The Diary of a Self Confessed Waster

2005-02-12T03:32:00.000Z

The O.C. makes the baby Jesus cry :(

Well, maybe not, but it almost makes me cry. It's been a while since I last updated this, and there are a number of reasons for this. I had previously been writing about events in my life which had been largely irrelevant in the great scheme of things, and talking about my feelings only when they were painfully obvious, or a source of great comic relief. Unfortunately, my life had reached a point where the things that were happening, and which I wanted to write about here, were things which I didn't want the people involved reading - it's all very well pretending that you don't have a problem with someone's behaviour, but you can't really do it while telling the world exactly what you think of them in a journal you know they're going to read.

Luckily, I've managed to move on from this (I won't say unscathed, but I'm holding it together with the aid of prescription medication and large quantities of alcohol), and I'm back. Hopefully this time for good, although I'm not making any promises. I am, after all, inherently lazy (which opens up a whole new realm of possible reasons why I stopped writing). I'm going to start with a quick round up of the last year, and then move on to the big picture.....

..... So Claire got another job and moved to London, with her boyfriend (anything you're not following, you can probably pick up by reading the archives). This was a little disappointing, but in a way something of a relief. I couldn't really see myself and Claire having a proper relationship, so it was really a question of whether we were going to sleep together or not. My ego says yes on this point, but I think it's a lot closer to call than I'd like to admit. As it turns out we didn't, which I now think can only be a good thing. I'm not nearly mature enough to do that and then not kick up a huge fuss when she decides to stay with her boyfriend, and she's not nearly stupid enough to do anything else. That obviously wasn't the end of the whole "fancying a girl from work" story though, as even before Claire left I was beginning to become infatuated with another colleague, Mel.

Not wanting to break from tradtition, Mel also has a long term boyfriend (it's something of a habit with me), and had given me no idications that she was at all interested. I got on really well with Mel, and definitely wanted us to be good friends regardless, so I went to great lengths to conceal my feelings from her. Unfortunately my immaturity once again connected foot and mouth, with the result that every time I had a bit too much to drink around her, I'd tell her how much I hated her. Talk about overcompensating. Suffice to say it's fairly difficult to remain friends with someone who you are constantly informing that you despise them. This culminated in us having a blazing row at the office Christmas party (I actually have no recollection of these events, so am relying on the testimony of others) while she was on the phone to her boyfriend. I did apologise profusely next time I saw her, but we haven't spoken nearly as much since then. The real kicker to this tale is that a week later, when I was out with a different group of colleagues, one of the managers in our office assaulted me because of my behaviour at the party.

*** Aside ***

I'm reasonably sure that he actually assaulted me because he doesn't like me, and because he has the IQ of a particularly stupid hamster, but the events at the previous weeks party were the excuse he needed. Fortunately for me he's as incompetant at dispensing a beating as he is at everything else, and I came out of it without any serious injuries. That's another colleague added to the list of people who avoid me at work.

*** End Aside ***

Since then I've pretty much kept my head down at work, especially as far as the ladies are concerned (although to be perfectly honest, this is as much to do with running out of attractive ladies as anything else), and I'm hoping to be moving on to another job in a different office ASAP. I've applied to a fast track promotion scheme, and have made it through to the final stage of interviews. These are scheduled for the end of March, and if they go well I should be moving on to better things by September. Fingers crossed.

For people who know me well, or who have read a lot of this journal, they will be able to identify with this as a running theme throughout my life. Its true - I have a horrible tendancy to screw things up wherever women are concerned. I'm not entirely sure why this is the case (as far as I'm aware, I wasn't abused as a child and I don't want to have sex with my mother) but it's starting to bother me. The confidence is gone, and if I'm being perfectly honest it was about the only thing I had going for me in the first place. It turns out that while women don't particularly like arrogant men, they like scared men even less. To make matters worse, my female friends all hate me as well (for much the same reasons my female colleagues hate me), which means there's no chance of me getting a good reference if I make a pass at one of their friends, and even less chance of them actually setting me up with someone. Not that I'd be interested in that sort of charity anyway. Honest.

Please?

Anyway. I've arranged to take time off work at the start of March, and I'm intending to go to London for a few days. The excuse for the trip is that I'm going to play in a Magic tournament, but really I'm going to visit friends. Andrea, a Canadian girl who I met when I was over there a few years ago, is now living and studying in London. I haven't seen her for about 3 years, and the last time I saw her I left her crying on a platform at Waverly train station in Edinburgh (her version of events - I didn't realise she was crying, and was pretty sure she'd be glad to see the back of me). The plan is to spend most of the time hanging out with her, but also to look up a friend from school who is also living in London, and Claire (of course).

Speaking of Edinburgh, I moved into a flat here in September and haven't tidies the place once since then. Environmental Health keep coming round, but the piles of rubbish are preventing them from gaining access. May have to actually do something about it soon, as the fumes are beginning to interfere with my sleeping patterns. My brother is also now living in Edinburgh, a mere 5 minutes walk froim my flat, and we are getting on much better now that we hardly see each other. Seriously, he's a decent guy but if you spend more than 20 minutes in his company you just want to kill him. In the most painful way imaginable.

And people say that we're very alike?

2004-02-08T22:40:00.000Z

Just a Little Bit of History Repeating

I've been meaning to update this since I got back from Amsterdam, but I've just never been in the mood. Sometimes it feels like I have nothing to say, but I'm writing anyway just because it feels right. Recently, it's been the exact opposite - there's been loads of things I've wanted to say but I didn't know where to start. I guess this is what they mean by writer's block, but to be perfectly honest I think I've just been tired. Anyway, I've started writing now and I have a feeling this is going to be a long one.

Although I had a good time in Amstredam, it didn't go at all as I had thought it would. I'd been intending to go on a four day binge, attempting to blot out the world with copious amounts of alcohol, but when I got there I realised that I wasn't in the mood. I think a large part of this may have been to do with the people I was with, and their attitudes towards drugs. Now don't get me wrong - I have nothing against drugs, and nothing against the people who choose to use them. What does annoy me is the way the certain kinds of people make a huge deal about the fact that they're using them. People who I normally have no problems with suddenly become incredibly annoying, not because they're wasted on something, but because they're wasted on something and they really want you to know it. Stoned people aren't the best company anyway (if you're not also stoned that is), but stoned people who keep telling you every 2 minutes how stoned they are, are a total fucking nightmare.

Regardless of the reasons, I spent a lot of time in Amsterdam hanging out with Bradley, Fodda, and Jon (who, despite the previous paragraph, could really do with a little herbal relaxation) as well as the English guys I was staying with. I speak to these people all the time online, but I rarely get to spend time with them in the real world, so it was good to just hang out and play some cards.

The weekend after Amsterdam, I went out for drinks with Claire after work on Friday. After several cocktails in the Hard Rock Cafe, I called Stu and got myself invited to a party at Karen, Sandra, and Michelle's flat. Despite my low expectations (I've attended parties they've organised before) it was actually a pretty good party. This may have had something to do with me being pretty drunk before I even arrived, and it may have something to do with the bottle of wine I drank once I got there. However, I like to think that it was entirely down to the excellent company - even Sandra was nice to me. Towards the end of the evening, I found Lucy's Bon Jovi album, so there was a massive singalong - say what you like about them (it's traditional to do so using words of no more than four letters), but they did make very good songs for drunken singalongs. I also pulled a girl called Kirsty, more through a lack of effort on my part than anything else. While she was quite pretty, she also had a bit of a belly on her. She had really nice eyes though, and she was doing most of the legwork so I figured it would be rude not to go along with it. Unfortunately she didn't want to sleep with me (of course I asked, what do you take me for?), so I left and headed back to Edd and Stu's flat. On leaving the party, we discovered a homeless guy moving himself into the girl's stairwell so I was forced to call the police and ask them to move him on - my already low sympathy towards the homeless drops to zero when they start talking about Cuba and World Socialism. Did he think we were going to sit down with him and offer to distribute our wealth equally?

Last weekend I went shopping with Neil, and then went to Pete's 21st birthday. After a curry and a few pints, we ended up in Faith. I actually hate going out in Edinburgh on a Saturday night, since everywhere is so expensive. Faith proved to be no exception, costing £7 to get in and then £14 - £17 for a cocktail pitcher which contained about four drinks. We spent most of the evening sitting in the VIP lounge, which was actually quite nice (although still not worth the entry fee). I was made to look incredibly stupid in front of everyone else by some girl, although I'm not entirely sure how it happened - I stood on her foot accidentally (once again, I was quite drunk) and she responded by twisting my arm up between my shoulderblades L.A.P.D. style. Obviously I took this to be a come on, but this assessment turned out to be way off the mark and she took the opportunity to shoot me down in flames. This would have been infinitely more disappointing had she not been wearing the shortest skirt in existance, and been too drunk to notice that I could see right up it the whole time I was talking to her. Nice underwear, but she could have done with a trim.

And so to the important stuff

I was out on Friday night with people from work, as one of our training staff had moved to a new job. Once again we'd been to the Hard Rock for cheap cocktails, then on to the Hogshead to meet everyone else. After an enjoyable evening, people left at what I thought was a ridiculously early hour and Claire (31, ginger, ex-english teacher) and I headed into the grassmarket to continue the drinking. And then I pulled her. Actually, that's not strictly accurate as it was her who initiated the kiss, but it makes for better storytelling. She then started crying, said "No, I love my boyfriend", apologised and ran out of the pub. I didn't really know what to do, so I ran after her - I couaght up with her just round the corner, and tried to calm her down. There was more kissing, more crying, more talk of her boyfriend. Then more kissing.

How do I get myself into these situations?

2004-01-15T04:26:00.000Z

And the Winner is...

Who knows? Who cares? The important thing is that it's not me. Anyways, I leave for Amsterdam in just under 3 hours, and its feeling like 4 days of drunken debauchery are exactly what I need. Anything to get me head straightened out (although it would be more accurate to say "returned to it's normal state", as I was never the most balanced of people). I'll talk more about this when I get the chance.

And my head really hurts at the moment.

2004-01-13T21:42:00.000Z

Vulnerability

Having spent the better part of my life trying desperately not to let those around me see what I'm feeling, and always being careful not to get too close to anyone, it's rather strange to lay it all out there and not know how the story is going to end. It feels as if I've stepped of the high diving board, blindfolded, and now that I'm committed I can't remember if there's water in the pool below me or not. I'm a bit worried that even if the water is there, the landing is still going to sting a fair bit.

I went out for dinner with Caoimhe on Friday night, and then we toured the pubs of the grassmarket (she'd never been in Finnegan's Wake before) before realising that on a Friday all the landlords in Edinburgh are complete rip-off merchants. We ended up in the student union, sitting in the coffee/coctail bar. Things seemed to be going well, and there was definitely a lot more physical contact than there had ever been before, although there was nothing to make it totally obvious where I (we?) stood. I find it incredibly annoying that I am totally unable to read any kind of signals from a girl when I'm actually interested in her - it's so much easier when there's no emotional involvement. Anyway, we head back to her flat and we both fall asleep on her sofa, wrapped in each others arms (awww, I must be going soft), and I wake up only slightly late for my train to Glasgow.

In Glasgow, I take a taxi to the passport office (although it turns out to be a 2 minute walk, the taxi driver isn't kind enough to tell me this and starts the meter running at £1.80 - when I get out it's reached the giddy heights of £2.40) and hand over my forms and debit card. I'm amazed by the amount that they charge for a passport anyway, let alone the extra because I want it within 4 hours of applying on a Saturday - it's like they don't want people to leave the country or something. I then head off to the shops, having arranged to meet Stu and go see a film. Unfortunately this doesn't quite work out as the film is too long for me to watch it and head back to the passport office before it closes, so we book tickets for a later showing and head off to play some pool, killing time before I have to collect the passport. They'd actually managed to complete it in less than the 4 hours, when I'd actually expected there to be somethign horrendously wrong and for them to say I'd have to return the next day. Lucky they didn't ask any questions about extremist militant groups on the application I guess.

We then head off to meet Edd and Shades, who are coming to the cinema with us. The Last Samurai was *AMAZING*. Definitely one of the the best films I've seen in the last year, and I've watched a lot of films in that time (when you're failing Uni, you have to do something to make yourself feel good every day). Stu hasn't actually stopped talking about the film since we saw it, and is now claiming that after he drops out of Uni (I seem to have started some kind of craze - Caoimhe is taking next year out to go help the Africans or something, and Stu seems convinced that he won't last the course) he's going to study and become a Samurai. Having said that, he's also decided that he's going to replace the Alcohol in his current diet with Speed when he goes on the Atkins this year, and I'm not sure how well Amphetamine combines with bladed weapons.

Stu and Edd convince me to come through to Edinburgh and crash at their flat that night, so I head back to Dunfermline to exchange one bag of stuff for another and then run for the train. I've already mentioned several times that I have no willpower, but I've now decided that I'm going to embrace this deficiency rather than try to do anything about it - if nothing else, it'll undoubtedly make for more interesting reading here. On arriving in Edinburgh I head straight for Caoimhe's flat again, and drop off my stuff - not only is her flat much nicer than Edd and Stu's, she smells better than either of them as well. We then head out to meet them in the Golf Tavern, which has been done up since the last time I was in. Unfortunately they've taken what used to be a nice pub, with character (ok, it was golf related character, but it's the principle of the thing) and turned it into a hyper-trendy bar with metal surfaces everywhere. They've kept the golf memorabilia though, which ruins the image they were going for with the renovations and means that it doesn't really appeal to anyone. They've also upped the prices to an almost insulting level, and I actually recoil physically when teh woman tells me how much my round has cost. I somehow doubt I'll be back, since it's not even handy for anywhere. After they close, we head off to Teviot as Caoimhe wants to continue the drinking. Edd seems pretty unhappy about this, as he's obviously quite tired and we're playing Magic the next day, but it's not like I can argue with the girl who's giving me a bed for the night. More pool is played, and more drinks consumed. Edd is playing terribly against Caoimhe, but every time he messes up he catches my eye and taps his nose with his finger. While this was amusing the first time, it only becomes more so as the game goes on, and the shots he's misisng become even more ridiculous. Eventually we leave, and head our seperate ways - Caoimhe and I go back to her flat, where I pass out almost as soon as I sit down on the sofa. Very rude of me I know, but I wasn't really in a position to do anything about it.

The PTQ on Sunday was fairly disappointing, although eventually my bad luck became so amusing that I stopped caring very much. We again head to the pub for a couple of beers, and pretty soon a bunch of people turn up who I haven't seen this year. The music is good, as Edd sticks a bunch of songs on the jukebox and Andy and I chat about nothing in particular - life is good. I then have to run to catch the last train home, and I realise that living in Dunfermline is the absolute pits. I've got to start looking for a flat in Edinburgh ASAP.

Oh - I'm off to Amsterdam on Thursday, for the weekend, so you can expect some intersting stories when I get back. I'm all ready to roll out the line about the Masticores in the green deck.

2004-01-02T18:17:00.000Z

How Was it For You?

I recently remembered just how AMAZING James are. They used to be one of my favourite bands, but I hadn't listened to them for ages and ages, until someone produced The Best Of James on Hogmanay. Today was mostly spent listening to their albums again, and singing along at the top of my voice. It's almost like being back at school.

2004-01-01T05:37:00.000Z

Happy New Year!

No really, I'm not just saying it - I desperately want you all to have a happy New Year.

I'm not even going to talk about Christmas this year, as I was still completely pissed from going out on Christmas Eve, and it's therefore all a bit hazy. Suffice to say that I was incredibly ill, and totally unable to actually eat Chrsitmas Dinner. My mother was less than thrilled.

I was actually out on Hogmanay this year, for the first time in ages. Normally the problem is that we traditionally go to My gran's house for New Year's dinner, and it's impossible to get from either Glasgow or Edinburgh back to Dunfermline in time. This year however, my brother had arranged to go out in Edinburgh with friends from Uni so I was able to get a lift back (obviously my Dad was prepared to drive to Edinburgh to pick my brother up, but that's never been an option for me. No favouritism there then...) meaning that I could go out with Neil, Johnny, and Michael. Once again Michael demonstrated his reliability by heading off to the cinema with his brother, and his brother's girlfriend (can we all say gooseberry?) to see Love Actually, which I haven't seen but definitely want to - Keira Knightley is very much the lady of the moment. Anyway, Michael showed up an hour after he originally said he would and I obviously wasn't ready because he'd changed his mind and hadn't given me a new time. Turns out this was ok, as he then had to go home and get ready himself, and a mere hour and twenty minutes later he was back and we were on our way to Edinburgh. By the time we got there, everyone else had already eaten, so I was drinking on an empty stomach for some time before I sent Michael out for curries. In case it hadn't been made obvious before, Michael is everybody's bitch. Soon a whole bunch of people who I had never met before had turned up and the drink was flowing, although i did have to open a bottle of cheap white wine once we ran out of beer - If I'd bought it as a bottle of vinegar, I'd have been pleasantly surprised; if I'd bought it as a bottle of white wine, I'd have been disgusted; as it was, I stole it from Neil's fridge, so I couldn't have cared either way.

Everyone headed to Frankenstein's just after eleven, but the queue was quite long so we headed down to Princes Street since the street party was cancelled. I lost everyone else just after midnight when I was distracted by two french girls (I was trying to convince them that tradition dictated they let me put my tongue in their mouths), but I correctly guessed that everyone had headed to the Opal Lounge. Unfortunately this establishment views itself as being somewhat exclusive, so I was going to have problems getting in. The bouncer couldn't tell me whether everyone else had headed in or not, so I was forced to persuade a group of posh English girls to let me join their group and pretend I was on the guestlist. It still cost me £10 to get in, which was a little disappointing, but it worked out ok since Neil etc were actually inside. Had this not been the case, I'd have spent the rest of the evening stealing drinks from people and trying to persuade rich girls to be my friend. As it was I got to see Neil's flatmate George shake his stuff on the dancefloor, albeit really slowly due to his inability to stand up straight. I also got chatting to an Irish girl called Lisa, who was very friendly. So much so that everyone else left without me at around three, and I had to walk back to Neil's flat on my own. On the way home I payed £4 for a cold cheese and tomato pizza, thinking it was my last chance to get food at 5am on New Year's Day. Obviously I then walked past 4 open Kebab shops between there and the flat.

I've also booked my flights to Amsterdam now, but after doing so I remember that my passport had expired so I'll have to go to the ofice in Glasgow and renew it on Saturday. At some point I'm going to have to tell my parents that I'm going as well, which I'm guessing they'll be less than happy about (it seems I have an inate gift for making my parents unhappy - most mornings I can do it without even getting out of bed). I'm also hoping that my finances hold together throughout January, although with a bit of luck one of the people who owe me cash will cough up.

Although one of them is Eddie......

2003-12-23T20:44:00.000Z

Playing Catch Up

Today was my last day of work before Christmas, although referring to it in that manner does seem slightly hypocritical. My train was late so I didn't get in until after nine and I left at eleven-thirty, which shouldn't count as a days work in anyone's book (except of course the people who pay my wages, where it should count double). I spent the brief time I was actually in the office (that two and a half hours includes a coffee break) chatting with Claire and avoiding doing any work. Claire, in case I haven't mentioned her previously, is the 31 year old, ginger, Ex-English teacher who is also a trainee with the Inland Revenue. We went out for drinks on Friday (and the Friday before that, although that's a much less interesting story) and after four glasses of wine she was rather drunk. So much so that when I suggested we should go for dinner before I had to catch a train, she agreed. Sure she then ordered something expensive, coerced me into ordering a bottle of wine, then decided that she was drunk (well duh) and wasn't feeling well. After spending some time in the toilets, which she explained away yesterday with "I think I was queueing - yes, I must have been", she stepped outside for some fresh air leaving me to deal with the remains of my meal, the greater part of the wine, and the bill. I would be annoyed, except that she's one of the funniest drunks I've seen in ages - she seems to compel men to hit on her in the most blatant manner possible. The previous Friday we had only just managed to shove our way to the bar in The Standing Order, and a man in an ill-fitting suit was offering to take her to Ireland for the weekend. This Firday I come out of the restuarant to discover that some young executive has come out of the bar across the road, crossed the street just to talk to her, and has started telling her how unhappy he is - he really wants to quit his job and persue his dream of becoming a professional snowboarder (although if that man had ever been on a snowboard in his life, my name is Doris Günther).

I was out in Dunfermline on Sunday night with people I play badminton with, and as usually happens I took things much further than they should have gone. I knew that I had to be up at six the next morning, and that I should be heading home around midnight at the latest, but by that point I'd already had too much to drink and didn't care. We bumped into Fiona, Hannah, Jayne etc. in the Ballroom and being rather inebriated I decided that I had to apologise to Fiona. Quite what I was apologising for I'm not sure, although I'm pretty certain that she had no idea either. Undoubtedly the rest of that group will now think that something was going on between us (it seems I can't even say hello to a girl these days without somebody thinking that there's something else going on). Anyway, the end result of the "few drinks" which I initially headed out for was me vomiting the next morning as I tried to get myslef out of the house in time for work. My parents were less than impressed, although my dad found it rather amusing on Monday night, when he asked me if I'd been held up by something important, and I replied that the traffic had been terrible.

Speaking of terrible traffic, I saw The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King on Saturday night. While that may not seem like the most obvious link, our journey to the cineam turned out to be even more epic than the film itself. First of all, rather than go to see the film in Dunfermline we had decided to go to the Odeon in Wester Hailes (where? you may ask, and with good reason) so that we could meet up with Murdoch and one of his flatmates. Michael was the designated driver for the evening. Having arranged this mere hours beforehand, I was somewhat surprised to receive a call back from Michael informing me that Neil had decided not to go and see the film, because of the snow. now I looked out of my window at the snow that was falling in Dunfermline, and laughed my head off - it wasn't even lying. Michael and I decided that we would still go to see the film, so we headed off to Edinburgh via the Dunfermline Odeon (which seems to only show films at the most stupidly awkward times - who wants to go and see a film that lasts over three hours starting at 10pm? The pubs would be closed by the time you came out). Now, Michael may be one of the scariest drivers in the world. It's not that he can't cope with the technical side, it's just that he never seems to be paying any attention to what's going on. He claimed that he had looked at a map before he left the house, and knew exactly where he was going - unfortunately he hadn't planned for the fact that the Edinburgh bypass would be totally covered in snow, as nobody had sent the gritting machines out. This made it impossible to see any of the road markings, or to read any of the road signs (which all seemed to be completely covered as well). There were cars stopped, with their hazard warning lights on, roughly every 200 yards on the bypass after the Hermiston Gait junction because they couldn't get any traction. They were sliding all over the shop as their drivers tried to get themselves moving again, which would have been fine if there had been no other cars on the road. As it was, the bypass resembled a large scale game of curling which we'd wandered into without realizing that we were one of the stones. I swear to god, we almost crashed about 40 times as our car decided to respond in the opposite direction to Michael's steering. At one point we breaked at a junction, and the car never even slowed. My life flashed before my eyes at a far greater rate than the oncoming Mondeo. Even getting into the cinema carpark (after we eventually found it when I spotted a sign for Wester Hailes just before we headed in the opposite direction) wasn't easy, as it involved driving up a ramp. After making sure that Michael realised the worst thing he could do would be to stop anywhere on the way up, we took a run at it and stopped halfway up for no good reason. several minutes of wheelspinning later, I convinced Michael he would have to reverse back down, and take a run up at it again - fortunately the wheels gained some traction when the car started sliding down the ramp sideways, or it could have been really nasty.

Eventually, I got to see the film. Wow. I've been very impressed by all the films, especially by how much they've remained faithful to the books, but this was by far the best one. The only things which irritated me slightly were that despite cutting Chritopher Lee's scenes (Saruman), Peter Jackson kept in the scenes with Pippin and the Palantir (which make absolutely no sense without either the Saruman scenes, or Gandalf's explanation of what the Palantir is, from the book). The other irritation was the happy "in love" look between Faramir and Eowyn at the end of the film (did anyone else see this scene and think of the Star Wars award ceremony?) despite there being no previous mention of any kind of contact between them - is Peter Jackson telling impressionable young girls that just because Viggo Mortensen doesn't want them, they have to take up with the first noble warrior who comes along? Minor gripes I know, but it just felt slightly strange considering how well put together the rest of the film is.

I also stumbled across this today. There are some very interesting weblogs mentioned here (although I can't believe I didn't get a mention - I should never have taken that month off), and I especially like this one for it's relevance to my job, and this one for obvious reasons. They have been added to my "reading" section at the side, since it needed updating anyway.

On a final note, I would just like to say this in public: Stuart Healy was in fact correct. After sending the e-mail, I did start to worry about whether it was a huge mistake, I did become more nervous as the days passed without a reply, and I did consider doing something mildly illegal in an effort to remove all traces of the e-mail before she read it. However, it now seems as if everything is going to be ok regardless of what happens (although if things don't work out the way I'm hoping, I'll probably want to revise that statement), and I don't regret sending it. I certainly don't regret saying the things I said, because trying to keep it all inside would only have messed me up once again. Eventually that sort of thing has to come out, and the longer you keep it inside the more likely it is to be an alcohol fuelled rant about why her current boyfriend is a total wanker (and this makes it much less likely that you'll get the result you wnat, as well as much less liekly that you'll be able to remain friends). But the point is Stu was right, which just goes to show that miracles do indeed happen at Christmas ;)

2003-12-16T23:12:00.000Z

She

I had a really good weekend, and would have written about it sooner if my life hadn't been slightly crazy this week. I've been on Jury Service since Monday, on a rape case. Although I can't really talk about it at the moment, I will apparently be free to do so after the sentencing tomorrow so I'll almost certainly write something.

With regards to the weekend, I went out in Edinburgh on Friday night with Caoimhe, Izzy, and Edd (and we met up with Andy, who I hadn't seen in ages and who was absolutely wasted, but pretty funny). We went to Teviot, and although I wasn't really in the mood for dancing it turned out ok, as neither were Izzy and Caoimhe. We had a really good chat (about what I can't really remember) then on the way home Andy, Caoimhe and I watched a group of guys play "Wall of Death!", a game which involves (a) being drunk, (b) trying to run up an almost vertical wall, and (c) falling down the aforementioned wall and injuring yourself. Great chat. Anyway, we eventually all get back to Caoimhe and Izzy's flat, and Edd becomes the worlds most embarassingly desperate man (an honour which I have held on several occasions, so I know what I'm talking about). In fact, this had pretty much been the case for the whole evening as he kept talking about a drunken bet he'd won with Caoimhe, the payout of which involved her sleeping with him. Fair enough I laughed when I found out, and played along with the joke for a bit, but 6 hours later and Edd was still plugging away. I would later learn that the night before (when the bet was made, and won) he had really been trying to stay over at her flat, and that everyone else involved felt incredibly awkward. I'm actually beginning to worry about him, as it seems like he's going through a mental breakdown or something :/

Anyway, eventually Edd and Andy leave which means Caoimhe and I can actually have a proper conversation. Unfortunately it's almost 6am by this point and she still hasn't packed her stuff to take back to Wales with her on an 8:30 am train, so I soon pass out on the sofa while she continues packing. After 2 hours of frequently interrupted sleep, I walk her to the station then proceed to make faces at her through the window of her carriage (two policemen walking past actually comment on how sweet this is, and I'm forced to shout after them "She's not with me - I've never seen the crazy bitch before in my life!"). Then as the train pulls out, I run alongside it in the classic black-and-white-movie-romantic-farewell moment. Unfortunately this is much harder to do than it looks, and I spill hot coffee all over myself resulting in severe burns (much to Caoimhe's amusement, although I'm choosing to believe that she was laughing at the comedy farewell moment, rather than my injuries). I then boarded a train to Glasgow for the next installment of my sleepless weekend.

I was travelling to Glasgow to meet up with Lauren, who I hadn't seen for ages but had spoken to recently online and agreed to meet up before Christmas. Unfortunately I hadn't been payed as I thought I would, so Christmas shopping was off and all I could afford was lunch. It was good to see her again, and we wandered round the art gallery which all the punk kiddies hang out outside. Lauren apparently enjoys looking round the gallery, whereas I'm always overly tempted to make loud comments about "modern art", especially in relation to it's funding by the taxpayer. It wasn't all bad, as I did get to see the mattress covered in buttons (and while I wouldn't say that it was a particularly important statement/commentary about modern society I do think it would look rather cool in my bedroom). I then left Lauren to go and meet Stu, who I had phoned up and invited to meet Lauren and I but who turned out to be far too lazy to get out of bed before 3 pm. Stu, Dave Mitchell, larry and I went to play some pool in Bar Oz, where an Aberdonian chemicals dealer started chatting to us and eventually offered Dave some cocaine. I cannot possibly comment on whether Dave accepted this offer, or whether he promptly phoned the police and alerted them to this illegality, but I will say that less than thirty minutes later Dave was inviting me to a party.

The party was massively hyped up ("this guy throws the most amazing parties - the last one lasted for 30 hours and was broken up by the police 5 times" - Dave Mitchell), and as is the case with all such events (Matrix Revolutions, Star Wars Episode 1, losing your virginity, etc) it failed to live up to the hype.

*** aside ***
I'm chatting to Larry as I write this, and this is an excerpt from the conversation which actually made me laugh out loud, rather than just typing it:

The lesson for today: Heroin addicts do not make good witnesses in criminal proceedings { http://www.dougiep.blogspot.com } says:
god is in the details
Mr Wife Says: <(please carry my breadstick. pretty please? and could you maybe take your penis out of my ass? ) says:
or in the tv, depending how sliced up your forearms are

.... and back to the disappointing party. I actually had quite a good time, as I had already drank one bottle of wine and started on another once we arrived. Also, we talked about music for a fair amount of time which is always interesting. I don't actually remember much else, except that Dave claimed to be offering odds of 16-1 against me pulling (and after stating these odds was obviously so worried that when I actually did speak to a girl, he had to walk up and mention that the odds were 16-1 against me pulling her and ask if I wanted to place a bet - subtle), and me finding Dave's friend Rosalyn unattractive despite Stu, Dave, and Larry all thinking she was some kind of godess. Apparently Dave's girlfriend thinks Dave is shagging her, which I would say is certainly not the case (just in case Dave's girlfriend is reading this). Stu and I also have an argument about me taking the piss out of some guy att the party, and how I was apparently out of line. For a moment I'm worried that everyone at the party is going to turn on me, as he was apparently a friend of Dave's, but somehow I manage to turn it around and Stu ends up apologising to me for being out of line. I'm not sure now whether he actually meant what he was saying, or if he was just behaving the same way he does whenever Eddie throws a hissy fit (accept the blame in order to shut him up, apologise profusely, then offer to buy him a drink - Stu is such a pussy). I hope it wasn't the latter, because that implies that I was being unbelievably unreasonable.

After leaving the party, Stu and I walk back to his flat and on the way he reveals that he would in fact be happy for me to date his sister. He obviously didn't realise that a verbal contract was legally binding in Scotland.

Oh, one more thing.....

2003-12-10T21:51:00.000Z

Guess who's back?

Well of course Shady is back, but I'm here too. Tell a friend, or something.

There are two options for starting off this entry - the first is to spend a lot of time explaining why I haven't written in a while, and assure you that I'll try to write more regularly in the future; the second is to lie blatantly in an attempt to be amusing. See if you can guess which one I chose.

Sorry it's been so long since my last post, but I died. It's ok though, it turned out not to be very serious and I feel much better now.

I almost won a PTQ this weekend. I say almost, but it feels like a moral victory since I conceeded the final to a man who had absolutely no chance of beating me, in exchange for a reasonable sum of money. This means that I can afford to (a) buy christmas presents for my family, and (b) go to amsterdam for the Pro Tour (well, more for the sheer hell of it). With a bit of luck it also means I can (c) buy myself an iPod, but that possibly requires Eddie to pay back some cash he owes me which seems like a very long shot indeed. Regardless of the nature of my victory, I had a really good time and enjoyed myself more than I have done at a Magic tournament for some time - it's amazing how much better you feel when you're winning.

I'm going to go out in Edinburgh on Friday and then stay with Caoimhe, before getting the train to Glasgow on Saturday morning to meet Eddie and Lauren for some Christmas shopping. Not that I'll be buying any pressies, as I'll have spent my last few pennies on booze the night before, but I'm reliably informed that it's the thought that counts (as in "I thought I gave you that money I owed you"). It's also my office party on Tuesday, so with a bit of luck I'll be able to get very drunk and embarass myself hugely. No wait - I meant to say "stay sober and not embarass myself". Funny how I always seem to get those two confused :/

Just a little something to leave you with (and it is oh so true):

You have a goodbye kiss- much passion and longing,
but never lasting.

What kind of kiss are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

2003-10-29T20:39:00.000Z

The Anti-Banana Movement.

I've noticed in the last couple of days that my legs have started to hurt when I'm walking home from the station at night. I'm also developing a cold. Neither of these ailments was there last week, and a process of deductive reasoning has led me to the conclusion that it's all caused by Bananas. I've eaten a banana a day since the start of this week, so that must be it. Sure there are other possible explanations, but none of them makes as much sense as the bananas - I mean those badboys contain potassium! have you seen what potassium does when you put it in water? Seems to me that it can't possibly be healthy to eat that stuff.

2003-10-28T22:18:00.000Z

I was born to try (it on)

I'm actually feeling pretty good at the moment, which is a nice change. The new job is going well (although I spend a lot of time sitting around waiting for other people to work out how to use their computer), and seems like it's only going to get more interesting as the training goes on. I actually had my first Workshop today, on the subject of how the Inland Revenue deals with people moving from one job to another. It turns out that a supposedly simple process is made infinitely more confusing because people don't have the proper forms, or the forms aren't correctly filled in, or someone in another IR office has done something stupid. I know this because I've spent all week trying to untangle some of these messes, which is fortunate as I wasn't relaly paying much attention in the workshop. In fact I couldn't tell you a single word that was said during the whole thing (although if I had to guess, I would say that's it's quite likely that "the" and "and" were used at least once each), which is slightly scary as I know that I made several comments and answered a couple of questions. I can only hope that while my mind was off wandering, my mouth was conversing intelligently and creating a favourable impression on the training staff.

I went to the cinema on Saturday night to see Kill Bill. I'm not going to comment on the movie except to say that I enjoyed it, and that it has a very different feel to it that Tarantino's previous films. needless to say the fight sequences are very impressive (what else would you expect from Wu Ping?) if a little unrealistic - in case any Yakuza footsoldiers are reading this, when you outnumber someone 80 to 1 and you all have swords, don't attack her one at a time. She is almost certainly more skilled with sharp pointy things than you are, especially if she smiles knowingly as you all rush into the room weapons drawn. God help you if she actually cracks any jokes.

After the film I went to The Foundry, a new bar which has opened in Dunfermline, for a few drinks. I was pleasantly surprised (pubs in Dunfermline aren't always the greatest drinking establishments the world has seen), although it was far too busy despite being absolutely massive. I ended up seeing quite a few people from school who I haven't seen in ages, such as Andrew Young, Stacey Cullen, and Kirsty Kirkham. So the update - Andy is now working in The Foundry and is still a nice guy. Stacey is working in a call centre and is still absolutely stunning (and she was wearing the most fantastic shoes). Kirsty is still a stuck up, arrogant bitch. I also spoke to Claire and Katie Smith (ooooh, twins) who I've seen more recently, and I met Alan Lindsay's girlfriend Jo (who it turns out lives in my street, and I used to fancy her when I was younger).

Sunday I went out for a meal with my family, including Grandparents, Great Aunt and Uncle, and my cousin Ailie (who once again was the centre of attention all day). This would have been fine except that Ailie left early, and I soon grew bored of the conversation (it seems that whenever my family gets together they talk only about people I don't know, many of whom are actually dead, then complain when i don't take part in the conversation) and turned on the TV to watch The Matrix. This incredible display of rudeness (I even had the sound turned almost all the way down so it wasn't interfering with the conversations in any way) almost caused my mother to lose it. Luckily she restrained herself, and merely glared at me for the first hour of the film before we had to leave and drive Gordon back to Edinburgh. Unfortunately this diversion meant that I didn't get home until about midnight, and I had to rise at 6:15 the next morning for work - by lunchtime I was nodding off at my desk as I listened to someone talk about PAYE taxation.

Finally, I thought I'd post an e-mail I received the other day. It is in fact a reply to an e-mail I sent while in Edinburgh last weekend, one of those "seemed like a good idea at the time" things. I'll post the e-mail I sent first:

From: Douglas Penman (douglaspenman@operamail.com)
To: Lucy Kinninmonth (address withheld for legal reasons)
Subject: Fitness of Vetinary Students

Hi,

This probably comes as a bit of a surprise, but you don't know me. I happened to be browsing the online photographs of 2nd year vetinary students when I came across your picture. Boy was I impressed! However my friends were not of the same opinion (both vet students, you probably know them as Roddie Binie and James Baxter), proclaiming that you were average at best. So in the interests of full disclosure I was wondering if it would be possible for you to go on a date with Roddie's flatmate, the clean cut Stewart Healey (the kind of man every mother wants her daughter to end up with), allowing him to confirm the actual level of your attractiveness and settle our disagreement (Stewart has been roped into this against his will to act as an impartial adjudicator).

Hopefully this won't intrude too much on your obviously busy schedule (and if we could keep the police out of this, it'd be a huge bonus for me).

Yours hopefully,

Douglas Penman

Which is all good clean fun, combined with a bit of charity (I could have tried to get a date with her myself, but instead I tried to set her up with Stu). In case you're interested this is the girl in question:

Anyway, I had kinda forgotten about sending the e-mail (the copious quantities of alcohol consumed that evening may have had something to do with this) until I received her reply:

From: Lucy Kinninmonth (address withheld for legal reasons)
To: Douglas Penman (douglaspenman@operamail.com)
Subject: Re: Fitness of Vetinary Students

um....hi, ur lucky i didnt delete ur email i nearly did by mistake!! i dont know the 2 people that u mentioned i entered my course directly into 2nd year! I think id like to turn ur lovely request down as not much a fan of blind dates and not sure i really wanna be an experiment!!! but thanks for asking and let ur friends know that they r probably right...im really ugly. Tell them that the normal people in the world dont look like Elle McPherson so they really should learn to deal with it!!

Seeya,
Luce

Personally I don't blame her for her aversion to blind dates, but she's clearly fishing for compliments when she calls herself ugly. I'm not going to give up though - Stu Healy will get a date with this girl if it kills me (although it may prove easier to get her to go on a date with me, this would defeat one of the main points of this exercise). I'm not going to post my response to this yet, but if there is more correspondance I'll keep you posted.

2003-10-28T20:32:00.000Z

So I took this personality test to fit in with everyone else - I guess that says quite a lot in itself, but these results do seem slightly worrying. Personally I'm choosing to believe that the questions were loaded to make everyone seem crazy, rather than that I'm a danger to myself and the general public. Feel free to draw your own conclusions, and avoid sitting next to me on public transport etc. if you want.

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	High
Schizoid:	Moderate
Schizotypal:	Moderate
Antisocial:	High
Borderline:	Low
Histrionic:	High
Narcissistic:	Very High
Avoidant:	Moderate
Dependent:	Moderate
Obsessive-Compulsive:	Low
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --

2003-10-22T22:10:00.000+01:00

Getting Hair Gel in your Eyes :(

I hate it when it rains, because I always end up getting hair gel in my eyes, which wouldn't be so bad if I didn't use "Ultimate Hold" - there's nothing quite like having your eyelids stuck closed. The reason I bring this up now is that I had to walk home from work in the rain yesterday (well, I had to walk from work to the station) and I got soaked. To make matters worse, when the train arrives it's standing room only. So I have stand, dripping wet, freezing cold, all the way home to Dunfermline.

I Wish.

Unfortunately the train timetable I was using was an old one (about 3 years old) as it was nearer the front of my bag than the current train timetable I also had with me. I realise that this will be the stupidest thing many of you have heard recently, and I would like to reassure those people that this is practicaly a non-event on the scale of my idiocy. Anyway, the result of this laziness/idiocy (delete as appropriate) was that the train on which I was travelling didn't go anywhere near Dunfermline. Instead it went to Kirkaldy, where I had to board another train to get back to Inverkeithing and catch a connection to Dunfermline. Except that once again my train timetable was grossly inaccurate, and this train didn't stop at Inverkeithing and I had to travel to Haymarket (one stop further away from Dunfermline than I had been when i boarded the first train) and connect from there. I eventually got home at about 8pm, or 3 hours after I left work, still cold and wet. But, thanks to the miracle that is the McDonalds Double Cheeseburger, not hungry (speaking of McDonalds, don't you think they'd make twice as much money by just selling Double Cheeseburgers and breakfasts all day?).

The new job seems to be going fine, although it has been a fairly slow start as there are 6 people in the group and we have to move at a pace everyone can keep up with. Fortunately it seems as if it's going to be reasonably interesting, and fairly varied work so it should be able to hold my attention for long enough to let me get stuff done. Having said that, I have already spent a fair amount of time looking at the options for career advancement in the Intranet. It's probably a good idea to finish my training for this job before I start thinking about becoming Senior Management however. I was somewhat disapointed to learn that the attractive young girls who were taking the Work Sample Test at teh same time as me haven't been hired, although there are two girls joining our group nearer Christmas (I have my fingers crossed that they're the aesthetically appealing part of our team). There are two girls in our team although both are older than I am, and while they're not unattractive (in fact I would go so far as to describe one of them as "hot") I don't think that I'm the sort of guy they'd be looking for.

I was out in edinburgh on Saturday night, as I had gone through to Stu and Edd's to set up their computer network. I then attempted to drag Stu out to the shops so I could buy shoes, but knowing my total lack of willpower he persuaded me that shoes could wait and we headed to the pub instead. He then persauded me to come to a flatwarming party, where we both got incredibly drunk on Morgan's Spiced and I "embarassed myself with an ugly girl". Those are Stu's words, not mie, so I feel I should clarify the incident. The girl in question (who shall remain nameless because I can't remember it - it definitely wasn't Jennifer, if that helps) followed me into the toilet, without any encouragement from me at all. Ok, I may have said "You're welcome to join me if you want", but I'm sure I said it in the sarcastic tone of voice which implied "I'm going to the toilet now, please don't follow me". So after she had seen me urinate, then urinated in front of me, I thought for sure that we would be having sex later on (not that it happens often, but I've always taken women following me into the toilet and watching me pee to be a sign that they're interested). It's amazing how many wrong assumptions you can make in one short lifetime. We got right up to the point of being in her bedroom, and then I discovered that there was already a guy asleep in her bed. This was somewhat confusing but I assumed it was an innocent mistake, until she informed me that I couldn't stay there as this guy was sleeping in her bed tonight. To my shame, I didn't bring up the possibilities for three in a bed action (well, she wasn't that attractive) so I guess I'll never know whether she wanted to get spit-roasted or not. Stu and I left the party shortly afterwards, as he was practically unconcious and I didn't have anywhere to stay if he didn't go back to his flat. The next morning I had the worst headache of my life thanks to Captain Morgan, so I shall never be consuming his spiced rum again (although it is very tasty...). Stu was feeling similarly rough, so I dragged him out shopping for shoes. First however, we went to Pizza Hut and ordered a ridiculously expensive pizza which we then realised we didn't actually want to eat. So much so, in fact, that Stu had to spend 20 minutes int eh toilet after eating only one slice. After that I did actually buy shoes, but after wearing them for one day I realised that I don't actually like them that much (I like them, I just don't really like them) and they squeak when I walk, which is very embarassing.

I also spoke to Laura tonight (I phoned her, as I said I would, so she now owes me lunch - best bet I ever made) and arranged to meet her in Glasgow next weekend. As sad as it sounds, I'm already wondering what I should wear, and if I can afford to buy any new clothes before then. I've also just realised (as I type this in fact) that next Saturday is my 21st birthday. I suddenly feel very old indeed.

Apologies for the lateness of this post - I had written a fair amount of it on Monday, but my internet connection has been down and I didn't really want to run up a huge phone bill on "Pay Per Minute" (between the Phone Sex lines and calling the Speaking Clock every ten minutes, my parents are already going to be very unhappy when they return from their holiday).

2003-10-16T23:03:00.000+01:00

Kicking, again

Ahhh, the trend of stealing titles from Irvine Welsh continues. It's actually starting to feel as if my life once again belongs to me, rather than belonging to a mixture of my parents and the bank. I start work on Monday, and I'm actually looking forward to it - sleeping in until lunchtime and wasting away the day on IRC gets quite boring after a while. So boring in fact that updates here have died off somewhat. Now that I feel as if I'm getting back on track, I'll hopefully feel like writing more often - who knows, some of it may even be interesting.

My parents went on holiday today, jetting off to Portugal and leaving me here on my own. No doubt I'll be eating takeaway food for the next week. At least it means I don't have them hassling me about something 16 hours a day though - my mum decided that I would somehow be unable to get up in time to get to work next week unless I'd got myself into the habit of getting up early, so she took it upon herself to waken me at an unpleasant hour every day this week. Obviously getting up this early hasn't meant that I've been able to get to sleep earlier, merely that I've been incredibly tired all week. Something which has only been made worse by getting to bed at 4:30 am yesterday.

I had gone through to Edinburgh with a friend from school to see another schoolfriend, Neil. By now the general level of organisation among my friends should have been made apparent, so it should come as no surprise that Michael showed up 30 minutes late to pick me up. It probably won't come as a surprise to learn that despite this delay, Neil still wasn't home when we turned up at his flat (he had been out having dinner with his Gran I believe), which was almost not a problem as Michael had no idea how to get to the flat despite having been there before. Sigh. Anyway, we eventually find the flat, and Neil's flatmate George is good enough to let us in (after I had buzzed 3 wrong flats on the entry phone - maybe a sticker with your names on it boys? Actually, it wasn't so bad as all 3 times it was answered by a young girl who sounded attractive, so I'll probably be visiting Neil more often) and Neil turned up 15 minutes later.

So we go to the student union for a couple of drinks, collecting Michael's brother on the way. We actually only stay for one pint, as there is Kareoke on in the bar, no pool tables are available, and there's a charge of £1 to get into the nightclub part of Teviot (thinking back, it would probably have been worth paying the £1 as there was a "Cops and Robbers" theme night on, which meant every second girl was in Police uniform - Mmmmm, handcuffs), before we headed to Frankensteins. Another pint, and we were headed to Espionage, which was so dead we went straight out the back door and into the Three Sisters, where things were lively enough that we stayed until it closed. Turns out Neil knew the barmaid (knew in the biblical sense) so we almost won 2 minutes behind the bar on some prize draw, but although we had tickets 51 and 54, she managed to pick 52 and some complete tosser got 2 minutes behind the bar which he spent pouring himself 16 vodka's. What a waste - surely everyone knows that the first thing to do in that situation is start some pints going at the taps before heading onto the optics (bottles are probably better, but I don't know if you were allowed into the fridges)? At some point during the evening, I decide that it will be a good idea if I go and tell the girl at the table next to us I like her shoes, which she was less than impressed by - maybe that sort of chat only works on rich Americanan girls. I also managed to pay £6.40 for two bottles of Smirnoff Black Ice, when the barmaid failed to inform me that they were no longer on offer at £1.50 each :(

After the Three Sisters closed, we decided that the night was still young and headed to Gaia for Shagtag (you know you love it!). Needless to say I was by this point somewhat inebriated, but that didn't stop me from heading straight to the bar. Neil left early, pretty out of it and not really liking the Gaia atmosphere (shit music, very few attractive single girls and a bunch of drunk, aggressive guys). Michael and I walk back to his car, but I somehow lose him while I chat to a couple of girls I stopped in the street (they new the risks they were taking). I chatted to them for ages, although I cannot for the life of me remember what was said beyond me telling one of them I liked the way she had her hair done. I was probably nothing other than poilte, and the discussion was probably about art or the threatre or something, as is so often the case when I'm on my way home from a club.

I eventually get home at 4.30, and my mum was kind enough to wake me up at 7 to make sure I made it to the hairdressers on time. Once again my hair is short and tidy, and I seem to hae finally found a hairdresser I like. She recommended that I try out a new club in Dunfermline which has just opened, called The Foundry, and in return I recommended some clubs in Edinburgh for her. She did keep mentioning her boyfriend, which I thought was a unnecessary while I was obviously feeling very rough (yeah, kick a man when he's down) but what can you do?

I also spoke to Laura this week, as she was finally on MSN. She was a bit annoyed that I didn't call her ages ago, and she's right - I should have made more of an effort, especially since I quite like her. I think things may happen there however, as I'm going to give her a call tomorrow and she's made it pretty clear that she's interested in me. It's incredibly unusual for me to meet a girl who I find very attractive, and who I also find interesting to talk to and get on well with, to be interested in me so I'm hoping not to fuck this one up.

So that's everyone pretty much up to speed on my life recently. Eddie and Stu invited me to go out in Edinburgh with them tonight, as it's Michelle's birthday (the sprited attempt I made at ruining her last birthday will long be remembered I'm sure, especially since I had only met her for the first time that evening) but I'm pretty tired so I didn't go. I don't know if she'll be reading this at any point, but Happy Birthday, Michelle anyway. I'm going through on Saturday to set up a LAN in Stu and Eddie's flat, and then I'm going shopping for shoes. I might even go to The Foundry on saturday night, if anyone in Dunfermline is up for it.

2003-10-03T19:06:00.000+01:00

Practically Respectable

I finally got my contract throught the post the other day and it makes no mention of a company car or a long legged secretary, so there's obviously been some kind of mistake. It does tell me that I'm starting on the 20th of October, so I've still got a couple of weeks of lazing around the house to look forward to. Looks like I won't be moving back through to Edinburgh until after Christmas though.

I just finished reading Playing the Moldovans at Tennis by Tony Hawks (not the skateboarder, although there was a brief moment of confusion initially) which I would reccommend to people who have a sense of humour, and can read (maybe it'll be out on talking book for the rest of you). The same author has apparently written a book in which he hitch-hikes around Ireland with a fridge, so I'm going to buy that I think. I also watched The Talented Mr Ripley which I had never seen, although i had read some of the Patricia Highsmith books. I liked the film although, as in so many cases where I have read the book first and then watched the film, I also found it disappointing in some ways. Ripley's character is much stronger in the book, whereas in the film he comes across as being completely out of his depth. It's a very good performance from Matt Damon though, and both Gwynneth Paltrow and Cate Blanchett are looking fine (which is the important thing in any film).

I thought it might be nice idea for me to do something every Friday in my blog, which required readers to post a comment (like maybe have a little quiz, or a "top 5" session or somehting) and we could all get to know each other a bit better. While getting to know some of my readers a bit better is a scary prospect, I think that the Pro's outweigh the Con's (this was soooooo nearly a fantastic joke about Dave_Conn's weight) and I'm going to start today. If everyone could write a short Personals style ad, and post it in the comments section for this post, it'd be much appreciated. Who knows, someone may even like the sound of you and get in touch - this could be the start of the finest online dating service yet. Here's mine:

Erratic, alcoholic insomniac seeks girl with supermodel looks, twin sister and trust fund to share embarassing silences, awkward moments at the end of dates, and unfulfilling sexual encounters with. Must have nice shoes.

And people accuse me of not being honest enough?

2003-09-28T18:35:00.000+01:00

Dropped my brother off at Pollock Halls today, which was very upsetting for me. I mean, there were all these naive young fresher girls there, and I'm not in a position to take advantage. One of them even blushed when I smiled at her in the corridor, which is something I haven't seen in a long time. On the plus side, it means there's more food in the house which I can eat, and there's one less person competing for the beer in the fridge. I'm also hoping that my parents start being nice to me in a display of what psychologists call "transference" (not very likely I know, but I'm an optimist).

I'm very jealous of my brother actually, since his room in the Halls of Residence is in the new building that was only completed this year. This means that everything is shiny and new, his room is massive (and comes with a television which, in a blatant display of favouritism, my parents are buying him a license for), and he's surrounded by rich girls who are away from home for the first time ever. I'm seriously considering paying the £1000 tuition fees myself, once I start working, just so that I can go and live in that building. Obviously this is the only reason I'm jealous of my brother, and it's not quite enough to outweigh the fact that he's an obnoxious little shit, with a face like a dog's arse and the intelligence of a gerbil (don't want him getting ideas above his station if he reads this).

Anyway, I still haven't received my contract from the Inland Revenue, so I don't know when I'm starting work, and I still don't have any money (my account contains £14 and I have a £45 credit card bill that has to be paid before Tuesday) so I'm not doing anything exciting. I will, however, be 21 in about a month, so I'm expecting cards to begin flowing in from people reading this (current circulation seems to be 3 people reading every day, but 2 of them are me so....). If you do want to send me a card, then mail me and I'll give you my postal address (and if you include gifts of money, then I'll love you forever - I officially list receiving money in the post as one of my favourite things). Yes, I am that desperate for attention.

2003-09-24T20:56:00.000+01:00

Foolproof? Never underestimate the ingenuity of fools.

So Dave_Conn decides that his CPU is cutting out every time he tries to play Warcraft 3 because it's overheating, and that he needs to get a better heatsink. Fair enough, I hear you say - but how many of you would have ordered the heatsink without checking that it was suitable for use with your motherboard? That's what I thought. Obviously it turns out that the heatsink is too big to fit on Dave's processor, as the PSU gets in the way. So he returns the heatsink, and orders a new on which actually fits, right? Apparently not. Dave did this instead:

and this:

What a guy. Some excerpts from our conversation regarding this case mod:

you're strange and you're beautiful says: the best bit of all is it's a silent cpu fan
you're strange and you're beautiful says: however now my vaccum sounding PSU is sticking out the front
you're strange and you're beautiful says: thats even louder :/

you're strange and you're beautiful says: lolol
you're strange and you're beautiful says: well come on
you're strange and you're beautiful says: at least i fixed my problem
Don't want to quit, but that's a pretty nice door says: I think fixed is a bit strong
Don't want to quit, but that's a pretty nice door says: the industry term for such things is "workaround"
Don't want to quit, but that's a pretty nice door says: which translates as "the original problem is no longer the most pressing problem, because I created a bunch of new ones which are more serious"

you're strange and you're beautiful says: whats best to know is i bought this thing so my processor no longer overheated when i tried to run warcraft 3
you're strange and you're beautiful says: however after i ordered it my pirate copy of war3 stopped working anyway

So there you have it people - once you've dropped the baby on his head, it's all dowhill from there and your best bet is probably to give the kid up for adoption. I can't believe I count these people as friends.

2003-09-24T16:51:00.000+01:00

It has been suggested that I include more sex, violence, and gratuitous swearing in my blog in order to appeal more to the younger generations. Believe me I'm trying (especially the sex bit), but for some reason my life isn't very interesting at the moment. This is why I'm not updating as much as I would like, as I'm sure that people don't really want to read another entry of "I can't afford to leave the house, I'm not having any sex, my feet are really cold" any more than I want to write one. Nevertheless, my feet are very cold, and I cannot afford to leave the house - but one of those problems seems due to go away soon.

I got a phone call from the Inland Revenue today, notifying me that my application to work there had been successful. I have no idea when I start, or indeed when I get my first paycheck (which is obviously the important thing), but hopefully it will be soon. The only minor issue is that I probably don't get payed until the end of my first month working there and I have to stop claiming benefit the day before I start work, which means that I'll have even less money than I do at present (I didn't know that you got quantities of money that small, so maybe they'll be giving it to me in lira or something) for a short period of time. This probably means I'm going to incur even more debt, but such is life.

Now all that remains is for me to do something about my cold feet, and my life could well be back on track (albiet a slightly less glamorous track than I originally anticipated). Maybe some thicker socks.....

2003-09-19T21:28:00.000+01:00

The Long Road Up (or "Anything Has Got To Be An Improvement")

So I went for a job interview today, and I think it went well. At the very least, I got to speak to a very attractive young lady called Stacey (I know, but what can you do? I blame the parents) who seems to be some sort of Personal Assistant. Some of the women who were there for the Work Sample Test were also pretty hot, so I'm hoping that the Inland Revenue screens for this sort of thing when hiring. Although, thinking about it, I should probably hope that they don't screen applicants too thoroughly on attractiveness as I'd quite like to get the job. Fingers are crossed anyway, and I should know in the next week or so.

On another note, I feel that I should link to this blog, as Scouseboy is clearly a poetic genius. Obviously he also has a load of personal/mental/hygene problems, but I'm not the sort of person who'd hold that against him. Anyway, his poems are amazingly funny so I'd reccomend that you check them out.

2003-09-17T16:00:00.000+01:00

Somone recently asked me what my favourite quote of all time was (actually, this is a lie - nobody asked, but I like to pretend that I have social interactions with people other than with my television, and the Microsoft Office Assistant). Of course, as I'm an indecisive sort, ready to jump on every bandwagon that comes along, there are lots of quotes I like, including almost every line of dialog from Die Hard, and whatever film/book I happen to have looked at most recently. However I think that this may be my all time favourite:

"Consider orang-utans.
In all the worlds graced by their presence, it is suspected that they can talk but choose not to do so in case humans put them to work, possibly in the television industry. In fact they can talk. It's just that they talk in Orang-utan. Humans are only capable of listening in Bewilderment."

2003-09-16T18:16:00.000+01:00

Disappointment, Sexual Frustration, and Financial Ruin

Yet another weekend has passed, and with it another string of disappointments. Lauren had anopther party on Sturday night, but I was unable to attend as I'd already arranged to be in Aberdeen playing Magical cards on the Sunday. When I think of all the weekends of the year when I don't actually do anything, it seems like terribly bad luck to have two seperate events I want to attend on the same one, but what can you do? To make matters even worse, crazy_edd attended the party and then repeatedly phoned myself and Stu (also travelling to Aberdeen to play cards) to tell us what a good time he was having, and keep us apprraised of his level of drunkeness. Normally this would be fine, but he also took it upon himself to embarass me by putitng a drunken Laura on the phone (I nearly used the phrase "well lubricated" there, but caught myself just in time) while i was sitting in a room with Stu, Shades, and Gary Campbell. Strange as it may sound, I'm a big fan of keeping certain things private, and conversations like the one I need to have with Laura (the younger girl who I met at Lauren's birthday party) are very near the top of that list. At the very least, I expect people to have to come to this site and read about them.

The other really disappointing thing that happened was that I failed to win the tournament, or at least get to the final and go home with piles of cash. This was mostly disappointing because I went through the swiss rounds without a loss, and didn't really feel that I was in any danger of losing any of those matches (except against Rik Bryce, where I fucked up on one turn and thought it would cost me the game, but then my next 2 draws were gas), only to lose in the quarterfinals. To a terrible (technical term meaning "full of sub-optimal cards") goblin deck. And I hate goblins. Sigh.

The excursions of the last few weekends mean that I'm totally broke for the forseeable future, which is another depressing thought, and possibly the most depressing of all - when I'm feeling depressed I like to go out and get drunk, but at the moment I'm depressed because I can't afford to do that. If anyone feels like sponsoring me to drink myself into a stupor, then the e-mail address is at the side. Think of it as helping small businesses in the hospitality industry stay afloat, and it sounds much better. Perhaps I can get some kind of government grant.

At least The Salon is back on TV.

2003-09-09T16:32:00.000+01:00

As promised, here are some of the photos Shades took while in Manchester.

This is, from left to right; the attractive girl (either the photo doesn't do her justice, or my judgement was slightly impaired), her boyfriend, me, Stu Healy, and the girl who claimed she could get us into the club for free. The red eyes are entirely down to Shades' lack of skill witht he camera, and nothing at all to do with the amount of alcohol consumed. Stu's practically teetotal. Honest.

This is myself and Stu holding a large sign which we found while we attempted to walk back to the hotel. This was just before we spotted an all night snooker hall and Stu suggested we play a few frames rather than get some sleep, and also just before someone offered to sell us "the best skunk in the world". I'm not sure what the RSPCA would make of that, but we couldn't afford to put his sales pitch to the test anyway.

Now that I'm actually ina position of being able to read the sign, I'm rather disappointed to discover that it was in fact advertising that Eric Morillo was playing in Manchester that night, and that we didn't attend. Without a doubt it would have been much better than the club we did go to.

2003-09-08T18:56:00.000+01:00

So I'm just back from Manchester, where I had a disappointing finish in the PTQ (don't even ask about how lucky a monowhite player can get). It was an enjoyable weekend however, despite costing almost twice as much as I'd hoped, and me getting half as much sleep as I required. We probably shouldn't have gone out to get wasted on Saturday night, but since it leads to an amusing story it's quite fortunate that we're all so weak willed :)

First of all none of us have ever been to Manchester before, and have no idea where to go for good (cheap) bars, clubs, and women. Eddie Ross has warned us that the bus station is in the middle of the "gay area" of Manchester (although he thinks that everyone who speaks with a different accent from him is gay, so he may well have meant all of Manchester by this :/) but we don't remember this until we've walked past at least 3 bars which we think look quite good fun. There did seem to be a rather high proportion of attractive women in those bars, so I've no idea whether they were gay bars or not.

We don't go into any of those bars though, and instead ask some girls if they know of anywhere good. Unfortunately they're not playing the game by the same rules as us, and merely direct us to some bars instead of inviting us to accompany them on a night of drunken excess. Eventually we find a bar which seems to be very trendy, including a live DJ who chops and cuts between tracks like a man posessed while scratching as if his life depended on it. The trendy bar featured some very attractive girls, who left soon after we arrived, and some less attractive girls, who were prepared to speak to us (and by us, I mean me - it'sa every man for himself out there in the "pulling a minger" stakes). Luckily Shades isn't aware of this and drags me away in time, although I do give the girl my home phone number, as she says that she'll be in Dunfermline next weekend (I've only just this minute remembered doing this, and I'm regretting it big style. I may have to change that number). At one point the gorgeeous barmaid appears and asks if I'd like to buy a shot for a pound - I may have misunderstood what she meant by "a shot", as this seemed very cheap for such quality goods, and said I'd have three please. What I got was 3 bubblegum flavoured Vodka's, which was more than enough to make me want t o vomit after 5 hours travelling backwards on a bus.

We leave that bar when it starts closing, and decide to go clubbing, despite not really having any money and having been informed that there'll be a ten pound door charge at most good clubs. Luckily for us we happen to walk past a group of girls, and Stu Healy loves talking to girls in the street. These girls have played the game before, and invite us to come with them (maybe I invite us for them, but it's all the same at this point) as one girl can get us in free. Apparently her ex-boyfriend is a bouncer there, and I'm a sucker for a girl who upon meeting me immediately starts using the "ex" prefix witht he B word. There's only one attractive girl in the group however, but she's not the one who's getting me into Manchester's hottest club fo rfree, so I ignore her for now. The whole "free entry" thing turns out to be a lie however, so I end up paying to get into the night club Manchester doesn't talk about in public. I've been in some bad clubs in my time, but this was right up there witht he worst of them. Anyway, someone hands me a pint which means I'm happy in the short term, and I start talking to one of the girls who brought us here. She's quite friendly, although ican't for the life of me remember her name, and as we're talking the attractive girl comes over and joins us, then suggests we go sit on a big sofa. After we've been chatting for a while, the unattractive girl (I realise it would be simpler for my readers if I remembered names, but I find that in that situation the label is what's important - You can always worry about the name the next morning) mentions that the attractive girl has a boyfriend. Although this doesn't particularly surprise me, I was surprised that she felt the need to mention it since I hadn't even started trying to pull the attractive girl. It turns out however, that the boyfriend has just walked into the club, which is why I'm being warned off. Obviously I ignore the warning, and start asking the attractive girl which one is her boyfriend.

When she eventually points him out, I almost laugh right in her face, as there's no way he should ever be with a girl of her calibre (I'll post pictures once Shades sends me them). I just about manage to control myself, and ask her lots of questions about himwithout listening to the answers. She seems quite happy to talk to me at this point, but after I go to dance with Stu for a while, and she speaks ot the boyfriend, it becomes apparent that he's incredibly insecure about his hold on the attractive girl (with good reason in my opinion) and he doesn't like me talking to her. Rather than go about this in the mature manner, and.... well.... I'm not exactly sure what the mature thing to do in that situation is, but it's certainly not to get your friend to talk to my friend and try to persuade me to leave her alone. Stu, knowing me as he does, tells the friend that I probably don't mean anything by it, she's not really my type etc. All the while gutting himself inside. When stu comes over to tell me this we both have a bit of a laugh about it, and then I decide that it'd be a good idea to provoke the boyfriend. I'm initially going to do this by ignoreing the warning, and just continue talking to the girl, but inspiration strikes and I've got a much better idea. I'm going to go and ask the boyfriend if he knows if the fit girl has a boyfriend, and see how he reacts. I'm hoping at some point he's going to give me an opportunity to ask "so, does she take it up the arse?" because I'm thinking that should be enough to push him over the edge. It's a shocking thing to do, but no matter what I do he cant' really do anything about it without looking blike a total idiot in front of his girlfriend (unless I actually insult her, which I'm not going to do). By getting really jealous he's basically saying that eh doesn't trust hs girlfriend not to shag me in the toilets, which never goes down well in a relationship.

I never get to ask the question however, as the girlfriend prevents me from getting anywhere near the boyfriend, while at the same time stopping him from taking a swing at me. They obviously havea little talk, and she gets the message through, as by the time we're leaving the club and I'm talking to the boyfriend he's all friendly. Even when I say "that girl's got a fantastic arse don't you think?" as we go up the stairs behind his girlfriend.

2003-08-26T20:03:00.000+01:00

"Could you stop staring at me please."

Oh shit, she's noticed that he was staring at her.

"I was just admiring your ear-rings. They're very pretty."
"They were a present from my boyfriend."
"Then he obviously has excellent taste."
"Actually he's my ex-boyfriend. He left me for a girl he worked with."
"Ahh, maybe his taste isn't so good then."

He gestures towards the copy of 'The Lord of the Rings' she is holding.

"Are you enjoying the book?"
"I only started reading it the other day. Everyone keeps telling me the book is much better than the films, so I thought I should read it."
"It's been my favourite book for years. Well, that and 'Crime and Punishment'."

He has noticed the folder of notes in her bag, alongside a copy of Tolstoy's biography, and guesses she's a literature student.

"Oh God, yeah. I read that last year and loved it."

She's waiting for something extra...

"I think Guilt is the most interesting emotion. And I found myself identifying with Rakolnikov's alienation from society. That's probably why I enjoy it."
"I know what you mean. Look, I'm sorry I was rude before.... I thought you were.... well....."

He knows he's got her, he only has to reel her in.

"Don't worry about it. You can't be too careful nowadays."

The train is approaching his station. Time to make his move.

"This is my stop. Look, would you like to go for a drink with me sometime? I realise this is a bit weird, but I don't meet many interesting girls."

She blushes.

"I'd like that."

She produces a pen from her bag, and writes her number down for him.

"Give me a call, soon?"

The train pulls into the station. He stands up, pocketing the phone number.

"Sure, I'll speak to you soon."

God I love public transport.

2003-08-25T14:42:00.000+01:00

2003-08-24T12:22:00.000+01:00

Saturday evening television has peaked for the year, and after this it's all downhill. I'm obviously talking about yesterday's lineup of Fame Academy, followed by Pop Idol and The Weakest Link Page 3 Special (some of you will have realised that in order to see both Pop Idol and the Page 3 Weakest Link I must have videoed one of them - no prizes for guessing which one). In the end, Leilani was edged out by Jakki, who had earlier admitted that what she was good at on Page 3 was "getting my boobs out I suppose". It's girls like that who are the future of our country, I'm sure. Actually, I'm only mentioning this so that google turns up my blog when people search for the words "Page 3", "Jakki", "Leilani", and "Pictures" (see what I did there?).

Fame Academy is proving to be quite disappointing this time round, as they've changed the format since last year. This time round all the students have to sing on Saturday night, which I think ultimately results in less internal politics within the Academy, and also means that we viewers don't get to see as much of the stuff which happens during the week (unless we're prepared to shell out for digital television). Fortunately Pop Idol is maintaining the high standards of comedy which it set the first time around, so everything's "ok". I'll be spending tomorrow afternoon playing cards in a pub, which doesn't seem all that exciting until you hold it up next to my normal daily routine. With a bit of luck I'll get completely pissed, and try to pick up the barmaid. With a bit more luck, I won't.

2003-08-19T22:15:00.000+01:00

Today I once again made a trip to the job centre to sign on, and once again the computer search turned up no suitable jobs for me to apply for this week. Apparently the staff at the jobcentre still haven't realised that I'm pulling the ethernet cable out of their PC just as soon as they log onto the database - another lucky escape. I also seem to have sorted out my issues with Barclaycard (little things like me owing them money, me not paying that money, them sending my account to collections etc.) and my television will not be getitng reposessed any time soon. With a bit of luck I won't end up on a credit blacklist either, and I'll still be able to run up a huge debt and flee the country in later life. At the moment I'm connected to the internet my the equivalent of two paper cuos and a length of string (and it's frayed piece of string at that), and I'm trying not to breath heavily near the connectors. My house is also full of Sunday School teachers, which is disturbing on 'oh so many' levels - if I'm on the news tomorrow drenched in blood you'll know what happened.

I spoke to Lauren the other day, and I'm going to go and stay with her for a bit next month, to keep her company when her gran goes on holiday. I'm not sure exactly what she has in mind, but I'm sure I'll have fun and it'll be a learning experience for at least one of us (by which I obviously mean that we can share our different tastes in music, and that sort of thing - Christ, you people have dirty minds). I'm really looking forward to it (settle!) because I really need to get away from my parents for a while. I was hoping that I could go to London this weekend, and play Magic, but I can't afford it which is disappointing as I missed last years Grand Prix, and European Championships earlier this year. Hopefully once I've got a job I'll be able to travel to some of the other European events later in the year.

Finally, I was talking about Flash Mobs the other day, and then I was informed of this group who are organising one in edinburgh. While they don't seem to have my sense of vision (Flash Mobs are sooooo five minutes ago), I might go just for a laugh, an excuse to get out of the house, and a chance to have a drink with some friends. You know you've hit rock bottom when the thought of drinking yourself into oblivion in the company of the people I call friends* is all that's keeping you going :(

*No offense meant to these people - you are my friends after all.

2003-08-18T12:59:00.000+01:00

The tax man's taken all my dough, and left me in my stately home

I got a letter from the Inland Revenue today, and to my surprise it wasn't telling me that I owed them money. Unfortunately all the other mail I recieved today was from people I owe monery to, but things are definitely looking up. The letter from the Inland Revenue was in fact inviting me to attend a "work sample test" which is the next step in the process of getting a job with them. According to the information I've been sent the test is to "assess whether you have these competances to the level needed: Forward thinking, Written Communication, Decision Making, and Analytical Skills". Many of you are probably thinking that I'm in trouble, but luckily they also sent me a Practice Booklet with sample questions, and it seems as if the test is designed to assess whether I know the difference between the letters 'A' and 'B', and whether I have the reading level of an 8 year old. If I start practising now, I'm sure I'll be able to scrape through by the time of my appointment.

On another note, todays website of choice offers hours of fun. It's like having an atari again.

2003-08-15T12:17:00.000+01:00

Jump Around

So I was reading in the paper this morning that Flash Mobs have made it to Manchester, a well known cultural capital. Unfortunately someone had tipped off the cinema where the mob would queue, open their umbrella's, and claim that they were waiting to see Rain Man, thus proving that once again the English have taken an American concept and completely misunderstood the point. First it was taking fast food and removing the adjective, now this. Apparently these mobs are becoming incredibly popular all over the world (the Germans in particular have become quite fascinated) and therefore I can only conclude that the time of the flashmob is past. It was a good idea, but like so many things it loses it's appeal once it becomes part of mainstream culture. When the Daily Express is doing a feature on it, you know the jig is up (which is a really cool phrase, and just because my granny uses it doesn't mean it's not still 'street').

Since the golden days of flashmobbing are behind us, I've taken it upon myself to try and restore it's underground appeal by putting a new twist on it - antimobbing. The idea is simple: we organise things by e-mail, so that at a given time and place people don't show up, thus leaving a big open space with no people in it. Imagine the chaos this will cause in the lives of those people who don't know what's happening. Obviously this grand enterprise will need a lot of planning, and require a great deal of secrecy to ensure that the authorities don't get wind of it (can you imagine the police reaction to a large group of people spontaneously failing to be in a certain place at a certain time?), but I think we can do it. So here's the deal - cut and paste the following section into an e-mail, and send it to everyone in your address book (or you could just send a copy to yourself, including the word "gangbang" in the subject line, and wait for this weeks virus of choice to distribute it to everyone in your address book):

To:
Cc:
Subject: Anti-Mob #1

Anti-Mob #1 will *NOT* take place on Thursday the 21st of August in Edinburgh City Centre. Participants should, by 14:35pm, *NOT* have made their way to the Standing Order pub on George Street. Once they are not there, they will not see a man in a purple shell suit sitting at the bar. Participants should wait until they don't see him order a Banana Daiquiri before not approaching him, at which point he *WILL NOT* give you instructions as to the location of the Anti-Mob. Participants should then make sure that they are avoiding the location of the Anti-Mob by 14:42pm exactly. At this time, participants *SHOULD NOT* put on the baseball caps they haven't brought with them, and *UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES* should they start asking staff at the location if they can have their ball back. These are the only words which participants are not allowed to say, unless someone actually gives you your ball back in which case you *MUST NOT SAY* "This isn't mine, mine had brown hair". At 14:49pm exactly, participants *SHOULD NOT* remove their caps, and disperse.

IMPORTANT: ALL PARTICIPANTS *MUST NOT* BRING A BASEBALL CAP WITH THEM TO ANTI-MOB #1

I look forward to not seeing you all there,

Weeble (& Bob)

(to not join the Anti-Mob mailing list and not recieve details of all forthcoming anti-mobs, *DO NOT* send a blank e-mail to subscribe@anti-mob.co.uk)

2003-08-09T12:34:00.000+01:00

And I find it kinda funny, and I find it kinda sad....

Wow, I seem to have become one of those people who only updates their blog once a week (if that). I hate those people - it's so annoying to have put in the effort to actually visit their site, only to find no updates. So I'm now apologising officially, and I'll try harder in future. The main reason that I haven't been updating recently is that I'm still living in Dunfermline, which means total boredom combined with a dialup internet connection. Neither of these things is conducive to me writing interesting blog entries, so I haven't bothered. Again, sorry.

I had some really weird dreams last night (well, actually this morning - you know when you've woken up, and go back to sleep only to have a dream which you wake up remembering, then fall asleep and dream something else?), but I can only remember what two of them were like. The first one was strange, because it was sort of a continuation of a dream I had a few weeks ago (although it didn't start out like that) and which I had completely forgotten about until this morning. It started off with me coaching a tennis team, which in itself is strange since I haven't played tennis at all for about 4 years, but then for some reason I was trying to find the perfect footbath. Obviously the perfect footbath turned out to be a natural rock formation on a remote scottish island, although for some reason the remote island was right next to the forth rail bridge. This was quite useful however, as it allowed me to identify the island despite the only evidence I had being a photograph taken from footbath (I told you it was weird) showing the bridge and a building on the island. Once I was on the island, I was trying to find the building in the photograph and work out exactly where it had been taken from. I wasn't alone on the island however, but I won't name the young lady who was there with me for legal reasons (not actual legal reasons you understand, I just don't want people to know that I was dreaming about her). This is where it gets really weird - we find the house in the photograph, and then for some reason we start wading around in the river next to the house. As we're wading along the side of the jetty (complete with a rowing boat which has aspirations of being a collander) I see some movement out of the corner of my eye, and when I turn around I see a naked woman in the water under the jetty. This might not seem so strage when you consider the state of my sex life, but the woman in question was clearly dead (you know the way female corpses look in films, when they have clearly drowned - lots of dark makeup around her bloodshot eyes, very pale blueish skin, weeds tangled in her hair etc.) and the strange thing was I remembered her, and the house, from a dream I had ages ago. I even remembered her name, Simone, although I can't really remember what the previous dream had been about, only that she was in it, the house was in it, and that she drowned.

Now I don't know about you, but when a dead woman from a dream you had weeks ago turns up in another one of your dreams, it seems rude to me to ignore her. At the very least, you should ask how she's getting on and comment on the weather we're having. I was however, just a little bit shocked by her appearance so all I was able to say was her name (at least I remembered it, which is more than can be said for some actual women who I met a few weeks ago, or in many cases the night before), to which she replied "This is part of his story too". This was the point at which things became too weird for my brain to deal with, and I woke up shaking uncontrollably (possibly the strangest thing of all, as your brain locks out motor control when you dream to prevent you from hurting yourself). I have no idea what any of this means, but if anyone out there has any ideas feel free to share them.

The other dream I can remember having this morning was after this one (I had about 4, because I was woken by both my parents leaving the house, and then my brother leaving later on), and wasn't nearly so weird. I dreamed that I had come home to my house, but that our burglar alarm had been upgraded because our neighbours house was on fire (it makes sense on some level I'm sure). After I let myself in with my key, I couldn't work out how to lock the new door which seemed to have two locks - one of the locks wasn't attached to the door in any way, but that seems like a minor point. As I was trying to work out the new locks, the burglar alarm was sounding to let me know that I had to turn it off, but when I got to the control panel the only numbers on the keypad were 1, 2, 3, 8, and 5 which made it impossible for me to enter the actual code for the alarm. Somehow I managed to turn the alarm off, and then noticed that next to the keypad was a display showing the status of the CCTV cameras in the house (not that we actualy have CCTV cameras in the house, but this was a new alarm system so....). It looked like each of the rooms had a camera, but there were also several other cameras which were moving around, and which turned out to be little wooden insects, which looked like children's toys but actually contained cameras and could be controlled like radio controlled cars. The insects had working legs/wings and you could fly them around the place if you wanted to move the cameras. Not so much weird as pretty cool.

Anyways, apart from some weird dreams, nothing much seems to be happening with my life. My parents are still driving me crazy - I had the revelation the other day that although I sometimes don't mind them being here, most of the time I really hate the fact that they're here, I'm never really glad that they're here. They're like the kid from school who you normally didn't mind, but who occasionally made you want to kill him - except the other way round. I'm now really hoping that I get one of the jobs I have applied for, and can move back to edinburgh soon. I'm going to play some Magic tomorrow, which gets me out of the house and into the pub (this can only be a good thing, right?). On another note, my brother passed his driving test which means he'll be forced to chaffeur me around for the rest of my stay in Dunfermline - I knew there was a reason I never learned to drive ;)

2003-07-30T15:23:00.000+01:00

So.... it's been a quiet few days without any posting. Caoimhe left me a voicemail message last ngiht, so hopefully she's coming to visit me and relieve the boredom. Only problem is, she asked me to return the call on one of two numbers - one of which she didn't tell me, and the other of which is a mobile phone which is constantly turned off. For those of you out there who intend to leave a message for someone at some point in the future, if you want them to return your call then you have to give them a number on which they can actually reach you. Apparently Jane has been asking when I'm returning to the Southern Bar pub quiz as well, so takings are obviously down by a significant amount. I might try to head through next week, although it seems like an awful lot of effort.

Since nothing really interesting is happening, I thought I'd post a conversation which just took place somewhere on the internet - for those of you who have no idea what any of this means, or who any of the people are, suffice to say it's quite amusing for those who do:

<Victorvdb> the best tech we came up
<Victorvdb> with
<Victorvdb> is turn 1 arcanis
<Victorvdb> stifle the casting cost
<Victorvdb> bam
<MWraith> LOL
<MWraith> wasn't their anything better than Arcanis?
<MWraith> lol
<Victorvdb> and the 60 cards battle of wits deck
<Victorvdb> where you stifle the part where it says 0 in 250
<MWraith> ooh
<MWraith> that's gas
<larkin> does that work?
<Victorvdb> see
<Victorvdb> broken! :D
<MWraith> john
<MWraith> lol
<larkin> heh
<larkin> i have no idea
<larkin> whats stifle?
<larkin> :)
<MWraith> stifle doesn't say 'do whatever the fuck you want' luckily
<Victorvdb> stifle = U - instant - do what ever the fuck you want as long as you don't counter a spell
<Victorvdb> :D
<MWraith> ok
<MWraith> that was pretty quick too
<larkin> so it doesnt work then?
<Victorvdb> damage on the stack?
<Victorvdb> stifle it
<Victorvdb> of course it works
<Victorvdb> you just have to carefully aim stifle
<Victorvdb> because if you accidentally take out the 2 out of 250
<Victorvdb> you might not win
<larkin> heh
<MWraith> yeah
<MWraith> but why aim at the 0
<MWraith> aiming at the 5 is obv better
<MWraith> although
<Victorvdb> it's closer to the 2
<MWraith> you might miss a little to the left
<Victorvdb> riskier

Crazy (in love).

2003-07-26T17:40:00.000+01:00

I spent this afternoon at the park with my cousin Ailie. She's 18 months old, and possibly the cutest thing in the world. She also has far too much energy for me to keep up with - if it wasn't for the fact that she runs around in circles, then gets dizzy and falls over, I'm sure she'd have lost us very early on. It's a bit weird that I enjoy spending time with her so much, and the last time I mentioned this in my blog certain people (you know who you are) accused me of geting broody, which I suppose is true. I'm in no rush to have kids of my own, but I'm more than happy to act like a fool for the amusement of other peoples - as long as I don't have to go changing nappies or anything like that. After running around chasing a ball (and some seagulls) for an hour, we had ice cream and then played on the swings.

Playing on the swings today has taught me two important things:

1) Everyone will think that the 18 month old kid yo're there with is yours

2) Not all the mothers at the playpark are single

The second one may seem obvious, but in this day and age, it came as something of a shock to me. Even once I had accepted that some of the women would be attached, I thought that there would be some kind of dress code - the women who had clearly dressed with the intention of picking up men would be single, and the frumpy ones would be attached. However, it seems that even the women in skintight jeans and Gucci sunglasses can have boyfriends, and that the boyfriends won't be impressed when you try to strike up a conversation with the mum. Sigh.

At least I didn't get hit this time.

On another note, there has recently been a migration among my friends from blogger to livejournal, and that during this move thay have changed the name of their journals. Let me just say for the record, that almost every new name is significantly less witty than the old one. In fact some of the new names are so much less impressive than the old ones, I'm convinced that it has been done purely to annoy me by making me change the link on this page. crazy_edd recently said in his blog that "the revolution starts here". In actual fact, the revolution starts here, because I'm refusing to move. He was however correct when he said that the revolution would not be televised, as none of the major channels was interested. I'm still in negotiations for radio coverage though.

2003-07-22T16:08:00.000+01:00

Whaddya mean I don't qualify for disability allowance?

I went to the jobcentre to sign on this morning, and it could possibly be the funniest "interview" I have ever had in my life. My appointment was at 9:40am, so obviously I showed up late. I sit around for 20 minutes thinking that they'll call my name out at some point, or at the very least ask who I am and why I'm sitting there. Only when the man sitting opposite me stands up do I see the sign on the wall behind where he has been sitting, which says "If you are late for your signing appointment, please inform the Enquiries Desk". So I head over to the enquiries desk, where I talk to a man who has clearly just walked out of a new age travellers commune. At this point I'm slightly worried, as this is my first time signing on and I've turned up late. I also haven't actually done anything about trying to find a job this week, so I'm slightly concerned about the questions regarding this. The conversation between myself and the hippy man goes something like this:

<DougieP> Hi, I had a signing appointment at 9:40 but I was a little bit late. Sorry.
<Hippy> You really shouldn't show up late for your appointments.
<DougieP> I know, I'm just really bad at getting up in the morning.
<Hippy> Oh.
*** Hippy calls my file up on the computer and enters some information ***
<Hippy> I take it you've been checking the papers for employment?
<DougieP> Errr, yeah. Ok.
<Hippy> ????
<Hippy> You know that you have to be actively seeking a job to claim this benefit? You are actively seeking a job aren't you?
<DougieP> Errr, yeah. Sure.
<Hippy> Fair enough. Sign here please.
*** I sign the form ***
<Hippy> Ok, that's it.
<DougieP> Errr, ok. When do I get my money?

And people wonder why so many people are commiting benefits fraud in this country? They practically throw the money at you, provided you managed to fill in the confusing form in the first place. I suppose that the form is confusing enough to prevent some people from ever applying (and possibly to drive some people to suicide - I for example couldn't understand whether the "Do you have any endorsements?" question wanted me to declare my Nike sponsorship deal), but it does seem that the people responsible for making sure I'm doing my utmost to find employment could be a little more thorough. I mean it's my taxes that these people are distributing to the masses. Well, it would be if I had actually paid any taxes.

However my interview was by no means the slackest that I was witness to in the 30 minutes I was there, with some of them lasting under 60 seconds and involving no exchange of words between claimant and interviewer. One man, when asked if he had been checking the papers for jobs, replied that he had been away on holiday for the last 2 weeks. In Tenerife. Now to me, the idea of people claiming benefit heading off on holiday for 2 weeks would be a sign that they're on the make, but maybe I'm just paranoid. There was also a man who was trying to claim travel expenses which could only be paid into a bank account, which he claimed not to have. Now fair enough some people don't have bank accounts, but I can't think of a single legitimate reason why you wouldn't want to open one. What's even worse is that the man was claiming that he used to have a bank account, but that he closed it and now his benefits are sent to him as cheques which he can cash at the post office. Again, my paranoid brain begins to doubt the validity of this man's claims.

I therefore conclude that the only satisfactory answer is for the jobcentre to employ me. My naturally devious mind is exactly what's required to discover benefit cheats, as I'd probably spend all the time I was working there trying to figure out how I could defraud the government. If there's any recruitment officers out there, my e-mail address is over there on the right. This suggestion has nothing to do with the talent level of jobcentre staff at all. Honest.

2003-07-20T20:12:00.000+01:00

Take Me Dancing, Naked in the Rain

I had the best time at Lauren's party last night, despite not knowing anyone there except her. I'm normally not very good at getting on with groups of new people, but Lauren's friends are all really nice and very friendly (to the point of laughing at my jokes, which goes above and beyond the call of duty). None of them, however, impressed me as much as Lauren's Gran, who turned up at around midnight to a house full of drunken teenagers and didn't bat an eyelid. She even offered us bacon and sausages for breakfast this morning (although this later turned out to be false information, as bacon rolls were not forthcoming). My family should take note.

Fortunately Edd's prediction that the party would be a bunch of guys sititng around getting stoned proved wrong, and there were nice girls for me talk to. Some of the outfits on display were rather revealing, and there was a little girl-girl action going on as well, which is clearly what you're looking for in a party. I may have been a little bit drunk, but not as bad as I normally am (obviously showing a bit of respect for someone else's home), although I did back to Lauren's house.get a bit lost in Beith and was fortunate to find who could show me the way

Anyway, the bit you've all been waiting for: Yes, I met a girl who's name was Laura. Yes, she was slightly younger than me. Yes, I would be happy to hear from her again. No, I didn't remember to give her my number or to get hers. Yes, I am a very stupid man.

I think the reason I had such a good time is that I hadn't been to a party like that since I left school, and it reminded me how much simpler everything used to be. Kinda makes me wish I could go back to being 17.

2003-07-17T15:02:00.000+01:00

Does anyone know how to file for bankruptcy?

So today I recieve a bill from the University Accomadation Services (the people we have been renting our flat from for the last year) for the cost of replacing the lock on our flat. Why would the lock need replaced? Well, the lock would need replaced because someone failed to return their keys when they moved out. Now as I alreeady mentioned in this blog, someone went off to London the week we moved out, rather than returning and helping me to clean the flat. At the time, I wasn't overly upset about this, as someone is a friend. However I'm now beginning to get slightly annoyed. I mean how someone not realise that the keys would have to be returned? I know for a fact that someone read the same letter I did regarding the date we had to move out by, because after I got fed up with someone querying the date I gave him the letter to read. Maybe he skimmed past the part that said "This represents the latest date by which you must have vacated the premises and returned your keys" (that may not have ben the exact phrase used, as I'm quoting that from memory, but the returning of the keys was definitely mentioned).

Although even if someone did miss that specific part about the keys, did he really think that renting the flat for a year meant that he got a set of keys for life? Anyway, I'm now slightly concerned about our final electricity and gas bills which will arrive in the next couple of weeks. Someone has informed me that he "genuinely has no money" and that he won't be able to pay those bills until the start of next year. Fantastic. I also have no money, and will be relying on my parents to bail me out with those bills until I can pay them back. I doubt they'll be very happy to hear that the other half of the bill isn't getting payed by someone. To make matters worse, the bills are all in my name because, despite my protestations at the time, someone wasn't able/willing to organise any of that. I distinctly remember saying at the time that I didn't want bills to be payed out of my bank account, and someone asking me if I thought he wasn't going to be able to pay his share of them. If I wasn't so annoyed about this I'd be getting out my "I told you so" T-shirt as we speak.

Anyway, I'm going to leave it there before I say something I will regret later. The most annoying thing about this is that it could have been avoided so easily, and would never have been an issue with most people. Someone's defence that I didn't remind him he would have to return his keys before he moved out, rather than a month afterwards, seems woefully inadequate to me. Has he really reached the age of twenty by relying entirely on other people to remind him of things? Is he completely unable to think for himself, and to take responsibility for himself?

2003-07-14T16:56:00.000+01:00

Blowing It

I've decided to steal as many chapter titles from Trainspotting as possible, as Irvine Welsh is a much better writer than me. Plagarism is the purest from of flattery after all.

So I went throught to Edinburgh to cast Magical Spells yesterday, and after taking second place in the tourney I headed to the pub with Darryl and Stevie for a couple of quiet pints. This was asking for trouble, and my lack of willpower showed itself with me and Stevie ending up hitting the grassmarket pubs. Darryl decided that he was going home because he starts a new job today, and he didn't feel that turning up smelling of booze on his first day was a good idea. Also, despite my best efforts to persaude them, Lez and Nat (Darryl's flatmate/best friend) decided not to join us. Some people just aren't dedicated enough to the cause. On the plus side, the phone conversation I had with Nat may be the funniest thing I have ever been involved with, and I hope that Darryl remembers what was said and asks Nat for her end of the conversation, as I am unable to recall little details like that.

I talk to some girls, but none of them seem interesting (interested?) so it's not very long before I start into the thinly veiled insults. Stevie and I then talk to two older women, whos names I cannot for the life of me remeber, and once I realise that there is absolutely no chance of the (more) attractive one having sex with me the conversation is actually quite entertaining. Ok, I'm guessing that it was entertaining because everything is a little blurry, but we all leave the pub together and Stevie heads home because he has work. Before leaving, he does offer me some floorspace for the night but I decide that I'm not in need of floorspace because I'm going to meet some girls.

This is where it all starts to go wrong.

If you are in this situation, where you have missed the last bus/train back to your hometown, you're slightly inebriated (a much more polite way of putting it than "falling down drunk"), and your friend is offering you somewhere to sleep take him up on his kind offer. Do not head to another bar (which is ludicrously named "Abbar" and disco themed) with two women twenty years older than you. Especially do not get ID'd by the doorman, and when he doesn't accept your student ID do not become very annoyed with him. This will only result in him refusing you entry to his establishment when you do eventually find your passport because you are "mouthy". This is perfectly reasonable for him to do, because you are in fact mouthy. Do not respond to this character assement with the words "Well I think you're 'Moronic'. Or do I move onto the next letter in the alphabet?". I can assure you that he will not be impressed with your wit, and as he is undoubtedly a large man with large friends you will now be in real physical danger.

Luckily for me the other doormen were slightly more intelligent than their colleague, and realised that him breaking me on the dorstep wouldn't be a smart idea. I am however, still refused entry so I head next door to the worst club in Edinburgh, Subway. On my own. Fortunately I meet some nice girls who explain that they are on the run from the police. I'm not one to judge, and they buy me a drink, so I talk to them for a while before they decide to head next door (to a third bar sandwiched between Subway and Abbar). I go with them, but am turned away by the doormen who didn't like me insulting their friend, so I head back into Subway and continue drinking.

A girl on the dance floor makes eye contact with me, smiles, and waves me to come over and dance with her. Ever teh gentleman I comply with her wishes, and we dance for a bit then go and sit down. At this point she becomes very agitated, and whn her friend asks what's wrong she replies that she upset because I'm gay. I explain that I'm actually not, and that I'm actually interested in her, but she refuses to accept this and disappears towards the toilets. I stay and chat to her friend, and in the middle of the conversation I'm suddenly lifted out of my chair and dragged out of the club by two bouncers. Actually lifted, no warning, and physically thrown out of the club. When I ask what I have done to deserve this rough treatment I am informed that I was "bothering" the girls I had been talking to, although they appeared shortly afterwards and asked why I had been thrown out, claiming that they hadn't complained at all. I can only assume that these bouncers were also displeased at me insulting their friends next door.

By this point I'm in a very bad mood, so I decide that I'm going to chat to the bouncers in a mature, non-antagonistic manner. The words "Were you born retarded, or is there a school somewhere?" may or may not have passed my lips. The bouncers don't really rise to the challenge of inventing witty retorts, are resort to the traditional "Fuck off before you get hurt", but I'm not going to be denied and I manage to drag the exchange out for a good ten minutes. Then I go and sit down ina doorway, since I have nowhere better to go and I'm still confident that I can end the evening in a woman's bed.

Well, perhaps confident is a bit strong. Obviously my enterprise was doomed to failure from the start, as even the fugitives aren't prepared to take me home with them (one of the girls did produce a pen and write her phone number on my arm, but it was unreadable in the morning) so I decide to sleep right there in the doorway. That's right, I spent last night sleeping on the streets of Edinburgh. I could have been raped an murdered, but worse than that my bag full of cards could have been stolen. Still we live and learn.

I spoke to Lauren today, and she invited me to her birthday party next weekend, so that's something to look forward to. She also encouraged me to buy her some underwear, which in my book is shameless flirting. Not that I'm complaining. She also questioned my love for her, so to put the record straight I do, in fact, love Lauren. Even the pink hair was not enough to dissuade me. I think it might be because she's always telling me that I'm cute, or hot or really good looking. Any girl who can lie so convincingly to someone's face is obviously a keeper.

Oh - and on a final note especially for Lez, I now have a rabbit. Technically it's not mine, I'm merely responsible for it while the girl across the street is on holiday but I figure that she's not getting it back. The rabbit's name is Flopsy, and it looks exactly like the rabbit from Fatal Attraction (before the unpleasant boiling incedent obviously).

2003-07-10T16:12:00.000+01:00

Kicking Again

Things have been quiet of late, as there really isn't all that much to do in Dunfermline. I went shopping on Monday night, and came home with two pairs of Jeans. I also went and got my hair cut yesterday, and as usual I had randomly made my appointment with the least attractive member of staff in the establishment. I'm not sure how I manage this, but every time I go to a new hairdressers I end up making an appointment with the only member of staff who who isn't a wet dream with scissors in her hand. I'm also not sold on whether this is a bad thing, as I'm pretty sure I'd be unable to convey my wishes about the styling of my hair to some of these women. At least the girl who washed my hair was pretty and, like most of the other hair washing girls who's aquaintence I have made, she seems to really enjoy her job. The amount of effort she out into massaging those suds into my scalp leads me to believe that she was (also) getting something sexual out of it. This could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship. On the other hand, someone could read this, get a restraining order, and I'll be doomed to having unkempt hair for the rest of my life. Between the new jeans (for the first time in ages I own three pairs of Jeans that I actually like) and the haircut, I now look presentable both to potential employers and the opposite sex. If only there was anything to do in Dunfermline worth leaving the house for.

Earlier on today, I found a CD that I'd bought ages ago but never listened to, so now the house is filled with the pumping baseline of Dirty Vegas and Timo Maas. I also started to re-read a book by Richard Dawkins about natural selection from a genetic point of view, which has started me thinking about Sex (because I clearly need an excuse to start thinking about it) so you can no doubt expect something from me in the next couple of days on that subject. I'm also thinking about phoning Karen later on, and asking if she wants to do somthing which will get me out of the house. Some of you will be questioning the workings of my mind which led me from thinking about Sex (I capitalised it both times - what do you think that means children?) to thinking about calling Karen. All I can say is that I've been listening to a lot of dance music today, and I'm feeling totally euphoric. I'm in the zone. I just want to take some pills and hug a bunch of sweaty dancing people.

I may have to settle for watching Human Traffic again.

Ailie is coming round to our house again this weekend, which is something to look forward to. The occasion is my Grandad's birthday, so I'm hoping that someone has bought him a present and added my name to the card, otherwise things could get ugly. It was actually my Mum and Dad's weeding aniversary yesterday, and I managed to remember and provide both a card, and a box of Thorntons chocolates (I didn't actually remember, but fortunately my Dad had given my Mum some flowers at the weekend, and I asked why they were there yesterday). I wanted to get somehting a bit more original than chocolates, but Thorntons is an easy shop to shoplift from and I'm a little short of cash.

I also talked to Stallboy today and he sent me a load of photos from his class at college (he described the photos as filtered, which means he removed all the photos of guys from the folder before he sent me it - he knows me quite well) and having discussed the pics with him, I'm planning on travelling to Wales at some point to visit him. With a bit of luck, I can arrange to go see Caoimhe and Izzy as well, although I'm not sure if I'll be able to go before they return to University after the summer. Maybe during the Christmas holidays, but who knows (another sticking point is that I haven't spoken to either of the girls about this, and they're sure to do their best to prevent me from meeting their families or friends - I figure I might need the ten weeks of the first term to convince them it's a good idea).

I'm also trying to sort out some webspace at virgin.net so that I can make music I'm listening to, or pictures I'm looking at available. Unfortunately I'm having "issues" with their ftp server - apparently you need to actually be using virgin.net as your ISP or something.... More on that when it's sorted.

2003-07-04T14:31:00.000+01:00

I found this today on Buttermint's Blog, and thought it was amusing enough to share:

"The heaviest element known to science was recently discovered by investigators at a major US research university. The element, tentatively named administratium, has no protons or electrons and thus has an atomic number of 0. However, it does have one neutron, 125 assistant neutrons, 75 vice neutrons and 111 assistant vice neutrons, which gives it an atomic mass of 312.

These 312 particles are held together by a force that involves the continuous exchange of meson-like particles called morons. It is also surrounded by vast quantities of lepton-like particles called peons.

Since it has no electrons, administratium is inert. However, it can be detected chemically as it impedes every reaction it comes in contact with. According to the discoverers, a minute amount of administratium causes one reaction to take over four days to complete when it would normally have occurred in less than a second.

Administratium has a normal half-life of approximately three years, at which time it does not decay, but instead undergoes a reorganization in which a portion transfers to the assistant neutrons, vice neutrons and assistant vice neutrons. In fact, an administratium sample's mass actually INCREASES over time, since with each reorganization, some of the
morons inevitably become neutrons, forming new isotopes.

This characteristic of moron promotion leads some scientists to speculate that perhaps administratium is spontaneously formed whenever morons reach a certain quantity in concentration. This hypothetical quantity is referred to as "critical morass"."

In other news, the European Championships are on in London, and I'm not there. This is what happens when you drop out of Uni and don't immediately get a job kids - you miss out on the chance to go drinking in London with friends you haven't seen in ages. Speaking of jobs, I went to the jobcentre yesterday and the girl who helped me used to be in my PE class at school. Back then she was completely mad, always getting into fights, geting expelled and the like. Now she's giving me advice on how to go about finding a job, and asking whether I have a CV - crazy.

She's also much more attractive than I remembered (this may have somehting to do with her not trying to assault me with a hockey stick yesterday) and I did get a bit excited when she asked me for my phone number. Turns out that was only so she could put it into my computer record, and she crushed the dream completely minutes later when she informed me that she was seeing someone. This information was supplied without any prompting or inquiry from myself, so either she wants me and is letting me know that I'll have to see off this other guy first, or I was staring at her tits too blatantly. I know which one my money's on. Either way, I now have a good reason for retrning to the jobcentre regularly (a better reason than this whole "employment" thing anyway) which is good on multiple counts. (a) It gets me out of the house, and thusly stops me arguing wih my parents, and (b) It stops my parents hassling me to actually do something about getting a job, rather than spending all day on the internet. And even if Angela isn't desperate to ditch her boyfriend for me, the talent level among jobcentre employees is suspiciously high - I'm sure this is the sort of thing which is encouraging people to remain unemployed, or indeed to commit benefits fraud.

2003-06-30T21:05:00.000+01:00

In all the exitement of moving out of my flat, I forgot to mention yesterday that I spoke to Jane in the pub on Friday night. She subtly let it slip that she has started dating one of the bouncers from Gaia, and when I didn't comment she repeated this fact in a less subtle manner. Obviously I was expecting something like this, and it's probably for the best since the idea of going out with her scares me a bit. I'm also clearly not her type (I'm guessing that she prefers older men, rather than guys who look about fifteen and spend all their time in front of a computer. Funny that.

2003-06-29T22:08:00.000+01:00

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

Yesterday I moved out of the flat in Edinburgh, and back in with my parents in Dunfermline. They were picking my up at 10am, and I had been informed that they would be very unhappy if I didn't have all my stuff packed, and the flat cleaned when they turned up. Unfortunately, I had put off packing until Friday, and I decided to go play FNM (Friday Night Magic, for those of you with social lives) and have a few beers. Obviously this turned into a trip to the pub where we stayed until closing time, and then Fraser and I went for food. I offered to let Fraser stay at mine rather than get a taxi home. but this meant that I couldn't really start the packing and tidying when I got in. So I went to bed for 3 hours, and got up to start tidying at 6am. Those of you who have seen my flat will realise that I had underestimated the amount of time required to clean my flat by a good 4 hours, never mind the time taken to pack all my stuff. I started off strong with the packing, but when I attempted to deal with the dirty dishes Edd had left in the sink for the last month, I hit problems. The plates, clases, pans, cutlery, and utensils were covered in some kind of green mold, and smelt disgusting. So much so that I actually vomited twice before I had washed them all - Edd now owes me big style, as he had buggered off to London to play cards rather than come and help me clean the flat.

What with this set back, I fell slightly behind schedule. By about 6 hours. Lets just say that things weren't quite ready when my parents turned up. Luckily for me, this meant that they were disgusted by the state of my flat (I should note that I had actually cleaned up the worst of it, and they still assumed that it hadn't been cleaned all year), and immediately started cleaning it up for me. Unfortunately, they spent the entire time they were in teh flat (about 2 hours) telling me how disgusting I was - and I normally only get that from girls in the Cavendish! During the cleaning process my mum went through my drawers checking that I hadn't forgotten to pack anything, and it turns out that what I'd forgotten to pack was a porn DVD that my boss brought back from Belgium for me. For some reason she wasn't very happy about this, despite my protests that I hadn't bought it, and that it was pretty crap as far as porn went. I finally made it out of the flat, and I felt pretty weird about leaving. On the one hand I was happy that I wouldn't be living in the middle of an environmental health danger zone anymore, but on the other hand I really don't like being in Dunfermline. I especially don't like being at home with my parents, since I am treated like a ten year old with learning difficulties rather than an adult. Regular readers may have gathered that I don't get on particularly well with my parents, for a variety of reasons. Caoimhe thinks that I'm trying to hard not to be like them, and while I know that I am doing this I don't believe it's possible to be trying too hard. I have nightmares in which I turn into my parents. They are the textbook example of how not to raise your children.

Anyway, I'm back in Dunfermline, and after less than twelve hours of being in the house with my family I needed to escape. So I went back through to Edinburgh to play in a Magic tournament, whcih I won. Hopefully I'll be able to sell my prizes on Friday, and will actually have some money for once. I enjoyed the tournament, so I may even go to the bother of writing a tournament report - watch this space.

At least I have my own computer here now, but this dialup connection is still annoying me.....

2003-06-27T16:23:00.000+01:00

More fanmail

Well, the floodgates have opened - it appears that this blog has more avid followers than I thought, and not wanting to miss any opportunity to talk about how great I am I thought I would post another one. This little number actually raises some important questions, so in order to answer them I have posted my comments in Red alongside the message (thanks to AndyStok for this trick). I hope this doesn't detract from the aesthetics of the site......

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrew Sutcliffe"
To: douglaspenman@operamail.com
Cc: Paul.S.Cooper@somedomain.com
Subject:
Date: Fri, 27 Jun 2003 14:00:40 +0000

Was just reading the site today, and noticed todays post. Now i
gotta say, regardless of what these women looked like, i have met
you, and Darryl. Lez i'm not sure of is he the tall and lanky one with
glasses, a really stoopid goatee... combat trousers.. goth tops...
short no3 hair cut... ?

This is indeed a reasonably accurate description of Lez, although I personally would not wish to pass judgement on the state of someone else's facial hair. Sure I wouldn't grow any myself, but that's my choice. In fact I think the goatee looks quite good on Lez. Also, I should probably take the time to mention that I do not remember meeting you, although I cannot for the life of me think why that would be. As you will have noticed from Wednesday's post (another minor mistake on your part - I hadn't posted anythign for Friday 27th June yet) I often make notes, or have friends make them for me, on the more amusing episodes in my life.

To suggest that you were out of their league
with the possible exception of Paul is ridiculous. I fear it is not only
Darryl who is need of an eyesight test, or maybe it is that the mirrors
in your house like yourself - having spent an afternoon in your
company, the image is still quite vivid - need such a clean that you
have mistakenly thought yourself more attractive - especially being
half cut, 'cos we know women love that - than you are.

Woah. Slow down there. First up, the use of parenthesis: possibly a good idea to limit the number of times you try this trick in any given, excessively long, sentence. I'm not one to critisize another writer, but it made my head hurt trying to remember what the start of your sentence was about. Is that really the effect you're going for? Also, when using one set of parenthesis inside another set, it's almost certainly better to use a different type of parenthesis to make the sentence easier to follow. Try mixing hyphons, brackets, and (my personal favorite) commas for an altogether less traumatic reading experience. As to the question of my inebriation (and you'd be amazed how often bring this question up). I often mistake myself for more attractive than I actually am, although very rarely due to the effects of alcohol. Luckily for me, women often do the exact same thing (although the effects of alcohol may be more evident there). I personally have recieved no definitive answers from women as to their appreciation of the drunken male form (although as soon as I do I'll forward their testimony on to you - I'm assuming this is some kind of school project or somehting?), but it seems like a bit of a double standard for them to disapprove of me being "slightly tipsy" and then expect me to carry them home after 2 glasses of babycham.

Maybe you were referring to your respective personalities? Darryl
is a good guy, mumbles a bit but otherwise salt of the earth, Paul.Well
i'm biased towards Paul as he is my best friend and we have known
each other for years, but all that doesn't detract from the fact that he,
unlike you is not a childish, egocentric brat with an overated opinion
of his own self worth - for details of this cast your mind back to the
Magic tournament in Edinburgh.

Do people actually use phrases like "salt of the earth" any more? Maybe your mum added it as she was checking this over for spelling and things (might want to let her read my comments on parenthesis). Anyway - Darryl, Lez, and indeed Paul, are good guys. I, on the other hand, am not. In case you hadn't noticed while reading this site, I make no attempt to convince anyone otherwise. If people decide that they want to be friends with me, that they want to hang out with me, or that they want to join pub-quiz teams with me, then they are just going to have to accept me for what I am. I'm assuming that Darryl and Lez weren't there because they wanted me to date their sisters (although if you're reading this guys.....). I have no idea what Paul was doing there, and I had no prior knowledge that he would be, but I did not have a problem with this. I'm more than happy to have a bigger audience for such events. As for the "Magic tournament in edinburgh" of which you speak, I'm assuming you mean the standard tournament held in the Melville Bar (I play quite a few of these things each year). There is a good chance that I was indeed loud, arrogant, and abrasive throughout the event - I don't particularly remember. This happens a lot when I'm playing in a tournament run by someone I don't particularly like, having paid an entry fee which is extortionately high, for prizes which are practically non-existent, against opponents who are determined to annoy me as much as possible. Most of the abrasive comments were directed at people who are either (a) my friends, or (b) engaged in exactly the same behaviour towards me. Sure I'll have no hesitation informing you if you've played terribly, but I would expect you to do the same if you saw me make huge mistakes - having your mistakes pointed out to you is the only way you will learn. As I have previously mentioned, I have no idea who you are (and I don't remember speaking to you at this tournament) so you are obviously someone who plays Magic in Scotland, who I do not recognise. This information makes me think it's incredibly likely that I have, at some point, pointed out to you that you are in fact terrible.

Everything that comes from your mouth or indeed the keyboard
gushes of your need for people to pay attention to you, but lets
face it anybody who does feels the need to punch you after 5 or so
minutes of your inane conversation.

Funnily enough, everything that comes out of my mouth is meant for someone else to listen to because that's how communication works. In a similar manner, everything that is written in this weblog is intended for other people to read. Sure I would like them to come back, and I've already mentioned in the blog several times that I take pleasure fomr people telling me that they've enjoyed what I've written (although I must admit, not nearly as much pleasure as I'm getting from your massive misunderstanding of this site). If you don't like what I write here, then feel free not to read it. If you don't enjoy hearing the sound of my voice, then don't engage me in conversation. If you feel like punching me whenever I'm in the same room as you, go to anger management classes. Or, in fact, just go ahead and puch me - that'll work wonders for the mature image you so clearly think you have.

So you see these women were probably too good for you and lets
face it were probably only flirting to get the answers from your
"massive intellect".So they could get the free beer as the prize to
actually make you look worth pursuing for a liason.

You're probably right - they were too good for me. I mean they never called me stupid, or ugly, on the internet - what a bastard I am. Luckily for them I wasn't at all interested, so they never had to go through the trauma of discovering that I've slept with their sister (or, on one memorable occasion, both their sisters). They have indeed had a lucky escape, but I do feel that the question needs to be asked "Do women who would prostitute themselves for a case of beer really deserve to be let off the hook that easily?". As for the cutting insult, I love the fact that drunk girls like me - women are often very boring when thay're sober, asking awkward questions like "does my bum look big in this?" or "will you have dinner with my parents next weekend?". I much prefer it when they've been drinking for four hours, and they ask questions like "your place or mine?", "do you know any other good positions?" and "do you like it when i use my teeth like that?".

In short boy, you are a tosser!
Look forward to reading this and your reply on your site.

A. Friend of Paul.

Congratulations - you've managed to shake off your mature image after all! Seriously, if you honestly believe that I'm as arrogant and egocentric (nice vocabulary btw) as you seem to, what on earth makes you think I'll be bothered about the opinions of someone I have met, but don't even remember? I'm not entirely sure that you understand your place in my worldview. Anyway, thanks for the e-mail, I'm glad you enjoy reading the site. I would offer to make this a regular thing, but I can't help feeling that you're lowering the tone (to be honest, I didn't think that was possible, but.......). Paul sure is lucky to have friends like you who'll fight his (imaginary) battles for him. As strange as it might sound to you, I actually quite like Paul - like you said he's a decent guy, who can take a joke. You might want to talk to him about that.....
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This concludes the lesson for today.

2003-06-26T13:27:00.000+01:00

I love getting fanmail, so I thought I'd share some of it with you to give you an idea of the kind of people who read this blog. I recieved this yesterday:

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andy Donaldson"
To: douglaspenman@operamail.com
Cc:
Subject: Update your weblog you bastard.
Date: Wed, 25 Jun 2003 12:35:32 +0100

Really. What the fuck is the point in going to the trouble in
starting one up and developing a loyal (if sociopathic)
fanbase if you're going to be tremendously unreliable about
updating it. It can't possibly be writer's block after all the
notes Darryl and I made last night. I can only conclude that
you are, in fact, yet to rise. Fucker.

On a related subject, I do feel that I'm becoming unhealthily
obsessed with your life. Do you have a pet rabbit?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ok, so this is from someone that I actually know, but you see what I have to put up with? And for the record, I do not have a pet rabbit. My mum would never let me have one, which may explain a lot of things.

2003-06-25T15:47:00.000+01:00

And the winner is...

...not us. Perhaps we would have done better if I hadn't been half cut when I showed up at the pub, but personally I'm blaming Lez. He clearly wasn't trying as hard now that he knows the prize is beer he'll never drink. We did come second, by only 3 points, and there was some dubious addition going on so we're claiming a moral victory. Highlights from the quiz include, but are not limited to, the follwing (this list is made possible thanks to Darryl and Lez taking notes of things that happened, and making sure I took them home with me):

The girl sitting at the table next to us (Sarah) is ditched by her friend, and then procedes to hit on us. Nobody is quite sure which one of us she's trying to chat up, or if she's thinking she can have all of us, but we are all out of her league (with the exception of Paul perhaps). [edit: this is actually very harsh on Paul - it will later transpire that Darryl is the most desperate in our group]
The quizmaster claims that the Chinese were the first society to cure meat. We disagree, claiming that it was the Egyptians. I am sent to argue our case with the quizmasters (sent may be a bit strong here - it's possible I went of my own accord) and after about 5 minutes of "heated debate", during which I claim Darryl has a degree in Asian history, they award us with the extra marks just to makes me leave them alone.
Bothering the quizmasters until they give us marks we do not deserve becomes the new team strategy.
Sarah's friend returns, and then they both procede to hit on us. Again nobody is quite sure which one of us they are trying to chat up, but they are clearly out of practice. Consensus at the table is that the friend (Tara) is better looking than Sarah. I personally was thinking "flip a coin, then shoot yourself no matter what".
Sarah suggests we should "share answers so we can double our chances of winning". I respond that we actually have a chance of winning, whereas they do not.
Darryl writes in his notes "So I'm going to take it back - Sarah might not be desperate 'MIGHT NOT' but Tara is still sober. Soon we'll fix that :-)". He has previously described her as "from Ireland, quite cute". Darryl needs to have his eyesight tested.
Sarah says "I was going to get an early night, and not get drunk". Darryl writes in his notes "In the right company?". Darryl has clearly not had sex in a long time.
The quizmaster asks which act is supporting eminem at Hampden. Tara announces that "He's not in Hampden, he's in Glasgow - my sister's gone to see him".
We all mock Tara for being incredibly stupid, she accuses us of being very arrogant. I reply that "When you're great, people often mistake candour for arrogance".
I return from the toilet to find that Question 32 is "DougieP is a fruit -- True or False?". I actually think about the answer to this question for some time, before realising that my team already has "True" written down.
Team admits that Question 32 was actually "The tomato is a fruit - True or False?".
Team questions my reason for being there, since I have not answered a single question. I reply that "I'm only here so I can talk about this shit in my weblog tomorrow".

After the quiz ends, and we have come second, I try to round up some people to go to a club with (I'm thinking it'll be a cheap night, since I don't really need to drink anymore). I arrange to go to Gaia, again, with Mairi (the quizmaster) and her friends. Darryl and Lez decide to come too, so we finish our drinks and look for Mairi etc. - they have shown considerable intelligence and left without us. We head to Gaia, and have to actually pay to get in this week since we are not with Jane. Fortunately Darryl does the decent thing and buys Lez and I some drinks (Darryl being marginally less unemployed than us) and we dance a bit. Ok, we dance a lot. Everyone seems to be having a good time, and Darryl is obviously out of control as he starts singing along with Madonna. I see Mairi, but don't speak to her - that'll teach her to leave the pub without me I'm sure! Later on Jane and Grant (Grant is the manager of the Southern Bar, our local pub) turn up so I say hi and tehn we dance some more. There is a group of three girls dancing right next to us, and two of them keep looking over at us. I'm obviously only interested in the one who's not looking at us, so I encourage Darryl and Lez to make a move on the other two. I'm very surprised when they don't - maybe it hasn't been quite as long as I thought since Darrl had sex.

Anyway - we make to leave, and on the way out Darryl asks if I'm going to say goodby to Jane. So I go over and have a bit of a chat with her, much less awkward than I thought it was going to be, while Darryl and Lez disappear. After a bit Jane and I head downstairs to leave, and on the way out she starts chatting to the bouncers she knows. They offer her a lift home, so I head off up the road on my own. All the kebab shops are closed, so I have to detour to Alldays for marked-down sandwiches and milk. When I get in, I literally crash out - for some reason I feel totally wasted, and really tired.

Yesterday I watched "Igby Goes Down", and I liked it quite a bit. Keiran Culkin is very good in it, as are Jeff Goldblum (who's good in everything) and Amanda Peet. Ryan Phillipe's character reminded me very much of his character in Cruel Intentions, but not quite as cool. I also watched Charlie's Angels this morning (the original, not the sequel) and the only way I can describe it is two hours of gratuitous cleavage shots. A friand also described it as "Porn without the nekkidness" which is also quite appropriate. Not that I'm complaining - I definitely want to see the sequel now ;)

2003-06-24T16:58:00.000+01:00

So I'm going to be pub quizzing with Darryl and Lez again tonight, looking to win some more beer so that Darryl won't be angry when he finds out he's not getting any of last weeks prize. Unfortunately this will mean that I have to speak to Jane, which I'm not particularly looking forward to after the embarassment of last week, so in true DougieP fashion I decided to have a couple of drinks to steady my nerve (I'm much funnier when I've been drinking anyway, and that's what's important in a pub quiz). Perhaps starting at 2pm was a mistake. And perhaps I should have eaten something before I started, or at the very least before I go out. But it's these little things that make life more interesting, right?

There will undoubtedly be more information on the events of this evening later on - those with a weak constitution are probably best to avoid it.

2003-06-22T23:40:00.000+01:00

It's not just me - my friends are all idiots as well

Apparently I'm not the only man in the world who finds it hard to have close platonic friendships with women. A lot of my friends do too, and although I have previously commented that myself and my friends are emotionally retarded, I'm coming to believe that it's not our fault (nothing is ever my fault, but this time I'm not even going to try blaming my friends). I was thinking about why I almost always start becoming attracted to my female friends. I've always had quite a lot of female friends (since I was about thirteen or fourteen anyway) and I find that it's easier to tlak to them about the important things in life (your feelings, what you want to do with your life, whether someone is going to cook you some food any time soon, and whether there is anything to drink) than it is to talk to guys. No offense to my male friends, some of them are really easy to talk to about such things (mostly because they're having, or have had, the same kind of problems), but I always feel that baring my soul to my male friends will come back to haunt me one day. Like the day I sleep with their girlfriend and they decide to publish my innermost thoughts and secrets on the internet - WELL UNLUCKY, I GOT HERE FIRST!!!

Sorry.

Anyway, as I was saying - I've always had female friends and I've always been comfortable with them. And that's the important thing actually. I always feel that the kind of relationship I want with a woman (as a girlfriend I mean) is to be completely comfortable with her, so that I can tell her anything - and I would want her to feel the same way with me. The thing is, that's exactly how I feel with an awful lot of my close female friends, especially if we spend a lot of time together, and because of this I think I start viewing the friendship as being a bit like having a girlfriend, but without the sex. Now I think it's only natural for me to start thinking that maybe this friend, who I have an amzing relationship with already, could be the kind of girl I'd like to get involved with.

So I suppose I'm thinking "If I can just get the sex sorted here, this could be it", which in a way offends my romantic ideals (despite all the evidence, I'm actually quite a romatic - I just accept that sometimes all you're interested in is sex). Most of the time, it doesn't go down well with a girl when you try to turn your friendship into a sexual relationship. I'm not sure why this is, but I'm guessing it's a bit of a betrayal for them - they've been telling you things which they probably don't talk about with other people, and when you turn round and tell them that you're attracted to them it must feel like you've been pretending to be their friend just to get them into bed. To be honest I don't particularly blame them, since I know that I've done this with other girls on more than one occasion. The saddest thing about this whole situation is that you have to tell them at some point. Ok, it seems like telling them can only ruin your friendship, but if try and keep it from them then it eats you up inside. She doesn't know how you feel about her, and even if she was interested she's probably as scared of telling you as you are of telling her, so eventually she meets someone else and they get together - the thing is you can't help be jealous, and to make it worse who does she talk to about her new found love? That's right, you're her friend. The one she feels comfortable with and can talk to about anything, remember?

This has happened to me far too many times in the last few years, and in some cases the friendship has survived, while in others it hasn't. I still don't know if there's a good way to deal with this, or better yet to stop it happening in the first place, but it seems like you should just be honest with the girl. If you're ridiculously lucky, you get yourself a girlfriend. If not, you'll find out a lot about your friendship - either it's important enough to both of you that you deal with this and move on, or it wasn't what you took it for in the first place. And it's not like she can really hate you for being honest with her, is it?

And on a lighter note

I actually had a really good time this weekend, mostly due to the presence of Ailie on Saturday. Although I was exhausted by the end of the day from trying to keep up with her, she somehow manges to make me feel good (both about myself and in general). Whener I spend time with her, I always find myself looking forward to having my own kids and worrying less about all the stuff that's stopping me getting my life to that point. I didn't think much of the Gala, but then these things are always rather embarassing affairs - some merry-go-round rides and several games where you can beat the "stacked against you" odds and win a goldfish are never going to be able to hold my attention for very long. Although I did really want to win a goldfish (for Ailie I swear). Today I went to the Highland Show with my parents, which seemed very much like another family day out. It was, again, much more fun than I thought (although this may have something to do with me making a brave attempt at getting wasted on the samples of whiskey/wine/liquers that were being handed out. Given the sizes of the samples, several visits to each stand were required to make up the requisite measures). I'm now back in Edinburgh, sitting in my pants and drinking beer as I write this. I move out of the flat on Saturday, and given the state of our flat I'll be cleaning it non-stop for most of the week. Oh how I look forward to this.

Things might not all be bad though - I spoke to Lauren tonight, and she said she'd try to come and stay sometime during the week. I hope she does, because I could really use the company...

2003-06-21T00:33:00.000+01:00

And Relax

Okie. I recreated my template from scratch, took me just over an hour this time instead of the two days it took the first time. But then I suppose I know how I wanted things to look this time around, and I had some source code from the previous version to take font colours and sizes from. Sorry about the multiple pointless posts today, I'll try not to totally mess things up again.

And for the record, dialup still sucks.

2003-06-20T23:22:00.000+01:00

More Annoyances

Well, it appears that I can't publish my blog because blogger has lost my template. Some would say this is my own fault, as it happened when I was trying to debug errors in a friends template and I foolishly used my own blogger to check the code. Since then every time I try and enter the code for my own template, I can't save the changes to the template and my code disappears. Since I am now in Dunfermline, and my backup template file is in Edinburgh, I will be unable to publish until I return to the Flat on Monday and sort out this horrible mess.

*sigh*

Obviously this means that you won't be reading this before then, but it makes me feel better to have written it in here.

2003-06-20T23:06:00.000+01:00

I'm annoyed.

For a start, I missed Will & Grace tonight because Channel 4 decided to move it forward half an hour. Unfortunately I didn't get in until 9:26 pm, just in time to catch the closing credits. The new series of Scrubs, although pleasing, doesn't quite make up for this scheduling blunder. I'm also annoyed because I accidentally drowned my chips in vinegar - How was I to know that vinegar came with a flip top instead of a screw top now? (apart from actually looking at the bottle cap before unscrewing it obviously). Then to round off the evening of *INCREDIBLY* annoying things, Federico was given 30 minutes of television time, during which he came across as both stupid and annoying. Who would have guessed he was Glaswegian?

However, of the many sources of annoyance in my world, the one currently bothering me most is my dialup connection. Yes, you heard me correctly - even as I write, I am connected to the internet by something resembling two paper cups and a length of string. At this very moment, I am unable to open Google because I already have Blogger and mIRC open. God help me if I actually wanted to download a song or something.

The reason for this startling lack of technology is that I'm back in Dunfermline once again (often a source of annoyance in it's own right - although not as bad as being in say, Aberdeen), ostensibly so I can see my family, but in reality because I can't afford to stay in edinburgh over the weekend. Having said that, I am looking forward to seeing my cousin Ailie tomorrow as she is Ã¼bercute. She is also only 18 months old, so don't go getting any ideas. Tomorrow I will be attending Kincardine gala with my Grandparents, my Uncle and his girlfriend Sheena, and Ailie - while I normally don't go in for gala's, and I certainly don't go in for family days out, I figure I have some bridges to build after messing them around all year with the Uni stuff. We're than having a big family dinner (my mum arranges lots of these type of things, then complains about how much work she has to do for it, and how rushed she is etc. Are all women like this?) which will allow me to go for several days afterwards without eating. Witha bit of luck, I'll manage to get through the weekend without being (a) told I'm messing up my life by not finishing Uni, (b) asked exactly what I've done about getting a job, or (c) told that I'll have to get a job soon, even if it is in McDonalds. I'm not holding my breath though.

Anyway, I'm going to finish up here. Since it's unlikely I'll be supplying any stories of drunken debauchery (or attempted debauchery given my recent track record) this weekend, I'll link you to a man who can. Ladies and gentleman, Tucker Max is an inspiration to us all.

2003-06-19T23:41:00.000+01:00

<begin childish gloating>

BadPanda: I 0\/\/nz j00 d00d!!!!!!!

</end childish gloating>

2003-06-19T22:39:00.000+01:00

Congratulations, you're syphilis!

Transmitted by direct contact with one of your infections (usually through unprotected sex), you're one nasty STD! In your initial stages, you cause sores, usually on the genitals or in the rectum, but that's only the delicious beginning. Later on, you'll cause a rash, and then slip away ... but you won't be gone. No no, my friend. You're far too cunning.

You'll still pass yourself on to anyone the poor soul you've infected has sex with (anal, vaginal or oral), and you'll start to erode their muscles and nerves! In fact, you'll eventually lead, if left untreated, to malcoordination, blindness, paralysis, dementia and then death!

And that's not all - if you infect a pregnant women, you'll also be passed to their child! A single shot of penicillin will kill you, but shhhhh .. I won't tell anyone if you won't.

Take the Affliction Test Today!

How incredibly appropriate :/

2003-06-19T01:12:00.000+01:00

[01:08] <Dave_Conn> steerttlights
[01:08] <Dave_Conn> wee r obented
[01:08] <Dave_Conn> to
[01:08] <Dave_Conn> stop deer
[01:08] <Dave_Conn> getting hit by passing trucks
[01:08] <Dave_Conn> !
[01:08] <Dave_Conn> if it wasngt for steertlighhts
[01:08] <Dave_Conn> we would haev no deer.
[01:08] <Dave_Conn> no deer = no good times
[01:08] <Dave_Conn> therfore
[01:08] <Dave_Conn> streetlights = good times

Do you ever find yourself wondering if there's intelligent life on this planet?

2003-06-19T00:27:00.000+01:00

Jane didn't call about the tennis today. I can't say I'm particularly surprised, but I like to think of myself as an optimist so I waited for her call. For fourteen hours.

I hope this isn't going to be awkward when I go to the pub.

2003-06-18T11:37:00.000+01:00

Do I never learn?

Last night was pub-quiz night at my local pub, and due to the usual suspects being in Glasgow and not in Edinburgh I was forced to form a Professional money team. And by some quirk of fate, Darryl and Lez are more intelligent than Edd and Stu (I never saw it coming, honest) so we won by a clear margin, leading by enough points going into the last round that we never really felt we were going to lose. I now have a crate of Carlsberg sitting in my room, waiting to be drunk.

Obviously that wasn't enough for me, and despite Lez going home because he had to get up for work or something (who does that?) I decided that the night must be celebrated and coerced a bunch of people into going to a club afterwards. In future when coercing girls to come to a club, I should get them to come to the same club that I am going to rather than a different club with different guys. So despite managing to convince four other people to come out, only Darryl, myself, and Jane the barmaid headed to Gaia. Once we got there, Darryl left early because he didn't want to step on my toes - my other friends should take note. Don't really think it was his sort of place anyway, but I felt quite bad for excluding him in that way. Anyway - that left Jane and I in Gaia, alone, dancing. I was slightly drunk (who'd have thought it) but then I was celebrating the fact that I'd just won some beer. It was good, although I did get decked by a guy at one point, when he didn't take too well to me dancing with him and flipped. I probably should have been paying more attention to what was going on around me, rather than dancing with a guy and making eyes at Jane, and I didn't even know what had happened when I found myself on the floor. The guy disappeared pretty sharpish, and although I'd like to think that he'd realised the beating he was going to get from me it seems more likely that he didn't want the bouncers to notice what had happened.

Jane and I left Gaia around 2:55 am and walked home together. Regular readers have probably worked out where this is going, but you should keep reading anyway because this one is *really* good.

We're obviously getting on pretty well, and talking about what I'm doing with myself over the summer and next year. I'm asking questions about her boyfriend (who was 14 years older than her, and who she split up with fairly recently) and not really listening to the answers. You can see where this is going, right? At some point she mentions that she has a spare room in her flat next year, and that she'd be quite happy to live with me as long as her flatmate is ok with it. As far as I'm concerned that's fantastic, as it stops me ending up in a 1 bedroom flat in Muirhouse or somewhere. So I obviously fuck it up good style.

In a flash of inspiration, I mention that now she's single she should go out with me sometime. If she had just been a bit less subtle when she rejected me, that would have been the end of it, but instead she said something like "won't it be a bit weird us going out if we're going to live together next year?" and I took it as a come-on. We arranged to play tennis today, but that would involve her phoning me so she came up to the flat to get my phone number - Now this was the biggest mistake I could possibly make on SOOOOOOOOOOO many fronts you wouldn't believe it. No girl who has seen the state of our flat is ever going to want me living with them, ever. By inductive process this also means that no girl who has seen my flat is ever going to have sex with me, unless she's already too far along that road to back out when she sees the flat. That doesn't stop me trying though. In another moment of clarity, I tell Jane that she can stay if she wants, but she is obviously "too tired" so makes her excuses and leaves. God alone knows what I would have done if she'd said yes, but there you go.

I hate having to phone people up after a night out and apologise. I hate even more when I'm apologising for making them reject me. To make the situation worse, I also ate a doner kebab last night because there was no chicken left and now I feel slightly ill.

Maybe I should change the name of this blog to "Diary of a Train Wreck".

2003-06-17T19:25:00.000+01:00

I have now added a comment form to the blog, so you can all post your criticisms (of the blog - comments on my other failings should, as always, be sent by e-mail), praise, or anything you think might interest the readers of this blog. Just click on the link which appears on the bottom right of every post.

2003-06-17T17:26:00.000+01:00

As you can no doubt see, I've changed the template for my blog. It took me ages, partly because my html skills are dubious to say the least, and partly because I like to kid myself that I know something about design and graphical layputs. I am still looking for some images to use, so if you come across anything interesting let me know.

I hope you like the new layout.

2003-06-16T23:12:00.000+01:00

A funny thing happened as I was walking home from the pub today. Now this might not come as a huge surprise, but funny things happen while I'm walking home from pubs *All The Time*. But this was a bit different as it was only 10pm, and none of the parties involved were totally pished.

Edinburgh appears to be in the middle of some incredible heatwave (I would love to refer to it as a summer, but in my experience there isn't enough rain for this to be the summer) so everyone in the world was sunbathing in the Meadows. Except me obviously. I was walking through, on my way to a dark and dingy pub to participate in the playing of Magical Cards. I almost didn't make it to the pub when I saw the amounts of female flesh on display, but my will held (and the thought of someone maybe buying me a pint) and my skin remains pasty and white. Once again there weren't enough people for a draft, so pointless multiplayer action was the order of the day and I was soon wishing that I'd just gone over and started chatting to one of the sexy sunbathing girls.

The funny thing happened as I was walking home. I already mentioned that, but after I hit you with something as big as "Monday Night Multiplayer" tales, I figured you'd need reminding. As I was walking towards the grassmarket, passing under the bridge outside Gaia nightclub, I heard the sound of young female voices coming towards me. Now those of you who know me will know how I feel about attractive young females, but it may surprise you to learn that I'm quite embarassed about passing groups of younger girls in the street - this is because I feel slightly ashamed of the fact that I'm eyeing them up, and wondering if they fancy me. It's even worse if one of them makes eye contact, or says something to me, although I am of course flattered by the attention. Tonight, as the girls came into view around the corner of the bridge support, one of them had her top raised and was displaying her brassiere covered breasts to the world. As soon as she saw me she dropped her top with an "Oh God" covering herself up, and I smiled and chuckled to myself.

But that's not all! As we passed each other she smiled at me, made eye contact, and said "There's a flasher up there you know". Amazingly I didn't get flustered, didn't blush, and didn't just walk past. Instead I replied with a smile "I'll be careful" and kept walking. Immediately they had rounded the corner her friends started cracking up, while I was mentally kicking myself for (a) Being attracted to a girl obviously much younger than me, and (b) Not having the balls to get her name and phone number. I figure if I'm going to beat myself up over being attracted to her, I should at least be getting something out of it. She was probably going to be legal soon anyway. Honest.

2003-06-16T15:41:00.000+01:00

Welcome to my life.

2003-06-15T22:37:00.000+01:00

These are crazy days, but they make me shine

Like many young people living away from home, I returned to visit my parental unit this weekend. Unlike most of those returning home, I had no idea that today was in fact Father's Day and I didn't actually discover this potentially useful piece of information until I had returned to Edinburgh. Instead I had returned home to confess to my parents that I was still an unemployed, irresponsible, unwashed (although I did have a shower a few weeks ago) university drop-out. I was also letting them know that I had debts and bills up the yahoo (a technical term, taught to me by an attractive young medical student) and no source of income. Now it's possible that I'm the worst son in the world, but in my defense I've never had a party which resulted in the house being trashed, and I've never caused the police to turn up at my parents door - although this just means that I was always careful not to get caught. Surprisingly my parents took the news that they would be settling all my bills in the forseeable future better than expected, and although I did make my Mum cry I'm happy to believe that this is because of her hormones and not my behaviour.

One thing that my trip home did allow me to do was read. I don't really have any books in edinburgh (apart from one which I was given by a lesbian I had sex with - no real reason for dropping that in, except that I love telling the story. I converted a lesbian. How cool is that) but I have loads in Dunfermline and my family are always adding to that collection. This weekend I read Immediate Action, by Andy McNab. I'd read it before and it's not exactly high brow stuff, but it has pictures of guns and SAS men in the black anti-terror kit. I also read Stupid White Men, by Michael Moore which I hadn't read before. I would reccomend that anyone with any interest in world events read this book, as it seems more and more that Britain is becoming a province of the United States and I can definitely see Britain's political machine moving to make itself more like the American one. Parts of the book are also very funny, although I admit they are funny in the "it's happening to someone else, not to me" way.

I'm also very tired now, since I find it impossible to get to sleep in Dunfermline. For a start, it's too quiet since there is no computer on 24/7. For a second point it's too hot, since the house is actually insulated unlike the flat in Edinburgh. Thirdly, I always seem to have too much to think about whenever I'm home, so I lie awake trying to make sense of it all.

ALSO why is it that Kim Bauer on 24 keeps getting herself into so much trouble? In the first series, she gets kidnapped and escapes about 4 times. In this current series she has got herself into trouble at least 5 times already. Is she the worlds most unlucky girl, or is she giving off some kind of pheremone that says "victim"? She obviously needs a man to look after her, so if anyone reading this knows her then I know a few people. I'd be interested myself, except that her boyfriends seem very prone to dying/getting arrested and her dad is quite scary.

And a reminder that the position of my girlfriend is still open, despite the flood of applications that rolled in over the weekend.

2003-06-13T17:16:00.000+01:00

Everyone's deserted me :(

It's the end of the year, and all my friends (those people who actually intend to complete their university career) are heading home for the summer. I on the other hand, am not. At least that's the intention. I really need to find a job, as my debts are starting to catch up with me, but I'm heading back to Dunfermline for the weekend in an effort to stay solvent. I'm not particularly looking forward to the arguments with my parents but what can you do?

Last night I was forced to vacate my premises as Stokely was across visiting Edd. Unfortunately, his bed is infested with lice or something due to his complete lack of hygiene so I had to give up my bed for the greater good. Luckily for me they didn't have sex in my bed, and only Stokely slept in it so I can get away with merely changing the sheets instead of having to have my whole room fumigated. To be honest, fumigation probably wouldn't be enough if they *HAD* shagged in my bed, but it's not my flat so my options are limited. We're probably due a fumigation before we move out anyway. Back to my point though - I went round to Caoimhe's flat since all her flatmates had moved out, and I thought she might like some company (see, my intentions are entirely honourable - not at all what you were thinking you perverts). Turns out Karen was there, as she'd come back to go out with a girl from her course which made for some interesting conversation before she left. I'm sure she was trying to persuade Caoimhe to go out with her, rather than stay in with me but I could be wrong. Anyways, I have an enjoyable evening with Caoimhe watching TV and chatting before Karen comes home. Karen has obviously had a bad night, since she realises I'm still there and shouts through that she "won't ask what you two have been up to" then starts slamming doors while she gets ready for bed. As much as I like Karen, she's very highly strung :/

So after she's calmed down she comes through and explains why she was in such a strop, apparently some guys had behaved less than gentlemanly towards her and she punched one of them. Like I said, highly strung. Regardless, her being there kinda kills a lot of conversation topics and after watching a film everyone goes to bed. I sleep on their sofa. No really.

I'm beginning to think that I might become unhealthily attracted to Caoimhe. I just like spending time with her so much, she's incredibly easy to talk to, funny, intelligent, and not at all unattractive. We kinda talked about this last ngiht, but I wasn't sure if I was reading the signals right so didn't do anything. Also the knowledge that Karen would be coming home was a tad off-putting. Anyway, I'm probably not going to see her again for quite some time, so it's probably a good thing that I didn't do anything stupid. I can't understand why I always start feeling attracted to every girl I get friendly with - I'm clearly sick in the head.

I have to run and catch a train now, but I'll be back on Monday with an update on the weekend (or series of pitched battles as it's known in our house) and another trip to the jobcentre. This time I will not be denied!

Almost forgot - in the 5 minutes that I spoke to her last night, Stokely called me both "Cute" and "Handsome". There is now roughly a 50% chance that I'm going to become incredibly attracted to her, which could be very embarassing (for Edd I mean - nothing embarassing about sleeping with your mate's girlfriend as far as I'm concerned). Only joking Edd, honest.

2003-06-12T16:14:00.000+01:00

Just realised while writing the last post that I find the "bitch-slapped" thingy very annoying indeed. I think this is because it gives me a nagging feeling that I know the red haired girl from somewhere, and I can't remember where. Clearly this is crazy as she's a cartoon, but the feeling is still there and I can't help wondering....

2003-06-12T16:11:00.000+01:00

Quitting Life and Getting a Job

Caoimhe wasn't in, so no coffee/therapy session for me today. For any kids reading this, that's why you should always make plans in advance rather than turning up on someone's doorstep with no prior warning. Instead I went to the jobcentre, which could possibly be the most depressing experience of my life. In fact it was almost enough to convince me that Uni wasn't so bad, but I came to my senses and left quickly, empty handed. I will however return tomorrow (I mean it's not like I have better things to be doing, right?) and speak to someone "in authority". Much begging may ensue, and I can guarantee it all ends in tears. You'll probably see me on the news tomorrow night.

Had a bit of a chat with Stally last night, about women and life in general (I love how those topics work out - women, and everything else. Maybe I need to get my priorities sorted out) and it kinda got me thinking. Why is it that almost every guy I know is emotionally retarded? In fact the examples I can think of who *aren't* emotionally retarded, are just retarded. This is slightly worrying. I don't know if this is a significant discovery about guys in general, or if it's merely a sign of the kind of guys I hang around with, but every single one of them has massive hang-ups and issues regarding the fairer sex (I really wanted to put that in inverted comma's, but I figure there might be some cute feminists reading). I'm sure there must be guys out there who can have a relationship and move on, or fail to have a relationship and move on, so how come I don't know any? I think I'm going to start working on my own issues in this arena, and hopefully once I've got them sorted I can help my friends with theirs. It does feel a bit hypocritical giving them advice when I'm still thinking about how I messed up with a girl I was at school with.

***aside***

I think I also really dislike being single, and it's only taken me like 3 years to realise this. Given this realisation, and the stimuli my brain has been exposed to recently, I've decided to advertise for the position of my girlfriend. This will be a full time position and although there is no salary as such, successful applicants will enjoy a variety of benefits during their period of employment. If you think you have what it takes to be part of the most dysfunctional team going, then please submit an application in writing to this address along with a copy of your CV, preferably in Word or PDF format (although video applications are acceptable and probably get bonus points). Suitable candidates will be subject to an interview process, possibly over drinks.

Oh, one more thing. Although I'm normally an equal opportunities employer, in this case the very nature of the job precludes the selection of a male applicant. So don't even bother.

***end aside***

I'm obviously looking forward to a flurry of e-mails from the hot young subscribers to this blog.

2003-06-12T13:24:00.000+01:00

During an uncontrolled bout of surfing in the small hours, I came across this little gem. Actually I was sent there by someone, but I'm still in the denial stage of my addiction to my so called friends.

Anyways, gonna go see a friend now (that's right, actually leaving the house) then hopefully get a job. Yay me.

2003-06-11T21:27:00.000+01:00

I have just this minute decided that I should improve my html knowledge, and learn some fancypants techniques for making my Blog look pretty. Perhaps this will also make me more employable, although I have a feeling that my general apathy and laziness will shine through in the end. I'll probably never get round to anything more complicated than "mailto" links anyway :/

2003-06-11T16:29:00.000+01:00

Today I have caved to the pressure, and created one of these blog thingies. I am under no illusions regarding my attention span for such things, and am in no way expecting this to be updated regularly. It says something for my state of mind this morning that I didn't even attempt to use the word sporadically in the last sentence. I think it also says a fair amount about my lifestyle that I described 4:17pm as "this morning".

I was drinking last night. Then later on I was drunk. There was an attractive blonde girl in Gaia last night - I danced with her for a bit, but I soon realised that I couldn't really be bothered. The effort required to form coherent sentences was too great, and I resigned myself to dancing with Matt and Stu. Caoimhe thought I was depressed, but we didn't really get a chance to talk before Stu dragged me off to get some food. For once it wasn't me who tried it on with a friend in an embarassing, never-gonna-be-able-to-speak-to-anyone-in-their-flat-ever-again type fashion and for that I suppose I should be truly thankful.

I might actually have a shower and leave the house now. Maybe someone will want to have coffee, maybe I'll just wander aimlessly around for a while. Maybe I'll even get myself a job, although this seems to reside purely in the realm of fantasy. I don't want to write too much in my first post and burn myself out, so I'll leave it at that, except to note that it's a very nice day outside.