm-up involves spitting and moshing quite a bit. And exercising in DM's would certainly build up your calf muscles. Anyone interested in 'punk aerobics' let me know, I need to be sure there is a market before I begin teddybear rolling in saftey pin-clad denim.

As for my day today, work was good, I'm learning loads of new stuff which is both useful and a little overwhelming but everyone is really nice and chilled so I'm enjoying it, plus I get to watch Jeremy Kyle at lunch if I get to the remote first! I am in need of chorizo so I'm off to buy some food (please let the shops have the lovely chorizo, oh how did I ever survive before without you?)

And George. KEEP YOUR MITTS OFF MY BLEEDIN' PASTA!

Cheerio folks

PUNK ROCK AEROBICS

Death of a Bicycle

My bike died today. Okay so I'm exaggerating a bit, the tyres are flat. The little bit of breath left in them hissed itself out into the ether as I rode into Headington to buy food. If I had realized it was on its last wheels I would have walked but I didn't (realize, or walk) and so I had a very strugglesome journey there and an infuriatingly slow and tragic journey back home. It is very strange cycling a bike with flat tyres, it is as if you are the weakest person ever, you apply all your energy and the bike moves less than a meter at about 1mph. One full circle of push on the pedals and you feel like you're in the gym attempting to use some crazy contraption that a huge muscley guy has fiddled with and set to the most horrendous gear known to man. At first I thought it was me being unfit but logic interveened-I last cycled two weeks ago, surely a fortnight of bicycle neglect wouldn't reduce my legs to useless, withered lengths of skin and bone. So I checked the tyres, yep they were squidgy, and squidgy tyres are not good, they are totally rubbish actually. I didn't discover the squidginess until I had cycled too far to turn back so I went food shopping knowing I had to walk my bike back. There is nothing worse than walking with a bike. It is sooooo annoying, the whole idea of having a bike is to speed up your journey, but mine was slowing me down, it was holding me back, aghhhh the stupid piece of scrap, the hunk of junk, I have grown tired of its tyreless ways. I would have kicked it but I was too loaded up with shopping and I didn't want to break my eggs.

On the upside I did go charity shop shopping and found three Douglas Coupland books in Oxfam which is pretty good.




Right, off to see Ellie and Ben's rabbits Floss and Fidel (they get lonely when Ellie and Ben are away) And Ellie-I shall bring back your hoover I promise.

Now that my bike is dead I shall start using the old Penny Farthing again, trusty old fellow, but murder to get on and off, and there isn't any way of fitting a bicycle helmet over the old top hat so a bit on the risky side if you ask me, but spanking great fun I tell you. Toodlepip.

Pinch me punch me first of the month me!

It is the weekend already, my it has turned up quickly!

Tonight my plan is to eat a large portion of fish and chips, followed by a big bar of Galaxy chocolate. Then, after an hours recovery I shall drink enough wine to illude myself to the point where I actually believe ironing is a good idea. I only ever iron when I'm drunk, it just works better for me that way, you know, not being fully conscious helps detract you from the monotony. In fact, ironing can be fun when you are drunk, but not if you iron your arms, that is a bad, disfiguring habit I ought to break. When did my friday nights become so uneventful, I'm considering bloody ironing on a bloody friday night, bloody hell, my god what is wrong with me? (just slapping myself round the chops with a piece of battered cod) That's better. Right, perhaps I will just drink a lot of wine and look at the pile of ironing, then dismiss it and go do something fun. Nah, can't be bothered to move. Hmmmmm......I am making a promise to myself that as soon as I get paid at the end of the month I am dismissing the ironing every friday and I shall do fun, entertaining things! But tonight as I am quite poor the only thing I can do is find new ways of irritating George. Okay I am going to speak like Kryten all evening (red dwarf/scrapheap challenge guy) Yes, that's it, I will manage to even irritate myself doing that. It's a plan, bye folks, got some serious stupidity to attend to.

Later.........
I'm now fat. I cannot move, the piece of cod I just consumed was bigger than a five year old. I have the ability to eat a five year old.
Okay, George is far too absorbed in computer games (and far too fat from chips) to find me in the least entertaining so I am now going to iron, then read, and I may drink some of the Linctus I have become addicted to since I had a cold. It is a lemon and honey generic tesco's cough lintus but it's really nice, I'm constantly overdosing on the stuff.....well you've got to get your thrills somewhere haven't you?

Nighty nite.

P.S. Mum, get out of the pub and answer your phone, I'm bored.....and shouldn't this be the other way round? I'm feeling a bit like Saffy from Ab Fab (minus the dodgy woolen waistcoat and corduroy combo's) I want to know if you have read any of 'DRY'. I'm assuming if you have read any it had a similar effect on you and made you see the fun side of being an alcoholic?

Anyway.......I'm a bit tipsy now, time to iron.