Street City Silence

So today was a very... erm, British day? Not quite, but just about. Woke up a bit late at around 11ish and just messed about for an hour. Then I watched Liverpool beat Man Utd in the FA Cup (with Tom, one of my flatmates, who's a Liverpool supporter). After that I retreated to my room and just listened to music and... erm... played Footy Manager (yes, I'm hooked again, damn it!). I was planning on watching the Newcastle Utd vs. Southampton match here in my flat because I didn't really fancy going out, but Steve rang me up and persuaded me to go down to the pub to watch it (because of the atmosphere, etc). So yeah, we go... we have quite a few drinks, Newcastle win so it's all good (nothing better than to watch a Newcastle match at the pub... it's really crazy) and then we head to another pub, Steve's favourite (I think he always goes there because the girl he likes works there... but she likes his flatmate, but that doesn't matter, apparently) so we have a few more drinks and we're a bit "unfocused" as neither of us had anything to eat in recent times, and we're trying to plan something for tonight. I wanted to go out to Bulletproof just because I felt like it, and Steve said he'd go, but he needed to grab a bite. So we ask for takaway (whilst walking back home) and I make myself some chips. I don't know what happens next, but eventually we run out of time to go out (cheaply, anyway... after 11 it's double the price) so I decide to call it a night, seeing I'm feeling very very heavy. I don't know what's the point of all this, really... I guess that you should never plan or cook while drunk (oh, yeah, I burnt myself quite a few times while cooking the chips). Damn alcohol.


Special thanks to Erc for reading most of my entries, and laughing while at it (or at least in his mind). And, btw, having a gf should encourage you to go to the dance thing... yep, public communication continues

Eventful

So this morning I woke up quite early, by normal standards. I woke up around an hour and a half before my lecture at 9 am. So well, I take a quick shower and I still have about an hour and ten minutes to kill before I leave. So I start to do something (I'm still not sure what it was that I did that killed so much time) and the next time I see the clock it's twenty to nine. Ohh, not good, especially when I haven't had breakfast. So I make myself what should've been a quick breakfast (but, of course, wasn't because I was in a hurry) consisting of a sandwich of bacon and sausage. When I finish shoving it down my throat not only do I have a stomach ache, but it's 9:00 am.

Crap, so I gather my stuff (which I had organised while the food was in the making) and skip to my lecture (lol, okay, I sped-walked) and after a tiring 9 minutes, I get there. I don't know why it took me so long, actually, because I've made it in 5 minutes before... I guess it was my stomach aching that slowed me down. Anyway, when I go in the lecture theatre, I expect the class to be well underway, but instead there's no professor. Hmm... interesting. I ask some of my classmates what's going on, and they tell me that he's late. How convenient, eh? So he is late, indeed, and arrives 4 minutes later. So I pretty much rushed for nothing, because had I taken my time (eaten the sandwich a bit slower and walked a bit slower (if that was possible)) then I would've gotten there around the same time as the professor... and he had to set up his stuff, so I would've had well enough time. Oh, why me?

Later on I had my programming lecture. Have I mentioned that I feel suicidal during that lecture? Seriously, I feel like slitting my wrist with the coursenotes. I'm serious... anyway, she was explaining some different stuff (yeah, I wasn't paying much attention... but then, doesn't really matter because you know she's just going to explain it again later on... she gets a kick out of over-explaining things, it seems) and all of a sudden she comes to a small thing on the Java environment. It's this gray cylinder-like thing that's on the main window. When a program is running, it changes colour to red a white, and, according to her, it "vibrates." I'll be damned if it was, how would she know that? So she goes on to explain why it does so (which we, of course, know already, but well...) and she keeps on telling us it "vibrates." I'm quite confused at that time, not to mention disturbed, but then it hits me: ah, she means it "rotates"... that's much better. So, in conclusion, se tiro una Dutch.

I actually had a lot to do today. It is perhaps my busiest of days, probably tied with Monday (yeah, Monday and Fridays are full days and in the midweek I have almost no lectures), and I have to go to lectures, make up answers for my business seminar, and write an essay for a computing course... due that day. Yes, I know, I know... I've known for 7 days but I left it until the last moment... but I wasn't sure what to do, so I just kept putting it off until I couldn't anymore. So well, I make up the answers (well, think about them) during the programming lecture (as usual, I now use that as my "free period"... sort of) so the only immediate thing for me to do is the essay. So well, the sensible thing to do would've been to go to the cluster room and write it right away, as I was less than a minute away from them. But I had to crap. And I didn't want to crap in a uni toilet. And I had to finish the essay. But, according to Maslow, I can't work unless my physiological needs are met, one of those being crapping. So I walked home, took a crap, and then returned to the cluster room. Seriously, that's what I did. Wasn't the best crap I've ever had, but at least I know I haven't contracted some weird disease... well, I might've, but at least I know who to blame. Finch, anyone?

So I do finish the essay on time, worst piece of writing I've ever done, and most boring as well. I submit it and I'm a free man for a while! So I got back to my flat and celebrate by making myself some food. After that I watch some telly and Ryan comes out so we just talk shite about people and watch telly... and then I notice this water gun (more like machine gun) that's lying in the floor. I decide to test it. In my best shot, I was able to hit the window of the other flat in front of us (that's about 12 yards away? I'm shite with measurements... but well, it was flat A, but since Richardson Road has a very odd design we are able to see through their window, and them ours... and we can also see through pretty much evey "odd" flat window). Cool stuff. I feel like wetting someone, but whom? Ah, then I hear Steve come out, so I rush to get the gun, open the window and fire. But by that time, he had gotten to far away and I only hit part of his shoe. Oh well. We watch the telly again. Then I hear him say something about the lines of "Jimmy's a fag!" so I rush again and try to hit him, but this time through the hall of the building. He was too fast, so I don't think I got much of him. Oh well.

After a while he appears on his window and gives me the finger, so I threaten to shoot him from there (I probably would've been able to hit him, but his window was closed...). He gives me the finger again and disappears. After a short while, there's a knock on our door, so I look outside and it's Steve, hiding to the left. So I get the gun, and open the door with a coñazo and shoot at him. But I feel this cold wave hit me on the side of my face. Very cold! The bitch had a glass of water, and he completely wetted me! I'm pretty much knocked out for the next three seconds while I realise what's happened, but then I start going after him. I hit him a couple of times, but I don't wet him nearly as much as he wet me. The bastard. So once he goes in his flat I give up. I'm wet and it's cold, so I better retreat before I get a cold.

I'm on my way to get changed, when I mis-step (yep, second time in two days) and hit my right ankle (that's the bad one) with the side of the rock-hard wooden chair. That shite hurt like hell. And it still does. So I blame Steve for that. I'll get him back when he least expects it... in a month's time, maybe. I'll keep you posted. Btw, that's a shite title, innit?

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

So, like I've said in previous entries (probably said, can't really remember), Thursday is my favourite day of the week. Well, working day, anyway. Why's that? Well, for starters I don't have programming, so that just makes me feel a whole lot more jolly (how gay am I?). Aside from that, though, my first lecture is at 2pm, which gives me the whole morning and part of the afternoon to sleep in (if I've gone out) or to do something productive (lol!). As if that weren't enough, my last lecture of the day is at 3, so that means that I have a somewhat short day (I only have one shorter day)! Brilliant! Oh, and did I mention I didn't have programming...?

I can't say I did much today, because, as explained above, I do fuck all on Thursdays (yep, that's the concise description of my Thursdays). I did go to town to check out some stuff, but nothing exciting there. The only remarkable event was when I was rushing from IT to Marketing and I had my earphones hanging from my collar (inside out... you know what I mean) and I mis-stepped making a quick turn and they started to swing from side to side incontrolably, and they got longer and longer... until the point that they slapped a girl on the back of the neck. She turned around all confused, and all I could do was respond with a quick embarrased "... sorry!" and move on.

And for old time's sake, Erc, do you remember the noise the monks made in Age of Empires I? A certain "ñiqui ñiqui ñiqui"... I remembered that yesterday for some reason, and started doing it to my mates and all I can say is that they seemed a bit confused. Oh, well, at least now I know that they've converted to my side even more.

To my boys in Vzla

So I want to start out by saying that I miss my boys "back home." The reason why it's in quotes is because they're not really all back home, some of them have left... but they're my friends from back home, so well... you get it.

I read the Karo thing (as Calabria told me to) and I picked up on another really true thing. Yes, Calabria does tend to overuse ellipses, but it's also true that us boys really fuck around with our mates. I'm pretty sure I've treated Tiny worse than anybody else has ever dreamed of, and that I've been more cruel to Calabria than anybody else and made fun of Rod more than most people. I haven't really been mean or anything with Erc, we just usually verbally slack each other off. Anybody else, I don't do those things, maybe criticise them, but that's about it. Like someone said, if you can't punch your best friend in the face, then who can you punch? Same thing with my guys here in Newcastle. In general I'm a quiet guy, minding my own business and occassionally cracking a joke, but with my mates I'm loud, mean, and a total bastard (as they will testify)... and they are mean and bastards back to me. It all works out!

Having said that, it's time to do some bashing. I don't know if you've read Tiny's new blog (I know Cal has... have you, Erc?), but it's quite a read. Not because he has much to say, but because it's amusing how he puts his sentences together. It almost sounds like he's talking (it's the same thing with me, really... but well, I'll leave it at that). I seriously recommend a look if you haven't seen it yet. Visit Tiny's blog! For those of you who don't know me and that have gotten to know me through my blogs (anyone???) you will have also gotten to know Tiny... and you'll know that he's been one of the primary targets of my jokes. Now you can see it for yourself!

Today I noticed that I had some spiderwebs in the corners of my window. That could've been the effect of leaving my window open during the night for ventilation. You have no idea how petrified I was when I saw them. Not because they ruined the overall decoration of my room, but because that means that--yes, you guessed it--a spider had to be in my room in order to make them. What's slightly more worrying is that it's not there with the web, which can only mean that it's roaming somewhere in my room or... I've swallowed it in my sleep! Fuck me! I'm not sure which one's worse! :(

Btw, I just want you guys to know (well, Erc to know) that I do read the comments that are left, and I try to do my best to reply to them within an entry--that is, if they're not "go for the girl!" or "do her!".

I posted some pictures that have been taken here in Newcastle. Only two occassions, though: the Newcastle Utd. vs Arsenal match and the Darkness concert. They're good pics, but I didn't take them myself so they're not as good as they could've been (arrogance, anyone?). Check them out at http://spaces.msn.com/thebetrayal . Yes, I have sold my soul to the devil, but hey, wouldn't you? It's just easier to post pics there, that's all. I'll always write in the Black Star.

Best of You

So first of all I'd like to wish a happy Valentine's Day (the most useless of days) to all those people out there with a loved partner (notably Cal and Erc). Had it not been for bad luck I could've been having my own little Valentine's celebration, but well... it's me.

I have adopted this new trend (one that I set yesterday) of walking around with only a t-shirt. The past days have been really nice, averaging 9 degrees, with the high being 10 and the low 8 (wow, I am good in math!). This is warm, despite what many of you might think (Erc and Rod will agree with me), so I figured I might make the most of it. I went to the gig yesterday without a coat (that was about an hour and a half return walk) and to my lectures today without a coat. Yep, I'm nuts. I can expect the cold to hit me sometimes soon.

I got one of my exam results back today: my programming exam. I thought I had completely fucked this exam, mostly because in the code-writing part I just wrote what I thought was right and didn't even proofread... not because I didn't want to, but because I had no time. Everyone I talked to agreed that it was a very hard exam. So yeah, I was very concerned about it, especially since I'm known for those stupid mistakes. Things didn't improve when today I was asked what my exam result was. I didn't know, I had no clue that they were up. I later run into a bloke from my course and he asks me what my result was and I again tell him that I don't know. He goes on to tell me how he found out yesterday, and he found out because there were loads of guys crying and running around in the clusters because they had failed the exam. That didn't help. So I come back to the flat and do a bit of web surfing until I decide it is time. I check and it turns out the I A'ced the exam (didn't get a 100, but I got an A). So much worrying for nothing. So now I'm in a good spirit, which is why I've written so much today (those of you who know my technique will understand what I'm on about). Hooray! (Hey, that should've been the title for this entry, not the last one... oh, and just so you see how good I am, I just noticed that the entry "The Brown Bomber" actually makes sense... because you see, Steve's last name is Brown and he totally bombed that night... and I didn't even notice, genius!!)

In other news, I saw a thing of Vaseline in a girl's purse today during my marketing lecture. What it was doing there I don't know (and don't think bad of me, it's not like I was purposfully looking into girl's purses, it just happened to be so blatantly obvious that I had to look), but now I understand why girls don't let you look into their purse. I wonder what else they carry... (yes, you know where I'm going with this)

Hooray!

So today was quite an eventful day. Mostly because of one big event, but still eventful.

I'll start out with the morning. So we were at the clusters during our practicals for one of our modules, and we were basically working our our coursework (at least that's what I think we were doing... I wasn't aware of any other instructions). At the end of the period, ie an hour, we all start to leave and one of the guys from my course asks me if I've managed to get along with the coursework. I say I have, that I've finished it, only that I have to re-upload it to the other server because the validation wanted to screw me so I had to change some things. He asks me if he can look at it and I agree (seeing he can't really copy this... and if he does then he'd be well stupid to do so because... well, you just can't copy it) and he seems well impressed, even though it's nothing from the other world. In fact, it's not my best effort, but it meets all the criteria and I can't be bothered to work on it any further (yeah, that'll get me through life, wont' it?) and then he calls out to another guy: "Hey, James seems to have managed it... he's got everything, pictures and all!" and the bloke calls back "Of course, he's James!" and at that moment I didn't know if to feel complimented or insulted. Probably a bit of both. It couldn't've been too bad as they're "mates" of mine, but it did carry at least a tad of malice.

In the next lecture (as in next module's lecture.. the lecture following the practical happened to be for the same module as the practical) we take a personality test (don't ask how this has to do with technology... well, it does to some extent, but well, whatever, nevermind) and--surprise surprise--I find out that I'm a cold hard bitch. Thinks just keep on getting better.

I skip my programming lecture, first lecture so far this academic year that I miss. Felt great, mostly because I wasn't contemplating killing myself like I usually do at the lecture.

So this was the big night when we got to watch the Darkness (that's part of the reason why we missed the programming lecture... we didn't really have to, but we thought it would help us go into the gig with a positive state of mind). Great gig. And things started to happen even before the show started.

There was this 80's song, where the female singer repeated over and over "when I think about you I touch myself"... intriguing. Me too, darling, me too. Anyway, right before the concert was due to commence, there was an announcement that went along the lines of if something goes wrong and there's a fire or something, the exits are here and there and yada yada yada... "and, should there be an emergency, the show will stop." Well, no shit, Sherlock! I would've thought that if there were to be a fire the first people out of there would've been the band... it's not like in the Titanic where the band played on...

So like I said, the show was really good, very Kiss-y (lots of fire, explosions, eccentricism, lights... did I mention explosions and fire?) and very entertaining. At the beginning Justin Hawkins, the lead singer, came out in a huge pair of boobs and made all kinds of derrogatory comments about tits and shit (lol)... talking about boobs, there was a girl about four people across from me who was on her boyfriend's shoulders... flashing the band... and the crowd. She didn't actually take her bra off, but damn, she didn't need to. Exquisite. I wouldn't've complained if she had taken the bra off, though.

There was also a part (during the last encore) where the lead singer (he's also the lead guitarist) came out attached in this weird thing, floating around the crowd, doing summersaults while playing an extended guitar solo. There was a point when he was only four feet from me (above me). I was hoping and hoping that he'd drop the guitar... but then I was glad he didn't. As my mates later explained, had that happened I either would've been knocked out by the guitar, or had I caught it I would've been knocked out by the hundreds of people jumping on me to get it (including them).

There was also a point where he tried to take his shirt off, but he couldn't. And when I mean he couldn't I mean he got stuck halfway while taking it off. He ran from side to side trying to take it off but nothing. Then he tried to rip it and he couldn't. Finally it gave up and it ripped, midway through the song. After the song he commented "that's the dictionary definition for 'wardrope malfunction... bloody hell!'." Very true, indeed, and amazingly hilarious. We might've not packed the house (Newcastle was the show in their UK tour that sold the less tickets... hopefully that's not true in the world tour) and we might've not experienced the most flawless of shows... but all the little things that went wrong made it priceless, something you won't be able to see on the DVD when it comes out.

King Jeremy

So this is post number 110, which means that I've been really dedicated to this blog... and I can clearly claim having more than one hundred posts (when it's not 101, as Americans would put it... Calabria understands). That is a shame, though, because I don't have much to write about.

Yesterday I spent most of the day at the pub with Steve, watching the Man Utd match and then Chelski lose 3-0 to Middlesbrough (sweet!) and playing pool and darts in the breaks... and of course, having a few pints. A very British day, some would say. Steve got dared by a girl to play darts with her for money. He finally gave in and he won (because she was drunk) and she got his number. Turns out she called him today. Ah, drunken darts.

Today I stayed in to get some work done for a change. Then went out to a Chinese buffet with Steve and got stuffed, so much I'm gonna go drop a huge log when I'm done writing this entry. I haven't seen Ryan for two days... and we live in the same flat. What are the odds?

So well, I guess that's it. Tomorrow I get to watch The Darkness, which I'm really excited about. Not only do I get to watch them, but I get to skip my programming lecture. I think I'm happier I'm skipping than because I'm watching them, to be honest. Oh, well, it will be good... there won't be any kids falling on their heads, but this time the music will be good.