All entries for October 2004
October 29, 2004
Fact of Life no.429
If you are doing work with a friend who does a different course to you then their reading suddenly becomes the most interesting thing in the western hemisphere despite the fact that you read the prospectus cover to cover and didn't want to do any other course except the one you are currently doing (except you really wanted to study it Bristol cos of the really really fit girl/boy/tree you saw on the open day).
Case in point (which does relate to the rest of this entry, trust me). Monday I was trying to cram as much useless information about 15th century peasant life into my brain as possible whilst resisting the irrestible lure of Niamh's intriguing looking reading on the subject of masculinity. History vs Gender & Cultural Studies. Tricky one.
But part of Niamh's reading (although she was actually reading my book on peasants over my shoulder) was entitled something along the lines of Homo-Eroticism In Sport. Anyway this led to
Fact of Life no.128
Sport is so ridiculously gay it's funny!
It is. Seriously, where else do groups of people of the same gender grope, grab, run into and generally get very sweaty with each other? Obviously mixed badminton is a bit of an anomaly (although medals in Olympics are good) but it's a bit rampant. Often it's not even the obvious stuff, it's the non-playing rituals, the team huddles before the start of the match, the kissy-huggy celebrations, the adoptions and other stuff.
Wednesday 27th October 2004.
The Union has recently been giving clubs heading to the same or similar universities a large coach to share (as in bus, not trainer (as in coach not shoe)) and this put Warwick Women's Football 2nds on the same bus as the an unnamed men's team. In terms of the game we got beaten (6-0, ouch) and I managed to mess up the muscle in the back of my right knee. All of which put me on a bit of a downer for the 1 1/2 hour bus ride home. However, never fear, entertainment was on the way in the lovely form of the the unnamed men's team boys.
If you have only ever encountered the these boys topless at Score trying to pull Netball Girls and Cheerleaders then I can tell you that you have seen nothing of the ingeniousness of this club. I can't name the club though. I can't. Honest. They were, and there's no polite way to say this, licking squirty cream and chewits off each other's naked backs. Apparently they are normally totally naked but in deference to our female-ness (or possibly cos they were slightly scared of us) they wore trousers. Cos that makes it better y'know…
Anyway this cream based sight was to be beaten as the losers of the competition (ah yes, there was a competitive edge, you had to lick that cream faster than the others) had to eat a pepperoni like those dogs in 'Lady and the Tramp'. By this point I was sure I was viewing some sort of case study from Niamh's degree. In fact if she wasn't so good at football she could have been with us. It's her own fault for playing for the 1st team.
But what struck me the most was that as they returned to their seats (and thoughfully picked up any mess they had made) they were throwing around the phrase "gay" as a jokey insult, completely oblivious to the irony of it all. I'm not criticising this, in fact I found it hilarious, but it did seem a bit weird. Do they not realise? Are they in denial? Can we go on the bus with them next time? Please. Oh go on, it was funny.
No we are not going to do this at our club…
October 25, 2004
1) Niether of us can spell.
2) The Daily Mail hates us.
3) We vote Lib Dem but feel that we should really vote for someone else.
4) We like Gordon Brown.
5) Nether of uss can spell.
6) We are much larger than other examples of our species and this can make travelling on trains and buses tricky.
7) There's so much more to us on Saturday's…
8) …but on Sunday's we are very different.
9) Niehter fo uss kan spel.
10) We have drifted to the rest of the country via Manchester.
11) We like Steve Bell.
12) And Zoe Williams.
13) We annoy people who disagree with us.
14) We occasionally admit when we are wrong.
15) Enitrhe fouss nac lspel.
16) We don't smoke cannabis (see: Why Me and the Independent Are Not Meant To Be).
17) We think it should be legal.
18) As long as stoned people don't irritate us whilst stoned.
19) My parents like us.
20) We can't be bothered to be communist.
However touching me will not leave newsprint all over your hand and the Guardian, as far as I'm aware, can't play bass.
Excuse me, I'm off now as I have realised that my knee has not stopped bleeding even after two hours so I'm slightly concerned…
There are some things I really shouldn't do. One is get into debates about politics. In this particular argument I am a distinct disadvantage as, although I have my political beliefs and morals and stuff, I don't actually have a political party that represents me. Hence I wade into debates without the sweet certainty of people who have a party or person they support.
Weirdly I see this as a disadvantage on my part but not in others. I am quite willing to concede on certain points when I agree with whoever I am arguing with and I will change my mind if presented with enough evidence that what I thought before was flawed. Although sensible in real life, in arguments I can, sometimes, come across as looking a bit weak. However people should be open to changing their minds. George W criticised John 'Lurch' Kerry for "flip-flopping", as if this was a terrible thing. What's bad about admitting you're human and can make mistakes and change your mind. No one is 100% right 100% of the time and anyone who thinks so is an arrogant, self deluded idiot (Bush as an arrogant, self-deluded idiot, surely not…)
I'd like to be a proper Marxist. At least then I could blindly argue in favour of communism. But I'm not, I know all people aren't equal so an ideology that treats them as such is not a valid one. However capitalism is too callous and confers advantages on people which are unwarranted (born into money? well done, you win forever and ever!). Liberalism is too hands off and socialism is too hands on. The Greens are too unpredictable and the Monster Raving Loony party are too predictable and I can't vote Plaid Cymru cos I'm not Welsh and don't know anything about them apart from that, and the BNP are bastards and the SNP are weird and the North Irish parties annoy me beyond belief.
In this world where we can pick our own pizza topping from any one of 2.65 million toppings (at last count at Pizza Hut) why can't we pick our own politics? Mine would be red peppers, four cheese, spicy chicken and sweetcorn.
So when I come crashing into an agrument on politics with a blend of ideas, a penchant for sarcasm, a reasonable dislike of anyone further right than Tony Blair, a reasonable dislike of Tony Blair and a curious fascination with Alastair Darling's eyebrows (where did he get them from?) please ignore me. I'll only get irate and shouty and ultimately I know, and this is the worst bit, I'm not going to change anyone's minds.
Personally I preferred this blog when it was all football results and sarcastic rants about Westwood.
October 23, 2004
As predicted, a sudden dowpour whilst on the way to Tescos to buy microwavable popcorn (forgetting that I don't have a microwave) resulted in my canvas shoes letting in water and my feet getting wet and irate. The time had come for NewShoes. The horror, the horror.
So I had to go shopping and as I can't shop alone I decided to take my gimp, Niamh, with me. Well, she likes a nice trip out into the real world occasionally.
…with that interesting bronze bull mascot outside (which we discovered is fun to play on), has shops. None of these shops have size nine shoes but we did find one which, after much trying on of various shoes, yeilded a somewhat oversized pair of size eights which somehow fitted. I am wearing them now. Whilst putting my feet on furniture. I'm a rebel I am.
And it's not my furniture. Due to my gimp letting me into Music Zone (I told her not to…) I now need to work and earn back the money which will be useful in paying my tutition fees. Damn government. Damn Music Zone. Damn furniture.
Got to be better than one fool I know who won't earn any money for another three weeks despite working, as she reversed intop a Porsche. Whilst the driver was in it. She is also a gimp. Everyone I know is a gimp. Do I know you? Then you are a gimp. Well done.
So, as ever, work was informative, I have learned that the drugs I take for my migraines are very very very strong and should only be taken by people with the stomach of an elephant, the blood of an athlete and the toes of Trinny and Susannah. This could explain why they knock me old cold in 45 minutes. Seriously, no sexing up or anything. Anyway, back to work, back to reality…
Oi Gimp, put that down!
Can't take 'em anywhere…
October 22, 2004
"Right, and where are we again?"
Bet this never happens to Liverpool. Or even Bolton Wanderers. In the Midland League we essentially have to do most of the hard work ourselves and this includes getting to and from away games in a little convoy of cars. Home games are even more entertaining as various people cycle, drive, moped, get driven in by parents or (in my case) walk the mile or so from my house.
But it's not easy to get to an opponents groudn when they don't even give you accurate directions. Even a football beginner with a degree in Idiodicy (MSc) from the Univeristy of Dim Twats (formerly Thick-As-Shit Polytechnic) can tell that you can't play football in the carpark of an industrial estate. It was almost certainly not Tyburn's fault although considering that if we don't show up then they get three points and we beat them 13–0 last time, you wonder… No you don't. I've seen the website they used for directions and crap would be a compliment.
Anyway we lost everyone and everywhere. A bit of luck meant our car (me, the central defence and one of our midfielders) found another of our cars which seemed to know where we were going. Just about. Of course when we got there we foudn we were at the wrong pitches and that the pitch we were at was being used by Liverpool FC Ladies' team. So maybe it does happen to Liverpool. Who knows.
After a quick bout of getting changed (and a muderous debate about who got to use the only working toilet in a million mile radius- I won) we ran onto the pitch… and accelerated.
Ah yes, the cliche of non-league football, the doyen of town planning, the slanted football pitch. And it was noticable, almost ridiculously so. But it was better than our pitch which I had briefly glimpsed before we set off for Tyburn and could only be described as muddy.
So we kicked off. And, with a full team this time, Tyburn were a hell of a lot better. Unfortunately it was clear that they weren't going to win the game, but they put up a better fight, especially after winning the toss and choosing to play downhill in the first half. In fact they played so well that, though I didn't have to make a proper save, after 35 minutes it was still 0–0. After 38 minutes, however, it was 3–0. In less than three minutes the game was over, firstly a hopeful ball into the area was met by Adeline whose fantastic volley looped into the net. It would have been the goal of game if just seconds after the restart a foul on the edge of the centre circle was the cue for Jenny to smash a perfect freekick over the head of the Tyburn goalie and into the net from 35 yards out. As if to show that a goal a minute wasn't impossible, Laura C then latched onto another ball into the area and buried it.
At halftime the rain threatened to make life miserable but fortunately it decided against drenching me for the second time in a week. Good thing too, as the second half, although seeing our lead doubled through Leanne, Ana and Laura C again, the game was over. Tyburn had expended themselves in a relatively dynamic first 20 minutes and Leam couldn't keep up the tempo either. I didn't touch the ball in the second half, although being uphill gave me a nice view.
We did find our way home eventually.
October 20, 2004
There have been a speight (love that word, probably spelt it wrong) of blog entries about how single many bloggers are. Maybe if we stopped blogging and got out there we wouldn't be single. Mind you I tried that and it didn't work so what do I know.
What do I know?
1) That there was Whig influence in the Glorious Revolution.
2) That I need new shoes.
3) That I can't cook anything more complicated than cheese on toast.
4) That I don't have a microwave which didn't prevent a brain lapse resulting in me buying microwave popcorn which I can't eat no matter how much I want it.
5) That I didn't put the bins out last week,
and most relevant of all
6) That I am single and I can't be bothered to care anymore. I win.
October 17, 2004
Acceptance to Warwick.
Congratulations on gaining the necessary grades to get into the University of Warwick. Congratulations to us for getting you to give us £1150. Congratulations to your parents on gaining extra storage space at home.
We have looked at your application for accommodation and decided to place you in Westwood which according to our records was your 147th choice of accommodation. Unfortunately we could not find you a place in your 146th choice, the recycle bins outside the library, due to us letting in too many people in clearing.
We have checked your records and designated you into the following category:
No Chance Of Getting Laid
This was based on careul analysis of your personal statement, your academic achievement and, mainly, the photo of yourself, we tricked you into sending us.
Therefore we are putting you on a corridor in Gosford hall with other people who will not get laid but if anyone asks it is officially a Quiet Corridor. We know you requested a lively hall but tough.
We are also putting you in a room with another person. This is a temporary measure. This person was initally judged to be, like you, in no danger of getting laid. However this was due to her having a boyfriend at the University of John O'Groats (previously North Scotland Polytechnic). He will however be dumped as soon as she discovers how easy it is to go to Score and pull a topless, inebriated rugby lad. As soon as she starts doing this however we will have to move her as her getting some will upset all the hopeless virgins we put on your corridor. Ha ha ha.
Our records show that you consider yourself to be "an easy going vegetarian". As a result we have decided to reduce the vegetarian option on Westwood to three leaves of lettuce and a carrot (raw, unpeeled) at a cost of £37 per portion. Try being easy going after that, plant murderer!!!
You will also be delighted to know that we put you on a corridor with 3654 science and maths students. They will get increasingly stressed as term goes by about having to get up for 9am on Tuesday after Top Banana. Our records show you study English. This means, come Reading Week, all the scientists will love the fact your 4 1/2 hours of lectures a week have been cancelled. To make this extra fun we have decided to double their hours during Reading Week.
Below is enclosed your Westwood Information Pack.
Welcome to Westwood,
We aim to make your stay at the delightful Westwood (aka the Wilderness) as fun and exciting as possible. Please check your acceptance letter to see which hall you are in. Below are some adjectives to describe each hall:
Bericote Mysterious, Unknown, Inexplicable, Sort of Pointless in a Strange Sort of Way, Beige
Compton Pretentious, Twattish, Noisy, Sexy (well, they think that), Doing it With Your Girlfriend/Boyfriend/Both Behind Your Back
Dunsmere Drunk, Rowdy, Tribal, Cult-like, Zombified (mornings only), Liverless, Loud
Emscote Smug, Condescending, Luminous, Insomniac, Corrosive
Gosford Quiet, Lifeless, Boring, Victimised, Abused, Borderline Psychotic, Virgins
Hampton Self Obsessed, Self Satisfied, Self Loathing, Self Critical, Will Self
Knightcote Weird, Backward, Contrary, Peverse, Scary, Mad, Stalkerish, Inverted
Loxley Arguementitive, Thieving, Overly Imaginative, Gruesome, Illegal
Check which one you are in. Then remember that we do psychologically profile everyone and that the descriptions above are you, they are. Ha ha ha.
Once at Westwood you can collect your Westwood card which entitles you to a limited amount of food. Remember that when the government tried something like that with asylum seekers they had to withdraw it after protests.
We hope your time at Westwood will be one of the best of your life and what bits of it you can remember will remain with you forever, no matter how much herion you take to try and forget.
October 15, 2004
I owe Max Hammond a cupcake. I am lame and have yet to rectify this. So here's what's going to happen…
Max, I have it on reasonable information from Coach Stu that you go to Raffles* every weekday at 10.30am, or thereabouts, for food. In this case I think you should pick a day of the week which isn't Tuesday** and there will be a grand handing over of the cupcake ceremony on that day next week and everyone's invited.
*Why doesn't Raffles do the coronation chicken bagette anymore? Why? WHY???
**For Tuesday is the day I have pretty much half my weekly lectures, classes and seminars on one day. Evil.
October 14, 2004
What does everyone think of the fact that small groups of people appear to be posting comments on certain other people's blogs with considerable frequency and reliablility? Is this the sign of a developing community or is it the first step into inevitable clique-i-ness?
Whatever it is, it is happening. Sam, Natalie, Carter, Zhou, you know who you are. Could this be the first step in the establishment of the new government for the new world order? Can I be Chancellor?
Sound of the Day no.1
This is the sound of our doorbell when it rings and lets us know that there are people out there, in the wild world of Roo Loo Spoo, who want to enter our house, sit on the sexy leather sofa, juggle using the fruit from my fruit bowl or conduct sexual relations with various members of the house who all the share the common feature of not being me.
However it is a fancy wireless doorbell which would be fantastic if it weren't for the fact that the rest of the street all have these same bells and therefore crossed lines have occurred. The doorbell rings when the people next door get a visitor. Bo-ring and we go to the door and there's no one there. Unless it's someone who falls into one of the above categories or Housemate:Els who should probably have her keys stapled to her forehead to stop her losing them.
We did have some trouble with friends drunkenly ringing the doorbell late at night but we solved this (well Housemate:Els solved this) by pelting the gimps with eggs. Simple and effective.
Sound of the day no.2
This sound means many things. It emanates from me when I stub my toe, fall off the climbing wall, remember that I've forgotten all my course notes and my lunch, when I run too fast and pull my groin muscle.
It is the sound make when I go to the door after a nice, loud Bo-ring and find someone actually there (they aren't there for me, they're there for housemate loving) as opposed to next door.
It is the soundtrack to me discovering just how much food I've left in the fridge past its sell-by date.
It's the sound of the underground godammit.
Sound of the day no.3
Boop boop boop boop boop
This is the sound of Housemate:Boz's alarm clock. It goes off when she needs to get up and do something like sit around the house wondering how she ended up living with us or write in her blog (Boztastic which I'm plugging in the hope she will not kill me when she reads the rest of this). It also goes off when she's not here but then it goes off, loudly, for absolutely frickin' hours. It wakes people up, it sounds like a lorry is reversing into my room and I live above her! It annoys. Kill.
Boop boop boop boop boop boop
"Too early, I don't have to get up now"
"Hol, can you get the door?"
"Yes, one minute… Hello?"
"Hello, I wish to have sexual relations with someone in your house who isn't you."
"Yeah, we have people who fit that description here… this way."
Boop boop boop boop boop boop
"What's that noise?"
"Yes, I think I've dislocated my head whilst beating this alarm clock to death but it was worth it."
"Excellent, now if you'll excuse me I have a date with a housemate."