I Wanna Be A Student

OK, so it’s been three years since I started,
And three years since I stopped it
So technically I should’ve finished by now
But instead I’m only just ready to begin.

Hey, it’s not my fault my brain wasn’t in the mindset of your average eighteen-year-old
I was just doing what I was told
Fitting in the mould
Out in the cold
Helplessly watching this sequence of events unfold

The world was waiting for me but I wasn’t ready for the world
So I just popped down the road for a bit instead

But now it’s three years on
And I am really really glad of where I am now and what I’ve done
But really, honest and true
I’ve done what I’ve done and now I wanna do what I wanna do

I need to cut this dead-end job
Of monotony
Going out of my mind, I might need a lobotomy
Maybe look to astronomy
To decide if I continue with my work in the field of cinematography
In a place where I could do crazy shit like getting drunk and playing Monopoly
...’til 3am

And yes,
I’d like to be poor
And be in debt
And live in a box room
That I’ve just got to let
And bump into people in the halls who I’ve never even met
And have a multitude of good times I’ll never forget

Except, of course, excessive amounts of alcohol will unfortunately force me to forget

But it’ll be the best
I can be pissed all the night
I can be hungover while I write
I can balls up in the edit
I can max out my credit
I can sleep through the day
I can act even more gay
I can say what I’ll want to say
Because nobody will know me

And that thought really scares me
And that’s what really thrills me
And I hope to God it’ll be what fulfils me

And even if it doesn’t
Having a clean slate should be fun
Sure, I’ll be the old guy, the twenty-one
Amongst eighteens
But in between all the caffeine and the baked beans
I can at least be free

Instead of trapped, not working to the full
Instead of wrapped in cotton wool
Like I have been for oh, so long

Maybe I’m totally wrong
Maybe it’s not me
Maybe it’s not my “scene”

But anything’s worth a go
If it seems like it could be better than this hole
Better than thinking and writing it all down with this pen

Dammit,
I wanna be a student again!

The Grand Proof-Read of 2011: I'd like it to be known that this is pretty much the original starting point of my ventures as a writer. A slightly amended version of this garnered a fairly positive response in an early Creative Writing seminar in my first year of University, some two years after this was written.

Why Can't People Take A Day Off From Shopping?

I only ask since I would prefer a day off from working!

Anyway, enough of peasant life. Bring on the rant about nothing.

I really actually have nothing to say here. Then again I always begin by saying I have nothing to say before reeling off paragraphs of crap that suddenly seem to occur in my brain and travel down through my fingers and into the appropriate corresponding letters and symbols in order to make them make sense... or not make sense as the case may be.

But since it's past the midnight hour and the folks would like to queue up for their shopping at 9am on the dot, I'm afraid I shan't be staying long. It's just too much to keep my eyes from closing.

I just wanted to keep this place barely alive and un-neglected as I so often do with it, and hope to give this place a big boost before the end of the year when (if all goes as planned which it never does because plans [especially plans made by me] oft go a wee bit fooked up) I hope to FINALLY be able to create and post video clips to the Tube of You, thanks to an almighty super-computer with the appropriate capabilities to do such things.

Until then, my channel looks fairly empty, apart from several favourited videos (made by other people who aren't me, don't ya know?) which include what appears to be the German version of "Spitting Image", that video we did for college where I end it trying to sell vodka whilst having suffered the detrimental effects of a pitch-changer, and that one from a Russian documentary with a drunk guy in the background staring at the camera and falling over.

All this joy (and more, yes I've favourited more of this shite) can be found here, this link, you know... this purpley bit which redirects you to another corner of the Web if you click on it... go on, click on it.... it won't bite.

Getting Spherical In The Cube

Unfortunately I was rather horrified at what I was watching since the X-Factor got upped to live auditions, nay but seven days ago.

So there I was, thinking my Saturday nights of televisual pleasure would be ruined for this autumn. Luckily I was saved by the orange face of Philip Schofield and the "credit crunch" Crystal Maze of the future. And no, I don't mean in a crazy-ass 'futuristic zone' kind of way. I mean where all the games take place in a giant perspex cube using the same props and features supery-dupery amazing slo-mo camera technology which makes the whole thing look like it was lifted straight out of The Matrix. Because without the super technical tomfoolery, the games are essentially "THROW A BALL INTO A BUCKET!" or "PRESS A BUTTON AT THE RIGHT TIME!!" and even "WALK IN A STRAIGHT LINE!!!"

What I love about "The Cube" though, is how seriously the show takes itself when it's quite clear how... erm... what's the right word to use here.... 'CRAP' the show is! The booming voice adds too much seriousness to the tackiness of the game. Even when the contestants run out of lives (you know, like Mario) the evil voice, which is known as "The Voice Of The Cube"... apparently (despite the fact its just some guy in the back with a Dalek voice-changer and a crazy-ass echo effect), booms out "Contestant Defeated!" They might as well just make it a game of Life or Death meaning that once they run out of 'lives' they literally run out of life, hearing The Voice Of The Cube booming out the last words they'll ever hear, "Contestant Annihilated!" before some freaky gas gets released into The Cube and the contestant just dissolves right before the audience's eyes!

Might be fun to watch several times over in super slo-mo Matrix mode too.

Nursery Rhyme Mash Up!

Inspired by others, merging the musical stylings of "The Wheels On The Bus" with that one which goes "three in the bed and the little one said roll over"

Oh, the wheels on the bus said "cross over, cross over"
So the wheels rolled over and the wheel fell off.

There were six on the bus and the little one said "roll over, roll over"
So the bus rolled over and one fell out,
There were five on the bus and the baby on the bus went "wah wah wah,
wah wah wah, wah wah wah"
The baby on the bus went "weh weh weh"
All day long

There was five in the bed on the bus on the bed
And scary girl on the bus went "whisk whisk whisk,
whisk whisk whisk, whisk whisk whisk"
Oh, the scary girl in the bed on the bus on the bed with a whisk said "roll over, roll over"
So they all rolled over and one fell out
And fell into the toilet with a "whisk whisk whisk,
whisk whisk whisk, whisk whisk whisk"

There were four in the bed on the bus on the bed
And the baby on the bus went "roll over, roll over"
So the bus rolled over and one got whisked
And the wipers on the bus went "swish swish swish,
swish swish swish, swish swish swish"
Oh, the wipers on the bus got "swish swish" whisked
All day long

Oh, the scary girl with the whisk in the toilet in the bed on the bus on the bed went "OMG! I'm a scary girl with a whisk in the toilet in the bed on the bus on the bed! MWUNYAHA!"
"whisk whisk whisk,
whisk whisk whisk, whisk whisk whisk"
While the baby on the bus went "wah wah wah"
So they all rolled over and the whisk fell out
And I forgot how it ended so instead
I just got whisked down the toilet by the scary girl.

The Little Angel And Devil On My Shoulder

Holy crapple, I haven't been here for a while. See I knew this would happen since... you know, THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS! I start a blog for about a month or two then neglect it entirely. Anyway since this place hasn't been updated since two days after my 20th anniversary of life, I think it's time to dust off the cobwebs of the last month and a half and bring you the goings-on of my run-of-the-mill, "nobody cares" existance (I mean seriously, is anyone reading this? I think that's why I always stop, you know).

Anyhoo, update imminent:

Nothing.

Oh wait, actually one thing, I'm forgetting how long it's been since I've been here and just realising I've left out the entire month that is July. The most important thing: I actually had time off work! I mean shops are nice places to go when you have money, not as exciting when you want to get money. But still, I spend my days in the realms of public relations for the purposes of building character, gaining the trust of my fellow humans, having something to generally just do during the day and the ever important wage slip providing me with much needed booze money.

Although quite frankly I think I need to behave with my drink now. The thing with me is I always try to look at the positives. Point in this case being that because I'm such a lightweight I don't have to spend so much on getting my brain all whacked out on the sauce. The downside to this, however, and I mean this sincerely, is that what few friends I have are at risk of me driving them away with my not-so-subtle affection for each one of them.

And I've likened it to having my conscience as the little cartoon angel and devil on my shoulders. All the time I'm sober I follow the angel being all nicey and such, but the more I drink, the more the angel gradually fades away before consequently disappearing for the rest of the night, only to return the morning after smacking me in the head with a harp and furiously asking me what I did last night. Well, what did happen 'last night' was the little cartoon devil finally got a look in when I drank several pints of cider (which from here on out will be referred to as "Devil Juice") and fell in love with all my friends and close acquaintences. During the love-fest I attempted to... I think the technical term is "get off" with several of them. Occasionally people of both genders... at the same time...

Failing that, I concluded the night screaming along to "Sex On Fire" by way of karaoke.

But yeah, I think the little devil side of me is actually a big whore, and a bisexual one at that, but I keep that repressed and locked up inside as the consequences of unleashing it onto the world in a sober state would be so horrifying I can't even imagine. I mean it's be worse than the invention of "All-American Turd" flavoured ice-cream.

So yeah, now you know me a little better.

In other news, (thinking of missing out July) I became an uncle for the first time last month since after a long and gruelling pregnancy my sister finally sprogged one out for the team. The little nephew is so cute and little, I didn't think it were possible for me to have such gushy and girly emotions... then again, I wasn't drunk and trying to get into my male friends' mouths at the time. Anyway, since he's not my child I don't particularly want to put too much here so as the respect the privacy of other people's lives, so yeah, that's that.

Pretty much after all that, college is over for the summer and more work hours have come my way, leading to infrequent bouts of mild depression and boredom. Although I've come to realise that the best in royalty-free music that's piped over the store's sound system (a system consisting of a shed-load of songs being played for hours on end with the system set to "Ultimate Random Play All") has a horrible way of drilling itself into one's head. Songs, which I have titled in my head since nobody knows the real titles of them, range from "That Crap R&B Song With The Fanfare At The Beginning" to "Crying Woman" (who actually sounds like she's crying, obviously). The ultimate cheer-up song though (and as I found out yesterday seems to work as a hangover cure as well) is the one that's probably called "Everybody Needs A Robot" by Anonymous... probably? I won't describe... I shall leave thee in suspense, especially since the only way to appreciate the sheer awesomeness of the song is to listen to it first-hand.

Anyway, I ramble, but lately I've found myself growing strangely hooked to this year's Big Brother-a-thon, in which some 374 attention seekers do ker-ay-zehh stuff just to be on telly. In amongst all the weirdness I was most dis-heartened to see everybody's favourite (or not-so-much favourite as it turns out) Pakistani fashion designer slash airhead, Hira to be mercilessly kicked out. I mean she spent 5 hours eating a cupcake and didn't have a clue of what was going on half the time. Alas, they always get rid of the funny ones. And besides, my unhealthy Big Brother addiction is only causing me further delusions that maybe I should apply to be placed in confinement with a shit load of uber-camp gays, butch-manly lesbians and various other stereotypes (as well as the token Indian guy so Channel 4 don't look racist) and show them all what for! Either that or I'm actually just an attention seeker who wants to persue a modelling career by appearing on reality TV... which one am I? YOU decide!

But really could you imagine that? "Day 42, Jamie is in the bathroom, pickin' his nooose" (all in an exaggerated northern accent). 

The Grand Proof-Read of 2011: "Everybody Needs A Robot" is performed by one Matthew Ebel, whose album "Goodbye Planet Earth" contains many hits from the sound system of a discount retail chain.

Dancing Is My Remedy, Remedy, Oh

Well it isn't really but does lead me to the main topic of this postie-piece.

The beginning of the year brought the musical stylings of one Little Boots to the forefront of my attention. Naturally this attention to one particular act after listening to one particular song eventually fizzled out much like an indigestion tablet in a glass of water, leaving a bit of a cloudy mess in its wake.

The recent happening of my 20th "bon anniversaire" celebrations (which incidentally involved a Mexican lunch, bird puppet rape, late late night outage and bowling with mummy) prompted me to flick on the old iTunes to download the album I've had the intentions of purchasing but not obsessing about.

Two days on and so far I've listened to it only about 27 times. And as with any collection of the same songs over and over again, one does tend to pick out one's favourites. Hence the blog title.

I also so pleased that the song in question (it's Remedy btw, just realised I haven't mentioned it by name) will be the next single by the little blonde beauty. Even though I have no interest in singles and would never buy them (I mean, why pay for a song when you're only gonna buy it again alongside a collection of others?) they do tend to get other people recognising them and stuff.

Oh dear, I'm suddenly realising I've run out of steam on this one now and besides it now just seems like an awful lot of praise for a small aspect of the music industry... which it actually is, in all honesty. Maybe I should wrap up now.

This be Wrappage...

Feelin' Hot, Hot, Hot!

IT'S TOO F**KING HOT!!!!!

And as a cursed ginger, my skin doesn't like the sun! I only come in two varieties: pale or RED! And since neither is socially acceptable to walk around in public I must remain hidden under mounds of clothing, thus just making me sweat out and cook in my own juices... don't worry, at this rate I'll be ready in time for your Christmas dinner.

Anyway, I come to you on the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of the 20th anniversary of my birthing. (And yes, that is accurate, I did actually count the number of times I pasted what I copied.)

So as you can imagine... well, nothing really. I'm not that big on birthdays. Well, I am on the basis of other people's birthdays in which case I'll make them feel loved. As for my own birthday, I couldn't really care less and get exceptionally annoyed when people try to make me feel special and loved for one day a year!

The escapades with the video camera operating trying-to-get-working-on-a-computer fiasco...ness has taken a backseat for now. Not just any back seat, I'm likening this to the back seat of a bus or a coach... you know, the like the row of five seats right at the back that you try to get when you're the first on the coach for a school trip somewhere...

I've come to realise that after all the madness of spendage and wastage of money on certain electrical items which haven't helped in the slightest, the next thing on the list to try is just yet another cable type thingy (but this time, a different cable type thingy... oh yes)which will only set me back about a tenner. But hey, I really can't be bothered right now. What with the antics of the last month or so.

Excessive amounts of college work, topped off with excessive amounts of supermarket work, with a side helping of illness thrown in for extra measure. Incidentally, the illness came immediately after a night of moderate drinking and settling with what I have come to realise is one of my favourite annual guilty pleasures, that ole Eurovision Song Contest. I've actually noticed myself in the days afterwards (I was hopelessly trapped in bed with nay but this 'ere laptop for company after all) was how addicted I was getting to it, and how many rather strange beings out there (stranger than myself which is what I find strange) had managed to upload every single video of a song onto Ye Olde Tube of the You variety within mere hours. Needless to say, I had violins in my head for days afterwards and a tendency to burst into mock-French singing with added throat 'gargles' (for want of a better word) just to make it sound authentic. In hindsight, I guess it did help with getting rid of that excess phlegm from my week long cold...

Anyway yeah, that's pretty much it from the last month... up to the point where the industrial air conditioner in work is now my new best friend and arms are on the pinkish side of a glorious "don't-slap-me-there-or-I-swear-to-God-I'll-cry" sunburn.

I just realise that if I wanted to sign off with the initials from Hardly Amazing it would read "HA". That's not to say I find the fact that you read this entire time-wasting post absolutely hilarious, it's actually me just ending the post. Although I do find it rather odd that anyone reading this would actually read all the way through a random person's blog post. I guess that's what the Internet was invented for. Someone clearly never took mummy's advice when they we're told to "never talk to strangers".

So HA!

...

It came today...

It doesn't work with the current connections on the laptop

insert sad face