Wednesday 15 February 2012

Accept my emo-rage

As I type this, it is exactly four hours and forty-seven minutes until I am 25 . . . mid twenties . . . quarter of a century . . . . . . . . . I wish I was dead  . . . not like I have a considerable amount of time to wait if Logan's Run is to be believed.  I think it is fair to say that Logan's Run is the undisputed best sci-fi film, followed by Flash Gordon, and then Star Trek: First Contact.

And so, to Star Wars fanatics everywhere, I state;


I must confess that I do find it worrying at how little time seems to affect me.  See the picture below; on the left is me as a fresh-faced seventeen year-old partaking in under-age merriment at Chandlers Bar all the way back in 2004.  On the right, me in November 2011, aged 24 and three-quarts.

My parting has switched sides . . . that is all.
The lack of aging process, my apparent 'ludicrously' pale face, the fact that I spend most of the day asleep and that sunlight puts me in one terribly foul mood makes me consider whether or not I am some form of vampire . . . but alas, if I was, it is quite unlikely for a vegetarian vampire to last twenty-four years, three-hundred-and-sixty-five days and nineteen hours.  I shall have to muse on this some more.

Well, I suppose the consolation is that I can look back on February 2012, my final month of being 'early-twenties', with a great deal of fondness (it's almost strange how I can hear Adam shouting 'GAY!' at this point).  It started off with definitely the best gig I have been to, seeing the blues-rock duo - and John on the keyboards, lest we forget - the Black Keys.  There was some reason which I can't quite remember that it made more sense to stay in Chesterfield for the eve, so I took my stuff to my dear sister's house, got changed, picked up my phone, camera, keys, wallet, and headed out to meet Adam at the station . . . within walking distance of said station, I had the awkward moment of realising my ticket was in my bag at my sisters house.

Y'know it's bad when someone often referred to as 'Number One'
thinks you are a failure . . . 
Still, "alls well that ends well", as the popular saying goes, and whilst I had to endure Adam shaking his fist and hoarsely muttering 'dead' at me with a worrying lack of blinking for the train journey, he ended up thanking me for the delay as it meant we didn't have to tolerate the Band of Skulls for as long.  Indeed, my awkward moment of confessing the reason why I was delayed was in no way comparable to the sense of shame Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney caused - nay, committed! - when they returned to do an encore of 'I Got Mine' attired in Robin Hood hats (as the gig was in Nottingham).  The reaction of Adam and myself was something as follows.

Errr, Adam, your hair is a 'mare to do on Paint >.<

It's been very rare of late when I am not blessed with the company of my girlfriend/arch-nemesis Melissa nowadays.  In fact, it's becoming evident that we spend too much time together; mainly because she comes out with far superior "thats what she said" jokes than I do and I am particularly bitter about this.  Still, I'm not grumbling about the amount of time we spend together - far from it, in all honesty - because it means I get to witness first-hand some of the absolutely brilliant quotes she comes out with.  My ultimate favourite 'The Menzzz Moment' is tied between these two crackers.

1) "Y'know on the train to Loughborough . . . we go passed those big towers that give out a lot of steam.  Well, I thought they were cloud generators".

2) After googling animal facts. "A crocodiles tongue is attached to the roof of its mouth? B-but . . . but how does it talk?"

justwow.jpeg
Along with many of the other awkward moments mentioned in this post, the most 'O_O' experience came on Valentine's Day, when Melissa and myself gave each other . . . the exact same card. Now like most couples, we were up late on the eve of Valentine's Day.  Unlike most couples, we were eating pot noodles and playing a food-making game on an iPod that was clearly rigged . . . because I lost . . . and how.

On the subject of Valentine's Day, being the kind and compassionate soul I am, I thought I'd think about two close friends who are single on this day and wish them both a happy Valentine's Day.  The replies?

Gareth: "Get bent!"
Adam: "DEAD"

Sometimes, I don't know why I bother.

Hmmm . . . I think I am just about out of enthusiasm, so I shall depart by asking you a question which has long troubled me.

Can zombies swim?

Until next time, where I shall be covering the topic of 'ethnic banter'
I bid you adieu.

Thursday 2 February 2012

Skyrimmed

Another day, but sadly no dollar, as for the fourth time in a row I've been told that our department isn't needed in work.  You'd think I'd be happy, which I almost am, but then I'd pass up a brilliant opportunity just to have a moan about things, and I'm not happy unless I have something to moan over (which, if you consider the concept, it makes absolutely no sense).

Today I have actually been relatively productive, for a bizarre change in fortunes.  Oh yes, I have been dealing with my estate agent, who I have slowly come to realise - if not particularly tolerate - is what many would class as a fool, and so I've been trying to sort things out with that.  Yes, this 'Vicki' (note the sickeningly infantile way it's spelt with an 'i' at the end; all the signs were there from the off) seems to delight in making things as complicated, frantic and disorganised as possible.  Needless to say, I'll have the last laugh, my vicious retribution shall be merciless.  In the dead of night, I'm going to break into her house, tiptoe up the stairs, slink into her bathroom and . . . squeeze her toothpaste from the exact middle of the tube - because everyone hates that - and write in big letters on her mirror;

"Michael Silk is not to be trifled with"

Now that will get the message across perfectly

Furthermore, I've wrote a chapter (well, I lie - its a few paragraphs and then followed with some bullet-points of what else I will include) of my book, filled in the puzzle on the back of my box of Choco Shreddies and then spent a worrying amount of time fuelling my Sims Social addiction (and then stopped that due to having a distinct lack of friends willing to help build my extension) and so ended up doing a blog.

Now, you may notice that Skyrim has not featured in my list of activities.


Oh not you again Jean-Luc.  Why must you haunt my blog so? 

Why exactly, you may ask.  Well, I think recent events have proved that I know far too much about it.  Take this weekend that has just gone, for example.  T'was the first time that me and Melissa had spent a full weekend together.  Now Melissa had previously claimed that Skyrim was "boring" and the only good part "was riding the horses."

"Challenge accepted"


Unfortunately for me, I told her my plan of action when I first heard her blasphemy.  I sent her a text message containing the following;

"Skyrim is awesome.  Let's make a deal, when
you stay over I'll do all the fighty bits and
 I'll let you ride my horse :) x x x"

That awkward double-pokerface moment . . .


I then probably made it even worse by clarifying that I was innocently just referring to riding my Skyrim horse and nothing . . . . *ahem* else.  Unfortunately though, this is not the first time that I have transgressed into the realms of what shall now be termed as "Skyrim-smut".  Here, without any exaggeration, is the best text message conversation I have ever had; it started out innocently enough with me moaning to Tim at the injustice vegetarian diners have to endure, and then ended up referring to someone's - to protect his dignity, he shall be referred to as 'Esteban', and his unsuspecting victim shall be known as "Tobias" -  ultimate faux pas in Claire and Tim's living room using nothing but Skyrim terminology (NB. Those of a nervous disposition should look away now . . . and mother, I apologise wholeheartedly for the level of immaturity involved here).

Me: Gah its so demeaning being made to order something called a 'Tree Hugger Burger' -_-
Tim: what your tree hugger burger from maccy d's like your tree hugger breakfeast?! :P
Me: Oh no I've learnt my lesson, sort of. The Tree Hugger Burger is from Walkabout . . . in Bungalows and Bears they do a Hippy Burger. Harsh!
Tim: GOD DAMN HIPPIES!!!!
Me: Melissa claimed my veggie wrap thing looked like vomit in a bap . . .
Tim: They normally do . . . I say just eat meat. Skeever with vampire dust and bone meal topped off with lavender.
Me: Chicks dig bone meal.
Tim: Hoping to get vampire dusted afterwards!
Me: "Esteban" vampire dusted in his pants.
Tim: And our sofa!
Me: It looked like someone had just cleared out Morvath's Lair in your front room.
Tim: And then danced all over the Jarl's table about it!
Me: "Tobias" had a load of ectoplasm in his hair.
Tim: All because of "Esteban's" dream of glowing mushrooms, Nord minstrels and an Argonian waitress.
Me: That "Esteban", always trying to get the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller away.




"And yes, we both realised afterwards that we are sad, depraved and yet awesome in equal quantities"

So, these factors combined mean that I should spend less time trudging the troubled province of Skyrim, making dragon-skin rugs for my miniscule house . . . oh actually, that reminds me, I just saved up enough for that house in Markarth . . . . . . . . . . .

Brb, Skyrim