A petal is smart but the buds wiser

I used to be Japanese until Kodak fired me...

Welcome back my little stalkers!  That's all you are essentially.  You follow me, finding out little facts about my life and just hoping to get some incriminating gossip to sell to the papers.  I'm not falling for that again, not after my phone got hacked!  Mind you this blog has got to 8 new countries since my last post so it's not like I need the publicity anyway.  ONTO BLOG HEAVEN....

Right so I've moved out of Bournemouth.  Spent a couple of days doing some hardcore cleaning.  Some of you are unaware of how cleaning works so let me explain it in a mathematical equation.  1 House minus dirt which was added and is now multiplying bacteria equals xy (clean house)  and the division of labour between the factors involed means 1 is subtracting the root of weeds and the other is ensuring there is no pi stains on the carpet and that the house is in the standing up position...or the RIGHT angle.  Simple really.  My enchantment of a Mother came to help... I say help, I mean more like save us.  We packed all my stuff in the car; tv, clothes, map of middle earth, girlfriend and my collection of Norwegian egg cups.  Unfortunately I couldnt fit in the car though, and my Mum still doesn't think I'm old enough to ride in the glovebox so I had to catch the coach to London.  Couldn't be bothered waiting for a connecting bus back to my house, so I ordered a strategic human transportation device...or taxi as the Scotsmen call them.

There are too many fat people annoying me.  Fat people annoy me in general simply because their bellow lungs consume twice as much oxygen as mine but they don't pay any extra.  I'm not talking about people who are just a little larger than others, I'm talking about the Jupiters of the human solar system.  Lately they've really been bugging me.  Some annoy me on the escalators at the tube stations.  They say stand on the right to let people walking up the steps pass on the left, this doesnt apply to the flub brigade though as they not only take up the whole width of the walkway but also droop over 3 steps so no matter where I stand, their chub is still in mace face.  Then it's rush hour and their bloated wisdom takes up half the bloody carriage on the train.  Pointless having a section for elderly and disabled people to sit when Shamoo has declared his own section.  Thusforth I have devised a step by step guide to help our lard enriched brothers live a healthy life without fear of being harpooned...

1. Buy a hammock, all podgy peeps like a hammock.  But replace the netting with cheese wire so that chunks of flub with just fall through it.  Kind of like an industrial sieve.
2. Confiscate all mobile phones from the butter bellies and replace them with morse code transmitters.  They may be ordering pizza but the constant tapping will cause them to lose weight in their index fingers in days.
3. Remove all calendars from their houses.  If Chub Norris hasn't got his eye set on Christmas Dinner, he might decide to stop practising for it.
4. Try my new invention.  It's a mirror which enhances Fatorexia™.  A gibbly gump who looks into the mirror will see a skinny good looking version of themselves.  This causes them to go into Fatolemia™ where they purge all their gastric gunk out to leave them with the body of a Greek god.

So there you go, my comprehensive, handy dandy guide to weight loss.  I hope people dont start stealing gates or taking offence (little joke there).  It's not mean, it's true, and if you don't like it, then go back to looking up techniques on how to free your belly from being trapped under the table you're sat at.

So there you go buddys.  So mildly insulting trivia for you to feast on, but not too much now or you'll need to take that step by step guide yourself.  Catch you soon chickadees

The city life begins!!!

Left: My sister.  Right: My girl. Centre: Blog Hero!

 

Now it may have been a while since my last blog and I do apologise, but I know you haven't forgotten about me have you?  Of course not, infact this blog has hit 4 more countries since my last post so I know you've all done your duty and spread this faster than cholera through a mining community.  But enough about disease and death, I'M FINALLY IN LONDON!  I'm well into my fourth week of my work placement and I'm loving it.  I wish I could tell you all about it....and I will.

Right chums.  So I moved to Oxford for 1 week, it was originally going to be a month, then 2 weeks and then they decided it would just be a week but that's fine.  I stayed in a house supplied by the company with the other interns, I felt like I was on the apprentice, living with the other candidates (except without the hate, deceit and free food).  I got to grips with the work and started to bond with my co-workers.  I say 'bond', more like work my magic of annoyance to ensure that when I'm gone that they'll remember me by being "that irritating little twerp who wouldn't shut the hell up".  I did it at uni, I did it at the co-op and now the wonder of David Honour the 4th has come to shake stuff up in my new workplace.  After the second week, they had a night out for the staff.  Totally immense.  We went up the Thames on a private boat with free bar, food and DJ.  Follow that up with heavy drinking and trademark dancing to Shakira in a club along with some decent winning at the casino and I think you'll agree that it was a brilliant start to my career.  When they looked at my CV, I'm sure that it was the section within my qualities entitled "Ability to dance like an epileptic grasshopper" that won them over. 

The work itself is also good fun, but it's the bits around the work that are best.  Such as the opportunities I get to wind up my manager.  I may be subbordinate, but I'm still a cheeky little devil with way too much enthusiasm considering I wake up at 6:30am to get there and the first thing I do is say something ingenious like "Remember, you don't have to be a farmer to be outstanding in your own field".  I think it's suitable that a co-worker has dubbed me 'Head of Motivation'.  What I lack in height, I make up for in annoyance, energy and of course good looks - it's all good for morale.  However, I have set out some targets for the year whilst I am working there, I'm sure you'd like to hear them.  WELL TOUGH!! I need to go to the toilet first.................................................................................................................................................................................................. Ok I'm back, thank you for waiting.  Right so my targets for the year are as follows;

1. Become an alcoholic - If the people on the tube look and sound like they spend most of their time licking the pavement for a source of food after spending all their money on Lambrini then I'd like to blend in.
2. Install a new computer system - Not to replace the current one, but so we can all have an extra computer to punch when our normal one messes up.
3. Persuade my manager to introduce a show & tell day - I for one would be interested to see the designs of everyone elses toothbrushes one week.
4. Invest in the stock market - Looking at the NASDAQ in the current climate against the current rate of 10234.43 means that stock should be bought against the HANG SENG for 3532.59.  I haven't a clue but it sounds so cool when you say it.

 You may also be interested to know that it is officially goodbye Bournemouth after this weekend.  Heading back there Friday night to sort the house out before moving everything up here on Sunday.  A lot of things need doing such as the removal of road signs and traffic control barriers from our garden, re-attaching doors to their frames and putting the roof back on.  The place needs a lot of work, think I may place an ad in the local paper for assistance "Bournemouth Council - If you want your road signs back, get round to my house and get it not only spick but more importantly span!"  That should do the trick.  If all else fails then I'm going to have to use the good old fashioned elbow grease (which isn't a type of cooking oil as I found out in the burns unit of Bournemouth hospital).  If anybody wants to lend a helping hand then that would be greatly appreciated, but it must be a helping hand, I don't want anyone lending a do-nothing hand!  Infact, all hands will be inspected to deduce helpfulness upon entry to my house.  Sort it out.

Well there you go buddys!  The blog is back.  I can't promise that I will back to my normal routine of 2 per week as this job is actually...work now!  Not only that but I STILL haven't received a birthday present from some of my readers so I'm not sure you should be treated so much until I get them.  Here's a new video for you though, enjoy my loyal bloggies!!

Return of the Blog 3: The other side of the till

I've hung up my badges for good

C'or you do get spoilt, yet aNOTHER blog for you to feast upon already.  Don't get used to it though, who knows I could just take a leaf from the teachers book and go on strike too...my pension scheme isn't particularly glamourous either you know!  This is the 3rd and final blog of my comeback, returning to the normal rhythm of Mondays and Fridays after this, not sure about this Friday however.  This Friday is the long awaited day when I head up to Oxford to begin my training for my placement.  Got an email today though which said that I will only stay there for 2 weeks, not a month as previously expected.  Looks like some busy times ahead; moving to Oxford, moving to London, blogging and tickling amputees.

So last Saturday was my last shift at the Co-Op.  It was a big wretch to leave I admit.  I've given that store 8 months of work and in return they've given me some really good memories, laughs and some great new friendships....oh and money....oh and 10% off purchases.  Whether its watching the security guard smash a shoplifter against the ice cream cooler with his head bleeding onto the floor, or coming up with nicknames for customers such as 'Venus Fly-Trap' and 'Smarmy', or simply watching your friend getting chatted up by a senior citizen...every shift promised something entertaining.  But life away from the panic button is so much more boring now, I want one more argument with an unruly customer, I want one more drunken fool to come in and argue with the Dorito's and headbut the 'Wet Floor' sign.  At the end of my shift I found myself begging "Let me serve just one more customer...don't take my badge!!", to anybody else it sounds insane, but I really did like that job a lot.  If you can't smile and show you're enjoying your work then you'll find that the shift takes longer and isn't very fun.  So I encourage all workers to wear a jolly face and be more upbeat...unless you're an undertaker.

Drinking on the job

Times change though and you have to move on.  I'm afraid that shop will have to try and cope without me now.  Not sure they'll be able to replace me though, not completely.  Who else would mince around the store, impersonating customers, winding up the supervisors by calling one of them "Dianne" just to annoy him for the whole time I worked there?  But don't you start thinking that I wasn't a good worker, I was superfantastic at reducterising the price of manky old products that nobody wants to buy (but who can say no to some stanky green steak covered in mould when its only 21p?) I could stock milk like a master (even stray cats were amazed by my milk handling abilities) and I could take longer breaks than anybody else.  You wanna try and replace me?  Good luck but you'll find yourself crying by the bins when you realise that you've lost the best and most awe-inspiringly good looking and productive worker you ever had.  Ok so maybe not the best looking EVER, but definately the best looking ever since Gordon Brown stopped working there.

Too cheery to work at the Co-op?

Final day went well though, until one customer came in.  He visited just to say hello on my final shift.  After I'd finished baggin his shopping and giving him his change, he shook my hand and said "It's been a pleasure meeting you, you're a credit to your parents, you really are"  he then took some beer out of his shopping bag and gave it to me.  I was so taken aback that I couldn't focus for a while.  It really actually meant a lot, that I had actually made a difference to that man, he came in just to see me and then did that.  Wow.  It's something that I will never forget and it was a great end to my final shift.  If that man ever finds himself reading this blog, I just want to say thank you and I hope you are well.  Like I said earlier, you can make your work better by wearing a smile and being upbeat, you can have a good time by making good friendships with your co-workers, but it can be those that you affect with your work and your spirit throughout that can really lift your day.  I'm proud of how I conducted myself during my work, no matter how much pratting around I did, I was professional when I needed to be and respectful to everyone.  I may have finished my time there, but I'm taking that knowledge with me.

So I thought that I'd pick up the tone a bit by uploading a video that I recorded tonight.  I went to the beach in the middle of the night with my girlfriend and 2 of my friends from the Co-op.  We got bored so we decided to show my girlfriend what it is like to be dead...so we buried her.

Next week - Cremation

Return of the Blog 2: Espana

My sister, myself and Quasi doing 'The Robot'

You lucky flip-flops!  Getting 2 blogs in one day, I sure do spoil you sometimes.  Think maybe I should stop your pocket money for a month to balance things out, but then again you're still late on buying my birthday present!  Sheesh!  Rude.  Ok so second of my comeback blogs, this one is about my trip to Spain with the girlfriend to go and see my Dad, Grandmother and Sister whom doth reside there.  As usual I kept the dates, flight times and airports a secret from y'all because I know you'd all want an autograph and a sneaky photo with me.  I mean I do love you my loyal blog readers but I'm just simply better than you...wheres your blog? hmm?!

Airport or corner shop?

The date was 19th June (also known as my birthday).  The location, Bournemouth Airport.  Ah now Bournemouth Airport is a joy to behold it really is.  It's sat there in the middle of a field trying to be a big boy airport, but you have to feel sorry for it when you walk in and nobody is there except for a guy serving coffee...to nobody.  It has about 8 flights throughout the whole day but still thinks it needs 6 departure gates, bless, it wants to be a Heathrow so badly!  Alas this wasn't going to be any ordinary flight.  I've flown alone, with my girlfriend and sisters, with my little brat niece and nephews but this time I was flying with my treat of a Grandmother.  She really is something.  Strapped into her wheelchair we whisked her through security where they were fixated on scanning the steel frame with a METAL DETECTOR "yes....it's definately a wheelchair and not some sort of suitcase bomb"  thank you Batman!  We then sat and chilled out with a beer each and waited for one of Ryanair's death tubes to hurtle onto the runway...late too.

The Spanish can only get a suntan round their eyes

Now being with my Nan in a wheelchair has its benefits in some scenarios, not like wandering through the Calahari desert or riding the dodgems, but most certainly in an airport.  We got guaranteed seats next to each other at the front of the plane and a VIP entrance to it.  We got into the back of a van that lifted us into the plane after everyone else, they all clapped and cheered at our entrance, maybe because they were sick of waiting but most likely because they were amazed to see a living blog legend in their midst.  We went vertically upwards towards the sky and above the ground or 'flying' as the kids call it nowadays.  Bit annoyed that Nan demanded the window seat because I like looking at the sea below and imaging crashing into it and thinking about blowing bubbles in the water for days on end.  Landing in Malaga was smooth and non-fatal which was good.  My Dad picked us up and we headed off.

Turns out that grass is the curer of all illnesses!

We stopped at the bar where my sister works and was welcomed by the locals singing Happy Birthday to me.  Very nice way to start off the week.  My girfriend got spoilt rotten during that week, as if a night together in the hot tub with wine and a massive inflatable screen set up by my Dad so we could watch the apprentice wasn't enough she also got to sample San Juan.  San Juan is nuts, it really is.  I wasn't really paying much attention to what my Dad was saying about it but it has something to do with running into the sea to wash your feet then throwing wishes onto a fire that was buring that statue of Quasi (pictured above) because they dont like moustaches or something.  I'll look it up but I think I'm pretty close.  Then a couple of nights later me and Sarah went back to the bar where my sister works to have a meal together to celebrate our 1 year anniversary, paid for by my sister and her boyfriend.  We were given a specially laid out table and free champagne from the owner.  People can be nice after all.

Overall it was a delightful trip, except for the landing on the return journey.  Apprently, Ryanair don't inform their pilots that the planes need to stop before the end of the runways.  We slammed into the tarmac and he smashed on the brakes bloody hard, but not hard enough to stop him missing his turning off the end of the runway meaning he had to turn right around.  If anybody had clapped at the end of that flight then I would have gladly shoved them in the overhead locker...with an irate koala to scratch him.  See this previous blog for full details Click Here.

All for now BliffleBlurgs but heres something that will keep you cheery until next time.  It's just my sister hitting her ex boyfriend over the head with a baking tray XD

Return of the Blog 1: The Girl and the ball

Shhh...We're mimes

Sorry!Sorry!Sorry!Sorry!Sorry!Sorry!Sorry!  Yes I know this blog has been on hiatus for a good while now.  No excuse really other than too much has been going on and I haven't really had the time to do them.  Some of these blogs can take the best of 3 hours to complete if there is a video with them, therefore I'm going to be giving you a few at once with only 1 video.  So much has happened since my last blog, this one will go into the beginning of this break.  When my girlfriend came back from America to move over here.

Ok so, the setting.  It was a dark and gloomy night, and all was quiet.  Nah I lie, it was a beautiful day in Bournemouth, birds be chirpin and kids be playing harmonicas.  I boarded my coach to Heathrow and off I went into the abyss.  I got there far too early because as my girlfriend had randomly decided to fly with an Icelandic airline...AN ICELANDIC AIRLINE?!  Why?  Iceland just cause far too many problems.  With their arrogant volcanoes that just decide to erupt in my face when I need to catch a plane and their woeful economic status, seriously their currency is called the Krona which last time I checked was a rather refreshing beer.  The staff at this airline must be unhappy by being paid in lager so they decided to strike meaning that her flight was LAAATE by a good couple of hours.  It's fine though I just sat in the terminal dressed as a pilot and pretending to write a suicide note, the looks on the passengers faces was priceless, ever so funny but I guess you kinda had to be there.

Spent a good hour on the beach before I got my coach

So I waited and waited some more, then with my crushed and ever so rapidly dying bouqet of roses in hand she appeared.  But huzzah a new issue!  We'd missed our coach and would have to pay £82 to get the next one.  But me being as awesome as I am managed to use the old Honour charm and persuaded the ticket lady to give us 2 free tickets, yes I know I'm a hero...think maybe she was a fan of this blog.  So thank you Mrs Goggins, you get a very rare mention on the blog, something that my many other fans lust for day and night.  Got home, went to bed and prepared for the next day..by sleeping.  I awoke from thy slumber in a daze.  For it was not an ordinary day, twas the day of the Summer Ball with another 7,000 set to be in attendance!

Now as you can see from the picture at the top, we decided to go as mimes.  I thought this was a good idea as it meant that I didn't have to spend all 10 hours at the ball talking to idiots about my costume, I could just pretend I was living in a box and weeping an invisible tear...reminds me of my childhood actually.  We got there early and wandered the grounds, munching on crepes, and slurping on jagerbombs.  There were a few other mimes there too, we woulda gone to chat with them but...we're mimes.  We waited for nightfall to arrive so we could watch Hadouken! play.  They were insane.  It was my girfriends first ever gig and she was in the thick of it, at the front, crushed between people, dehydrated and getting thrown about.  She loved it.  After that we ate more crepes and took the night as it came.  Was a brilliant night and cant wait until the next one. 

So thats the first part of what's been going on through this blog drought.  Heres a montage of the ball so you can see what it was like.  Check out Hadouken!

 

Is a locksmith a keyhole surgeon?

Toon Family XD

Probably best to start off with a witticism...whats the point in the signs that say "No Dogs except guide dogs"?  The dog cant read it and neither can the bind guy. Thats a fraction of my family in that pic on the left by the way.  A delightful bunch but they don't talk to each other anymore, ever since I wrote my will stating that some will get my stamp collections and the rest will get my huge amount of wealth.  So arguments started about how they are going to kill me.  Some wanted to stage a hippo attack, whilst the rest wanted to arrange for a German cucumber salad to poison me.  Although my lack of death is benefitting them as I'm still adding lots more stamps to that collection.

Can a leopard change its spots?  Of course if it has the money and the number of a good cosmetic surgeon.  So this is the penultimate blog before Sarah gets here Friday night.  Again to save myself from autograph hunters I'm not saying what airport,  flight or time she'll be on.  Probably should tidy my room before she gets here.  I like it messy though, it's fun to challenge yourself to cross the room without treading on cans, clothes and dead rats, getting quite good at it now.  Had a call from Al-Qaeda though as they're interested in using my cluttered room as a hiding place for their new leader.  I let him stay here for a few days to see if it would work but I cant see it happening.  His bloody backpacks take up so much room and he never does the dishes,  on top of that I cant understand what he's saying!  Would probably freak my girlfriend out too, unless I just keep him hidden and just claim that it's me yelling "Allah!" at random times during the night.  She knows I'm a randomist, so she might just go along with it.  We'll see.

Less than a month until I finish working at the Co-Op.  I'm actually going to miss that place I think.  I've made some pretty good friends there and had some pretty good times.  Nothing like fooling a scammer, busting a shoplifter and running around pretending you a have a laser.  I think that's a job that everyone should try once in their lifetime, honestly.  I've said all along that if my life was cushty and I had a lot of money, I'd have no problem working there just to have something to do.  I'd love to make my own store though.  "Mr Honour's Goody Emporium!"  and I'd operate it slightly differently, you pay £30 up front at the door and then can get 10 items free and leave.  Sounds strange doesn't it, but think about it, people have to buy petty things like bread and milk, in which case I'll make a significant profit on it, even if they do buy loads of alcohol for virtually nothing....trust me, it WILL work. I'll show you!  You'll see!  Where's your shop then?  How well is that doing?  Exactly, so shut up!  Sheesh when did my bloggy readers become so mouthy?!  Give me 20 years and my emporium will be all over the country...except sunderland ofcourse.  My store is ethical but it's not stupid.

Right so let me explain this next video.  This is a montage of videos that I recorded from my first year at uni in our halls.  Hurn House.  The crappest halls by far in terms of facilities and the look of the place, but by far the best social life.  18 students on each floor, means 17 instant friends and never a dull moment.  We got away with murder in that place, you'll see what went on in the video, although most of it is just my friend who's been locked out of his room naked...enjoy blugalugs!  I think I've cut it together quite nicely XD

If time is a drug then Big Ben is a giant needle injecting it into the sky

Rat Dog

Guess who's back...back again.  Allo!  Hope everyone is ok.  Apologies for the less upbeat tone in last weeks blog, stuff was just bugging me.  However, I'm fine now and raring to go with a new superdeluper blog of giddyness and zing!  Calm down though, be patient and I'll get to it.  Can people stop asking me to do shout outs please, I don't tend to mention specific people in my blog unless I think it's absolutely necessary.  I know if I do a shout out for one person then I'll have to do it for you all, then the blog will be very boring.  Sorry but that's my policy.  You've got a better chance of being raptured on October 21st.  Oh Mr Camping, you are funny.

Verrry busy month ahead.  June is always an insane month for me.  Currently my plans involve; picking my girlfriend up to start her life here in the UK, go to the Summer Ball which should be insane, go to Spain to see my family over there, finalise my housing arrangements in London and start getting ready to move to Oxford for my month of training.  A lot.  But add to that my other standard activities of taming a jackal, recording my own sitcom and writing my weekly love letters to Lightning from Gladiators.  Hectic.  But at the end of the day I can get home, jump into the tub with my Tesco value bubble bath, chow down on the sumptuous delicate cuisine of a £1 quiche and relax listening to the music of Vivaldi on my Fisher-Price cassette player.  Now isn't that just perfection?  I know you're all probably jealous of my delicately balanced lifestyle of work, rest and play but we can't all be a superstar stud-muffin can we?

Had an awful shift at work today.  Got a terrible backache.  Most likely from necktorectomy I had earlier.  I know you're thinking "Dave?!  You removed you neck??  But after your eyes, tongue and spare ribs, that's the best part of you!"  I'm afraid it had to be done.  You see I keep getting really hungry at random times, and I though a good remedy for getting rid of my food cravings is to make the journey from mouth to stomach shorter, thus satisfying my linger of hunger faster.  There are downfalls to this however, for example should I get knocked unconscious by a crazed yak with an anger management problem, without my neck and because my wrists are covered by my sweatbands there is no way of checking my pulse.  Therefore I have prepared myself for the possibility of being buried alive, I shall take the following items with me at all times...

1. Dog - Companion and as it will probably die before me, will make a rather comfy pillow.
2. Packet of M&Ms - I can challenge myself to guess the colour in the dark
3. Sudoku challenge book - Endless fun for days
4. Guide to coping with claustrophobia - For reference
5. First aid kit - I may be dying shortly, but I still dont want a niggling paper-cut distrupting my fun.
6. Gun - Don't want any other premature corpses trying to steal my M&Ms and my oxygen.

All in all, the necktorectomy has both its advantages and disadvantages,  I may be buried alive but at least I wont be bored.

It's bloody hot!!  Well compared to how it has been lately.  Just being sat in my room makes me sweat more than Lucifer in a sauna.  I'm not too sure about this global warming malarky though.  They claim it's a huge problem and that we must act now to stop it getting worse.  But think about it, do you not think that our friends the Eskimo's (sorry, got to be PC here - Inuit's) really mind about global warming?  They're stuck on a terrain of ice.  Nothing to eat but Ice Cream, nothing to drink but Iced Tea.  Nothing to do but Ice skate and no music to listen to except Vanilla Ice.  BORING!  So bring on global warming, make this earth more bloody fun!!  I for one would love to see the sea levels rise a teensy bit so it engulfs sunderland and not Newcastle.  I want hurricanes to blow away the chavs littering the streets.  I want to see volcanoes erupt into oncoming planes so that when it lands safely then the passengers have a REAL reason to clap.  I hate passengers on planes who clap the pilot after every bloody landing, really does my head in.  He's just doing his job, if he didn't you'd be dead.  You don't call for an encore everytime your bus driver pulls into the depot do you?  I get so wound up by these happy clappies that I get tempted to just take it to a whole new level, following them through the airport, applauding the guys at passport control for correct use of the stamp, cheering for the security guys for feeling me up properly, and giving the baggage trolley a big hand for not exploding.  Ridiculous.

Enough ranting, time for bed me thinks.  I always write these very late at night, but that's when I'm in the zone for spitting out drivvel - I know you love it.  Unfortunately no video tonight as my latest one needs a re-edit.  It's filmed and everything, just needs a few things sorted.  However feel free to browse the archive of past blogs for your pleasure.  Much love Blurg Blecks!

Understand that friends come and go, but for the prescious few you should hold on...

This is how things were, not anymore unfortunately :/

Hello my blog buddies.  Thank you to all of you who have commented so nicely about this blog lately, it really means a lot.  Some people who I really didn't expect to take an interest in this blog have told me that they read it.  Thank you.  Still no sign of my Nobel Peace Prize for bringing world wide Nirvana to all who read this blog...bloody postal service!

First, a happy note.  It's my sister's birthday today.  She's 24 and whilst yes I did buy her a present, a set of unfortunate and purely coincidential and definately unplanned circumstances occurred yesterday.  First of all when getting on the bus to the coach station, in my haste I didn't check what bus I was on, too busy trying to guess the driver's nationality, hints of Polish, Czech and a tad Romanian...always a social faux pas to ask though.  So it took me all the way out of Bournemouth and then back in, whats more is it didn't even stop in the coach station so I had to get off at the next stop and run in order to catch my coach, and it was at this point that I realised that I'd left my sister's present at home.  Lady luck wasn't with me that day, but then again she hasn't been seen with me much lately anyway.  I think she's off with that guy who lives opposite my house...slut.  Don't worry though, my sister stopped crying and threatening to crucify me and we still had a good day.  Went to have lunch with relatives and then went to Jamie Oliver's restaurant in Cambridge for dinner.  Her birthday mainly was focussed around food.  Good for me though as I think student living has made my stomach shrink, so a good reverse liposuction is just what I needed.  Delightful day.

I'm not feeling too happy though.  I think it's the realisation that what you were told by your elders before you left school was true.  The friends you make at school will move on, and so will you.  I see my friends who all went to the same uni and some who are better connected all going off and doing stuff together.  I'm not angry, I'm not jealous.  But you do wonder what they think about it.  Do they remember you?  Did you make any difference to them?  I loved my friends from back then and I still hold them in high regard no matter how little they contact me.  They were a big part of my life and I think it would be silly to let that all go just because theres more miles between us.  If any of them are reading this then please don't think that I'm angry with you, it's just a sad time when you realise that those friendships are dying out.  One friendship I had...a really strong friendship, died about a year ago.  You know who you are, and I know you'll read this.  I'm glad you do.  I'm glad that you can still know what I'm up to.  I'm glad I can still make you laugh.  I try to talk to this person, but despite my efforts, I am rarely listened to.  Every now and then this person will do something, such as liking something I've said on facebook or replying to one of my efforts to talk to them, and it always makes me smile.  Something must have happened between us, but this person would never tell me what it was, not sure if I'll ever know.  Again, though, know that I'm not angry with you, you still mean something to me and I'll still be here if you do want to talk.  Nonetheless, all new friends must enter a legally binding agreement with me from now on including; (yes another number co-ordinated list)

1. Friend must be present at all my birthdays, ballet recitals and funeral
2. Friend must have no body odour, but must have an enchanting musk
3. Friend must speak to me once a week, for a minimum of 48 hours.
4. Should another rapture be imminent, they must be my rapture buddy.  They are required to take all beatings in Hell first to wear the torturer out.
5. They must find some chatty, shopaholic girlfriend with a lot of cash to keep MY girlfriend busy while we're down the pub.
6. They must remain my friend for a minimum of 1,640 years.

Good friends will be rewarded with a Honour Loyalty Card bonus of 50 points which will get you on your way to winning a George Foreman Grill.

Thats the dark side of my blog finished.  One full month left in Bournemouth now.  A lot's going to change over the next few months.  Looking forward to the summer ball though.  My girlfriend and I have decided to go as mimes.  Could be very fun.  Never again will I go into Primark and ask "where are you berets and white gloves?", the look I got off the assistant working there was ridiculous.  Luckily I found a French dentist who happened to have both, but was unwilling to part with them unless I invited him to the ball aswell.  Unfortunately my University is extremely ridiculous and refuses to let anybody with a hilarious accent to the ball, this includes Germans, French, Welsh and recent tonsillectomites.  So I'm still hunting for the gloves and beret.  I've decided to not allow any photo's to be taken of us as mimes, as everybody looks like a mime in a photo, defeating the object.  Also gunna have to make up some mime routines, such as filling in my self assessment tax return, getting a manicure. setting up deckchairs and shopping for mime costumes.  Should be a hoot, like it was when we dressed as owls.

Right this video was filmed last week but my laptop crashed and I lost the edit so I've had to start again.  You better appreciate it! Laters my friends :)

You smell like an oven

Nothing humiliating about Panto :p

I'm sorry, don't hate me for being late with this blog yet again.  Just been busy with revision, work and other concerns, but I'll try and get it all back on track ASAP.  Hope you like the picture by the way.  Thats from my fourth year of panto, amazing times.  I wasn't dressed as a girl for the whole thing, I was acting undercover to try and kidnap some kids from a school...quite an awful plotline when you think about it.  Not to mention that this particular panto was Robin Hood, but I don't recall such an act taking place in that story.  I was nominated for a golden globe for my awe inspiring performance but was unfortunately beaten by bloody De Niro again!

So, lets get blogging.  Can I firstly start by referring to the title of this blog which for once isn't just a random line constructed by my brain, this was something that my little neice actually once said to me, kids say the darndest and quite insulting things.  Finished my last exam yesterday which means one thing IVE FINISHED MY SECOND YEAR OF UNI! Which means I'm halfway done.  Now for 1 year of work, it's gone so fast!  I'm going home for a few days to get away from this town of work work work for me.  This place is amazing but the people here are weird as hell.  For example, I went into town today and because I'm a loser I sat alone in a coffee shop, 2 business men sat at the table next to me.  They could have discussed financial forecasts, advertising revenue or even that cute little red head from accounting and I wouldn't have minded.  But just as I'm sipping on my americano I hear "...and of course its been dreadful, my wife has had pneumonia which wasn't great, and I had piles...so not the best week"  oh lovely, yeah you just yabber to your colleague about your medical history whilst I start to convulse trying to drink my java.  Inconsiderate man who sits on his chair strangely.

It's my sisters birthday on Monday, shes 4 years older than me and has been for as long as I can remember.  Bloody hard searching for a present though, her interests are dolphins, nursing, travelling and Christianity.  Hard to combine all 4, and after weeks of searching and nearly giving up, I found the perfect present in town.  It's one of those experience gifts.  I've paid for her to travel to Taiwan where she can nurse a decapitated dolphin whilst walking on water.  Pretty expensive, but I splashed out as a very geneous man called Egumbi from Nigeria has incredibly offered to give me millions of pounds and all I had to do was give him my bank details so that he could transfer the funds!  So flattered that he chose me, must be this blog.  Surprising though as it hasn't exactly been a hit in Africa yet, only one country so far, but you guys can help.  Instead of donating food, water and resources for sustainable farming, why not donate a laptop?  Give them the chance to order their aid from Amazon and Ebay. 

Cheryl Cole...my dream girl, has been axed from the X Factor in America.  Allegedly because they can't understand her Geordie accent.  It's not THAT hard.  I consider myself half Geordie on my fathers side and I absolutely love Newcastle.  But what's confusing about it?  I took my own little yank to Newcastle last summer and the only thing that confused her was watching a gay man mince past us singing "Just a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down" but I just explained that LSD is a hell of a drug.  Every place has its downfalls though, think about it.  Heres a list of places and their downfalls...

1. London, England - Trying to turn 360 degrees without having you face slashed and your shoes stolen
2. Cardiff, Wales - Referring to a microwave as a "Popty Ping" (colloquially)
3. Paris, France - Knowing that the Germans beat the crap outta you.
4. Berlin, Germany - Knowing that the world still kinda hates you.
5. Tokyo, Japan - Being the most technologically advanced whilst still not knowing how to cook fish.
6. Tripoli, Libya - The weather

Just a few there, could probably mention more but I could potentially border on the xenophobic if I wasn't careful.  The only place excempt from any fault is without a doubt the Swedish, they have it easy, in the words of Alan Partridge, "they get up in the morning, have a bowl of swede, hop in the Volvo, play some Abba and drive to IKEA" easy.

Right so to make up for my failure to post a blog on Monday, I've made video for you that shows some of the inside of my room, lucky.  Don't say I don't do anything for you.  Enjoy Blurg Bliffers!!

"Can't" is the cancer of happen

The day we ran out of gravity

Back again my giddy little gremlins!  Blog time once again.  Can my fans please stop sending me pairs of socks as presents!  I'm really greatful and I've tried to please as many of you as I can by wearing as many of them as possible, but I cant get my shoes on anymore.  I appreciate the love, but forget the socks, a generous cheque will suffice.

REVISION TIME!! I've done one exam and have one more next week, I wont say the location or time, because I don't want any fans swamping me during the exam, it's a little distracting.  Trying to write about Services Marketing isn't very easy with half naked girls draped over my desk begging for an autograph.  Just an inconvenience really.  I'll have my pencils thoroughly sharpened to stab any potential gatecrashing groupies.  Revision hasn't been going too well, procrastination is always at my door and I'm constantly letting him in.  He's so persuasive too, he makes me watch random youtube videos, play Zelda and alphebetise my collection of calculators.  I'd go tell the police to get him out of my house, but he'd love that because I'd just be procrastinating even more.  As I speak he's got me at gunpoint making me write this blog instead of revising.

It's now only 20 days, 18 hours, 2 minutes and 17 seconds until my girlfriend gets back to the UK, hopefully for good.  Going to be a little hectic for the first couple of months while I settle into my new job and house etc.  Would like to thank a good friend of mine who I went to school with for letting me and my girlfriend live with him and his housemates in London for the duration of my placement, although I'm not sure he knows what he's getting himself in for.  To be honest, I'm probably not the most ideal housemate for a number of reasons;

1. I don't believe in doors.  They offend me.  All must be removed in the house before my arrival.
2. I'm likely to play the entire works of Barry White until the early hours of the morning, you either get a love for soul, or get a love for a screwdriver in the neck.
3. I'll be bringing my 2 pet furby's with me, Gadaffo and Isami Bin Ladi.  I try to control them, but they do have a habit of appearing in the airing cupboard when you're reaching for a fresh towel "Ahhh heheheh...play...now....yummm"
4. I'll be tempted to operate my own international airport from the garden, although I'm sure my housemates can get discount fares to Ibiza.
5. I'll be hosting my weekly meetings for the Womens Institute in the lounge, so if you're sexist then please leave the house during this time while we discuss knitting, moaning, moping and nagging.

Hope he's not reading this blog.

Getting a bit fed up of people thinking I'm gay.  I know I know I can be a little fruitful and perhaps a tad TOO enthusiastic at times but come off it.  I stand at the till at work with my hand on my hip and the other hand leaning on the counter and a woman says to her friend "wonder if he's gay".  What's the deal with that?!  I don't look at you with your low cut top, you're caked on make-up, your twin brats running around and your chav of a boyfriend and say "I wonder if she's on benefits"  Dumb bimbo.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not a homophobe, nothing against gay people.  What has always perplexed me with gay men however is nothing more than...the tut.  By this I mean, you can be chatting to a bloke about a friend who's had a loss in their family and then all of a sudden "*tut* ooh I know *hand on shoulder*"  where has this tut come from?  Who decided that those who have been to camp 'Camp' need to add that little nugget of tongue tapping before sentences?!  It adds nothing, it just gets annoying.  If anything it just sounds like you're constantly criticising things.  Is it some sort of morse code attempt?  I don't know.  But when I start adding tuts to my exhuberant skipping and hand on my hip, THEN you may call me gay.  Who knows, maybe theres a perfect man waiting for me.....ooh chance would be a fine thing!

Hope I wasn't being offensive there.  That's not my style.  apologies if I have been.  Quick mention, want to say a huuuuge thank you to my amazing girlfriend who designed the new background for the blog.  I didn't even ask, she just did it.  Amazing.

I designed this video myself though, and it's designed to give you nightmares :p