I'm going to Hell

Happy Valentines Day! Yeah! Can anyone tell me what St Valentine did? No you can't! Because no one knows. And I don't just mean a general no one, I mean literally no one knows. However I'm pretty sure whatever they were martyred for does not include giving out flowers, cards and chocolate.

As I don't really like Valentine's Day I won't be talking much about it. I will however be getting the Wench something, or else I'm in trouble, not that she ever gets in trouble for not getting me anything, but I'm wondering off the point. The topic today will instead be about pants, as we call them, or underwear for the Americans in the audience. My Top 5 types of undergarments are:

1. Pants (The traditional tighty whiteys, in case you think I mean trousers)
2. Boxers
3. Thongs
4. Lingerie
5. None

I gave up wearing pants quite a while ago, at some point boxers just became more comfortable, plus they were less embarrassing, like wearing swimming shorts instead of speedos.

Thongs are brilliant, and I'm not talking about banana hammocks, and I'm not saying that I wear them. But aren't they great? Who ever invented thongs should win a nobel prize. I'm not sure which category it'd be in though, maybe peace, but also possibly physics or medicine... banishing the VPL should certainly be worthy of something. On the topic the Wench should win some kind of prize, as pretty much all her underwear consists of thongs, and that's why I love her!

Lingerie is a gift from the gods. Is there anything better than lingerie? And it's so comfortable... Although every one knows you can always trump lingerie by simply going commando.

Labels: fun, nice, presents, religion, shame, underwear, valentines, wench

Happy New Year! I know it's late, as always. I've not had the greatest start to the year, probably better than last year, but still not great. After the God of Hangovers finally decided to move on from the party he and his insane, screeching hyena entourage were having inside my skull on the 2nd of January, I was granted a day of reprieve until I fell ill on the 4th. After a miserable weekend spent on the couch curled up with the Wench and a duvet I got back to work on the Monday.

So I've been catching up with stuff since then. Cleaning up, doing work, blah blah, the usual grind. Every so often I need to remind myself of a few things:

1. 2007 is over
2. I have a new car
3. I'm not ill any more
4. 2008 can finally get going
5. I'm getting married this year!

We actually bought our car last year, finally getting rid of one of the things that made 2007 so unbearable. The car cost £600 when we bought it, since then we've spent at least 3 times that on keeping it running. No longer will things drop off our car unexpectedly, deflate, collapse, spin away or break apart. Fingers crossed.

The other big news is that this is the year I make the Wench an honest woman. Not that she's not an honest woman now, it's a bit of a stupid expression really. The realisation that we have less than nine months left to plan, book and arrange our wedding was a bit of a shock. I'm not really involved in the planning so far, which can only be a good thing, it seems to be ticking along nicely with the Wench and her mum doing their thing. As long as I get my pimp cane, top hat and topless ushers I'll be fine.

Labels: crap, drinking, hangover, health, holiday, wedding, wench

It's been quite a while since I've had to try and pull a girl. I've been with the Wench for so long it seems like forever (Eight years, I didn't forget, it was a joke! Not the face!), so I've not had much use for chat up lines. Of course before I met the Wench I never had to resort to such vulgar tactics, being the suave lady killer that I am.

Below are a few of the worst chat up lines I've ever had the misfortune of hearing. And when I say hearing I don't mean they were tried on me, otherwise I may very well have not been single when the Wench came around. Here they are:

1. Fat Penguin? (It breaks the ice!)
2. If you were snot I'd pick you first.
3. You might not be the best looking girl here, but beauty is only a light switch away.
4. My love for you is like diarrhea, I just can't hold it in.
5. Does this rag smell like chloroform to you?

I did in fact lie before. Not about being a debonair casanova, that was all true, but about never using a chat up line. In my extensive experience it's always best to get the object of your affections on your good side, and this may involve getting her to smile. Of course this requires a certain amount of guess work as to whether or not you'll get a positive response, and which line to use. Even the tried and tested 'Can I buy you a drink?' is a chat up line, so most men at some point have used a line.

I wouldn't recommend using any of the gems above, although a variation of the first featuring a chubby polar bear did get me a smile once. As far as the others are concerned it's probably best to be complementary, even if the line is so cheesy it's funny. I'd steer clear of offering to let a girl sniff a rag in your hand, rape humour is never popular, you'll probably end up getting maced, and let me tell you, that stuff stings!

Labels: comedy, crap, drinking, friends, fun, stupidity, wench

In case no one knows about it yet, I feel the need to point out that it is actually National Novel Writing Month (It should really be International, but whatever). I really should have said this before the month started, so if you wanted to you could join in, but I'm selfish like that, I didn't want you stealing my glory.

I've wanted to do this for a few years, so this year, despite not being any more prepared, or with more time than any other year, I took the plunge and signed up at NaNoWriMo.org. Here's five reasons I shouldn't have done this:

1. It's 1,666 words a day, the number of the beast!
2. I hardly write in my blog.
3. I don't have a plot.
4. I'm as easily distracted as a chubber* at a buffet.
5. I can't actually write.

The basic premise is that you spew out 50,000 words in one month. It is an incredibly rough first draft that you can then do whatever you want with. Even if that is storing it away and calling yourself a writer for the rest of your life, which is what I plan to do. I'm struggling a little at the moment though, having just crossed the 4,000 word mark last night, while I'm supposed to be at around 10,000 by the end of the day. Yeah... that's not gonna happen.

To give you an idea of the sheer stupidity I've got myself involved in, and just how much of a plot I don't have, my book will feature: Angels, demons, rats in armour, skinned vikings, ghost Romans and possibly freaky dead orphans. Sounds great doesn't it? It's also not supposed to be a comedy, as it's intended for adults. An example of just how much I intended this to be for adults occurred in my first day of writing:

The Wench: "So what's happening now?"
Me: "Well, my main character is a girl who's just about to be raped in a mental hospital."

I'll let you all know when I get it published!

*After searching Urban Dictionary for known meanings of 'chubber' I thought I should point out I'm not talking about a hardening penis, but am in fact referring to a fat person. That's another of those UK-US mix ups like what you call 'chocolate' we call 'inedible swill'.

Labels: NaNoWriMo, orphan, Rats, religion, stupidity, UK, US, wench, writing

There's very few thing's I find more frustrating than modern civilization's fascination with 'celebrities'. I don't mind it about people who are actually famous, but who cares about someone whose only claim to fame was that they were on a game show over four years ago. And they didn't even win!

The worst thing about this is the magazines I see in newsagents and supermarkets. They obviously sell, otherwise there wouldn't be so many of them. I don't see why people need to know this sort of information about these people, or why there's such a market for this crap. Here's the worst offenders:

1. Glamour
2. Now
3. OK!
4. Closer
5. Heat

I hate these magazines. It's pure shit disguised as journalism. If I want to know about celebrity news I'll just read The Superficial instead. It's not that I care about what is being written, I just think that it's written in a funny way, which actively encourages you not to care.

However the thing that makes me ashamed is when a new magazine comes out and I ALREADY KNOW WHAT'S IN IT. I've already read about it. I am more up to date on irrelevant celebrity knowledge than most of the girls I know. Sure I don't actually know that many girls, and the last thing the Wench read for fun was our tickets to Metallica, but it makes me feel like I need to scrub out my brain with steel wool. It seems like that could only make me smarter. Otherwise pretty soon I'll be impersonating these muppets: carrying round small dogs that can't walk for themselves, checking myself into rehab at least once a day, then getting my kids taken away from me. Not that I have kids, but I could adopt some. That's cool at the moment as well though, yeah?

Labels: assholes, crap, shame, stupidity, suckage, wench, women

OK, just to disappoint you I'll clarify that maybe 'ashamed' is too strong a word. I'll admit that I like these films if they come up in conversation. Most of the time I'm met with disbelief, although there was that time I ended up with 6 stitches. To be fair I did call her Mum a whore and curse her family, I wonder how that's working out. I consider these films underrated classics, so I don't mind sticking up for them, especially if the reason the conversation came up is to diss John Woo. No one disses The Woo! Anyway, here's my five films:

1. Transformers The Movie (1986) - 42%
2. Army of Darkness - 78%
3. Hard Target - 32%
4. Hulk - 61%
5. What Dreams May Come - 56%
*Scores courtesy of Rotten Tomatoes*

OK, I am kind of ashamed of liking What Dreams May Come, I think I could officially have my balls revoked for admitting it. It's a good film though! It looks awesome and the dude goes to hell to get his wife back. You've got to admit that is impressive. Plus The Wench loves it so I score points for watching it with her.

Hulk is underrated and got a slating for no good reason. So what if the hulk didn't smash enough, that probably would've been even more boring. OK, so it was fairly boring. But it was the kind of comic book film that should be made, not just action, it actually has a story as well. On the other hand Hard Target is probably Van Damme's best film, except maybe Universal Soldier, that was awesome.

I have no excuse for Transformers. Except this.

Labels: comedy, films, shame, wench

I give the Wench a lot of shit on this blog, mostly in my whiny way where I whine and sound all whiny. Then whine. But she's been really good to me recently, and when I say recently I mean since I've known her. Although she has put in real effort in the last few weeks as I've been working late a lot and not exactly jumping with energy when I've gotten home. She picks me up from the station already, but now she's got a smile on her face.

Basically I don't think I give her enough praise (not that she gives me any), but I complain a lot as well, as I just demonstrated. Anyway, here's 5 reasons why she's awesome:

1. She always talks to anyone.
2. She's always up for getting wasted.
3. She's watched more of my porn than I have.
4. She's just as lazy as I am, which means she can't bug me about being lazy.
5. She's Hot.

I think the first point is very important. The Wench talks, she talks a lot, to anyone who will listen. And most of the time they do want to listen. When I first met her family all I got asked was 'How do you put up with her?', to which I just shrugged my shoulders and smiled, as I don't talk. At all. It seems a bit of a weird combination, but it kind of works. An example of why this is great comes from last week, where we went for a night out in Loughborough. There's now a smoking ban in the UK, which means if you smoke you have to do it outside of bars and clubs. We went for a fag and immediately made friends with the group standing next to us, and ended up exchanging high fives with them for the rest of the night (The Wench is on a mission to bring back the high five). This may seem insignificant as we were all drunk, but she can do this ANYWHERE. It's like a mutant superpower, she can just get anyone to like her and start talking. I used to get worried going out with her to a pub as she'd spend ages going to the bar or toilet as she'd immediately make 3 new friends on the way.

The last point The Wench will undoubtedly disagree with me on, but as a shallow male I have to say it's rather an important point. She is hot, and I feel I should tell everyone, her included, that she is hot. And that I like to do her, all the time, as much as possible.

Labels: cigarettes, drinking, friends, fun, laziness, UK, wench

I'm off to the Download Festival again this year. I'm leaving in about 30mins actually. The Wench's brother (let's call him Bitch for now) is already there, with his tent set up and waiting for us. This year Bitch supplied the tent, a £100 10-man mansion, for just 4 people: Me, the Wench, Bitch and his band mate Spider (not his real name, but he is a drummer).

I'm currently waiting to leave, I've got half an hour. the last 3 days have been the slowest of my life! I've been looking forward to the music I've got to listen to, alcohol to drink, fields to pass out in and all the rest. Here's who I'm looking forward to seeing:

1. Wolfmother
2. Korn
3. Iron Maiden
4. Marilyn Manson
5. Linkin Park

Of course they're not the only bands there I'll see. I'll also watch Mastodon, Megadeth, Slayer, Lamb of God and many other wholesome and family friendly bands. Last year was a great festival, hot, sunny, lots of friends, good music and women giving away free Snickers Ice Creams. I hope this year lives up to it. Even though the music isn't as good, and the weather is likely to be cloudy and not as many people I know are going, I'm sure I'll struggle through.

What am I talking about? It's going to be awesome, or off the hook as the kids say nowadays. I've got 4 litres of vodka for me and the Wench to get through, and a whole lot more which should add to the weekend as well. The Red Bull X-Fighters are there this year as well, hopefully brightening my day with some comedy crashes as they've stolen the only piece of shade in the entire arena. If I blister in the sun the least you could do is fall of your bike midway through a Superman Backflip to make me feel better.

Labels: downloadfestival, drinking, friends, fun, holiday, music, sun, UK, wench

It's been about 3 weeks since I last posted. I do have an excuse for a large part of that time, as I was away on holiday in Spain, visiting some of the Wench's family (she's not Spanish, they just live there). Since returning we've had a bank holiday in the UK, so that's even more time off. In fact I've only worked a few days in 3 weeks, and been pretty busy while at work.

Anyway, I'm back now (for a few days at least) and ready to tell you the truth about Spain. I'd gathered that the Spanish are fairly lazy, what with their siestas and the building site that is their country. There's also a lot that I'd been told that had misled me about Spain, but on the other hand some of what I'd been told was totally correct:

1. It's not as cheap as I previously assumed.
2. Young Spaniards have a death wish when driving bikes or quads.
3. The food is as good as you've heard.
4. It's not as warm as everyone says.
5. It's an entertaining drive back to the airport.

During my time in Spain the Wench's parents paid for most of it. Put it this way, we spent £36 for the whole trip. And I'm glad we weren't paying, because it's not as cheap as everyone says! But the food is worth what you pay for it. I loved everything I ate on that holiday, even the lead paint had a nice tang. The weather however, was supposed to be excruciatingly hot. During our time there, the UK had much better weather than we did. The six hour storm on the final night was impressive, but not quite what I was expecting.

I was designated driver on the trip, with the Wench, her brother and step-brother sharing the car. I nearly killed 3 Spaniards over the holiday, all on dirt bikes or quads, driving at ridiculous speeds in the middle of the road. After listening to the kids of the village roar up and down the main street all night I decided if I did actually hit one of them coming round a corner, I'd probably just laugh at his broken skull poking through my windscreen.

On the final night the four of us that had been sharing the car went on a mission to get wasted. We succeeded admirably, with the Wench's step brother throwing up over the balcony before bed and again the next morning. As we were up in the mountains it was a 45 minute drive to the motorway through winding roads up and down steep inclines, ideal for any hangover. It took 5 minutes till the first passenger was sick (the Wench's step-brother), followed by another (the Wench's brother). The two of them then went into full puke overload, going continuously till we hit the coast. This meant I couldn't use my wing mirrors or else I'd be sick, getting a prime view of them hurling from the windows. It was like they were egging each other on, setting each other off again and again. I had puking in surround sound. 'Vodka' became a magic word, capable of inducing vomiting even by whispering it. The outside of the car was in quite a state by the time we reached the airport, so we threw the key to the hire car across the desk and ran. Luckily it wasn't in our name.

Labels: drinking, driving, family, hangover, holiday, stupidity, teenagers, wench

That's right, a new low. I will today be discussing the many different types of shit people take. I feel that this a much ignored topic, even by blokes. Men tend to make comments when they come back from the toilet, but full on dump orientated conversations are fairly rare.

To start things off, here's a few definition's that I've come across during those rare moments when the topic of releasing the chocolate hostage arises:

1. The Ghost - You've pinched off a loaf, but when you go to wipe, there's nothing there.
2. The Neverending - No matter how many times you wipe, there's still more poop to remove.
3. The Shotgun - It comes out so quick with a bit of gas, leading to a lovely pebbledash effect on the bowl.
4. The Ring Burn - After eating spicy food, mainly curries, you get a nasty burn around your balloon knot.
5. The Guinness - The nastiest, blackest, most foul smelling turd made by man or beast.

Of course there's plenty more out there such as The Train, The Behemoth, and The Rollercoaster to name a few. A few friends of mine at university had a tally running in the toilet of their shared house. Every time someone went to drop the kids off at the pool you had to mark how it went on the chart. The chart was conveniently located on the back of the toilet door, with a pen taped to it.

The Guinness is an oft overlooked style of butt fudge. I became aware of it in the worst possible way I could imagine. The Wench's Dad was getting remarried, and I went on his stag night. During the course of the night out of sixteen of us, fifteen were drinking Guinness all night. We were all sleeping in the same house, sharing the same toilet. It was my bad luck to be one of the last to use the toilet the next morning. By that point the smell had become a living thing, solid and angry, looking for a way to take revenge for the abomination it had become. They found me unconscious in the hallway, after I'd managed to escape it I'd blacked out. Sometimes at night I can still hear the screaming...

Labels: crap, drinking, friends, hangover, horror, wench

So over two weeks after I said I was going to see 300 I finally managed to drag the Wench to the cinema to see it on The Big Screen. It was definitely worth the effort. The only thing I can think though is that it's probably not going to be as good the second time round. Sure it's impressive, the visuals are stunning, and everything looks just like a moving comic book, but other than all the dudes with rippling muscles killing hundreds of masked samurai-esque warriors what are you going to concentrate on now you know what's coming? What am I talking about? It was AWESOME!!

In honour of the magnificence that was 300 I give you my Top 5 Spartans:

1. Michigan State Spartans
2. John Spartan
3. Master Chief
4. Kratos
5. King Leonidas

The Spartans were apparently the finest soldiers the world has ever produced. What happened to them? If they were that great they can't have been annihilated. Maybe they moved. Or maybe, like those other highly evolved killers of long ago, the dinosaurs, they evolved into something else?* Yeah, maybe they just got so good at killing people and being the ultimate soldiers that they evolved into ninjas. Then they all disappeared, never to be heard from again, only to be remembered for their past deeds before they moved on to a higher plane of existence.

*Note: I think this is crap, the dinosaurs were killed off by a time-travelling idiot with the flu.

Labels: films, history, late, science, stupidity, wench

We've been in our flat apartment for just over a year now, I think, and during that time we were mostly neighbourless. The apartment to one side was occupied briefly, but the owner was hardly ever home, for months at a time, and she's just sold the place. The apartment on our other side was put up for rent, and only recently did anyone move in. We had grown accustomed to being alone and quiet in our corner of the building. Then Slammy McDoor-Swinger moved in next door.

Here's the top 5 things that make the Wench pray for a small localised holocaust and/or nuclear blast:

1. They're not particularly friendly
2. They don't turn off the hallway light.
3. They don't lock the hallway door.
4. They slam their doors.
5. They park halfway in our parking space.

These may seem like small petty things, and they are, but they really get on the Wench's nerves. Only the parking really annoys me, as we only have one space (which we own), the car park is always pretty full and they're taking up two.

Over the weekend the Wench discovered that when someone buzzes our neighbours' intercom, we can pick up the phone as well. So she was listening to their conversation and then whispered into the phone, "Helloo...". Apparently they both stopped talking and got a bit freaked out. So I guess that's the Wench's plan to get rid of them, scare them and either convince them that a) this one year old building is haunted, or b) we're mental enough that they want to leave.

Labels: assholes, fun, home, suckage, wench

The Wench is currently on a bit of a comedy bender. Pretty much everything we watch has to be funny. I can see where she's coming from, our year has started badly so far and getting a bit of a laugh is what we need. Laughter is pretty therapeutic, and it's nice to have a chuckle every now and then. It has limited our viewing options quite a bit though, and my stack of DVDs to watch has steadily grown as we're never in the mood.

Here's our current top 5 shows we watch to lighten our moods of an evening:

1. Futurama
2. Family Guy
3. Robot Chicken
4. American Dad
5. Drawn Together

Nothing quite cheers me up like a bit of inappropriate humour, which American Dad, Robot Chicken and Drawn Together can all deliver in spades. I love it when nothing is sacred and absolutely anything can be used for a joke, because it's not like anyone can complain if they're picking on everyone. Blacks, whites, gays, jocks, fatties, twiglets, no matter your race, class, sexuality, handicap or lifestyle your likely to be a target at some point.

Sometimes it can get a bit uncomfortable for me and the Wench, as you inevitably create little in-jokes amongst yourselves which people don't get if they haven't seen the show. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but if the joke is a little inappropriate, you get strange looks. Hopefully, like in our case, after you explain yourself your friends are forgiving enough to overlook a comment about horribly penising someone.

Labels: comedy, fun, home, nice, TV, US, wench

You know when you think "If I bought gym equipment so I could exercise at home, I wouldn't need to go to a gym"? A clever person then realises that if your not going to a gym the chances of you doing exercise are less than your chances of surviving a raptor attack. I've had a few of these moments, and by my own metaphor, I would be a bloody lump of bones, being picked through by prehistoric scavengers.

In my attempts to lower my gym bills I have purchased a number of pieces of fitness equipment. I've used a few of them, but most of the time they just lean against the wall, taking up much needed living space. A few times I've not even assembled the equipment. Here's my top 5:

1. A Powerball - Used 3 times in a year.
2. A Rowing Machine - Used quite a bit in the first 2 years, once or twice in the 2 years since.
3. Free Weights - Used quite a bit for six months, once or twice in the 3 years since.
4. A Weight Bench - Never been used.
5. Cross Trainer - Bought 2 weeks ago, not been used yet.

And I keep buying more stuff! If I actually used any of this kit I'd be pretty buff, unfortunately that's not really the case. The last thing I used was some Tae-Bo DVDs, which are pretty good by the way, but that was about 2 months ago. I'll buy something thinking this will be the thing to trigger me off, then I will suddenly become a fitness obsessed machine, my weight will disappear and within a week I will have the body of a Mediterranean speedo model. This almost never happens.

I'm just to lazy too keep it up. I bought my weight bench to go with my weights, which already had a great layer of dust on. The bench sat assembled for 6 months. Then in a fit of energy I assembled the bench. Now it has stood against the wall for a further 4 months unused. The cross trainer we bought 2 weeks ago from a friend has been unused for 2 weeks, except when the Wench used it for 10 minutes one morning. I swear one of these days I will get up off my lazy ass and do some exercise! I can even watch TV when I'm using most of the kit, and I've spent enough money on it all!

Labels: exercise, health, stupidity, wench

When I was at boarding school I was the only kid there who had a video player, and a decent collection of videos as well. I was at school at around the time DVDs were coming out, so there were a lot of sales on at the time, and my video collection was pretty large. Unfortunately since then my video player has died so I now have to try and replace them all.

Anyway, we used to say a lot of lines from the films we watched, and I was known for being able to name the films they were from. Here's 5 to test your film knowledge:

1. "I hope I give you the shits, you fucking wimp."
2. "Nobody makes me bleed my own blood. NOBODY."
3. "You want to be a big cop in a small town, fuck off to the Model Village."
4. "You can put a cat in an oven, but that don't make it a biscuit."
5. "What if a customer comes in and my jerkin' off gets him all sex nuts and retard strong"

I'm not sure many will get number 3, as it's a new film and I don't know if it's been released in the US yet. The rest are out on DVD, so you've got a fair chance of getting them.

I'm a bit of a dork at heart, not a geek or a nerd, well maybe a little bit. There is a fine line between the two. It seems that dorks are a bit more socially active, so they're allowed their geeky habits, they have friends and girlfriends. My main interests include movies and videogames, and I'm a programmer by trade, but I also have quite a few friends and get out a lot, making me an acceptable geek, or a dork. The Wench was horrified to find out I considered myself a bit geeky. I am a bit of geek though, look, I'm writing in my blog.

Labels: films, friends, fun, history, quiz, wench

I am a smoker. I'm a bit of a rubbish smoker as well. I only really smoke when the Wench smokes, and she's been smoking since she was 4, or something like that. I only smoke a lot when I'm drinking, and it's when I'm drinking I really get the urge to smoke as well.

I keep trying to give the Wench reasons to quit, but they never work, and I'm too lazy to quit if she keeps on doing it, so it's a bit of a vicious cycle, as I could be leading by example. Here are some of the reasons I've given her to quit:

1. It's expensive
2. It smells
3. Wheezing/coughing/general unhealthiness
4. Lung cancer
5. There are NO benefits

The weird thing is there are NO BENEFITS to smoking. Yet it's such a popular habit. People claim it relaxes you. The only time having a cigarette has relaxed me was when I hadn't had one for 2 days and my body was craving the nicotine. It's only relaxing if your addicted and jonesing for a hit. On the other hand it has some monstrous negatives, listing death as one of it's main downsides.

Why do people start smoking? It tastes terrible to begin with. I can't get the Wench to give me a proper reason as to why she started. As far as I can figure it her friend started and she thought it was cool. And it is. It is cool to smoke. But she won't admit it. I started smoking because I thought it was cool, and so did a lot of people I know. It made you look older, feel more grown up and kids looked up to you. Look at all the movies, all the cool characters smoked: James Bond, Fonzie and Bender to name a few. But I really should quit now, look what happened to Darth Vader.

Labels: cigarettes, films, health, stupidity, suckage, teenagers, TV, wench

I used to love making Mix Tapes when I was younger. I never had many CDs or tapes of my own, so making a Mix Tape was my only way of getting hold of the music I wanted. After all, the internet wasn't really around in the form it is now, and my access to it was very limited, I had no idea of the magical and illegal things I could do.

So I would make a list of my favourite songs at the time, around 40 would normally be a good number. Then I'd go around school, finding who had the CDs I needed and would lend me them for an afternoon. Once I had collected all the CDs I needed I'd head to my room and get recording, but I always kept these tips in mind:

1. Don't put two songs by the same band next to each other.
2. Sudden changes in pace break the flow.
3. All tapes must have an excellent first song.
4. But the second song must be better.
5. The third song takes it down a bit, then the rest builds to the final song.

First of all it's best if you plot out your track listing, I could always fit about 12-15 songs on one side. This inevitably left quite a few songs from the 40 I'd chosen, which went into the list for my next tape. It's important that you have a flow to the album, that each track leads nicely into the next one, it's useless going from a slow song to a fast song, it just doesn't feel right when you listen to it.

As far as early relationships were concerned, a Mix Tape was as good as moving in with your girlfriend when you were 13. They always made great Valentine's Day presents, after all they take an entire afternoon to sort out. I can't tell you how much credit I got for my tapes. Today though downloading a bunch of songs from ITunes and burning them to a CD can take about 30 minutes, how much credit can you get for that? Now that I've proposed to and moved in with the Wench, I don't get any credit for that sort of thing anymore. To make an emotional impact requires something much more, like matching sweatsuits, and I'm just not ready for that kind of commitment yet.

Labels: music, nice, presents, valentines, wench

I had more bad news over the weekend as I found one of my pet rats had died over Friday night. Sneezy wasn't the most originally named pet, and I shouldn't say but she was my favourite. The sneezing was an indication that she had an infection, and she was sneezing when we got her, and despite our efforts, never really got better. She did well to last the six months.

The Wench came and woke me up on Saturday morning, worried that she wasn't moving, so I got up to take a look. We found her curled up in her house, having past away during the night. I was surprised by how upset I was, as I had become very attached to her. Here's my Top 5 things I loved about her:

1. She used to come and say 'Hi' when I got back from work
2. She'd climb up the front of her cage to get a treat, then hang there and eat it
3. She could jump nearly 4 foot from a standing start
4. For a small rodent, she was surprisingly interactive and intelligent
5. When we got them out to play, she was the most adventurous

Sneezy left behind her sister Shy (I bet you can figure out why she was named that). Shy was quite stressed all Saturday and it didn't take us long to decide to get some more friends for her. After all apparently the best toy for a rat, is another rat. But we had a day of mourning and did nothing on Saturday as a mark of respect.

On Sunday we buried Sneezy in my parents garden; our garden is nearly non-existent. Then we went and got two more rats, which we named Misty and Sugar (we've become slightly better at the naming). We weren't going to put them together straight away, but Shy found a way through our defenses and they seemed to be fine together so we left them like that. Shy seemed much happier with the company.

Goodbye Sneezy, you will be missed.

Labels: home, Pets, Rats, suckage, wench

Sooner or later at some point in everyone's life they take the time to become properly intoxicated and then spend the night with their significant other, or a group of close friends, and sit about setting the world to rights. Or in my case, asking stupid questions and thinking how great your answers are.

In the past couple of weeks there have been quite a few Friday and Saturday nights spent in this fashion, and while the large majority of things we talked about are either boring or I've forgotten about them, here's five that I can remember:

1. Would it be better to have a pound note than a pound coin?
2. Are music, films, sport and games justifiable items to list as your interests?
3. Does playing Wii sports really make you fitter?
4. What is the sweatier sport: Basketball or Squash?
5. Is Frankenstein's Monster also the abominable snowman?

A few of these are quite hard to decide on. For example Squash, similar to racquetball in the US, is possibly the most physically demanding sport I've ever played, but the games are short. When I played basketball, especially inside, it's the sweatiest I've ever been, but then the games are much longer. So which is the sweatiest?

As for the monetary issue, I've been to America and used notes, and also live in the UK and used coins. Personally I prefer notes, having a pocket full of change is annoying, and it makes going to Strip Bars expensive as the smallest note over here is £5, and you can't tuck coins into a strippers thong. Perhaps they could wear coin purses, maybe attached to garters or something...

Labels: drinking, friends, home, stupidity, wench

I like the idea of karma, most of the time. I'm not a bad person, I don't do bad things. In fact I like to think of myself as a nice person. I don't go out of my way to be awesome and do really good deeds, but if you dropped your wallet, I'd probably let you know as you were walking off, or I'd try and get it back to you.

Which is why I can't understand when a whole bunch of bad stuff ends up on me and the Wench all at once. What heinous murders or other wrongdoings must I have committed in a past life to be this unlucky? Here's my top 5 reasons for feeling done over by karma:

1. Late payment charge
2. Ground Rent
3. Maintenance Fee
4. MOT
5. Plumber's call out charge

The late payment charge was kind of our fault, the Wench has changed jobs, so we're a bit low on cash, and she became overdrawn on an account. The MOT is on our car which is only ours as our last one got written off in an accident that wasn't my fault (seriously, it was parked and I was at work in a different city), so we had to get a cheap replacement which now needs work to keep it going. The ground rent and maintenance fee are for our flat, WHICH WE OWN, so this is on top of our mortgage. We were led to believe this would be around £200 a year, but in reality it's over 3 times that amount.

Finally the plumbing charge. Our washing machine was fitted by the site manager of our flats as they were still being built as we moved in. He did it as a favour to save us some money. Later on the washing machine leaked as it had not been properly fitted. The resulting charge for the plumber was £130+ (around $260) for him to TIGHTEN SOME SCREWS! I don't know about you, but to me that seems like anal rape on an intergalactic scale. I hope karma rains down on that plumber for the rest of his life and it's about time some good shit started happening to us.

Labels: bills, home, suckage, wench