All 5 entries tagged Blog Entries About My Friends
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August 11, 2005
Writing about web page http://blogs.warwick.ac.uk/howesn/
Nick Howes is a man of many talents.
However his most noticeable feature is his love of milk, I know that living with him is going to be a pleasureable experience simply because our fridge will never fail to be stuffed with this white gold that I too have a great and, in many ways, terrible thirst for. The love of milk is entirely grounded in scientific fact and very powerful advertising, which, as we know, is better than scientific fact.
Nick Howes is also a Lance Corporal which should mean he brings a sense of military discipline to the other slack jawed yokels I'm forced to cohabit with. Freeing me up for a few of my favourite pursuits , which is excellent. Nick can also lighten up even the darkest of evenings by imitating Police Academy's Michael Winslow with impecable timing. What a useful chap he is, and with the right wiring should be able to keep our home secure as well! Magic.
A poem about Nick
That guy on the news,
Had none of your flair,
He took an unscheduled cruise,
Sailed right through the air,
The poor chap hit the floor,
While trying Parkour.
That's why I'm no Nick,
While playing the loon,
He never misses a trick,
He's so cool,
Makes me look like a fool.
Thats why I'm watching him now,
As I tighten my grip,
I see him milking a cow,
One little slip,
Where'd he get all those cows?
God bless you Howes.
The best thing about Nick though, is that he loves making things, be it games, £10 pound note t-shirts, or wild photoshop antics he's always creative and thus great, and truly inspiring to have around.
Lance Corporal Howes; I salute you.
(Sorry about the delay on your application form Nick, beaurocracy and all that)
April 04, 2005
Writing about web page http://blogs.warwick.ac.uk/mmannion
So, the other evening I watched one of the most godawful movies that ever managed to wangle its way into production. The premise, was a cross between Commando and the good parts of 2001: A Space Odyssey a not unattractive combination. Yet somehow I knew things wouldn't unfold quite so promisingly, cunningly nestled, as the whole enterprise was, under the banner of; Universal Soldier: The Return. Starring the acting talents of Jean Claude Van Damme and WWF wrestler Bill Goldberg (managed the line; "I hate that guy"), featuring a suicidally insane reporter and delivering the most gratituitous strip club scene ever. The punning was rubbish which was unforgivable, but as with all incredibly bad movies, it was immmensely watchable (and not just because of the strip club part).
Anyway, I seem to be really, very, totally near to finally wrapping up the practical part of my CS project some 3–4 weeks late. I really suck at coding, hopefully I'm proportionally better at writing and can accelerate the production of my, so far barely considered, final report. This has been occupying my time to a hideously large extent and I expect its still rubbish because in the end I'm just not that good at coding. Though by the end of this I'll be better than I was before I started and thats something to take away with me. Nietzschean y'see.
I also watched another of the endless '100/50/10/The greatest/best/essential/worst/rudest songs/films/tv/people/80's ever' shows that seem to populate our screens with considerable regularity. Hoping to match my current favourite in the genre, "100 (or 50?) greatest power ballads" with a new contender the promisingly named "50 greatest comedy sketches". Indeed the show did contain many excellent sketches, but as always the rankings were skewed by current flavour of the month voting. Such that 'Little Britain', despite being only averagely funny, placed very high overall and took the top spot with a hardly uproarious sketch about a swimming pool. The show did, however, inspire to start jotting down any sketch ideas that I had forming in my head into a little book so I can retain my comic genius for future generations.
Also, the new Doctor Who was about 60% awesome 30% cheese and 10% chav/charve (for you righteous newcastle fellas). I loved psychic paper as the ultimate low budget sci-fi prop.
The real reason for this blog however is to express my man manly love for my dear housemate Mat. In our house of trouser, Mat's door is closest to mine and oft times I can hear the dulcet tones of his beautiful singing voice or the comforting tippety tap of his typing toes floating through the thin wall that divides us (and handily stops him from seeing me dancing around naked). Now as I sit at home with only my own (admittedly stunning) voice to listen to, I realise how much I love my good friend Mat in a man manly way. I've tried sticking an exam beard and phallus hair on my brother but its just not the same.
No, dearest Mat, you are truly the only fellow who can melt my heart in a single t'd Mat way. If I ever have some trubling network issues or a desperate need to print out a large size picture of my face, you are there with your amazing technical wizardry. You press buttons and keys like you are caressing a beautiful man (not me of course this is all very man manly) and soothe even the most persistant and troublesome of computer woes. Your are truly my most foremost technical wizard (in a 5 meter radius).
Yet, let us not pretend you are a master only of all things digital, for while the width of your widescreen television is matched only by the girth of your enormous schlong, there are many more dimensions to your friendly household Mat. For a start he continually beats everyone else in the house with his amazing console game skills, even recently topping the F1 league in the competition he designed. Wait, that sounds a bit suspicious, I assure you he is completely above board and just happens to be very good at all things game related and particularly F1. Yes.
Mat also introduced us to our sixth and most attractive housemate; poor Milena, when will she learn to control that hosepipe. I believe this reveals only a chink of his true powers for Mat is in fact the darkly mysterious superhero; Lady Killer Stud Biscuit by night! Yes, many are the evenings when we are all sitting around or getting ready for a night out and Mat has to rush away for some not-quite-convincing reason. Well, my dear blog readers, this is not because he just hates our fat ugly faces, no indeed. Mat is in fact rushing off to stir the beating hearts of lucky ladies from across the world. Its frankly difficult to keep track of all the ladies who are in love with Mat, I know I can't remember all their names and I'm awesome. Sure sometimes they seem to get him down for a while, but one thing you can count on, before the month is out there will be another thirty or so willing womenfolk desperate to get a piece of the stud biscuit to dip in their tea.
He's also a bitching nice, funny guy and a kickass friend. So I wrote him this poem:
I love your name,
So does my cat,
Your photo in a frame,
My dearest Mat.
So much easier to rhyme,
Than friend Natalie,
Plenty of time,
To read Lady Chatterly.
You keep me warm,
Amongst the hay,
Your manly form,
Really, I'm not gay.
Your guitar skills,
Are based in the air,
But they still give me thrills,
So I don't care.
You're a lovely chap,
My dearest Mat,
So don't get in a flap,
Keep wearing that happy hat.
In an entirely separate note, I appear to be the pope for a month. As my first command I would like to appoint Mat as official pope for the week and hand over my other prizes to him because frankly as an evil hell child I'd make a terrible pope.
And to continue the game of Charades, a film, four words:
Keep it awesome.
March 30, 2005
I decided that Colin was asking for a beating, and what better way than through the ancient art of the stickman?
Watch and learn.
Did Colin escape? Or was he destroyed by the awesome force of awesome? Who knows… It is in fact a mystery, and a mysterious one at that.
February 20, 2005
Writing about web page http://blogs.warwick.ac.uk/nataliebarton/
So Natalie is great and stuff. She's been a real good listener for me these past few weeks despite me issuing a fatwa against her. So to celebrate her greatness, and see if I can swell her head to the same size as mine, I made this whole entry all about her:
The great thing about Natalie is she has this long fringe thing going on which means she often can't see where the hell she's going. This makes her easy to confuse and terrible at Darts. Do not play darts with this woman.
Natalie also has a hot sister called Sally, apparently she thinks Sam is attractive so she obviously has excellent taste (I'll get to you later you big man stud). Sally you're awesome. Sally, Sally, Sally.
Natalie also has a friend who like to lick things called Christine. I like Christine. Hi Christine! You can start reading my blog now.
Here is a poem about Natalie:
In Praise of Natalie
My dearest Nats,
There are people who say,
You don’t wear enough hats,
But everything will be okay,
As long as you eat up your bats.
Oh fabulous Natalie,
When I think of you and books,
My brain answers ‘Lady Chatterly’,
You always give me those funny looks,
Maybe I should set you free.
My angelic dancing bird,
They say its wrong to keep you in a cage,
But I don’t care what you’ve heard,
When you are my age,
You’ll look back and… probably weep uncontrollably.
Natalie, Natalie, Natalie. One of the great things about her is the way she's not my 3rd year project, she absolutely has nothing to do with code and couldn't be less of a mounting pile of essays I haven't finished if she tried.
Keep being awesome Natalie (and not a 3rd year project).
December 05, 2004
Writing about web page http://blogs.warwick.ac.uk/svboulby
I just noticed that everyone on the planet who isn't me is an utter twat (except you Natalie, you are delightful, let me kiss you all over. Oh Natalie! Our love is like that of the shakespearean tragedies; beautiful and epheremal). Welcome to another edition of Sam Hates. Mother. A quick picture of me as I'm about to choke the philosopher Berekely:
You know who's a really big twat?
I hate Jesus. Universal love? Give me a giant fork up the ass instead.
Jesus you are going on The List. While I'm at it lets add fun. I hate fun. I hate you as well, all of you (Except you my darling, beautiful gorgeous Natalie. Let us elope together and escape to mexico where we can't make sweet passionate love under the stars forever. I had forgotten the sweet touch of your delicate hand. Ah! Its like golden fairies playing on my face), you're all going on The List. The List? I hate it. I'm putting The List on The List.
Time for a poem about Arnie.
Your muscles make me think,
Of that incident with the sink,
When my pet dog Hend,
Became more than just a friend.
Your witty, clever puns,
Are better than the Huns,
Nobody can touch you,
Without needing a tissue.
You have now gone into politics,
but I can't forget your timeless flicks,
Maybe I'm suffering from a witches hex,
But I desire you for anal sex.
This weeks competition will be to come up with a name for my new baby (Oh Natalie make love to me again and we will raise a whole brood. Oh again! again! MOTHER! Er… I mean Natalie! I didn't mean it. I don't know why I said that! Don't leave… please I am nothing without you, a broken shell of a man. No… Natalie… please) I stole the baby from some poor people because I'm rich and like to steal from poor people. Ha.
Just time for some Reader's emails.
Email 1: Dear Sam,
Your blog is getting progressively less funny. Please stop the rot.
My response: Dear Madeup,
My blog is the best thing in the universe and provides me with a constant source of lifeblood. Do you know I haven't missed a day in a squillion years? How good is that? Oh bloggy you are always there for me with you comforting cloak of darkness. I'm not losing it (Oh Natalie, Inside I am now empty. I'm losing more than just my mind. My skin is falling off).
Email 2: Dear Samuel,
Why do you hate everything? I didn't bring you up that way. Come back to me my darling boy. I ironed your pants just the way you like them and I'm cooking your favourite meal.
My response: Dear Mother,
Erm… You are not my mother… Ignore this email readers. Obviously a spoof. Everyone knows that my mother hates me and locks me in a cage. Ha ha ha, yes. But I'm tough and I escaped. Thats exactly what happened. (Mother I will be back home soon, I miss you loads. My Natalie has deserted me like you said she would. You are the only woman for me now. I'm sorry about the bad things I said about you. Forgive me.)