I'm didn't get naked.....oh there's photo's are there

I fire a shot at the man in black pointing a gun at me. He’s not very far away, but he’s half in shadow, so I can’t tell if I hit him or not. I raise my gun to fire again but when I pull the trigger nothing happens. Shit! Is the gun empty? What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I hold it up in front of me and try and tell what the hell is wrong with it. I start squeezing the trigger hoping it will fire. An old Slovakian appears from nowhere behind me and puts his hand on my gun and pushes it down and away from me. “Noooo…” he says gently as he takes it from me. Only then do I realise I was pointing the gun at my brother.

Exciting stuff hey. Well, I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you really, as apparently the stag do rule is “what goes on tour, stays on tour”. Needless to say, Gerry didn’t die, but he did get beaten up by two girls in bikini’s. And we did drink 91 pints between us in a five star hotel. And the majority of us threw up. A lot. Apart from that, I honestly don’t remember much except all my brother’s friends telling me on the way home that I could drink a lot as well as dance for hours, which as far as I’m concerned simply isn’t true.

But then again I do have another vague memory of deciding that my brother would have to drink as least as much as me, and then downing the rest of my pint. Maybe I took one for the boys hey. Because I fucking hate dancing. But I did love firing a gun.

I love you guys

This weekend was one of those times when lots of shit happens, but everyone is too drunk to be sure exactly what that shit was. Ignoring the shit for the moment, let’s focus on the hangover that comes the next day. Today. The hangover that makes you feel like you’re going to die and that you quite possibly want to kill the people who helped you get so fucked up too, only you feel too rough to do it.

Now I talk about hangovers a lot, about how sometimes they make the world seem beautiful, about how they can be kinda fun. But today’s hangover was not like that. It was like a never ending abyss of feeling like shit, and not being able to face making myself better. So I did the only thing I could, I sought help. I sought out one of my oldest friends, and luckily for me I got a bonus friend as well when I turned up at Tom’s house in the form of Susan.

I have known both of these people for a fucking long time. More than half my life. Tom is an almost Seinfeld shaped legend, and Susan is like my beautiful sister. And they made feel better. They reminded me that my life is pretty great, I just have to remember it. I mean, obviously my life is shit by most peoples standards, but the friends I have are so amazing that if I had a second mouth I would devote it solely to smiling all the time.

Susan really showed me why today though. She did the sweetest thing ever; she gave me a pencil holder. Now in itself that is a crappy present, but the fact that I had mentioned that I felt like I needed one for my business to her randomly at some point in the past and she had remembered, thought about it, about me, and got one is just… well it’s just perfect really isn’t it. So in honour of her, here is second limerick I ever wrote (I was going out with a girl called Carrie at the time)

There once was a girl that everyone knew as Susan
Who thought that it was her friendship I was abusin'
And although I'm not a poet you know
I just wrote this so I could show
That Carrie's friendship above hers, I'm not choosin'

I'm sorry this is poorly written...I'm a little hungover

So I discovered something weird last week, something that no-one is gonna care about, but something which I still feel like I should share. Where I live is under the flight path to Heathrow. I’ve lived here all my life and I’ve gotten used to the planes. While I was at uni I forgot about them for a while, but now that I’m back I’m just used to them again. I often stare up at them when they go by, as they are filled with people who have just arrived from another country, and so I like to gaze up and wonder about all the stories that are inside that big tin can.

So after a lifetime of gazing it seems strange than neither me nor any one I know has ever noticed that where we live under the flight path, or more specifically the green where we have spent many a summer getting wrecked, is exactly where the planes put their wheels down in preparation to land.

See I told you that you wouldn’t care. But I thought I would share anyway.

Talking of flying things, some birds have nested on my roof just above my bedroom, and recently their eggs have hatched. Aww I hear you say. BUT NO! Not aww, AAAAAGGGGHHHH. These baby birds never shut up. From sun up to sun down they don’t stop chirping for a minute. And what’s more, they have nested right inside the guttering so I can in no way see the little birds for the limited aww factor they might provide. I’m thinking of getting a scarecrow and sticking it out my window, but we all know what happened to Homer when he turned on the birds.

The Real Lesson Of Time Travel

You know when you’re watching TV and in whatever TV series you happen to be watching, the characters for some reason go back in time? And when they’re actually in the past, one of them will say something like “Be very careful not to affect anything, as even the slightest change which you make could drastically alter the future”. Come on, you know what I’m talking about, just about every TV series does it. Even the fucking Simpsons has done it. Remember now? Good.

So I was thinking about this the other day, and it occurred to me, why does it only matter what we do in the past? I mean sure, they have future knowledge and whatnot so could intentionally change things, but usually they just step on a bug or save someone’s life to change the future irrevocably. And these things require no knowledge of the future at all. This basically means, what these sci-fi writers are trying to drum into us is that we do make a difference. That every action that each individual takes is in fact vital to the universe, and so we should all get out there and take action as our actions count.

Nice thought isn’t it. Makes sense too. It even makes sense that the sci-fi writers would want to tell us this message, as I assume that they are mainly nerds so spend most of their time indoors with delusions of grandeur.

The thing is though, that I thought it through a bit more, and if you think about it, every episode in every show in which they travel back in time, when they do return to the future it has never changed. I mean sometimes it has until they go back and fix it, but all those bugs they’ve squished and tea they’ve drunk and lasers they’ve fired and whatnot haven’t affected anything. So real the lesson we should learn from these shows is that nothing we do affects anything. We could blow up the white house, exterminate a species or give all our enemies the plague. And the future wouldn’t change.

So all our actions are pointless. That sounds more like the message sci-fi writers would want to give us. There is a bitterness inherent with being a geek with too much power. All that knowledge and bullying mixed together isn’t a good thing.

So basically what I’m saying is this weeks lesson is that you can do what you want, as ultimately there are no repercussions.

Happy 256 Day

Ha I fooled you there for a minute there didn't I? I'm not depressed, it's 256 day! If ever a day could be an equal to my birthday or Christmas without presents then this is it. I was just trying to add a cliffhanger into the proceedings.

I've come to the conclusion from this day that you should spend more time thinking about what you could have and less time thinking about what you used to have. I have nothing but potential right now, but on this day I did like 256 suggests and lived like I should. And so I spent my day as I hope you spend many of yours, in the way I like best. In my pants playing xbox on a projector. On a bed. With snacks. And pancakes. And my girlfriend. And oh boy was I not sober.

Happy 256 day everyone.

PS I love you guys

I feel sick

So it’s 256 day tomorrow. My lucky day. My luckiest day. Theoretically the best day of my entire life. Yet I’m fucking depressed about it because I’m gonna spend it alone.

Never before has something this good felt so bad.