Working on Christmas day is a little bit shit really. Done it for the past few years mind, pretty decent pay and to be frank, not alot else happens on Christmas day, same old films, same old shit. All this money we pay for a TV license and its still gobshite.

Something which really bugs me and is something I dont understand is why, when washing up, that the person drying will always go to pick up the very thing you have just washed. Despite it being soaked with water and there being a hundred thousand alternatives that a drier.

Pot washing in a pub for around 4 or 5 years means that I have seen a fair bit of this kind of thing. Are these people thick or do they love water?

The Human Mind

Something that interests me has to be the way people think. Rational thinking is seen rarely in this world. However surely a rational thought would vary from person to person?

I live in a student flat with 5 others not including myself, so 1 girl, and 4 guys. The other day we were all celebrating Christmas and the joys of finishing all our work. One of the said housemates went a bit happy on the old merry juice, and what is quite common with shite alcohol, is that you usually see it twice in one evening. So later on the toilets engaged and he is, undoubtedly, positioned head first into the toilet. Funny thing with the flat however is that we no longer put toilet rolls in the toilet. This is due to the ungodly usage of them, we once put a roll within the toilet, which was then used within one trip by someone who shall not be named. Richard. Anyhow, there is no toilet roll and our housemate is barfing for Britain. So what will he do when he discovers there is no toilet roll? Considering that there is no toilet roll. Well here are the options.

• Shout for someone to throw a toilet roll in (not taking into account the factor which is pride).
• Use the shower to wash oneself.
• Pull up trousers and quickly move onto the next toilet...like a nomad of toilets.
• Use the reading material on hand as a makeshift wiper.

Now the second is a pretty reasonable and rationale choice. However our flatmate opted for the latter. He wiped his faculties with a 'Viz' magazine. For those of you who don't know what Viz is then look it up, but briefly its an adult humour cartoon magazine. It's okay but it is also a bit pissy in places. To make matters even worse for our flatmate, he also used the laminated back cover of the magazine.

DOES LAMINATED PAPER OFFER GOOD WIPEABILITY? I think not personally, but thats my opinion.

Also, hats off to the lad, he tried to flush it as well, can't say it worked, but it offered a good target for me to piss on.

The Past Month

Mostly, this month has consisted with the following.

• My flatmates pointing out the gayness of ankle socks.
  
  Yes okay, I can understand the arguement against them. They look incredibly feminine. BUT THEY ARE SO TIGHT FITTING! They make my ankles look so smooth....My arguement against it at the time was incredibly flawed "they were cheap". No, the real truth was, I couldnt be arsed to wear the others as i bought socks sizes too big purely because they were on offer in primark. This was not a wise decision to have made as I dont recall my feet growing in years. In my defense, my body channels growth to other regions....such as fingernails.

• Things that make me go "hahah, what are the chances of that".
  
  A week or so back there was a student presentation in the Hallam Atrium entitled "ISLAM: DO YOU KNOW THE TRUTH?" Bit deep if you ask me, but there again, I also find the question "whats the purpose of Peter Andre?" a tad deep... But anyways, it was no more than a day after this stall been out, until that teacher was jailed in Sudan for allowing kids to name a bear after a prophet. I mean, come on, only recently did the members of b3ta.com utilise what can only be referred to as a 'block vote' on naming a whale "Mr Splashy Pants" on a greenpeace site. No one threatened to burn their embassy. Im guessing therefore, that no-one discovered the truth.

• Sheffield Hallam vending machines cheer me up.
  
  It's true, I like the pot-luck effect they have installed on them. It's like putting your life savings in Northern Rock, you dont know whats going to come out if anything. For instance, if I put a pound into a vender, and I buy a mars bar for 55p, the last thing I expect is a twix and 10p change. Alternatively, I could put 55p in exact, this time get a mars bar, and somehow also recieve 30p change. I spent one Construction Fianance lecture going through in my head whether or not I've made a profit. So far its inconclusive, purely because I see that recieving a twix instead of a mars bar as being a bad thing.

• The supposed gayness of ankle socks.
  
  But come on seriously, they arn't that bad?
  
  
• Thin Lizzy Gig.
  
  Okay, they're a fair few members down with no original members left. According to simple definitions they'd be a tribute act. If this is the case, then they were simply brilliant.
  
  A night well worth the wait, even though it was going to creep up on me a little (ho ho ho ho, I told an inadvertant half arsed Lizzy joke there, answers on a shitty postcard if you got that bastard). Anyhow, the city hall wasnt packed out, much to my suprise but hey, that apparently makes it "intimate" (according to NME and other such piss and wankery. Intimate in a sense that brushing past an uknown strangers, fetid arse is intimate mind you. Back to what I was saying, we had an excellent pair of seats (me and the Hutch of Lincoln). 1st balcony right at the front, so we were in good spitting distance over looking the band.
  
  The initial support band...Queensryche (or something similiar to that wording) pulled out, distraught this made me, I was paralysed with shock. Then I thought to myself "Dave, who the fuck are Queensryche?". Another possibly deep question. The only answer I ascertained without consulting the internets was that it was a 4th Reich only involving queens, whether they be monarchs or of the drag variety I'm not quite sure. Either way I'm not having any of it.
  
  So instead a band called Diamond Head came in, never heard of them either, but they were not too shabby and had a decent song or too. They were one of those bands were 3/4 of the band look the same and then there is a square peg standing there doing his/her own thing. In this case you have a band of leather clads with short cut hair, and suddenly you have a bassist wearing clothes from an inner city primark (probably had a pair of my large, shitty cheap socks on as well). He also acted apart as well, just wandering between everyone, as if he had no home or place to stand, like a talented hobo (that reminds me, I shall speak of hobos a little later I feel).
  
  Anyways, despite their best efforts Diamond Head could'nt inspire the crowd. To be frank the crowd was as active as a nun's va....vagisil cream. Wait a minute that comparison was still a tad crude. Fuck it. The seating in the city hall didnt really help to be honest. lets face it, if you're offered seating, 90% of a population would sit down. Out of the 10% who decline are either already sitting down, have no knees, or are steven hawking.
  
  However Lizzy finally come on and the main area of the hall rise to their feat and stay there. In the balcony, we can't really see the point in standing as we can pretty much see everything. Including down peoples tops, not that I tried, the average age was about 50 I rate. As much as I'd give Lulu a run for her money, I wouldnt to some terminally obese mother of 12...
  
  What me and the Hutch of Lincoln (also known as The Bastard) didnt realise is that it was 30 years since the release of the live and dangerous album, so they played the entire set list from that, including a load of others. Therefore it was (little girl in)bloom-in' marvellous. Ho ho, a blatant attempt there.
  
  Edit: Forgot to menton a rather brilliant 10 minute drum solo from Tommy Aldrige on drums. Shit me up a bit that did, didnt help being about 2 meters from an amp Anne Frank could have hid in with room space for Shergar and anything thats dissapeared in a 3-pointed shape near bermuda. However, after a few minutes using sticks, he threw them to the crowd, in what seemed to be relief/disgust, and then proceeded to fight the symbols using fists and head when applicable. Fair play to the lad, it'd good to see LSD still in circulation. At one point though it looked as though he was fighting off a horde of knife wielding midgits.
  
  Still to summarise, top evening, excellent songs that I never thought I'd ever hear live. Southbound was a favourite for me but thats for personal reasons why i like that one so very much indeed.
  
  
• Charities and the Homeless.
  
  The thought came to me the other day as I walked past a homeless woman with two dogs, I wouldnt really give money to a homeless person with a dog. Im not sure why this is or where the thought stems from, im not a harsh bastard or anything, I sometimes buy the big issue and donate to cancer research charities. Okay i buy the big issue with the same regularity as picking shit from an owls arse with a ukelele...the latter being never, so that was actually a poor comparison again there. But I've bought about 3 big issues in a year, so meh to you all.
  
  Anyways, tramps with dogs, you wont get my money. However a charitiy for disabled kids we raising funds by giving out stickers...nothing new there. However they also have a dartmoor poney, or midgit horse for you non-pc bastards who know nothing about horses (otherwise known as bald headed, vest wearing, tattoed city dwellers). But yeah, they had a midgit horse, and I gave generously because of that, i cared little for the charity when i handed over my money, I was staring at the horse. I wanted to ride it, occaisionally shouting SPARTANS..etc...But fair play to the charity they're doing a top job.
  
  So as a bottom line here. Tramps, eat the dogs, get a dartmoor pony"...However im assuming tramps have internet access. Which in this world of wifi is an entire possibility.
  Whoa, brain-wave. Why can't tramps be paid to carry around Wi-fi recievers or telephone masts (okay im sure there are some serious health ramifications...such as premature death) but if they're willing to be paid, we could have a roaming wi-fi access. Imagine the possibilites...
  
  "WOW, MY SHITTY I-PHONE EVEN CONNECTS TO MYSPACE FROM THIS SHIT-RIDDLED ALLEY"
  
  Im so going into marketing. Well its either a life in marketing or eternal damnation. Now I review that sentence they both look like one of the same
  
  
• 'Bedellum', a wonderous and mysterious new substance.
  
  Dreamt up whilst playing Pro evolution soccer, with lorna playing along stoking my fire of creativity just nicely with bellows made of humour.
  
  The trouble with pro evo and me, I sort of shut off when playing it. This could be because I am a male and incapable of the whole multitasking mularky. I once tried to cotton bud my ears and pull on a pair of pants, it fucking hurt it did. So therefore when i play pro evo my mouth sort of gets free roam, i hardly think, i end up humming to myself or singing shite, usually one word. However this time i focused on something called "bedellum". Which isnt a word, so the rest of the evening was spent creating a meaning. Results were a tad amusing. Especially how everything had to be done in the voice of a gospel choir or trashy american advert. "BEDELLUM HELPED MY WIFE LOSE WEIGHT, NOW SHE CAN FIT THE BED AGAIN...THANKS BEDELLUM!".
  
  So from this I can divulge that Bedellum is:
  
• Bedellum is a noun, a verb, an adjective, a pro-noun, and a beef stock substitute.
• It is a substance that promotes weight gain.
• It is a substance that causes dramatic weight loss.
• It is a substance that IS weight itself.
• It is the opposite of dark matter
• It is Sean Moore (Violent drummer of a Welsh band who cannot be named for Rachel-excitation reasons).
• It is a substitute for most adjectives in everyday speech.
• It is death.
• Bedellum swears at your when you turn your back on it.
• It doesn't tolerate Vladimir Putin.
• It is Amy Winehouse's Barnet.
• It has a part time job where it is employed as Gordon Brown's saggey basset hound chops.
  It is Gary Barlow.
• It is something you order over the phone by pressing a the 'bedellum' button on your phone. Said button measures 10cm x 10cm (For the fatties dialing it). The button cannot be pressed by anything but bedellum.
• Bedellum was the cause of the JFK 'Magic Bullet'.
• Bedellum was and somehow still is JFK.
• Bedellum evaporates in a vacuum.
• Bedellum is the Holy Grail, however bedellum cannot be drunk out of. Hence therefore, the grail is gobshite.
• Bedellum is the reason Jesus sacrificed himself as he foresaw no other way of stealing the limelight from bedellum.
• Bedellum is the reason Mary conceived,
• Jesus is Bedellum.
• Jesus therefore somehow sacrificed himself as he couldn't compete with himself. Jesus killed bedellum, yet didn't. Jesus is FAIL.
• Bedellum is a top UK holiday destination but doesn't rate highly with the Germans who think it is "a place for the morbidly obese and anorexics).
• Bedellum is a teenage single mum living in a council house on a 2 year tenancy agreement. She dislikes mushrooms and only goes out when the temperature is a multiple of 12.
• Bedellum is an everyday food product that cannot be digested. It is not fibre.
• NME has no idea about Bedellum, and bedellum wishes for it to stay that way.
• Bedellum refers to itself in the 3rd person and punches the ground when it wishes to know the time.
• Men with facial hair have a bedellum deficiency.
• Bedellum aids hair growth, but cannot be used on a bald/balding. If it is the remaining hair if any will fall out and be replaced with a blinding and bright shine. People will comment on the ferocity of the shine and it will have the intensity to blind seagulls. The shine will also attracts moths, ocean liners and the darkside.
  
  And on that note. I bid thee farewell. Bastards.