Blog 46: What To Write About?

I made some promises in my last blog post and I still think it would be well nice to get to 50 posts on New Year's Eve, but I actually have NOTHING to write about, so expect some filler type stuff that's not particularly great for a bit...
I watched the Notebook last night (or some of it). The person I watched it with, called Kathi, promised I'd want to turn it off after 15 minutes and I thought "no I'll give it a fair chance I'll watch the whole thing and judge fairly at the end".
After 15 minutes I wanted to turn it off. It was rubbish. I literally DID NOT CARE what happened to those two people AT ALL.
In fairness I didn't know what was going on 'cos fortunately kathi was there to talk to me; if I'd watched that much of that film on my own I would literally be dead right now, on the student sofa in my student flat, dribbling blood out the side of my mouth and with my lungs and kidneys coughed up on the floor in the corner. I really didn't like that film.
The only bits I remember from it is two old people and a fat lady in hospital, then a man lying in the road and having to run out the way of a truck (who made no attempt to slow down, which was interesting, cos I would've sped up if i knew the film coulda ended sooner) and the couple nearly having sex in a cobweb house and then two people doing a synchronized dive when being hit by a bomb. I also remember a man who had a surfboard tied to his back asking a nurse out, and I remember he said "You should know, I'm a good dancer and my intentions are completely dishonorable." Sorry half burnt cadaver boy but you ain't gonna score by telling a normal girl that you wanna go out with her purely for sex, especially when you're mostly made of bandage.
Then I remember the other man builds a nice house, and she gets proposed to by the cadaver man when he's better, who's played by cyclops from x-men, and then there's a really cool jazz guy on the stage scatting, and then I remember getting quite angry and going "I REALLY DON'T WANT TO WATCH THIS" and so we watched the beginning of Blade (which is really cool, despite being basically rubbish) and then a bit of the Mighty Boosh Live.
That's my review of the Notebook.

Blog 28: Life - Phase 2

University has begun. It's official. I'm halfway through Fresher's Week and I'v discovered that with a new life in a new city comes new rants, which is a bit of a relief because I haven't done one for AGES.

Anyhoo so I start my year at university with several induction talks. One of my first ones is scheduled at 11.30, so I turn up at 11.27 to find the course tutor telling everyone how this sort of lateness won't be tolerated. I look at my watch, and it says 11.27...ok so maybe my watch is wrong, I'll just fix it and then it won't happen again.

THEN he says "the sheet clearly says this began at 11.20". I look at the sheet. It clearly says 11.30.

So what, shall I just make up the times? How am I meant to know it starts at 11.20 when you told me 11.30?

So my first task at Uni is to work out what alternative time zone my tutor is living in. I know I'm quite far north compared to home but that wouldn't advocate a difference in time zone.

Anyway, then we had a talk all about something; I wasn't really paying attention because the two women giving the talk were about 50 and both had bright red hair. One was also named after the main character in Toy Story, and the other ran around the lecture hall Jerry Springer style choosing people to ask questions even if they didn't have any. I'm pretty sure she fancied herself as the next big comedian, even though NOTHING she said was funny, it only provoked looks of a quizzical nature. She even at one point said "I feel like Jack Dee!" to which I muttered, "Yes but you're not as funny."

Anyway, the Joker twins kept up this charade of a talk for 45 minutes, through which I sat, frustrated that we were being talked to as if we were 5 years old or something by Tweedle Dum and Dee from Alice in Wonderland. It reminded me of the same sentiment I felt on holiday at a camp for 16-18 year olds when a man with a wig and a flashing badge popped up one morning at breakfast claiming to be "Professor Sandwich". He then asked who remembered him from 5 years ago and two people in the room embarrassedly raised their hands in the air. Well at least two people sort of got the in joke then. He carried on his children's entertainment whilst I grew more and more annoyed that I had survived 18 years of life and GCSEs, AS and A levels, Rugby matches, stalkers, work at a supermarket, and yet I was still being treated as if I was literally a 2 year old with an awful sense of humour. He then proceeded to make a sandwich with ridiculous condiments such as toothpaste, and then eventually ate the entire thing, quite quickly, which the made him feel ill and he fell to the floor behind the counter, and some of the more sensible leaders hurriedly began to give out instructions in a brave and well-meaning but nevertheless futile attempt to cover up the unmistakable sound of Professor Sandwich being sick.

I didn't finish my breakfast that day.