Ughhhh what were you thinking..?

...Is all I've been able to ask myself recently. I've shat up things on so many levels and in so many places. Grah, I don't want to dwell anymore on al this though, I've tormented myself endlessly for some time over it all now. Still I guess things are sorted for the better but definately not through the right means. Ahhh well. I still have so many things to say, but at the same time nothing I can put into words so I guess everything is better off not being said at all.

Still lots of changes are to be made in life I rate. Getting fitter and healthier is definately a start. I'm going to cut back on the obscene meat intake. Eating 500g of bacon, followed by 2 chicken breasts and a turkey steak all covered in a rich sauce is starting to be a little obscene. Lets not talk about the fried bread afterwards!

The physio did wonders on releasing my knotted back and loosening up the chest as well. Its well weird getting a massage from someone who you know the daughter of. Its scary stuff! But ace nevertheless! I never realised I could crack my back in so many ways here and there. Although the rapid neck crack scared me no end. She could have just asked me to do that one myself though. Here's me getting bollocked all throughout life for cracking my joints and then this woman goes and does the whole lot and tells me its good to do. WILL SOMEONE PLEASE MAKE THEIR MINDS UP.

I can't quite believe the effect that the physio had on me though, its completely freed me up and I feel rejuvenated, an entirely different person. I was really starting to dominate my mood and everythng. Now I'm raring to go!

But ahh well, enough of this personal gobshite. Today, after getting back to London Town (which is still looking mighty shite might I add) I decided to do a little shopping here and there, try and track down Nancy's present, which I pin pointed in River Island of all the obscenely expensive shit holes you can go to. Still ambling around the shopping market, I decide to go into GAME, see if they have anything of interest, turns out they do! Although in hindsight I bet my laptop would have hated it. What I don't get about this particular GAME is the shite service. It takes 3 people to do one transaction, no one understands alphabetical order and they constantly ask the same thing over and over as if they keep forgetting. So much so, this time round I just put the game back and left. YOU'RE LOSING CUSTOM YOU TITS, THIS IS NOT GOOD FOR BUSINESS. I was also surrounded by Millwall fans as well and this is never a good thing in my eyes. In fact its down right disturbing!

Ahk, I've lost my train of thought now...I'm sorry to all those I've shit up and shafted over the last 6 months, I was not feeling right in myself.

How's about a little amusement to kick start the evening?


I tried mugging an old aged pensioner yesterday.

I said, "Give me all your money now, bitch, or you're geography."

"Don't you mean history?" she replied.

I said, "Don't try to change the subject."


Sickipedia.org, the one stop shop for all your jokes. Although a some are there are even a little bit risky for myself.

Lifes quietened down a bit now, thank the lord. Works proving to be a fun challenge...if fun can be attributed to work. But it gives me a chance to go full whack at something, all i need now is a football match to shout and scream at, or a good game of tennis or something. Im no where near fit enough to play football anymore. It really shit me up a bit last time. 5 minutes in to the game, im out of breath. Christ, I need to do some training!

Stress, tiredness and anxiety are mixing together to make me feel a little shite and tight chested and are making my left eye lid flicker every now and then, which makes me giggle as it tickles. IN THE EYE. Which is quite an odd experience.

The weekend was spent shopping on Oxford Street and that area about that place. All the lovely side shops and the really ace music shop that had a really nice guitar in it. I'd learn to play a little more if I had a working guitar I rate. But it would involve me having to go there and buy one. Then carry it back...Imagine the struggle that might be...Picadilly station, carrying a guitar, what if someone expects me to busk? I'd be a shit busker. I'd sing morbid songs and punk and just blatantly scream at everyone and sing anti establishment songs at the suited and booted. BECAUSE I CAN.

I did have loads of great ideas and things to write tonight, songs, poems, stories and everything really. But I've gone and forgot them all. My minds too full of memories and my past right now. Time for sleep...

Why don't you take your social regulations, shove them up your arse

God bless them Dead Kennedys.

Why do swans look so gracefull and awesome when they're swimming and everything but as soon as they take to the skies its "PANIC!?" The look in their eyes is one of constant fear and they lumber around like a fatty in a cake shop being harrassed by a team of midgets with trip wires.

I like the way we call bus shelters, bus shelters. We should really just leave it as bus stops, because we already have homeless shelters, so its kind of odd that we'd have a shelter...for busses, athough they're not for busses they are for people. I do like the idea of a place for vagrant busses, and the visions of them all sitting there talking about their lives

"So what happened to you?"

"Me? Oh well I used to do a sleepy route through Lancaster, but then they re-assigned me to the big city, I never did quite get with it and these new darn-fangled ways of life. You?"

"Ahhhh, well to cut a long story short my conductor left me, with only a half tank of diesel and several passengers to support...needless to say we crashed, I lost a good fender that day. I've been wandering ever since"

"Deep man...Deep"

Not that a homeless person would do such a thing, but oh well. I like the joy you feel when you give a homeless man a sandwich and a can of cheap cider. The notion of giving to a homeless person is pretty fulfilling, even if it is a cheap bottle of Strongbow. Also the feeling that they'll cherish the booze more than the sarnie is a good one.

I like the way that it's really hard to syncronise Bob Dylan's singing to other people speaking. I tried it at work today with several engineers talking at another's desk. Needless to say I thought I had it until the harmonica came in. That shit it up, I wonder what an engineers equivalent of a harmonica is? Assuming they can't play a harmonica, which I'm going to purely guess in saying that most engineers don't know how to play. Oh it'd be so ace if they were all little jazz & blues enthusiasts underneath it all. The Quantity Surveyors would well be bass guitar, keeping the shit humming over nice and smoothly. The execs would be the guitars, showing off. The cleaners would have to be tambourines.

I wish there was such thing as a human tambourine. Like when you wrap a towel around your waist and then spread your legs apart...A lá kilt...and then drum on the taught towel. Although you would need some sort of tambourine style mini-symbols surgeried into your sides. That may be painful, but it'd well be the ultimate body modification this side of having another arse grafted to your chest. Arse-Chest, the worlds biggest surprise...WHERE WILL HE SHIT FROM NEXT?!!??!?!?! I am assuming Arse-Chest Man's second arse functions in much the same way as his natural arse.

Is it possibly to breed a person with a giant arse? It'd be so great for kicking. I like to believe that we are all born with a certain set amount of pride when we're born, and as we get older it dwindles until eventually when we have lost all control of our bladders in public situations we may have none left. I like how a baby would not know this and then commits a series of stupid things that would lower its pride level normally, but do not considering you would have to make a special exception for a baby as its too young to think fully. Speaking of pride, I like how manliness walks hand in hand with it. I love how if I accidently lose my bearings on a tube and get off at the wrong stop but know its the wrong stop as I step off, I will not step back on for fear of humiliation. I would rather cut my own arse off and drink its juices. Instead I opt to move to the opposite platform before hurrying back after the train and anyone who knows of my existence can no longer be seen.

I like randy male pigeons who make their necks massive and fat and then chase the females around. I'd much prefer it if we could do such things in the human world.

"Oi, my neck is a lot fatter than yours, I demand your wife as a result of this fortunate trait"

"Ahhh well, uhhhh, I bet your expenses on scarfs is through the roof"

*breaksdown*

...such if the trauma of living with a fat neck. Poor randy pigeons, scarfs are an expensive luxury for them. Remember this you trendy bastards that wear scarfs in beginning of Autumn, thing of those poor randy pigeons, beady eyed, shitting everywhere, necks too fat for a scarf.

I read the line "beady eyed" as beardy eyed. Which sounds so much better. To have a beardy eye would be an awesome item to have on oneself. So many blind people would come about when it is time to clip it. What would everyone do with their eye beard? Would they handlebarise the upper half and turn the bottom half into some sort of...Merciless Ming affair?

Why was Merciless Ming so useless? Kind of like those Putties out of Power Rangers, I hated that show as a kid, it was so shite. But whoever designed the Putties must have been an idiot, why put the "death spot" slap bang on its chest? That person must have designed the Death Star from Star Wars...

"So, this "Death Star" of yours, you say it has a very fragile inner core?"
"Yes, I suppose that is very true"
"So if say, something was to hit this core and break it, it'd be pretty...fatal wouldn't you say?"
"Yeah, I guess so"
"SO WHY THE COCKING SHIT DID YOU BUILD A HOLE FROM THE OUTSIDE ALL THE WAY THROUGH TO IT?"
"It...It gets so dark in there"

You have to feel sorry for the putties though. THEY CAN NEVER HUG. They can never cuddle when they fall in love, lest they wish to kill each other. They can never hug to celebrate a moment.

"Yeah! The Power Rangers are dead! High Five guys!"
*High Fives*
"I mean did yo usee the red ranger get his innards ripped out by that giant manatee that Lord Zalronsdfggsgshjjjkkkkkfdfg created, it was so ace, group hug!"
*Group death





I think it is something that people who are afraid of hugging should remember. Feel it while you can, if you were a putty, a hug would be as deadly as a rabbit that wanted a Cobra as a pet.



I'm terminally shite at anything to do with photo editing. Therefore I leave it simple these days. Unlike the text that goes alongside the picture. READ THAT EASILY YOU BASTARDS.

How do you find out about a weak spot like the one they have? I love the fact that someone could make a troop so useless that they couldn't honestly expect to win anything...ever. Kind of like the French army during the Prussian wars. They were pretty bad at winning. Despite their humungous numercial advantages.

I love shit ideas. Ideas such as:

• I know! Lets invade Russia (Hitler...Napoleon).
• Lets fill a ship so much, that it can't float (Mary Rose).
• The Ugandan Space Programme.
• Putting a recording device in the US Oval Office (*cough* Richard Nixon)
• Setting your hat on fire to keep yourself warm.

I like the thought that I hope never speak to a friend again as the last time I saw them their hat was on fire. Don't know why, it just was. I like to think that if someone asks me when the last time I saw that person, I can reply.

"Oooh, must have been a year or two ago now, their hat was on fire the last time I saw them"

This never fails to raise a smile. I like smiling. I like how its all BAM...happiness. And how such happiness and smiling can cause suspicions. A smiler is hiding something. My grandmother told me that. I dunno why. She's always smiling herself, probably because she wont turn her hearing aid on and can't hear you, so she smiles to be polite. Maybe that's what she's hiding, deafness? Either than or she's an android, send from the PAST, yes...the past and she's been sent to destroy something cute and fluffy, or a randy male pigeon. I hate how everything in films thats sci-fi-y has to come from the future. I say fuck it, send it forward from the past. I saw a well good idea for a film a few years back, I think it was Japanese. Its about going back in time with tanks and guns to fight a mongol style army. One sided you may think? NO! This olde style army has demons or some other crazy stuff on their side. I mean, c'mon, as if that is a match for a sidewinder missile straight to the face.

Must be great to move as fast as a missile. It'd make that game you play in a car really shite though. The one where you vision yourself running alongside the car and jumping over stuff or cutting down the trees and things and cutting hills and mountains and all sorts. YOU'D BE GOING FAR TO FAST TO DO THAT. I wish you could slow down or stop time. Not to enjoy a moment but to arrange people into compromising situations and positions. In a suspended animated world ruled by me, there would be many a hand on many an arse when time resumes. I'd also make sure that the world operated on the policy of old comedies where the lady would then turn around and go "COH" and then slap the bloke, right in his mutton chops. Everyone should have mutton chops.

I like how stereotypical Germans have their mutton chops and how I have a german slang book and I love the way it makes no sense whatsoever to call someone a "ball muncher" in German. Why would one want to munch balls? This would be beneficial to neither party. Unless one is a canibal, if so, why run the risk of a reprisal when eating and munching on the live balls? It'd make more sense to remove the balls.

Why do touch lamps only work when you touch them and not tap them with a nail or something else similar? Like a mouse touch pad on a laptop. A stylus simply wont work for a bloody mighty fist will. A knuckle hardly works either unless you're a fatty. Which im not. I'm reliably told that fatter people make for excellent sex, I do not know if this is true, and I probably should find out but there are so many. The choices!

Sorry, I can't quite get away from the upsetting thoughts of putties. Spare a thought for those poor bastards.

There are places I'll remember all my life

"though some have changed,
Some forever not for better,
Some have gone and some remain,
All these places have their moments,
With lovers and friends I still can recall,
Some are dead and some are living,
In my life I've loved them all"

(In My Life - The Beatles)

I didn't ever think that the Beatles could sum something up so damn well. Fair play to them, sure it is just a generalised song. But they're simply the best ones. You make your own mind up on the meaning and they seem to be attributable to your life because of it. I see it as an acknowledgement of all the brilliant people you've met and loved, but at the same time a need to move on and leave them behind. Memories are sometimes the best things to hold on to if the relationship is battered and worn.

So this is where I start again. Out with the old and in with the new. I've felt utterly rubbish the last few days, sure I've had fun, but something is missing and some parts of my life are still clinging to me when no longer want or need them. None of what I write makes sense anymore, I'd blame it on the fever I seem to have currently, also the hangover and high anxiety that feels like someone is smashing your chest in. I've no idea why the anxiety is getting more frequent and annoying, I'm not happy about something but I don't know what. Maybe it's been just a crap couple of months and I'm taking it too much to heart. The cat of 17 years dies, general health deteriorates somewhat and sleep gets worse. I feel like I'm stuck between two different mind sets.

The more outgoing, happy go lucky character that likes to get stuck in and have fun. Or the more introverted, quiet type who busies himself and gets on with things without interfering with those around him. When I was younger I was muchly the latter, but High School changed the old mentality. But was it for the better? I used to always wait for things to happen and never jump at a chance or risk anything. Doing anything took nothing. Life passes you by and you want to see some more of the action but in doing so you lose the peace of mind. Maybe I want to return to that and shut myself off from the world for a bit. I really need to do some travelling and get away from this country. I think it's definitely come to the point where I can't stand the place any longer. If any opportunities come to work abroad after uni I think I'm going to have to take them.

It probably says a lot when all you really want to do is go outside and scream from the agitation and frustration in your life. Still I know I don't have it as bad as most. I know where my career is going, I'm delighted with it. I'm seeing the bigger picture now I'm in London and I've learnt a massive amount in a few short months. But I still don't know where I want to go as a person. I want to let things go but they keep sticking there in my throat. I really don't know which way to turn. I think I really need a holiday! A day off and a weekend every now and then isn't really enough. I want 2 or 3 weeks just to do nothing of any general importance.

I think to put it all bluntly, I want to feel alive again, I want to live in bliss.


"Though I know I'll never lose affection,
For people and things that went before,
I know I'll often stop and think about them,
In my life I love you more"

I want you more than you know

So, this weekend has been a mixed affair, the cat gets run over but somehow survives and hopefully is going to be alright... And I get to go and see a rather mad exhibition.

So Saturday comes and we still haven't decided what we want to do for the weekend. Then the suggestion comes to go to an exhibition, a games and movie fair. Description as follows.

"London MCM Expo 2008
25 Oct 2008 to 26 Oct 2008Public
London MCM Expo is the UK's No.1 consumer show for Movie, Comic, Anime, Manga & Video Games. Meet stars from TV & Film, Costume characters, play Magic The Gathering, see and play the newest and yet to be released video games. All the best Anime & Manga all in one place just for you. Take part in competitions and have a fun day out. KIDS GO FREE*"

Now, I wasn't really too fussed what I was doing so long as it was something. So I only read into it this far, (see bolded letters). Completely missing the bit in italics.

"London MCM Expo 2008 25 Oct 2008 to 26 Oct 2008PublicLondon MCM Expo is the UK's No.1 consumer show for Movie, Comic, Anime, Manga & Video Games. Meet stars from TV & Film, Costume characters, play Magic The Gathering, see and play the newest and yet to be released video games. All the best Anime & Manga all in one place just for you. Take part in competitions and have a fun day out. KIDS GO FREE*"

So halfway there on the DLR, the world most terrifying train, it never looks like someone is actually driving or generally interacting with the damn thing. And the sites of numerous nearby incomplete rail bridges and the likes is quite unnerving. But still, I start to notice a few odd characters. Okay, its public transport, there is a high likelihood of nutters being present at a given moment. However, not usually ones with cardboard swords and 'dragon-ball z' hair. At this point in time I wasn't really putting 2 and 2 together. Neither was Matt, who's idea it all was. Spreading the blame is not nearly as good as acutely assigning it to a destination! But still, to be fair it wasn't all that bad.

So we arrive and its a pretty large place. However nothing yet alerts me to any such sort of cosplay event. To those unawares to Cosplay, its a sort of...well people dress up as comic book and computer game characters etc. It can be rather hilarious when they look shite.

So we start getting nearer and in a bar along the way we notice four stormtroopers, minus hats, having a beer. Which was an excellent photo opportunity, but due to a lack of camera, this wasn't possible. Although I recently bought a camera its not with me here. Which is an arse really. Despite the Star Wars part I still hadn't cottoned onto the true nature of the event. Until, we enter that is. Somehow we didn't notice the ticket stand so proceeded to wander all of the way through to the other then of the exhibition centre.

The things I saw, fat girls dressed as Final Fantasy characters. Super Mario, Lara Croft et al. Amongst a whole host of various Anime things, I'm guessing the latter as I had no idea whatsoever to who they were. A few Batman Jokers were added in too for effect.

So its a Cosplay event, I'm staring in amazement and yelling at Matt for where he's brought me. However things get a little more bizarre...at the other end of the arena. A rather harmless event, but one when put next to a bloody cosplay event makes for a poor mix.

An Islamic gathering, complete with talks and the works. I should have picked up on this outside the venue when I saw a number of Muslim lads handing out leaflets and cards to The Joker and several Japanese girls dressed as sailors. Possibly not the best way to sell something to someone dressed the way they were. But regardless, whoever planned for these events to be on at the same time on the same day needs a bloody medal. Its what I love to see.

But what made me really laugh, but something which no one else seemed to get, was the man dressed up in a crusader outfit. I'm guessing as the guy from Assassins Creed, walking through the Islamic section. What better way than to not incite religious violence, than to walk through an Islamic expo dressed as one of Richard the Lionheart's men. Nicely done.

The world at work. What a great place.

It has all gone a bit Kerouac

Writing on the fly so to speak has never felt so damn good. The last month has shot by in a blur of naked arses, chickens, objects of desire and a sloshing of happy juice, otherwise known as Sloe Gin.

The trouble with London is that everything is so very impersonal. You see someone one day, you never see them again. However there are a select few who seem to be always there on the same commute pattern as you, but oh well. Still a way of life so impersonal doesn't really give you great chance to get to know people. I mean you see interesting faces, beautiful girls and the odd complete nutter who's talking to a wall/bottle/vision, but you never have the opportunity to get to know such folk. I'm pretty certain that the good looking girl on the tube with loads of apples in bags would be a lovely person to get to know, but after speaking on a 10 minute tube ride, you don't really seem to get anywhere, other than one liners and apple related jokes. "You must have loads of horses, well either loads of horses or one really massive, happy horse".

However there is a bonus to such an impersonal way of life. You can really screw around with people as you know they will never ever see you ever again. Or at least you can hope and pray. When riding the underground, one tends to go for the vertical bars first, these are easiest to hold (well you'd go for a seat first but there's no chance of getting a seat on the Jubilee line at half 7 in a morning). The final options are either stand with the power of your legs to fight the sway of the tube. A risky up taking if you've have a rough evening or a liquid lunch. Therefore you have to submit to all that is wrong with the world and go for the horizontal bars. Which seem so very high up, this is true for someone of a short disposition. I am one of that disposition. At 5ft 6/7, its hard to be anything else other than an arm rest to those over 6ft.

On these bars, considering my height, I do tend to look like I'm doing one half of a Nazi salute. Most tube rides wouldn't know what one is and a majority wouldn't be paying attention anyway. But it is most satisfying to then rub under your nose and stroke your tash area while holding onto that bar. Some people see it and giggle and other stare in amazement. And i know, I'll never see the bastards again.

Other than this, an impersonal lifestyle can bring about great moments to suddenly do something erratic. Staring expressions and crazed eyes being a sure-fire winner. Especially when babies and impressionable children are on the vehicle. Glaring at them "a la family guy monkey" and suddenly stopping when their mother checks to see what the matter is, is somewhat priceless. Or when reading a book, suddenly before turning the page, look up an say to whoever is watching "I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!!!!" is somewhat awesome. It makes them so uncomfortable, some smile, other stare in disbelief. This one works really well when it comes to reading a newspaper.

Dribbling. I shan't say anymore on that one.

Speaking of dribble, Selfridges is shit. There's not alot in there really. I swear half the people walking around with them little bright yellow shitfridges bags didn't buy anything more than a pencil or a bog roll. Although its a great place to pretend that you're important. "Yes, I'm looking for a a Chanel bag for my wife", "I need a Rolex that goes with my hands". The latter was a particular fave. To reject a 50k watch on grounds of it "making my hands look huge" is a highlight of my month that was.

Still, there is endless opportunity for mischievous play and pranks galore. There is little or no fear of retaliation unless you're targeting some pissed, bald headed bloke who supports Millwall. If you did that, then i suggest running being the best option.

I think i mentioned bald arses earlier, I'd go and check but i really cannot be arsed. But yeah anyways. I get into Stafford station as i was going home for weekend last, and as usual my parents are late so i had to sit around in the station and doss about in general. I might like to add that i usually go to Stoke station but due to poor road traffic and a quieter train on the Stafford route, i decided to go there. Okay it was a wonderfully quiet journey and very fast, 10 minutes fast in fact. However I get to Stafford and WHAM...oddballs, everywhere. Okay, Stoke is no heaven for the mentally secure and those unhinged in regards to sincerity and their own inhibitions. But really though, Stafford was full of nutters. People running in shouting, "where are the trains?!", others shouting at the floor such things as "WHO ARE YOU TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO EH?". Its the floor mate, it will win in a fight. Even if you smash up the tiling, you've got the foundations and hardcore to get through. Assuming you beat it that badly, you've still got the small matter of a few miles of the Earths crust to think about. Lets not even discuss the mantle.

Other than that it seemed to be a loop of people. Walking out one door, re-appearing at another. Very strange, like a Laurel and Hardy sketch of every day life. One person, i swear to god had a different hat on each time. I was going to enquire, when i was completely caught off guard by a woman, no older than 20 walking around with the trousers below her arse, arse showing, not the front arse, that was secured by something or other. But my god it wasn't a pretty sight. No one else seemed to care though, not even the woman shouting at her son "JASON, GET OFF BOB THE BUILDER" poor bob the builder, he moves up and down on his digger for 50p. Such is the life of washed up children's cartoon characters. I saw Thomas the Tank Engine the other day, for 50p you could make him hump a rail track. Poor bastard.

Pah, Ive lost my train of thought now. I hope no people ever read this.

Its been a while

A very long while indeed. Much has happened, I'm now working and living in London. I've only been here for a month and I've sampled the delights of:

• 2 and a half hour commute in and out of the city from a lovely town outside of London.
• Hall of residence twice as shit as my budget one in Sheffield...and twice as shit.
• Using the underground... every... bloody day.

And to sum it all up, its pretty shit, but hey, the jobs good and it pays, and the colleagues are nice.

I spent my first week commuting in from Banbury to London Marylebone. Marylebone is an odd station, its looks small, but that walk...which turns in a run, to your train seems to last forever. I did see Denis Wise there on a Thursday, he was on the phone. I know, fascinating. I should write for 'The Sun'. Commuter trains are odd as well, the people there are really friendly, but none of them talk very much. At first this struck me as odd as most of them see each other every day. But as the week went on your understand why. At 6am in the morning, everyone is knackered and cannot be arsed to speak and would rather sleep. By 5-6pm in the evening, everyone is knackered and cannot be arsed to speak and would rather sleep. Your day is that hectic, with tube travel, work and the daily stresses it brings, you just don't want to speak to anyone. But oddly, you're happy when you do. Its very odd. Commuting therefore, isn't a great idea, hats off to those who do it, to go to work that early (which is was okay with as I'm an early riser anyway), and come back so late, and to do this every week is no mean feat. Mentally its a mind raper. I'd rather work closer to home for less pay and spend more time with my family, but hey, that's me.

Next up, its been a month in student halls, still looking for somewhere new to live permanently all the while, but not really finding anywhere, and when I do, it falls through at the last moment, or sounds too dodgy to be true, and it usually was. The halls in in currently are not that bad, for what they are, but they are really for the money you pay. I was lucky to find them and be recommended them so I'm not going to complain too much. They basically are student halls for the local university which are open up to foreign students and corporate events throughout the summer, while the students are away. A good idea indeed, and one which earns them a lot of money i suspect, its already got £600 big ones out of me. The bastards. You get all your bills paid for (which Ive abused no end to get my monnies worth).

The down side however is that its a hall of residence, which are shit if you're a professional. Its also shit if you want to cook a decent meal as you cant. Everyone around me is foreign, which is fair enough, I couldn't give a toss where they are from. However, I want someone who speaks English who understands English humour and doesn't make me say things ten times before they laugh for no reason at a phrase like "dinner time". It does amaze me why so many foreigners come to London, there is a whole country outside of the damn place, go see it. Its way better.

Another issue with the halls is a major one. You're required to move out of your room by 10am...and the booking in time is 2pm. A common feature of the halls is that you have to move regularly, usually once a week, to a different room. Usually when a large party comes in and wants to rent out an entire floor. Which is fair enough yeah, i can tolerate that. However the problems come in that 4 hour "dead" period. You move out by 10...and can move to your new room at 2pm. What happens between? You cant store your baggage in the halls as they wont let you. If you work on the 22nd floor of an office building over 10 tube stops away. What the feck do you do? If i take 6 bags somehow onto the Jubilee line, I would get shot by a bastard commuter.

Living 'down south' so to speak is not what it is cracked up to be. People say "oooh working in London? That'll be exciting". No, no it wont. Its exciting if you're visiting it for a day or so, because its something different that the usual day to day activities of your life (assuming you live outside of London). The truth is somewhat bleaker:

You start your day woken by the heat and an alarm of some sort. You then struggle to the tube station, and then go for your oyster card, but no, the scanner isn't working, so you enter anyway. You the get crammed like sardines into a tin can that's noisy, sweaty and full of armpits equipped with homing devices that make a beeline for peoples faces. Other than that's its rather pleasurable...if you're into kinky shit like that, which I'm not. Your train then stops in the tunnel for 5 minutes, you're melting in the heat and some arsehole is getting impatient and ranting about the tubes and how shit they are (probably shouldn't mention that I'm now working as part of the team that's upgrading and maintaining them eh?). You then get to work, you do your 9 to 5...assuming you get there on time. Then its the same journey home, and its rinse and repeat until done.

What I really don't get about the capitol, is the rushing about, running everywhere, moaning if something is delayed by a nanosecond. People moaning about the tube...you should be fucking grateful, i get a bus every hour or two in the countryside, which costs a fortune. Yet on the tube, depending on where you're going you can can span the city in an hour or so for 4 quid. You also get free newspapers and magazines every bloody day...okay they re full of shit news about celebrities I couldn't give a shit about. Mark Ronson for example, what is so good about him? Here is what Mark Ronson does...He takes a song, adds brass (trumpets etc) to said song. Then flogs it to thick bastards who lap it up like a dog that's been given a bowl of water after been strapped to a log in a desert for a day. However as I was saying, on busses, you would be lucky to get a free used condom, never mind news rags.

Still I supposed you get a 'cosmopolitan' lifestyle down here,...Whoop dee doo, whatever the feck a cosmopolitan life is. If someone tells me it once more, I'll throttle them. Anywhere branded as 'cool to live' is going to be shit. The word 'Cosmopolitan' has become a word I now fear, as it means I'm going to hate something. Therefore as a rule of thumb, fuck London, fuck New York. They will both be shit. I'd rather be in New Zealand or Barcelona, Spain.

And besides that, who the fuck is Agyness Dean?