The Drunken Sunday Update

Wooooooooooooooooo, drinking!]]


OKay, so, I am drunk. But that fioeesn't mean I ahve serious opinions ions on things
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;.;./;/,ml kplmgasesterrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr




okay, look, the point is, that, at this moment in time, I am tremendously happy with life.###


Deal with it, bitches.

Liveblogging a Drinking Challenge

So, at 2am GMT, Obama is doing the state of the union address. I wouldn't ordinarily care, at all, but this year, in collaboration with a bunch of folks from the forum I frequent, I'm going to play the State of the Union Address Drinking Game. The rules are right here. The game, and the speech is expected to last an hour. In the entirely likely event of my death, this post will also serve as my last will and testament.

2:00am: State of the Union is meant to begin. Beer One is open and being drunk.

2:05am: Beer One is starting to get a bit low, but the president is here!

2:06am: Oh shit guys, this could hurt.

2:14am: Nancy Pelosi does not have a face. That is some kind of solid mask.

2:15am: HOPE and CHANGE are going to be big killers.

2:20am: Joe Biden and Pelosi are wearing PURPLE TIES. This is a sign of UNITY because it combines RED and BLUE. SYMBOLISM.

2:22am: TAXES TAXES TAXES TAXES HGBLUGBLUG

2:24am: Oh man, standing ovations are up to five.

2:27am: SMALL BUSINESSES. WALL STREET. BLARGH.

2:30am: Obama is all like "Health Care? Fuck you Republicans, I'm just gonna pass it, and you can just deal."

2:32am: Standing ovations count: seven.

2:35am: "Hey, all banks. FUCK YOU. GIVE US MONEY"

2:38am: Bipartisan policies, yo.

2:40am: Standing ovations count: eleven.

2:41am: PANAMA! PANAMAHAHAHAAAAAA! VAN HALEN RULES

2:44am: Barack just broke out the comedy. Hell Yes.

2:46am: Big shout-out to Michelle Obama. Barack clapped his own point for the first time 'cos he knows he's getting laid.

2:48am: Standing ovations is around seventeen Eighteen.

2:50am: McCain looks like hell. Daaamn.

2:52am: Fiscal Responsibility. This is important. There are plenty of numbers being thrown around here.

2:55am: Barack just totally laid into the senate. 'Fuck you guys, I'll just do it myself.'

2:57am: Now he's dissing the Supreme Court. Obama is THE MAN.

3.01am: Barack just cracked a joke and no-one laughed. Fantastic.

3:06am: Standing ovation from everyone except the Joint Chiefs, because Barack Obama just committed to pull out of Afghanistan, or somewhere like that.

3:14am: Barack is a GOOD DAMN COP, BUT HE DOES'T PLAY BY THE RULES, DAMMIT.

3:16am: Story Time! A little kid sent Obama his allowance money and told him to give it to Haiti. D'AWWWWW.

3:21am: We've just finished the speech. I'm pretty trashed. There are many beer cans here. And now I think we have the Republican response. I'm gonna pass out soon.

3:27am: VIRGINIA governor Bob McDonell is providing the response. IN VIRGINIAS CAPITAL. My contact in the USA informs me that his sons are 'hot'.

3:32am: Man, this guy just cannot match Obama. He just got a standing ovation, but I don't think it was a good one.

3:35am: Yep, decided I don't care about the repub response. Gonna post this and bail.

WOO OBAMA

Day Eighty Two: Guest Post by Sheepy Tree

This is courtesy of James' Blog. I am..well, grateful isn't exactly the right word for it...

So then, I'm pretty drunk right now, but not drunk enough to not kill zombies. Man I love Left 4 Dead, simple, unchallenging zombie killing at its finest.

I do need to walk home though, gay.

So apparently I need to pad out this post, I think its literary genius quite frankly, But apparently its not. So what to say............................................................................................

This isn't getting any longer, its like a bad essay. Hmm,

"Acid rain" is a popular term referring to the deposition of wet (rain, snow, sleet, fog and cloud water, dew) and dry (acidifying particles and gases) acidic components. A more accurate term is “acid deposition”. Distilled water, which contains no carbon dioxide, has a neutral pH of 7. Liquids with a pH less than 7 are acidic, and those with a pH greater than 7 are basic. “

The breast is the upper ventral region of an animal’s torso, particularly that of mammals, including human beings. The breasts of a female primate’s body contain the mammary glands, which secrete milk used to feed infants.

God, the LCR was jolly good fun tonight, much dancing and considering I wasn't going to drink, I think Andrew did quite well at lubricating me.

We also went to a talk by Sean Cagen (i think) who was held hostage for 4 months by the Taliban, bad times for him, but I got to ask him a question for my dissertation, so extra marks for me!!!!

Best go now, Drew's being a massive loser and wants to sleep. He has sold out this year, he used to be cool.

Later

XOXO

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Now playing: The Kinks / He's Evil

Day Eighty: Actually sounds really weird when you say it out loud, doesn't it?

Man, that was a pretty fucking awesome night.

It started with several beers and good pizza with James, while we watched Taken, which I must point out right now is a fucking ball-flatteningly awesome film. The moral might only be "Don't kidnap Liam Neesons's daughter, because he will royally fuck up you and anyone else involved, but it's still a lesson I think we can all take to heart.

So, many beers later, we were joined by Lauren and Emily, and played the most schizophrenic collection of music ever. Goddamn youtube. Although, apparently I thought enough of some of these to post them on my facebook. Who knew?

Staggering away from that, we went to Sarah's digs to wish her a very merry birthday, and for James to present her with a cake. Because he's a total fag like that.

Anyway. Eventually we get out to the LCR, and it's a mixed bag, in terms of the tunes. James has a word with the dude who has influence, but it is not greatly successful. But that doesn't matter, because soon enough I'm drunk enough that anything with ever a vaguely danceable beat is now THE BEST SONG EVER.

Eventually I get to the point where I want to fall over and die, so I head outside, running into Thom. Now, I previously mentioned Thom as the godless swine who gave me mulled wine on my birthday, effectively removing all memories past drinking it. But, and this is partially due to the umbrage he took as a result of this, I'd just like to clarify that Thom is pretty fucking awesome, and I think he's genuinely cool. Even if he has removed his dreadlocks of power.

Eventually wandering back inside with Emily, we proceeded to tear the shit out of the dancefloor, rocking to any number of absolutely terrible songs before the close. So, bus back home, then I ended up wandering across the road where there was some lovely spooning with Sarah in Rachel's bed, before Lauren gave me a cheese toasty to finish off the night.

And now I'm back home wearing absolutely nothing, and giggling endlessly to myself because I'm listening to Prince and remembering that the bad guy's main henchman in Taken looks unerringly familiar to him.

Heh.

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Now playing: Prince / 1999

Day Seventy Eight: A true story

oh GOD why did I set two alarms
PAIN
PAIN
Ah relief
Sleep?
No. Coursework.
Shit.
FUCK.
this is crap.
hey new scrubs today!
download
HEY VIRUS FUCK YOU
I GOT YOUR TROJAN HORSE RIGHT HERE FUCKO
god, related reading?
What the fuck?
Amazon.
related books
oh, sweet, that was easy.
hey, scrubs is done
i like new blonde intern. i would sex her up.
ah Janitor.
SHIT
FUCK
write write
man fuck you michael billig
what is wrong with you
how can you make comedy boring
what the fuck
oh hey Kate
POWER CUT
WHAT THE FUCK
IF MY WORK ISN'T SAVED PEOPLE WILL DIE
oh good
work exists
goood
man this article sucks
article summary: this article is wank. fuck you michael billig.
FUCK YOU
okay send to uni
40 minutes to deadline
WHERE THE FUCK IS BUS
music bus music
uni
print
in at the last gasp
one minute to go
bus
SLEEP

Addendum: So, last night was pretty good. Aussie beach party always rocks. I didn't get on the mechanical surfboard unfortunately, but that's probably a good thing as I drank all the booze. ALL THE BOOZE. And man, when I'm drunk I can be a right bastard to myself. What kind of evil bastard sets four alarms for 7 in the morning after a night of drinking? I mean, that was just hellish. Still, first bit of coursework in, and I'm going out tonight as well. At least I don't have to wake up early tomorrow. My first on-campus activity is at four in the afternoon. Praise Jesus.

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Now playing: Rick Derringer / Real American

Day Seventy Seven: DRINKING

I'd like to take a moment to philosophise about drinking, and why it's fucking awesome. Drinking offers clarity of purpose. Maybe not clarity of mind, and certainly not clarity of body movement, but I can certainly attest that I've always done my clearest and most direct thinking when I'm completely fucking battered.

When you're sober (or at least when I'm sober. That's right, I'm assuming that every else's mental experiences are identical to mine. Because that makes total sense. Anyway, back to a sentence that won't make sense anymore) then you have to deal with all of those moments of self-consciousness, all those little instances of wondering what you're doing, what's going on, and what you've done. But hell, when you've got a good drunk on, all of that goes away, and gets replaced by one firm, rock solid belief; You are totally awesome, and you are fantastic.

If you're doing your drinking correctly, you'll always feel great. In the company of good people, and with a good supply of booze, you'll never feel bad. Drinking helps people connect better, making all the worries and fears disappear from conversation and removing self-doubt and fear from the equation. Drinking is wonderful.

Naturally, there are downsides. You don't have good people around you when you're seriously drunk, and there's a tendency to get deeply introspective. This is a terrible thing to happen, because it actually reduces the amount of time you want to spend with other people. You start to not only suspect, but know that everyone who attempts to talk to you is a bastard and you hate them. It's a terrible vicious cycle to get into, which is the main reason why you should nnever leave drunk people by themselves. They'll likely be seeking out some terrible vengence on humanity in general.

But man, if all the factors flow together in a nice enough way (and, in my experience, if you drink enough, things generally tend to do that regardless) then getting completely fucking steamrollered is one of the greatest things in life. Oh God yes.

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Now playing: St Germain / Acid Jazz So Flute

Day Seventy Four: -title-

Good drunken evening tonight. Came straight from campus to town, where I met up with Sarah Katie and Sam, and we drank quite a lot.

Did you know that they do Double Jaeger Bombs in Squares for £3.75? My mind is still fucking blown over that. I need to go there before every film I watch. Apart from that, we also had many different cocktails of many different colours, and it was wonderful.

Oh, and then! we decided to get gallery seats to watch the absolutely awful My Bloody Valentine...IN 3D!. Did you know that when you get gallery seats that it's literally all you can eat for popcorn and nachos, and all you can drink in terms of coke and shit? Because while it might be a couple of quid more for the seats, it is totally fucking worth it. I've eaten my body weight in Nachos and Popcorn, which combined with the drink, is making me feel very unusual. Water should help.

Although, I do have a 9am tomorrow. Well, actually, in less than seven hours. Which means I probably need to wake up fairly soon, a problem that is made so much more difficult because I'm not even in bed yet.

Does anyone else feel odd when they decided to do sex scenes in Skins? I'm watching the new episode right now and I feel a bit odd, like I'm watching child pornography or something terrible like that.

I've no idea how good this is. It's all very back to the future at the moment.

Heh, Harry Enfield has still got it.

Man, fart jokes? Really?

C'mon, I thought we were past this.

Oh, and now he's exposing himself to the entire student population. Of course.


Man, fuck this, I'm watching some battlestar!

Day Sixty Eight: Rambling

So, the thing is, I'm drunk and posting my very second entry of this year in a terribly, drunken, state.

Spaced is on in the most unconventional way possible and it's kicking arse.

Argh you fucking bastard.

I don't know how I managed to get the entire first season od spaced t opalay as my desktop baackgound but I',m excited avbout it.


oh god.

man picked dog.

aaaaaaaaaah.

Sarah.

wgheres that come from?

My ex-girlfriend.

lologram.

I love you too boss hogg.

the point is that somehow, I need to fill up 250 words somehow as well as formulating some kind of realistic sleep plan.

Honestly, this background and weird version of spaced is weirding me out and I am deeplyt confus3ed about how it came to exist. I mean, seriously, what the fuck.

The honest truth is that somehowe spaced is playing in the backgrou8nf, it'ds wierding me out,m and somehow it's become complete.

ahha haha ahhaaahaa.

Thrush.

So, anyway, because I know nothing about my housmates, all I'll say is that I am writing nothiong specific or terrible about them. All I'm doing is rambling vaguely on while spaced plays in thr background.

The thing is, you need to get that out of the way sooner, rather than later, otherwiae it leasds to terrible tension and stress.

The point is, I need to sleep in a serious degree soon, and I don't realy care about tyhe activities of my desktop background. And yet, somehow they are involved with my life.

Holy jesus fuck.

Anyway, bedtime now. Fucks sake.

Day Fifty Eight: Holy fuck, Vampires and shit! Part 2

So, yesterday we discussed the gay and terrible Vampires from Twilight. Well, today, we'll be talking about the much more awesome kind of vampire as found in True Blood.

Now, just as a completely random aside, I've been burned by HBO before. They created Rome, one of the most asskicking and fucking awesome shows ever, with some of the best historical drama combined with some hardcore swearing and violence and absolutely brutal violence. Unfortunately, they decided to cancel it after the second season, rather than letting it play out it's original five season plan. And that really sucked.

Plus, HBO were responsible for both Sex and the City, and, of course, Sex and the City: The Movie, so it's understandable why I'd fear new things by them. I have the irrational fear that anything I see by them will either get cancelled, or turn out to be the most estrogen filled thing since the ovary.

However, True Blood has so far managed to avoid either by being completely fucking awesome. We've got boobs aplenty, swearing and violence and whatnot, and the main character manages to both be female and not a horrifying Mary Sue unlike a certain other franchise I could name.

Admittedly, I'm only three episodes in, but what I've seen so far is giving me extreme confidence, especially given the sheer amount of awesome that we've had so far.

Plus, Heroes has kind of been making me depressed by how crappy it's becoming, so this will fill a nice gap in the meantime.

Anyway.

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Now playing: Chris Isaac / Wicked Game

Day Fifty Six: SPECIAL SUNDAY UPDATE OF DRUNKENESS

So, it appears a certain Mr Turner has taken on himself to dare criticize the shining beacon of perfection that is this blog.

Well, that's fine. After all, I welcome attacks on my opinions. Because my opinions are unique in that they are always, 100% correct. This is true. Because I said so. And, as we've discussed, I am always, always right.

James claims somehow that The Cable Guy is a bad film. He puts forward the idea that it is boring and "Jim Carey[sic] suck arse in it." Now, as much as I enjoy intelligent film criticism, I have to say that this really excels. I mean, it takes a true talent to say that a film is boring without ever being entirely clear on why. Especially given that the films tone of unsettling terror is happily counterbalanced by an action scene every twenty minutes, and dialogue that is truly inspired and perfectly satirical for the time.

Now, actual criticisms I could understand. The direction is sloppy, which is understandable given that it is Stiller's first film, but it's still a point to be made. Furthermore, we never really connect with out protagonist at work, and it's only outside that we are given the opportunity to engage with him. These are proper, intelligent criticisms.

But for James to simply dismiss it as boring?

Well.

I'm not going to say that he's fucking retarded for making this assumption. I'm not going to say that he is crappy and uninspired in making a blog, purely to attempt to compete with the sheer awesome that is this one. And I'm not going to say that he's a total loser for not going out tonight and instead staying in and writing on his blog.

I won't say any of those things, because I'm a lovely person. I'll simply say that the half-arsed, rambling post above is something that I managed in about ten minutes, and that James has no good taste in films. Any films that he might like in common with me are clearly products of his deluded mind.

Also, I'm kind of drunk and kind of angry. Not at James, but some other things. So.

Hopefully you'll now all understand that James is painfully wrong, and The Cable Guy is fucking awesome.

Goodnight.

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Now playing: Orson / No Tomorrow

Day Fifty Four: DRUNKSS

disclaimarse: I am ver y fdrunks right about now, mkay.?

BUTTS

So, I suppose I'd best udate then.

I am, once again, feeling ver gay, having watched today the thing that is Mama Mia!. I mean, I am a film student and so should appreciate such monumenmenental films. After all, this motherfucker has sold more on DVD than Titanic, although Titanic was released in 2000 and so is working with a slight disadvantage/

Anyway, this film was not graeat. It wasn't bad either. The only problem was, throughout the entire thing, I kept thinking that this was a film that is totally not being marketed towards mee. Like, at all. I mean, jesus god, this film was terrible for someone like me.

However, things picked up a bit after thew film.

Given that I'd had a couple opf drinks before the screenign , hand snuck, (snook)? (sneck)? a fourpack of san migueal in, I was a leeeeeeetle bit drunk when watching this.ss And it was pretty bad.


And I say that SAS a man who got enjoyment out of Hairspray.

Quite aside from that, agfter the film, I got drunk, stole some things, anrd I lived haoppiky ever after. THE EDNDDDD,.

BUT WAIT.

SO, I finally get in , with trilby and stolen poseter, and I'm feeling pretty good.

I am listening to the TROPIC THUNDER soundtrack on Loud an it is the bestest thing ecverszszz.

,mans, I dont;y evrne knoe words weantmor.

I am dnot still drinkminfdddhg

honests.ss


EeeeeeeeeeeeeeeDQ"


Furthermore, Ia tbutss.........

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Now playing: The Crystal Method / Name of the Game

Day Thirty Eight: Liveblogging some election, or something.

Obama is at 195, McCain at 76, because Obama has just won Ohio.

So, to reiterate a point from the 2004 election, OHIOWNED!

Jesse Jackson is laying down the challenge. If America can elect a Black president, where the fuck is France's black president. What about Britain's Black prime minister?

Holy Shit, the Murdoch just kinda endorsed Obama. This is insane.

Also, Oprah just jumped on the bandwagon. Which is less shocking, but still.

Uh oh, McCain just won West Virginia.

Okay, so, the BBC, home of awesome, non-biased journalism, just comapared the odds of McCains chances to the existence of the tooth fairy.

Wow, the BBC actually just took a short break to talk about just how shitty a president Bush was. Not bad. Not bad.

Wisconsin has just gone to Obama. Hey, remember that time that Colin went to America in Love Actually. Motherfucker went to Wisconsin. Oh yes. You can't buy that kind of political analysis.

McCain just took Texas. Least shocking news ever, reflected in the BBC's five seconds worth of coverage on the matter.

Holy shit, did that dude say "economic shit"?

Oh, Economic Ship. Right.

That makes more sense.

Palin, while good for the Republican base, was unable to win over Joe Sixpack.

JOE SIXPACK, PREZ FOR 2012.

An actual quote from the BBC live coverage: "0243 How disappointing; I had harboured vain hopes of using some quotes from former CBS news anchor Dan Rather about the race being as tight as "a too-small bathing suit on a too-long ride home from the beach" or tighter than "rusted lug nuts on a '55 Ford." But the race isn't even close so far."

What.

Holy shit, this is better than the fucking election: http://www.conquerthislife.com/

You know what, fuck the fucking election.

This is better than that. So much better. Oh yes. Thanks go especially to Ryan for giving me this glorious thing. The BBC coverage is on mute now, because, holy shit, the Hoff is talking to me about Red Alert 3. Life could not get much better.

Wait.

Wait.

Eddie Fucking Izzard is on the BBC commentating on the election. What ho?

This is fascinating.

NEW AMERICA!

THE WORLD WILL BECOME FILLED WITH FLOWERS AND RAINBOWS AFTER BARACK OBAMA IS ELECTED.

Well, Fox News just called the election for Obama. I think this is now over. Even the vast right wing conspiracy has backed the next Prez. Gosh.

Republicans; Frighteningly defiant to the end.

HAHA, Media Bias from the BBC is evil and made McCain lose. You heard it here first. On the BBC.

Oops.

Man, that crazy ass dude with the moustache commentating on the election for the BBC is actually fucking crazy. Holy shit. HOLY SHIT.

The man in the Camo Baseball camp thinks that Obama is Satan, and he hates both Nancy and Barack. Gosh. McCain is the last great hope for the country.

THIS IS UNPRECEDENTED. SINCE 1992. OH YEAH.

(As an unrelated rambling note, I nearly took a wooden spoon home tonight. And the motherfucker was broken and stolen. I hate everyone. EVERYONE.)

Apparently McCain will concede within the hour. Christ I hope so. I'm fucking tired.

Hah. Doodies. Or, y'know, 'duties'. Crazy ass 'mercan accent.

IT'S ALL PALIN'S FAULT!

Man, fuck this. I'm moving to the bed. Since I have no wireless keyboard, I'm going to throw this up as it is.

***

But, I'm calling this for Obama. Seems like the safe bet.

Also, FUCK YES, OUR REPRESENTATIVE FROM SCRANTON, PENNSYLVANIA IS THE FUCKING VICE PRESIDENT.

WOO YAY.

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Now playing: F-Zero X - Mute City

Day Thirty Six: A Good Day.

Red Alert 3 was the thing that woke me up this morning. Literally, as it dropped though our letter box. And, well, it's good. Damn good. Based on the C&C 3 Engine, but infused with a certain love and joy. The only kind of love and joy that comes along with Armoured Bears. And Tesla boats that turn into tanks. And japanomechs. And, of course, George Takei in the cutscenes. That cannot be understated.

So I plow a few hours into that, and then get a call from James, to go and see the new Bond flick. And we do. And it is quite awesome. I mean, yeah, James Bond is now attempting to be Jason Bourne, which is probably a bad thing, but my God, I'd still watch this film if it was renamed and called "The Wacky Adventures of M" because Judi Dench is just that fucking awesome.

And then. Beer and Burger at Wetherspoons. Which hurt. Because it was no regular beer and burger. This is burger, then doubled, then with cheese and bacon added. And a beer. The whole terrible lot is still sitting in my gut like a solid rock. It's going to do terrible things to me when it leaves.

And THEN! I head over to see Callum and Nicki at there place, and we drink beer, eat pizza, and watch Love Actually, and become very soppy towards the end. Except for me, because I have a heart of iron, dammit!

And now, I'm back home, and playing Red Alert 3 again. It's been a good day.

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Now playing: MGMT / Time To Pretend

Day Thirty Two: BLAH

So, Dead Set appears to be the spiritual prequel to 28 days later then. That is fucking awesome.

I mean, Davina McCall as a fucking manic zombie is awesome, but dammit, this is great.


Anyway, I spent tonight at an L G B T social, whic was facinating. LGBT stand for lesbian gay bi and transgender by the way.

I think it might be easier being a dude who fancies dudes. As far as I can make out, the guys I was with had absolutly no problem pulling dudes who they found. I do not have any clue why some of these guys had to ask me later on "hey, am I boring?" given that they had some random dude attempting to lick their face. SO, damn, I should probably turn gay then. Seems to be fun enough. Except I don't really like having sex with guys.

Heh, "I'm a normalite."

Sorry, I'm liveblogging this as I'm watching the latest Dead Set.

"Merry fucking Christmas"

My god this shit is awesome.

So, at gay night I was able to decide that it doesn't matter whether you're straight or gay; making out in public is disgusting, and you should go home to fucking do it.

I mean, jesus christ, just go home and get your sex on.

"It's not a submarine you specimen, do you know how air works?"

This show is fantastic and I wish to make love to it very much.

SO.

The point is that I wndered over to gay night, watched dudes make out with each other, then had Callum steal some kind of head dress and then j'accuse me of stealing it.

I feel slandered.

And drunk.

Well. Mostly drunk.

Right.

So...

Day Twenty Three: Senseless rambing about not much in particular.

Today, I will talk about drinking.

I'm a fan of drinking, I will admit. It's fun, it's easy, and it enables me to better discuss matters of deep social importance with people I barely know. This is an important skill. Too often I have been trapped with people, unable to enlighten them with various eloquent and watertight reasons on why their particular stance on taxation is wrong, or how their chosen government is a terrible choice, and that they should feel terrible for choosing it.

Anyway.

I find that the most likely thing that I will discuss, while drinking of course, is just how drunk I, and everyone else is. It's fascinating, the way that we're drawn to arguing about how totally drunk one person is, or how another person is totally faking it, and they haven't had anything to drink, and, dude, I've totally had more shots of vodka than they have, man.

The point that I'm laboriously crawling towards is that drinking is a great activity. It reveals the true nature of a person, and more importantly, the true nature of the self. If you've ever had the experience of being by yourself while completely drunk, either walking home, or just unable to sleep, you'll know the feeling. It's a fabulous amount of introspection that goes into this, and it's at a level unprecedented when you're completely sober. Fuck all this Buddhist meditation and shit, what a person who is desperately seeking intuition into their soul really needs is a good night on the piss.

Basically, what I think people should do, rather than follow religion or politics or any of that, is get completely and horribly drunk instead. I think that everyone will feel a whole lot better for this. Also, we should all get naked.

Really naked.

Just better for everyone, y'know what I mean?

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Now playing: Dirty Pretty Things / Bang Bang You're Dead

Day Eighteen: I AM TIRED AND CANNOT THINK OF A TITLE

Seriously, I was completely knackered today. I decided to go to the bar for a drink with my old housemate Damien, which turned into a goddamn pitcher of beer, and then several Jack Daniels and Cokes, which holy shit, are still £1.80, and therefore cheaper than beer. WHY DID NO-ONE TELL ME THIS?

Anyway, I think I decided around half an hour after I got to the bar that I was going to head upstairs to continue partying, and a half hour after that I wandered upstairs to get my ticket, being the completely prepared and organised motherfucker that I am.

Fun Fact: When the LCR opens at 10 on a fancy dress night, they give out free shit. It's so rare that I ever see this, given that usually, I'm either too drunk, or arrive too late because I'm too drunk. So, I go up at ten, and set my eyes on this beauty:


FUCK YES

So, I ended up rocking this hat for the rest of the evening, and getting so very drunk and spending so much money that I actually had to ask Kate for a fucking glass of water. God, the shame. Damn fun night though.

The problem was, I got woken up at about 10.30 in the morning (This follows stumbling in, completely destroyed at 2am, and then spending the next three hours looking at random youtube videos and giggling to myself) by a phone call from a shitty cold calling agency that I'd signed up with the other day for a phone interview. I'm really not that passionate about calling people to offer them exciting new deals, but this is tempered by a severe need for money.

Apparently, I'm on form when I'm hungover, because I've been asked to come in for a full, proper job type interview. Although I suspect their screening process is not that intense. After all, I assume I just have to follow the script, and not mind when people ask me to kill myself.

In completely unrelated news, the cat who sort of lives in our house despite us never feeding it and infact mostly treat with disdain has shown us his political leanings.


I'm so proud.

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Now playing: Sam & Dave / Soul Man

Day Thirteen: The Adventure Continues.

So, I woke up this morning feeling pretty terrifically hungover. Post-mortem analysis of the night reveals that I drank at least ten cans of beer before I even left the house, so I can only imagine how drunk I was when I turned up at the Pyjama Party LCR. Further investigation reveals that there are several half drunk bottles of scotch in our house, my dressing gown smells even more peculiar than usual, and there was a sash to fasten someone elses dressing gown in my pocket when I woke up.

I don't even fucking know.

So, I wake up to an empty house, and all this excitement ahead of me, and get a call from James to meet in town. Hungover shower and getting dressed later, I meet James in Maplins, where we talk shit about USB hubs for far longer than is healthy, then head to Wetherspoons for Epic beer and burger. It feels godly, and it's not just because of the pint of beer that I had with it. Shortly after that, we head back to campus to grab a lecture on the evils of Disney and watch us some Snow White.

I have nothing to add to that video, other than Dopey is fucking metal a good fifteen years before rock and roll even existed. Finally, I head back home, and I've literally spent the entire time watching Doctor Who, apart from a short break to watch Men in Black and eat pizza.

Christ, it's a hard knock life being a student.

Day Seven: Yes.

[Written by Kate Chapman]

Andrew is pretty wankered at the moment, so I've taken over his task. I'm fairly sure that he is going to regret this in the morning, because not only will it mean that he has failed his task in finishing these posts before 12am (unless asking someone else can be included in the challenge), but also because I'm quite likely to write 250 words on how fantastic Britney Spears is. Not a statement that I think he would agree with, unless fantastic meant naked. I'm not one hundred percent sure what his first few posts on this have been about, but I'm going to hazard a guess that they have included films and drinking. I'll be shocked if I'm utterly wrong about this.

To fill up some space (and to anger you Andrew) here is my top 5 Britney songs...

1) Gimme More
2) Hit Me Baby (one more time)
3) I'm a Slave for you
4) Boys
5) Heaven on Earth

As Andrew has just appeared downstairs, beer in hand with an incredibly plastered look on his face, I have just been reminded of something else that he is actually likely to have included on this, Doctor Who. Apparently this is a new waste of time for Andrew, and it is all he has watched now for two days straight. Perfectly reasonable thing to do, even if it is his final year. (Yes Andrew I can use sarcasm in blogs too. Idiot.)

This plastered look has now turned to smug. I'm not sure why, and to be honest I doubt he is. Perhaps he has just urinated somewhere in public and is very proud of it. If he's this pissed and we haven't got to the LCR yet, I think it's time I started my catch up drinking.

x x x

Day Four: Really Reaching

There's a key process to getting drunk. There are many many factors that have to be taken into account. Food is important. Too much, or to little, can either make all the booze in the world stop you from getting drunk, or cause you to vomit everywhere.

Then you've got a couple of other factors, like sleep you've had, where you're getting drunk, and who it's with, and the finally, the booze.

Ah, the booze. Beer is quite good, because it's easy to drink and slow to release, but to really get fucked up, you'll need some spirits.


[Some time later]

IKII Ma drunk as a fucking cuint fuck you all

we are playiong ring of rfire of some shit.
I am the bwest fuck you all.

I am the fucking master of frets on fire, you don't have shit on me/

Fucking 96 %% experrty s level, no problems. Been kicking ass and taking names hjusy becaue I can. you can't do shit.

Alsod I can play evcne when I am the drunkest man in the wotrdl, because I am awesoem
I acant play well, byut UI am stuikl,l fantastic, you c an do niothing.
Will probably threow up later

one too many dhots of vodkat

what the fuck man, ytoo drunk for this nonsense.
I DDONT care if this is 250 worsds
I am posting this now and wqill do again in when I get in.

also I am fantastic

woo yay, catch you dudes later

woo

cuntburger