Nighty Night

A Preview

Like a child needing to poop in Church, evidently I just hate staying still. Today is the day to visit Chippenham, a decision made last night that will not be cheap but shall be rich in ceremony and alcohol. New Years is upon us and it’s time to forget this year ever happened, and so I have decided to take upon an offer laid before many eons ago by the sumptuous and highly ephemeral Thomas of Vlietstradom. His wisdom and evident beauty are beyond most mortal’s comprehension.

I told you I could write fiction.

It would be a lie to say I was sad to see this year go, whilst 2010 was the year of my gaining confidence, through getting involved in University and respective societies, enjoying finally being single, and actually appreciating the skin I’m in… 2011 was the year a lot of this sort of slipped under; I made more than a few ill-judged decisions, feel still that I let people down and couldn’t be all that I think I should have. There were also experiences I would never wish upon anyone. Things perked up towards the end; feeling settled in a new country, making new fantastic friends in Germany, but I see these happy moments as more a preview of what should hopefully be coming in 2012 rather than an achievement of 2011. So yes, hopefully, with new achieved confidence I can look forward to the new year, and if my life continues to work in alternates, then 2012 will be a fantastic year, just in time for the world to end and we all end up in some Mayan death thing.

Err… Happy New Year Everyone!!

I’m gonna be a cowboy! xD

An over-eager pussy.

The smile is a lie. She's an evil bitch.

Listening to music like Adele is dangerous, you end up feeling like everything from drunken hobo to loyal letterbox has somehow wronged you. Only I can’t belt out my worries over an adulterous toaster.  The London glue has gripped me tight and wriggling will only make me sink further, thus bringing my brief life of transience to a temporary close. A few random days again in Guildford allowed me to reach the point I was seeking; when the novelty ran out and it became everyday life. A lovely catch up with Claire in Pompey and then a bizarre night in Camden, and now I’ve returned to the London suburb whence I first emerged. A life I would find peaceful were I not allergic to the buggering four legged critters so innocently dubbed as “cats”. They are evil I tells ya, from fleas to sneeze they are out to torment me.

And they spray. Everywhere. Nothing in this house even belongs to them, they have bought NOTHING yet have the audacity so spray? Presumptuous little tarts.

I have also ruminated over a decision for long enough and the choice taken still feels like an impulse buy. My return to Heidelberg has been delayed by an interesting 48 hour period. The eve of my return was a joint birthday party for two exceedingly important uni friends, to which I had been invited but had to decline. A big event, everyone was getting together for it, so I acted on the impulse of latent immaturity and have rebooked so I could spend the night with everyone. Logically it would’ve been wise to save the cost and wait until my return, but I guess that’s love for you. I’m not going to pretend this is a grown up decision, but rather a young boy trying to have it all. Hopefully the smiles and laughter will be enough to send me off with a more stable head. I’m also going on the monday as 1) ’twas cheaper and 2) my hungover german is even less comprehensible than sober.

The fires of Pompey

Me. If I could successfully grow facial hair.

Ow. Ow,  ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, oww… I am 9 words into my blog and that is all I have to say. It had slipped my mind that hanging out in Guildford with a certain friend I am not allowed to name for Legal reasons, can leave one’s slippery mind more than a bit inebriated. I am refusing to look at my bank balance. It’s currently 7.24 am and I have been asleep for just under 5 hours, crashing somewhere in the region of 2.30. I think. It might have been 3.30. The sun had set, I remember that much.

ANYWAY, so yes. Good night out and in with this certain fellow. And Holly, never forget the wonderful Holly who joined halfway through the evening, and proved that it doesn’t take much to coerce a chav into dropping his trousers. Much to our mocking amusement. In a couple of hours I shall be heading out to Pompey, another place I only vaguely know through alcohol-induced greetings. Time feels different when the sun is lazy, it’s 7am but feels much, much earlier thanks to the lack of sunlight. Waking up when it’s still dark almost always fills me with a tingle of excitement, I assume this is because it reminds me of leaving early in the morning to go on holiday when I was but a wee lad. Either that, or I am in fact a truly nocturnal animal who sees darkness as an opportunity…

This time last week, Claire had come up from Portsmouth to see me (a surprise I still value) so I am merely returning the favour, gays get tentative if we don’t return favours, that’s why intercourse is such a give-and-take experience. Moving on, it shall be a wonderful day and hopefully my intoxication the previous night (which based off my sideways wobbles into walls, is not cured) shall not require any hospital visits that’ll negatively affect the day. I’ve received a few anon messages recently asking why I don’t philosophise about random crap anymore, to which I answer that I shall, I am merely saving up all my philosophologicabilitisationalness for another time. I didn’t realise anyone even paid attention to my musings, even less so to request them… Plus, most of this blog’s “philosophising” (an unfittingly complimentary term) is focused on the universe of Germania, which is a bit difficult to comment on when in England. You wouldn’t want me to just philosophise about any old thing now, would you? Why, that’d make me a philosophy whore!!

“I had to rescue her because she was stutch.”

Talk about over zealous anxiety! Yesterday was absolutely lovely, I was on my quiet streak which was probably a blessing and instead got to listen to all the different adventures and encounters my relatives had enjoyed. Quite boring thing to blog about, I know. Blogs are for talking about yourself, a stream of eulogistic self-consciousness that I have proven to be quite good at rambling about, and thusly it’s so exceptionally nice to be able to listen to a million voices at once, all telling what is essentially the same story; the tale of what has changed them this past year. Talking of change, it is time to devote an ENTIRE SENTENCE to the changes in little Ben and Maya; two cousins born within 6 weeks of each other, both have now hit the two year mark and have changed so much since I last saw them, to have a (albeit gobble-de-gook-infused) conversation with something that you held in your hands just a while ago is more a sign of life’s gift than anything else on this earth.,Big up, chest-punching love to the kids and their deservedly proud parents.

The next few days shall be travelling days!! For I am off to Guildford this afternoon, before hitting up Portsmouth tomorrow to then be back in London for Thursday. So apologies if my blogs become even more drivel focused. Have a good’un, pesky bloggers and we’ll all try to go down one notch on the belt before we see each other again!

Which boxing gloves do you want?

A bulging sack that's bigger on the inside.

There was a child crying that he wanted a dog for Christmas. But instead he ate turkey just like everybody else. Hope you scallywags enjoyed a most wondrous christmas day and stuff. Wasn’t The Doctor Who special just so wonderfully… average.

So today is boxing day, and most who knows me is aware of how I feel about this. For reasons unclear I always meet this day with anxiety; it’s traditionally the day the whole family comes together. This should be an occasion of joy and festivities but rather I feel it’s one of inter-family comparisons, of brotherly sizings, and awkward conversations… these feelings are pretty unjustified but every year I find myself unable to shake it off. The best advice is to “be yourself”, but myself is someone I kept secret from my aunts and uncles for many years. The acceptance of this self is still vague in many respects and I find such ambiguity makes me behave very unlike myself, I feel I behave churlish and peculiar. I certainly do not, at any point of the day, relax. Inexplicably, I feel many still view me as the emotional 14 year old I once was, so I find myself deliberately trying to change this opinion, and end up saying things that incongruous to the situation. Also, we happen to host every year now, which I feel puts the house, my parents and of course, the cats, under great pressure.

Thankfully each year generally goes pretty damn well, especially when I hear of other eventful reunions my mate’s FB statuses (shouldn’t that be statusi?) reveal. And there are of course things to look forward to about seeing everyone so hopefully I shall have the chance to focus on that. May be on later to revel, or mourn today’s proceedings.

What day is it?

Even Goku in the background is Christmassy

What are you doing even reading this?! Go away and enjoy some Christmas cheer! Go on, bugger off!!

As it stands, Christmas is here, presents are opened and laughter has been had. The turkey’s now in the oven and the cat’s are getting hungry.

With a good haul, a merry cheer and some champagne on the way, this is looking to be a very special day.

Have a fantastic Christmas, whatever your view, idea or plan should be. Be thankful for those you have and they will be thankful in return, remember those you’ve lost with a fondness and be glad you had the times together. Think of the people who are not blessed with the same good fortune as you, and remember that today should be the day of all days, that you make the best of yourself.  Get drunk, be happy, and don’t take away from anyone else’s joy.

Ich wünsche euch allen einen tollen Tag!

Bubble butts

My first Christmas Present, thanks to the Mosley. =)

And so ends my week in Guildford. I have caught up with, and possibly over taken, many of the people I’ve missed so much. There are still people on my list, so don’t think you’ve gotten away just yet. First, however, I have to deal with that Christmas thing that everyone seems so fussed about. Walking through Guildford showed many a curious image of Christmas, the most evident one being Nativity images that showed Christ as, not only Caucasian which is a joke in itself (think Osama Bin Laden for a better Jesus impression), but that he is an extremely able bodied and independent baby. Images show the infant as wide eyed, cheery and capable, ignoring the fact that being a newborn, Jesus would’ve been weak, blind and absolutely dependant; which I believe to be just about one of the most humanising and powerful aspects of the to-be Messiah. To make him as a baby somehow God-like, takes away the whole point of the story, whether you believe the tale or not.

I have also recognised another thing that I really hadn’t missed whilst living in Germany; sagging jeans. Don’t get me wrong, I’m as perverted as any other sexually unfulfilled man, and seeing a pair of perky butt cheeks is hardly going to make my day any worse, but the arrogant swagger one has when struggling to keep his jeans up is just embarrassing. Despite the potential comedy when they have to run for their bus, sagging jeans is something I will always associate with being a knobhead. A knobhead who somehow thinks he’s being rebellious or against the curve, or that revealing his skidmarked panties, somehow makes him hard. Maybe if it became public knowledge that by doing this they’re giving gay guys the perfect chance to check out their underwear, the twats might learn to tighten their belts.

Anyhow, it’s home time now. I’ve had a fantastic week back in Guildford, from the catch up drinks to the ball basting dance floors, it’s been brilliant. It’s Christmas eve, I am packed and… yeah, I’m ready. I wish you all a happy holiday.

PS. I am also now severely depressed after originally trying to write “sexually unfulfilled teenager” and realising that it no longer applies to me.

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