Evening all... As it was just pointed out to me I have neglected the blog for far too long and because of this my opinion has been unfamiliarly kept to itself, don't worry though, this will be rectified immediately. I start though with something i wrote yesterday....
As I begin to write this entry I should theoretically be listening to the lecture I am sat in, but I lost the thread of it about 20minutes ago, and any attempt at concentration and understanding would be about as successful as Arsenal's goalkeeping.
In the last week I have managed to hand in my last assignment before Christmas, visit the countries most obscurely placed hospital in deepest, darkest Kent, catch up with a couple of friends over lunch, decorate my bedroom with tinsel, lights and a small tree as well as watching plenty of crap television. That to me is plenty of work and effort for the time being so this is me shutting down my concentration and brain power for a well-earned Christmas break!
Well actually I tell a lie, I'm not quite shut down completely as of yet. Today I will attempt to cook a roast dinner for the first time, as I’ve had neither to inclination or will to try before. This could go truly badly, or it may well give me further reasons to shout about domestic godliness that is so far based around the ability to make a bed, Hoover and wash-up... What a guy! Either way, await the tale because it's sure to be a descriptive frenzy of loonie-ness and crazed attempts to describe what has happened using slap-stick, over the top adjectives!
(2 Minutes later) Has time stopped moving?
Apparently i still have another 15 minutes of this lecture to sit through... I might try writing the story to pass the time?
Well that was the strange ramblings of yesterday. Coming up in separate entries will be the opening to that story, and most importantly the tale of my roast dinner! Speak Soon
Tuesday, 14 December 2010
Thursday, 2 December 2010
This is Snow Joke!
Greetings from what can now definitely be described as Snowy Portsmouth, even if you've been up since 8 O'clock! Having had up to 6 inches of snow the chaos that is described as THE BIG FREEZE has resulted in missed and cancelled seminars, and an extra day in bed for myself whilst I recover from the illness Curry World decided to give me. At the moment I have no idea if my 9 o'clock seminar will be on tomorrow morning, if I’ll be able to get a train home in the afternoon or if both might be cancelled leaving me with another day in bed... The uncertainty that snow seems to bring the UK. I can't help but think people in Finland, Norway, Russia and other Eastern European states will be laughing at the way we react, describe and behave when snow occasionally settles here in the UK, but what can you do?
In other news, today we lost the bid to host the world cup in 2018 and embarrassingly we came at least 3rd behind Spain/Portugal and Russia, 2 countries that barely bothered to report it on their respective news channels whilst our media has spent half of their time reporting the bid and the other half sabotaging it (with the odd breaking news story about snow), and this just serves to prove we may as well not bother. The nation was behind it, the government was behind it, the royal family was behind it and the golden-boy of English football gave a stirring speech too whilst the Russian president couldn't be bothered to make the journey and they still won. A lesson to be learnt from this saga, don't try to hard, don't get our hopes up and certainly don't let the press or television companies get involved because to them viewers and readers are more important than national success.
In other news, today we lost the bid to host the world cup in 2018 and embarrassingly we came at least 3rd behind Spain/Portugal and Russia, 2 countries that barely bothered to report it on their respective news channels whilst our media has spent half of their time reporting the bid and the other half sabotaging it (with the odd breaking news story about snow), and this just serves to prove we may as well not bother. The nation was behind it, the government was behind it, the royal family was behind it and the golden-boy of English football gave a stirring speech too whilst the Russian president couldn't be bothered to make the journey and they still won. A lesson to be learnt from this saga, don't try to hard, don't get our hopes up and certainly don't let the press or television companies get involved because to them viewers and readers are more important than national success.
Tuesday, 30 November 2010
Libraries, Librarians, Building Hatred and Snow
If there is one thing I have an ever increasing and intense hatred of it is Libraries. At the same time if there is one profession that I despise above all else it is Librarians. You have to be a really strange type of person to get any job satisfaction out of working in a Library, but some of these people manage it. Whether they get their kicks from a new delivery of books, the pain they can inflict on poor Library users or the rush of excitement that comes from collecting overdue fines, they somehow manage it. The main thing that I dislike about Portsmouth University Library is the complicated system that involves renewals and fines. I had 3 books due in for 1.30 yesterday; I was able to renew one but not the other 2, no apparent reason, £2.70 fine this morning. B*****ds! Having had a 5 minute conversation with a woman behind the desk, who possessed all the charisma of a carrot-stick I gave up trying to find out why I hadn't been able to renew them and sloped off with a pile of books that I hadn't asked her to renew, how on earth does that work? Another observation of Libraries/ Librarians is the rather unhealthy relationship the staff seems to have with books. Now I appreciate a good or useful book as much as the next guy, but it wouldn't surprise me to see this lot campaigning for equal marriage rights for books and humans so that they can confirm their love by taking the relationship to a new level!
I have come to the conclusion that I will never be able to fully understand Librarians, will never like Libraries, but must get on with using them rather than paying about £400 a week for books which appears to be the alternative...
Snow. One word with the power to excite the nations kids and ground the entire country to a shameful and shambolic halt. Snow has come earlier than normal this year and so far Scotland, the North and a growing section of The South-East has come to a shocking-standstill as people fail to make work or school because of a bit of frozen water. What this proves isn't that "THE BIG FREEZE" has started like the BBC would have us believe, but that we are a nation of lazy skivers who jump at any excuse to do naff-all instead of going to work or school, but what can you do? I'll probably still be staring hopefully at the BBC Portsmouth website when our snow-fall gets heavier in hope the University is shut because I can mix it with the best where laziness is concerned!
I have come to the conclusion that I will never be able to fully understand Librarians, will never like Libraries, but must get on with using them rather than paying about £400 a week for books which appears to be the alternative...
Snow. One word with the power to excite the nations kids and ground the entire country to a shameful and shambolic halt. Snow has come earlier than normal this year and so far Scotland, the North and a growing section of The South-East has come to a shocking-standstill as people fail to make work or school because of a bit of frozen water. What this proves isn't that "THE BIG FREEZE" has started like the BBC would have us believe, but that we are a nation of lazy skivers who jump at any excuse to do naff-all instead of going to work or school, but what can you do? I'll probably still be staring hopefully at the BBC Portsmouth website when our snow-fall gets heavier in hope the University is shut because I can mix it with the best where laziness is concerned!
Thursday, 18 November 2010
A mad/normal week...
Started 17/11/2010: My last proper post on here was last Wednesday and since my feedback request was about as well responded to as Tony Blair at a Veterans reunion I had the choice about carrying on or accepting there was probably no point... well as I'm bored now and have approximately 12 minutes until my dinner is ready i thought I'd continue regardless!
Well what has happened since last Wednesday? As the deadline of my first real assessment, A 1200-1500 word Document Commentary, fast approached the time that I have been able to spend on anything has seriously decreased, but the good news is that was handed in with 90 minutes of the deadline to spare on Tuesday morning and is out of the way now. However... my next deadline is this approaching Tuesday and I think Gordon Brown was better prepared for the Credit Crunch than I am for this, and we all know what has happened to poor Gordon now. *Cameron waves from No. 10*
This weekend I went home again with the view of getting more work done than I would in Portsmouth due to less distractions etc, and I really hope that theory proves even more successful this week as I estimate that I have double the amount of research to fit into half of the amount of time, give or take... this could be interesting! I did take one break over the weekend though (minus sleeping) and this was to watch David Haye smash Audley Harisson's face in. Frankly I'm still not entirely sure it was worth the 14.95 my dad paid for it due to the fact the only action was scrunched up into about 90 seconds and consisted of big ol' Fraudley standing there while Haye went all Joey Barton on him. A fun 90 seconds, and an expected result, but a let-down all the same. Sunday also saw Smithy's first day at work... 9-5 he managed and I'm still not sure how but fair play to him and good luck with the job in general. That shift was not the most interesting part of his working week however and it took a dramatic turn towards weirdness on Tuesday when the NIGHT-TEAM ASSEMBLED!
Continued 23/11/2010: Apologies, it really has been too long since I updated this now and if anyone is actually reading this blog you deserve my most sincere apologies. Anyway, where was I? Ah yes... NIGHT-TEAM ASSEMBLE! Well once the night-team had assembled it turned out to be a disappointing truth behind the lime green veil of excitement, AKA Smith's uniform. The effect on his sleeping pattern has been interesting to say the least and he has had the privilege of working with some of Portsmouth's more colourful characters. On his first night he teamed up with the toothless-wonder, a rather unfortunate middle-aged woman called Gill who had about as many teeth as brain cells, was about as easy to understand as a Geordie after a few pints and found the name Andrew highly amusing. Night two didn't really improve either as this time he found himself working with a pleasent young chap called Clive. Now Clive was a bit of character too and at the start of the shift Smith thought he might be working with a bit of head case who thought himself as a bit handy, and by the end of the night Clive was twirling and jumping as he stocked the shelf and was happily telling Smithy all about his partner and the life he'd made himself locally. Clive was as bent as a nine bob note, and damn proud of it.
Wednesday in Portsmouth is rubbish collection, and that fits as a description as well as a name! Walking out of my house that morning I must have got a similar shock to Sam Tyler waking up in 1973, and the parallels are uncanny. Talk about returning to the dark ages, after time to consider and stew on it (as I tend to do), I came up with the comparison to the winter of discontent that marked the beginning of the end of the Prime Minister-ship of James Callaghan in 1978-79. Rubbish literally lined the streets and it looked a bit like everyone had gone on strike.
Thursday I was faced with yet more blog worthy material. As myself and Daly walked back from the gym in the evening (Yes I've joined a gym!) we saw a crowd building in the City-Centre for what turned out to be the turning on of the christmas lights. Even if you overlook the fact they chose to do it on a Thursday evening for reasons unbeknown to most people there was still plenty to question. Their choice of entertainment was a strange one, and seemed to consist of Portsmouth's rather un-kept looking answer to Cheryl Cole singing 'Promise This' on a pokey little stage whilst crowds of people that were beginning to question why they'd bothered to venture out of their homes pretended to listen. All in all a pretty impressive failure. Either Portsmouth City Council are on a budget of about £35 for the next 2 years or they just didn't make the effort in the same way many Towns and Villages across the country do. Little over 2 minutes up the road and we encountered proof of why my faith in man-kind and the people enforcing our laws has faded somewhat since cynicism has replaced youthful optimism. (Well ok I've never been particularly optimistic but it's getting worse believe me!) Now this really did take the proverbial cake and can be described as community policing at its very best. Two policemen were stood well back from the crowd looking very official and policey, but as we approached we heard this; "I said to him, I know you're going to be getting up to all sorts tonight but if I don't catch you then there's no problem." Brilliant. Just the kind of guy that I want policing the streets I walk on every day and i DEFINITELY feel safer knowing he's around. Frankly Smithy and the Night-Team could do a better job! Unfortunately that wasn't the end of the nights drama though, and as we attempted to cross the road nearer home my famously short temper with motorists was tested. Well as is generally the case I lost it and eye-balled a woman who had kindly stopped her car on the crossing and said into her open window, "Just chillin' on the crossing? cool", now I'm not sure if she heard what I said but she knew it was aimed at her even though the momentary eye-contact had been lost before I spoke and this can only be because she knew she was in the wrong. However this doesn't mean that she'd be willing to admit being wrong however great her understanding of that fact was, and she attempted to manoeuvre her cigarette into he other hand so she could open her passenger side window to argue. She took so long to do this however I didn't even catch her reply but i'll assume it wasn't a witty or intelligent retort.
The continuous list of things that annoy me continued on Friday as I waited for my train at Portsmouth station. My point that nothing seems to work in this city was compounded by the fact this is the case right up to the point of leaving it, whether this be on the confusing one-way system that leads to the M275 from Gunwharf Quays or on the train. As I waited at the station the automated announcer made a point of repeating several times that we should all step back from the platform edge because the next train would not be stopping. Guess What... It stopped. Well At Least your announcements are correct. Better still though 3 people promptly tried to get on the train, where they thought they were going I don't even want to begin to think about.
Over the weekend I did my bit for The Wagnerlution! Granted he murders songs every week and this week one of my favourites got attacked by Wagner's metaphorical axe, but I was in hysterics for most of the performance and if that doesn't count as entertainment then I don't know what does, and I'm definitely looking forward to his next murder/performance!
If you've made it this far without getting bored then your patience deserves rewarding, I will do my best to round-up quickly... I finish on a positive this time believe it or not, and here it is. Christmas has come to Manchester Road! Today Smithy came in with Advent calendars for Daly and I and this didn't fail to cheer me up out of my continual negative slumber and start the Christmas mood. We've had Boney M, Taylor Swift, Cliff Richard amongst other more traditional Christmas songs this evening and I look forward to getting even more wrapped up in Christmas spirit as we move towards the end of our first term as University Students!
Over and Out :)
Well what has happened since last Wednesday? As the deadline of my first real assessment, A 1200-1500 word Document Commentary, fast approached the time that I have been able to spend on anything has seriously decreased, but the good news is that was handed in with 90 minutes of the deadline to spare on Tuesday morning and is out of the way now. However... my next deadline is this approaching Tuesday and I think Gordon Brown was better prepared for the Credit Crunch than I am for this, and we all know what has happened to poor Gordon now. *Cameron waves from No. 10*
This weekend I went home again with the view of getting more work done than I would in Portsmouth due to less distractions etc, and I really hope that theory proves even more successful this week as I estimate that I have double the amount of research to fit into half of the amount of time, give or take... this could be interesting! I did take one break over the weekend though (minus sleeping) and this was to watch David Haye smash Audley Harisson's face in. Frankly I'm still not entirely sure it was worth the 14.95 my dad paid for it due to the fact the only action was scrunched up into about 90 seconds and consisted of big ol' Fraudley standing there while Haye went all Joey Barton on him. A fun 90 seconds, and an expected result, but a let-down all the same. Sunday also saw Smithy's first day at work... 9-5 he managed and I'm still not sure how but fair play to him and good luck with the job in general. That shift was not the most interesting part of his working week however and it took a dramatic turn towards weirdness on Tuesday when the NIGHT-TEAM ASSEMBLED!
Continued 23/11/2010: Apologies, it really has been too long since I updated this now and if anyone is actually reading this blog you deserve my most sincere apologies. Anyway, where was I? Ah yes... NIGHT-TEAM ASSEMBLE! Well once the night-team had assembled it turned out to be a disappointing truth behind the lime green veil of excitement, AKA Smith's uniform. The effect on his sleeping pattern has been interesting to say the least and he has had the privilege of working with some of Portsmouth's more colourful characters. On his first night he teamed up with the toothless-wonder, a rather unfortunate middle-aged woman called Gill who had about as many teeth as brain cells, was about as easy to understand as a Geordie after a few pints and found the name Andrew highly amusing. Night two didn't really improve either as this time he found himself working with a pleasent young chap called Clive. Now Clive was a bit of character too and at the start of the shift Smith thought he might be working with a bit of head case who thought himself as a bit handy, and by the end of the night Clive was twirling and jumping as he stocked the shelf and was happily telling Smithy all about his partner and the life he'd made himself locally. Clive was as bent as a nine bob note, and damn proud of it.
Wednesday in Portsmouth is rubbish collection, and that fits as a description as well as a name! Walking out of my house that morning I must have got a similar shock to Sam Tyler waking up in 1973, and the parallels are uncanny. Talk about returning to the dark ages, after time to consider and stew on it (as I tend to do), I came up with the comparison to the winter of discontent that marked the beginning of the end of the Prime Minister-ship of James Callaghan in 1978-79. Rubbish literally lined the streets and it looked a bit like everyone had gone on strike.
Thursday I was faced with yet more blog worthy material. As myself and Daly walked back from the gym in the evening (Yes I've joined a gym!) we saw a crowd building in the City-Centre for what turned out to be the turning on of the christmas lights. Even if you overlook the fact they chose to do it on a Thursday evening for reasons unbeknown to most people there was still plenty to question. Their choice of entertainment was a strange one, and seemed to consist of Portsmouth's rather un-kept looking answer to Cheryl Cole singing 'Promise This' on a pokey little stage whilst crowds of people that were beginning to question why they'd bothered to venture out of their homes pretended to listen. All in all a pretty impressive failure. Either Portsmouth City Council are on a budget of about £35 for the next 2 years or they just didn't make the effort in the same way many Towns and Villages across the country do. Little over 2 minutes up the road and we encountered proof of why my faith in man-kind and the people enforcing our laws has faded somewhat since cynicism has replaced youthful optimism. (Well ok I've never been particularly optimistic but it's getting worse believe me!) Now this really did take the proverbial cake and can be described as community policing at its very best. Two policemen were stood well back from the crowd looking very official and policey, but as we approached we heard this; "I said to him, I know you're going to be getting up to all sorts tonight but if I don't catch you then there's no problem." Brilliant. Just the kind of guy that I want policing the streets I walk on every day and i DEFINITELY feel safer knowing he's around. Frankly Smithy and the Night-Team could do a better job! Unfortunately that wasn't the end of the nights drama though, and as we attempted to cross the road nearer home my famously short temper with motorists was tested. Well as is generally the case I lost it and eye-balled a woman who had kindly stopped her car on the crossing and said into her open window, "Just chillin' on the crossing? cool", now I'm not sure if she heard what I said but she knew it was aimed at her even though the momentary eye-contact had been lost before I spoke and this can only be because she knew she was in the wrong. However this doesn't mean that she'd be willing to admit being wrong however great her understanding of that fact was, and she attempted to manoeuvre her cigarette into he other hand so she could open her passenger side window to argue. She took so long to do this however I didn't even catch her reply but i'll assume it wasn't a witty or intelligent retort.
The continuous list of things that annoy me continued on Friday as I waited for my train at Portsmouth station. My point that nothing seems to work in this city was compounded by the fact this is the case right up to the point of leaving it, whether this be on the confusing one-way system that leads to the M275 from Gunwharf Quays or on the train. As I waited at the station the automated announcer made a point of repeating several times that we should all step back from the platform edge because the next train would not be stopping. Guess What... It stopped. Well At Least your announcements are correct. Better still though 3 people promptly tried to get on the train, where they thought they were going I don't even want to begin to think about.
Over the weekend I did my bit for The Wagnerlution! Granted he murders songs every week and this week one of my favourites got attacked by Wagner's metaphorical axe, but I was in hysterics for most of the performance and if that doesn't count as entertainment then I don't know what does, and I'm definitely looking forward to his next murder/performance!
If you've made it this far without getting bored then your patience deserves rewarding, I will do my best to round-up quickly... I finish on a positive this time believe it or not, and here it is. Christmas has come to Manchester Road! Today Smithy came in with Advent calendars for Daly and I and this didn't fail to cheer me up out of my continual negative slumber and start the Christmas mood. We've had Boney M, Taylor Swift, Cliff Richard amongst other more traditional Christmas songs this evening and I look forward to getting even more wrapped up in Christmas spirit as we move towards the end of our first term as University Students!
Over and Out :)
Sunday, 14 November 2010
The Experiment..
It has only just occurred to me that the reason I set up this blog was to find out if what I would be able to contribute to the Internet anything worth reading. So now it has reached the time to ask this question of you the reader... Is this worth reading? Any other additional comments are of course welcome and for my own intrigue I'd like to know who you are reading this.
So my request is if you have been reading the blog, have read this or any part of the blog can you let me know? If you have me on Facebook that would be ideal, Tweet me if that's convenient (@RichardJude17) or comment on this post if you are a blogger. Otherwise brainwave thought communication is welcome but not full proof. Muchas Gracias :)
So my request is if you have been reading the blog, have read this or any part of the blog can you let me know? If you have me on Facebook that would be ideal, Tweet me if that's convenient (@RichardJude17) or comment on this post if you are a blogger. Otherwise brainwave thought communication is welcome but not full proof. Muchas Gracias :)
Wednesday, 10 November 2010
Marching on Westminster..? But it was cold today!
Now I'm all for a bit of optimism in life, frankly you don't get very far without a bit every so often, and that's coming from me, the biggest cynic and moaner on the planet. Generally speaking I even take delight in my own misery, let alone others.
But as I say, a bit of optimism can go a long way if you're optimistic at the right time. Today’s protest regarding tuition fees was not the right time. When a government has made up its mind, protests of any nature aren't going to sway them, let alone the type of protest that resulted today. It had all the organisation of a NO VT protest at Brentwood County High School, and a similar amount of the protestors were band-wagon jumpers who just wanted to cause anarchy too. I understand the frustration and why some people feel strongly about the fees, but the decision has been made, the system will change very little in comparison to the one in place today and frankly I think I made the right decision to keep my painfully Tory stance on the matter... If it doesn't affect me then I don't really care enough to worry myself, and most importantly and the deciding factor regarding my stance on the protests, it was cold today so my centrally heated bedroom was the best place to be.
The other issue with these protests that I couldn't help noticing right from the start was the lack of any attention being paid to them. David Cameron and some of the leading government figures, including Chancellor George Osbourne, he of the extreme budget cuts, were on the other side of the World this morning leaving Deputy PM Nick Clegg as the most senior man around. Even he wasn't interested though as he was a bit busy receiving a similar grilling in the House of Commons from Harriet Harman and the Labour MPs about his failure to live up to re-election promises.
The reality I've come to accept is costs do go up, the Country is in a terrible economic state and the way the government is going about trying to sort out the mess is through massive cuts that result in everyone shouldering the deficit in some way and most importantly, Student Finance is still going to be offering out the loans to cover these fees and the system for paying back the money allows for the graduates to wait longer to start repaying as well. All in all it isn't going to be as dire for those that are prepared to work at University as some are making out and this is a point that may have made some people rethink their day and given less opportunity for the Fruit-loops who spoilt it for those who were just there to stand up for what they believed in.
As I said... A bit of idealism isn't a bad thing, and who knows maybe Cameron may have paid some attention to the goings on from his position of relative comfort over in China, but I fear they'll plug on regardless with the cuts and today will have been a waste of time.
All I know is I have An NUS card for one reason, and that's not to join in socialist rallies against the rise in the cost of higher education. It's so I can go home for a bit cheaper than I would without it.
But as I say, a bit of optimism can go a long way if you're optimistic at the right time. Today’s protest regarding tuition fees was not the right time. When a government has made up its mind, protests of any nature aren't going to sway them, let alone the type of protest that resulted today. It had all the organisation of a NO VT protest at Brentwood County High School, and a similar amount of the protestors were band-wagon jumpers who just wanted to cause anarchy too. I understand the frustration and why some people feel strongly about the fees, but the decision has been made, the system will change very little in comparison to the one in place today and frankly I think I made the right decision to keep my painfully Tory stance on the matter... If it doesn't affect me then I don't really care enough to worry myself, and most importantly and the deciding factor regarding my stance on the protests, it was cold today so my centrally heated bedroom was the best place to be.
The other issue with these protests that I couldn't help noticing right from the start was the lack of any attention being paid to them. David Cameron and some of the leading government figures, including Chancellor George Osbourne, he of the extreme budget cuts, were on the other side of the World this morning leaving Deputy PM Nick Clegg as the most senior man around. Even he wasn't interested though as he was a bit busy receiving a similar grilling in the House of Commons from Harriet Harman and the Labour MPs about his failure to live up to re-election promises.
The reality I've come to accept is costs do go up, the Country is in a terrible economic state and the way the government is going about trying to sort out the mess is through massive cuts that result in everyone shouldering the deficit in some way and most importantly, Student Finance is still going to be offering out the loans to cover these fees and the system for paying back the money allows for the graduates to wait longer to start repaying as well. All in all it isn't going to be as dire for those that are prepared to work at University as some are making out and this is a point that may have made some people rethink their day and given less opportunity for the Fruit-loops who spoilt it for those who were just there to stand up for what they believed in.
As I said... A bit of idealism isn't a bad thing, and who knows maybe Cameron may have paid some attention to the goings on from his position of relative comfort over in China, but I fear they'll plug on regardless with the cuts and today will have been a waste of time.
All I know is I have An NUS card for one reason, and that's not to join in socialist rallies against the rise in the cost of higher education. It's so I can go home for a bit cheaper than I would without it.
Monday, 8 November 2010
Fish are Friends not Food... Oops!
An interesting couple of days, there is no doubt about that. Carnage came to Portsmouth and the 3 of us sharing a house and Mike, Tom and Stanbrook our guests for the weekend were ready for it! Arriving back on Sunday afternoon after a weekend at home I was greeted by a fridge full of alcohol and an oven full of food... what more can you ask for? Well ok if I'm picky I prefer chicken or beef to pork and Stanbrook will do well to remember this for next time but I'll let him off on this occasion.
The proper drinking started shortly after dinner and we got into a card game in which each card is represented by a rule... items had their name changed, people had their name changed and if anything was called by their real name this resulted in a forfeit drink and the whole thing was designed to get everyone very drunk very quickly... Abdul, King, The Daly twins, Tom and myself picked a lot of Tom's (cards), made a chicken noise (yep, a real chicken noise) before taking a chicken (drink) and if you picked the wrong Tom you had to take a drink out of the Smithy's a C**t (The bowl in the middle that was a rather putrid mix of various ciders, Jaeger, Lager and WKD, that tasted something like I imagine drinking out of a toilet might although I hesitate to add that is only an estimate and not fact). This lasted until everyone was struggling to cope with the rule of needing a 3 or 4 to use the toilet and Stanbrook was sick after a fairly large drink from the middle bowl. This game was particularly useful for Smithy who has only just left his overdraft since his Dad's little top up and now has £10 to his name, though at the time really couldn't afford to be buying drinks from the pubs and clubs!
The downside of this was undeniably the fact it led to Smith being a wee bit drunk and possessing a fair amount of fire in his belly as we went out. It took him less than 5 minutes of our walk, after out impromptu stop for Naan bread, to decide he knew best and stroll off in completely the wrong direction. It took 3 people chasing him and Tom becoming the voice of reason to make him finally accept that he should walk the same way as the rest of us. And for those of you that know Tom you will understand that him being the voice of reason is about as likely as Steven Gerrard going an entire season in football without making a hypercritical comment about cheating, Frank Lampard winning mastermind or Michael Bublé winning a Mobo award. (Music of Black Origin)
The next unexpected event of the evening was a quick taxi trip home after our voice of calm and reason realised he'd left his ID behind... this was more the Tom we've grown to know and lo... accept ;)
The night out itself was fairly pleasant, visiting a few bars, sampling a few modern classic songs that can be 'Stanbrooked' to including Riverside, We No Speak Americano and Barbra Streisand.
NB. 'The Stanbrook' - Any dance that is danced by Ryan Stanbrook or in the style of Ryan Stanbrook based around excessive movement of the hips, a slightly perverted grin and most importantly a non-robotic robot.
The night ended slightly earlier than expected when Tom was politely told to leave the nightclub because he was too drunk, within the next hour the 6 of us made our way back to the house and were all in by half 2 in the morning, Tom was violently sick into our now broken and difficult to flush toilet and people gradually filed off to bed. Considering the time we all finally got to sleep it will come as no surprise that not everyone made all of their lectures the following day, as i left for my 10 o'clock seminar, Daly was still 'corpsed' out in bed next to the snoring fog-horn that was Tom, having supposed to have been in for 9 o'clock himself, and there was no sign of any movement from Smithy.
Carnage finally matched its definition when we met again the following lunchtime, as I made my way back from Uni the other 5 were tucking into a fried breakfast which we followed up with a quick stop in Ladbrokes that involved Tom taking great pleasure in his horse sneaking up from nowhere to beat Stanbrook's on the line, a funny moment all round that resulted in Ryan sinking onto the desktop in the bookies in a pose that might have suggested he'd gambled away his entire life, the reality being he'd put £3 on an outsider, but a loss is a loss so his pain is no less... After Ladbrokes though was when the weekend took a strange, perverse and yet hugely entertaining twist. I'm still unsure how the conversation came about but all i know is it resulted in us clubbing together £15 for the privilege of being able to watch and film Ryan eat a live goldfish... he swallowed it whole, happy in the knowledge he'd just created video evidence of the fact he should be sectioned immediately and resigned to the fact it would be appearing on the Internet within the day.
http://www.facebook.com/#!/video/video.php?v=10150311359320580
So what did I learn from this weekend?
- Lock your door or password protect your computer when there are people staying in your house
- Carnage really can be carnage if you want it to be
- Fish can be swallowed whole in a pretty similar fashion to paracetamol
- The Stanbrook really is a dance for all occasions
and that if you leave 5 bored people alone long enough they will cause destruction or some other creative mess with the help of a printer, some tape and a roll of tin foil!
The proper drinking started shortly after dinner and we got into a card game in which each card is represented by a rule... items had their name changed, people had their name changed and if anything was called by their real name this resulted in a forfeit drink and the whole thing was designed to get everyone very drunk very quickly... Abdul, King, The Daly twins, Tom and myself picked a lot of Tom's (cards), made a chicken noise (yep, a real chicken noise) before taking a chicken (drink) and if you picked the wrong Tom you had to take a drink out of the Smithy's a C**t (The bowl in the middle that was a rather putrid mix of various ciders, Jaeger, Lager and WKD, that tasted something like I imagine drinking out of a toilet might although I hesitate to add that is only an estimate and not fact). This lasted until everyone was struggling to cope with the rule of needing a 3 or 4 to use the toilet and Stanbrook was sick after a fairly large drink from the middle bowl. This game was particularly useful for Smithy who has only just left his overdraft since his Dad's little top up and now has £10 to his name, though at the time really couldn't afford to be buying drinks from the pubs and clubs!
The downside of this was undeniably the fact it led to Smith being a wee bit drunk and possessing a fair amount of fire in his belly as we went out. It took him less than 5 minutes of our walk, after out impromptu stop for Naan bread, to decide he knew best and stroll off in completely the wrong direction. It took 3 people chasing him and Tom becoming the voice of reason to make him finally accept that he should walk the same way as the rest of us. And for those of you that know Tom you will understand that him being the voice of reason is about as likely as Steven Gerrard going an entire season in football without making a hypercritical comment about cheating, Frank Lampard winning mastermind or Michael Bublé winning a Mobo award. (Music of Black Origin)
The next unexpected event of the evening was a quick taxi trip home after our voice of calm and reason realised he'd left his ID behind... this was more the Tom we've grown to know and lo... accept ;)
The night out itself was fairly pleasant, visiting a few bars, sampling a few modern classic songs that can be 'Stanbrooked' to including Riverside, We No Speak Americano and Barbra Streisand.
NB. 'The Stanbrook' - Any dance that is danced by Ryan Stanbrook or in the style of Ryan Stanbrook based around excessive movement of the hips, a slightly perverted grin and most importantly a non-robotic robot.
The night ended slightly earlier than expected when Tom was politely told to leave the nightclub because he was too drunk, within the next hour the 6 of us made our way back to the house and were all in by half 2 in the morning, Tom was violently sick into our now broken and difficult to flush toilet and people gradually filed off to bed. Considering the time we all finally got to sleep it will come as no surprise that not everyone made all of their lectures the following day, as i left for my 10 o'clock seminar, Daly was still 'corpsed' out in bed next to the snoring fog-horn that was Tom, having supposed to have been in for 9 o'clock himself, and there was no sign of any movement from Smithy.
Carnage finally matched its definition when we met again the following lunchtime, as I made my way back from Uni the other 5 were tucking into a fried breakfast which we followed up with a quick stop in Ladbrokes that involved Tom taking great pleasure in his horse sneaking up from nowhere to beat Stanbrook's on the line, a funny moment all round that resulted in Ryan sinking onto the desktop in the bookies in a pose that might have suggested he'd gambled away his entire life, the reality being he'd put £3 on an outsider, but a loss is a loss so his pain is no less... After Ladbrokes though was when the weekend took a strange, perverse and yet hugely entertaining twist. I'm still unsure how the conversation came about but all i know is it resulted in us clubbing together £15 for the privilege of being able to watch and film Ryan eat a live goldfish... he swallowed it whole, happy in the knowledge he'd just created video evidence of the fact he should be sectioned immediately and resigned to the fact it would be appearing on the Internet within the day.
http://www.facebook.com/#!/video/video.php?v=10150311359320580
So what did I learn from this weekend?
- Lock your door or password protect your computer when there are people staying in your house
- Carnage really can be carnage if you want it to be
- Fish can be swallowed whole in a pretty similar fashion to paracetamol
- The Stanbrook really is a dance for all occasions
and that if you leave 5 bored people alone long enough they will cause destruction or some other creative mess with the help of a printer, some tape and a roll of tin foil!
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
Procrastination, Smithy's betting and Skype Tom-Foolery!
Simple minds require only simple pleasures, never has a statement been as true as when describing what has kept me entertained this evening. Frankly I ought to be getting on with some work, but football, this blog and just about everything else has been more appealing so far. Between now and the 1st week of December I have 4 essays and 2 presentations to complete and all of the reading, research and work that comes with them, but instead of getting started I am writing this so whoever you are reading this, you better enjoy it!
Allow me to introduce you to the inner workings of Andy Smith's mind... This is a young man who is already in his overdraft, knows he has very little chance of winning big in Ladbrokes and often doesn't even try, and yet, he continues to pump upwards of a fiver a week into some of the most weird and wonderful accumulators ever to grace the earth, in the last week or so he has discovered the 'safety-net bet' where you are allowed to get 1 of your bets wrong and you still win a small amount of money. The result of this? A betting slip that cost him £4 won him 3.70odd and yet he still calls it a win. Bless him, he really is a tryer, but in the name of all that is holy he should GIVE UP!
Alex, known to most of you as Daly can sometimes be found talking to his girlfriend on Skype. This is obviously a bad move when Andy 'Safety-Net' Smith is around and he soon regretted leaving the laptop unattended. Even when myself and Alex were sat there with him Smithy continued to hold a picture of Alex to the web-cam in a rather pathetic attempt to convince the poor girl that was who she was talking to. God knows what she thought of it, all I know is it kept us 3 entertained for a good quarter of an hour and if it wasn't for his famously short attention span Smith would probably still be sat there now...
Must dash, more football to watch, more of Smithy's antics to laugh at and more procrastinating to do!
Allow me to introduce you to the inner workings of Andy Smith's mind... This is a young man who is already in his overdraft, knows he has very little chance of winning big in Ladbrokes and often doesn't even try, and yet, he continues to pump upwards of a fiver a week into some of the most weird and wonderful accumulators ever to grace the earth, in the last week or so he has discovered the 'safety-net bet' where you are allowed to get 1 of your bets wrong and you still win a small amount of money. The result of this? A betting slip that cost him £4 won him 3.70odd and yet he still calls it a win. Bless him, he really is a tryer, but in the name of all that is holy he should GIVE UP!
Alex, known to most of you as Daly can sometimes be found talking to his girlfriend on Skype. This is obviously a bad move when Andy 'Safety-Net' Smith is around and he soon regretted leaving the laptop unattended. Even when myself and Alex were sat there with him Smithy continued to hold a picture of Alex to the web-cam in a rather pathetic attempt to convince the poor girl that was who she was talking to. God knows what she thought of it, all I know is it kept us 3 entertained for a good quarter of an hour and if it wasn't for his famously short attention span Smith would probably still be sat there now...
Must dash, more football to watch, more of Smithy's antics to laugh at and more procrastinating to do!
Tuesday, 2 November 2010
The Sims - A life Comparison
Life at the moment is an awful lot like a particularly tiresome game of The Sims. If you don't really get the analogy bare with me a moment whilst I try to elaborate a bit. When playing The Sims you have to make sure you look after all of the members of whichever family you are controlling concurrently. This often leads to the most dysfunctional goings on possible with some of the characters living nocturnal lives, and this is often even before you consider getting them a job. If you have ever controlled a family that consisted of 2 or 3 kids at school and 2 parents with jobs you will know the feeling of struggle that is trying to keep them all healthy/happy and capable of going about their jobs/classes and this is what life feels like at the moment. Having to manage my eating, sleeping and day-to-day goings on alongside going to university, preparing for seminars and researching and writing essays is beginning to feel like a 5 person family on The Sims, meal times are strange, sleeping patterns are stranger and my performance academically may well struggle because my mood meter is in the red! The biggest failing of this analogy though is the fact I can't press Shift+CTRL+C Enter the word Motherlode and avoid the need to go to school or work for the rest of forever... It's a nice thought though right? I better buy a lottery ticket!
Monday, 1 November 2010
Richard and Smithy Destroy Fifa!
Nobody does Fifa quite like me and my house mate Andy Smith, and as all of you reading this known me you will also know who Andy is and that we are living together at Uni, but I will continue the charade anyway! Now Smithy lives on a different planet to most of us and you haven’t lived until you’ve played any type of game with him… He is determined that every Par 5 hole on Tiger Woods golf is greenable from the tee-shot… they’re not, He believes Carlos Tevez is cute and huggable and has nicknamed ‘Teddy’ and has developed an annoying habit of screaming WRITTEN IN THE STAAAAARRSSS and BARBRA STREISAAAANNDDDD at random moments throughout the day and night. So when he said he’d love to have a team on Fifa that allowed him to partner ‘Teddy’ with his other favourite players and I said this was possible, we set about ruining the game. The best two teams on the game are now Wolves and LA Galaxy, and anyone who knows anything about football or Fifa will know that this shouldn’t be the case and something is truly wrong… The result of this destruction of all of the good teams and theft of their players is that now we can only play with our two dream teams and every good team has been raped of it’s talent. I just fear the moment when an unsuspecting visitor goes to play with Chelsea and finds their 7 best players have gone missing and LA Galaxy have turned into a world super power overnight…
Sunday, 31 October 2010
A few days in the life…
Over the last few days I've gone about my life and kept to what is becoming a fairly normal routine. However since I've started writing this I've made a conscious effort to keep my eyes open and watch what's going on around me and hope it inspires something worth writing. Christ you see some strange behavior if you're looking out for it!
One thing I have noticed since moving down to Portsmouth is the people down there are so confrontational it's untrue. The drivers don't stop at zebra-crossings, everyone seems up for an argument, and even the elderly want to throw their diminishing weight around. In Brentwood it would be normal to have somebody approach you asking if they can take a chair from your table if it is not being used, in Portsmouth people just sit down at your table without asking if the seat is free. This has happened to me in a pub, in Sub-Way and even in Costa, and whilst I am getting used to it now, it still surprises and offends me that my status appears to be so low to these people that they can just come and invade unceremoniously. Oh well.
Another observation I've made during the last few days is of the way people behave on the London Underground and whilst travelling by train and around stations in general. Absolute Chaos. Even though I managed to avoid the rush that is inevitable at the beginning and end of the working day it was still busy as the underground tends to be, but this is no excuse for the lack of common sense on display. Some people stroll around as if nobody has anywhere to go and in all directions causing pile-ups of people as they decide whether they want to take the bakerloo or the jubilee line completely unaware of the dozens of people they're holding up as they stare aimlessly into the distance. At the other end of the scale there are the people who must get to their destination in the quickest possible way using the most direct route regardless of how many people they have to knock flying in the process. My own personal experience from travelling home on Friday all culminated in somebody saying 'excuse me' as she promptly shoved me out the way, what was the bloody point in saying excuse me if you didn't want me to move? It was at this point that I decided that we should introduced a common sense and consideration test that everyone has to pass before being allowed to travel on public transport, that would get rid of the day-dreamers, the dawdlers and the pushers and shovers out of the way and make using the trains so much more comfortable for those that are capable of doing so without ruining it for everyone else.
If ever you needed a reason not to take life too seriously…
A theory that has come in particularly handy over the last couple of years has been that life should never be taken too seriously for fear of giving yourself a headache! On Thursday I collected my first University assignment back after marking and I was asked if I was particularly pensive about getting my mark. The reality is the work had been handed in 3 weeks previously, wasn’t worth anything towards my final mark and was beyond my control by this point, so what would be the point in worrying then? I passed incidentally, as I was confident I would and I was proven right not to worry, but even if I hadn’t have passed, what advantage would I have got from panicking about it?
If ever I needed proof that I shouldn’t take myself to seriously it was the words of a friend 4 weeks ago that gave it to me…
“Every girl has a Taylor Swift song that they can relate to… What’s yours?” Well I would have been quite within my rights to point out that I am in fact not a girl, but I didn’t, I just answered the question because I felt like it at the time and despite the fact it could have made me look or feel silly to do so.
As well as the above incident there have been many, over the last year in particular that have suggested that I can’t be taken seriously so shouldn’t even bother to try. For example, whilst on a trip filming for my ill-fated Media video in the gardens of ST Pauls Cathedral, for reasons unknown even to me I thought I would shout “GERRARD!” before jumping over a bench and returning a ball to somebody on the other side of a fence. Whilst I probably don’t need to fill you in on what happened it still makes good reading so I will. I miss-judged the jump over the bench, got my foot caught and ended up flying over it parallel to the ground rather than feet first and landed with a series of inelegant combat roles, finishing up in a heap, it wasn’t particularly dignified but it was hilarious to those that saw me fly through the air and the end result, yet more people who will never be able to take me seriously, and another indication that I shouldn’t bother either!
Not being able to, or wanting to take myself or life to seriously is by no means a disadvantage though. If you don’t spend ages worrying about how you come across, how others perceive you and if you’re behaving in a way that is socially acceptable, you have more time to be yourself, do things you actually enjoy, have a laugh, and ultimately be a happier a person. It’s not full proof, but it’s worth a go!
If ever I needed proof that I shouldn’t take myself to seriously it was the words of a friend 4 weeks ago that gave it to me…
“Every girl has a Taylor Swift song that they can relate to… What’s yours?” Well I would have been quite within my rights to point out that I am in fact not a girl, but I didn’t, I just answered the question because I felt like it at the time and despite the fact it could have made me look or feel silly to do so.
As well as the above incident there have been many, over the last year in particular that have suggested that I can’t be taken seriously so shouldn’t even bother to try. For example, whilst on a trip filming for my ill-fated Media video in the gardens of ST Pauls Cathedral, for reasons unknown even to me I thought I would shout “GERRARD!” before jumping over a bench and returning a ball to somebody on the other side of a fence. Whilst I probably don’t need to fill you in on what happened it still makes good reading so I will. I miss-judged the jump over the bench, got my foot caught and ended up flying over it parallel to the ground rather than feet first and landed with a series of inelegant combat roles, finishing up in a heap, it wasn’t particularly dignified but it was hilarious to those that saw me fly through the air and the end result, yet more people who will never be able to take me seriously, and another indication that I shouldn’t bother either!
Not being able to, or wanting to take myself or life to seriously is by no means a disadvantage though. If you don’t spend ages worrying about how you come across, how others perceive you and if you’re behaving in a way that is socially acceptable, you have more time to be yourself, do things you actually enjoy, have a laugh, and ultimately be a happier a person. It’s not full proof, but it’s worth a go!
Wednesday, 27 October 2010
A Stressful Move..
As promised in the first post I am a champion moaner and there is nothing I do better than describe how the world has chosen to conspire against me on that particular day. I will now attempt to describe my move into a new house and a new type of life as I have begun University in this unique style of mine!
When making the decision to move away from home everyone is pre-warned that it will take a lot of getting used to and it’s a major upheaval and that it may seem very strange at first… Well the people handing out these warnings weren’t kidding were they! One minute I’m happily living at home, 2-3 meals a day provided, a comfortable surrounding and a quiet and peaceful life, and the next I’m in a house 2 hours down the road with the job of getting myself up and to University on time, keeping myself tidy, looking after my own medication, feeding myself, and many more things that frankly take time I never seem to have, and whilst I’m living with 2 of my friends that I have known since school, 1 of them is a certified maniac which isn’t exactly great for someone who’s used to the quiet life and a lot of peace.
So settling in was always going to be a bit of a challenge even before the tide turned and everything started to go wrong… Mid-way through our first week of living in our new home we lost all hot water and central heating, my printer was blankly refusing to communicate with my computer, the microwave and kettle were unusable, we found the oven to be about as powerful as a Joe McElderry punch and the washing machine seemed determined to make everything fluffier and dirtier than before we put the clothes in it. The next thing on the list of what refused to work was our wireless broadband… We’re paying for 20MB download speed and for the first month we were getting less than 1MB. Now I’m no expert but I’m fairly confident that’s not up to scratch because there’s a fair difference between 1 and 20 whichever way you look at it.
Of late my television has also stopped working properly, the fridge has started sinking into the kitchen floor due to what could be a mouldy floor-board or the gateway to another dimension, we still have a broken radiator despite the new boiler and running hot water after a 2 week absence, the light chord in the bathroom is looking rather miserable as it hangs by its last thread, and Smith has had to invent some kind of special technique similar to a secret handshake to close his window as and when he needs to.
Most recently, up to and including today, things are starting to look a bit brighter, even in the gloomy place that I inhabit, I have devised a system for taking home as much of my washing as possible, a new telly is on the way, Smith and his window are getting by and the light chord is still hanging on for dear life bless it. Between us we’ve come up with a theory about using the oven that goes something like ‘double the time on the pack’ or ‘just stick it on full power’ and the fridge hasn’t quite done a Rose Tyler and disappeared off to a parallel world yet, which is fortunate as the eggs run out tomorrow and I have no idea when it might get back. The Broadband is particularly pleasing though as a combination of moaning to the tech department and a new signal boosting aerial have got our download speed up to an impressive point, so as promised Michael… Fair play Virgin Media, you haven’t done too badly this time.
Now the fact I’ve started talking positively is definitely a sign to call it a night before an outbreak of cheerfulness spoils my current mood!
When making the decision to move away from home everyone is pre-warned that it will take a lot of getting used to and it’s a major upheaval and that it may seem very strange at first… Well the people handing out these warnings weren’t kidding were they! One minute I’m happily living at home, 2-3 meals a day provided, a comfortable surrounding and a quiet and peaceful life, and the next I’m in a house 2 hours down the road with the job of getting myself up and to University on time, keeping myself tidy, looking after my own medication, feeding myself, and many more things that frankly take time I never seem to have, and whilst I’m living with 2 of my friends that I have known since school, 1 of them is a certified maniac which isn’t exactly great for someone who’s used to the quiet life and a lot of peace.
So settling in was always going to be a bit of a challenge even before the tide turned and everything started to go wrong… Mid-way through our first week of living in our new home we lost all hot water and central heating, my printer was blankly refusing to communicate with my computer, the microwave and kettle were unusable, we found the oven to be about as powerful as a Joe McElderry punch and the washing machine seemed determined to make everything fluffier and dirtier than before we put the clothes in it. The next thing on the list of what refused to work was our wireless broadband… We’re paying for 20MB download speed and for the first month we were getting less than 1MB. Now I’m no expert but I’m fairly confident that’s not up to scratch because there’s a fair difference between 1 and 20 whichever way you look at it.
Of late my television has also stopped working properly, the fridge has started sinking into the kitchen floor due to what could be a mouldy floor-board or the gateway to another dimension, we still have a broken radiator despite the new boiler and running hot water after a 2 week absence, the light chord in the bathroom is looking rather miserable as it hangs by its last thread, and Smith has had to invent some kind of special technique similar to a secret handshake to close his window as and when he needs to.
Most recently, up to and including today, things are starting to look a bit brighter, even in the gloomy place that I inhabit, I have devised a system for taking home as much of my washing as possible, a new telly is on the way, Smith and his window are getting by and the light chord is still hanging on for dear life bless it. Between us we’ve come up with a theory about using the oven that goes something like ‘double the time on the pack’ or ‘just stick it on full power’ and the fridge hasn’t quite done a Rose Tyler and disappeared off to a parallel world yet, which is fortunate as the eggs run out tomorrow and I have no idea when it might get back. The Broadband is particularly pleasing though as a combination of moaning to the tech department and a new signal boosting aerial have got our download speed up to an impressive point, so as promised Michael… Fair play Virgin Media, you haven’t done too badly this time.
Now the fact I’ve started talking positively is definitely a sign to call it a night before an outbreak of cheerfulness spoils my current mood!
My Media Studies Blog
As mentioned in my first post, here is a link to my old blog.
http://bchsa2richard.blogspot.com/
Here you can find my Media Studies work for last year and the log book that contains that rants that prompted this new blogs format!
http://bchsa2richard.blogspot.com/
Here you can find my Media Studies work for last year and the log book that contains that rants that prompted this new blogs format!
An Experiment..
This is to be the start of an experiment I devised about 20 minutes ago whilst procrastinating spectacularly over a cup of tea in Starbucks. I got to wondering whether anyone actually cares what I think and if I started writing, would anybody bother to read what I put?
My blogging history is a basic one at best and can be best described as a few uncoordinated rants whilst attempting to log my work during my A Level Media Studies coursework. If you're bored or feeling down then I suggest you read some of the longer posts on it just so you can enjoy my pain even if you achieve nothing else. Since directionless ranting is what I do best and I love a good moan, that'll probably be the format of these blogs...
Who Am I?
I thought this might be as good a starting point as any, and should give you an indication as to whether you should bother reading on or not. I am Richard, I'm 18 and I'm from Essex, and if you've had the misfortune of watching the TV programme, I live about a quarter of an hour from The Sugar Hut night club that the shameful bunch frequent. I currently however live in Portsmouth as I've just started University there on a History course. I chose History because I find it more interesting and easier to get into than English and both would allow me to write huge chunks of text and give my opinions on things... What could be better for me?
If the fact I'm from Essex hasn't got me enough hate, I am also a Man United fan, and whilst I go to see them play if and when it's possible it isn't that often and I get the general abuse for glory hunting and not supporting my local team. The reality is simple, my dad is a Man United fan and football teams are hereditary and infectious... And to anyone who calls me a glory hunter my response is simple, I'd rather hunt glory than failure.
As well as a love of football I'm into cricket, tennis and various other sports too and once I get into a sport or hobby I like to do it properly and obsess over it for a while by watching and playing it religiously. My latest interest is Golf. I bought Tiger Woods PGA Tour for the PS3 and have since made it my goal to become an expert on the sport, I intend to start playing myself at some point but it remains to be seen how well that goes.
Myself and my friends are notorious for our strange and confusing 'in-jokes' that always take a lot of explaining when my mum or another outside takes an interest, when playing a round of Golf on Tiger Woods for instance it would seem that me and my friend Tom were speaking an entirely different language to any confused onlookers and it is similar in any of our regular activities. Phrases such as "Alright Barely", "Renewed your membership?" and "Excuse me mister Prime Minister..." make perfect sense to us but it's doubtful anyone else would consider this normal behaviour, likewise the fact we often tell each other to BUNT!, regardless of the fact this word was popular about 5 years ago with the 'in' kids in our year and hasn't been used since. BY ANYONE.
I have developed the nickname Richmunk over the last year or so and this appears to have stuck now due to my inexplicable decision to mimic and do impressions of Chipmunks Oopsy Daisy in the common room and Media lessons in particular. That is however not the extent of my music tastes and I have a borderline obsession with Taylor Swift as well as an admiration for the God that is Michael Bublé. I saw the latter with a friend earlier this month and will be seeing the former in March of next year and it would be fair to say I'm a bit excited.
I think that's enough to be getting on with as if anyone has bothered to read this I won't be able to keep your attention for ever so better quit before I fall too far behind...
My blogging history is a basic one at best and can be best described as a few uncoordinated rants whilst attempting to log my work during my A Level Media Studies coursework. If you're bored or feeling down then I suggest you read some of the longer posts on it just so you can enjoy my pain even if you achieve nothing else. Since directionless ranting is what I do best and I love a good moan, that'll probably be the format of these blogs...
Who Am I?
I thought this might be as good a starting point as any, and should give you an indication as to whether you should bother reading on or not. I am Richard, I'm 18 and I'm from Essex, and if you've had the misfortune of watching the TV programme, I live about a quarter of an hour from The Sugar Hut night club that the shameful bunch frequent. I currently however live in Portsmouth as I've just started University there on a History course. I chose History because I find it more interesting and easier to get into than English and both would allow me to write huge chunks of text and give my opinions on things... What could be better for me?
If the fact I'm from Essex hasn't got me enough hate, I am also a Man United fan, and whilst I go to see them play if and when it's possible it isn't that often and I get the general abuse for glory hunting and not supporting my local team. The reality is simple, my dad is a Man United fan and football teams are hereditary and infectious... And to anyone who calls me a glory hunter my response is simple, I'd rather hunt glory than failure.
As well as a love of football I'm into cricket, tennis and various other sports too and once I get into a sport or hobby I like to do it properly and obsess over it for a while by watching and playing it religiously. My latest interest is Golf. I bought Tiger Woods PGA Tour for the PS3 and have since made it my goal to become an expert on the sport, I intend to start playing myself at some point but it remains to be seen how well that goes.
Myself and my friends are notorious for our strange and confusing 'in-jokes' that always take a lot of explaining when my mum or another outside takes an interest, when playing a round of Golf on Tiger Woods for instance it would seem that me and my friend Tom were speaking an entirely different language to any confused onlookers and it is similar in any of our regular activities. Phrases such as "Alright Barely", "Renewed your membership?" and "Excuse me mister Prime Minister..." make perfect sense to us but it's doubtful anyone else would consider this normal behaviour, likewise the fact we often tell each other to BUNT!, regardless of the fact this word was popular about 5 years ago with the 'in' kids in our year and hasn't been used since. BY ANYONE.
I have developed the nickname Richmunk over the last year or so and this appears to have stuck now due to my inexplicable decision to mimic and do impressions of Chipmunks Oopsy Daisy in the common room and Media lessons in particular. That is however not the extent of my music tastes and I have a borderline obsession with Taylor Swift as well as an admiration for the God that is Michael Bublé. I saw the latter with a friend earlier this month and will be seeing the former in March of next year and it would be fair to say I'm a bit excited.
I think that's enough to be getting on with as if anyone has bothered to read this I won't be able to keep your attention for ever so better quit before I fall too far behind...
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