Tuesday, 26 October 2010

Why are we on a tropical island?

First night out since my surgery. Options are:

1. Take it easy, I'm out of practice, drinks are going to hurt.
2. Sod that, I'm from the North.

One bottle of my favourite poorly disguised Southern Comfort knock off later, and option 2 was no longer option 2, but reality.

No, I did not drink the entire bottle myself, I'm from Newcastle, not Glasgow. Partners in crime for this occasion being Chris and Erminia. Breed 77 Karaoke is becoming a highlight of my evening on Saturday. Note to readers, Chris cannot sing. What I do is actually considered a warcrime. Poor, poor Min. And Paul, Pedro, Danny, Stu and Oscar, if you ever ever read this, we're truly sorry for what we do to your music (Pete too I suppose).

After being forced to listen to Placebo in my own home, we decided we should probably not leave Dale in the cold any longer. Poor baby.

We met a shivering and confused Dale at the bus stop, and headed out to meet Ben and crew for some drinks as Ben is now old. After making the sensible decision of downing a treble whiskey and coke, it was straight to Krash, minus...everyone but Ben. How does that work?

Anyways, after being generous on the door, theres not an awful lot I remember of the evening. I spent £50 on what I can only assume was drinks for everyone. I must've downed every damn jagerbomb I bought, as eveytime I went to take a drink I ended up on the dance floor. I know for a fact I bought Marc a drink, and that doesn't happen. Ever. Thanks for an excellent night, to all who were there, even If i don't remember seeing you. Im sure it wouldn't have been the same without you...kind of. I'm actually not really sure of much anymore, but that's for another time.

We just managed to make it to the bus, which I'm informed was packed with people I know. It could've been full the brim with shurikens and lightning for all I remember. Conversations at subways can go on for a lengthy time when you're so drunk you can barely walk, and luckily with this one involving the middle Clements brother, Im glad I barely remember.

The next day was less glorious, but I'll tell you  one thing I've learned, if you're ever going to be naked and vomit on yourself, do it in the shower.

Friday, 22 October 2010

Of herbs and failed caramel.

I have just ran into something I cannot cook : confectionary. Herbs have nothing to do with it really, but who can grab the reference?

Anyways, that's besides the point, I SUCK at cooking with sugar. I'm not used to this. I usually succeed in creating something resembling what it's supposed to be everytime, but praline apparently has evaded me.
I'm gonna nail it next time. With nuts. Yeah.

In other news, I am the greatest friend ever. Consider if you will, that I gave someone a ball of fat as a gift and they were overjoyed.  Admittedly it was an Adipose, and they're fairly fucking cool, but still, I'm awesome.
Ego trip over. By the way, to the Death. This blog is probably going to end up filled with in jokes, and sci-fi/geek references. If you spot a reference, comment and ask, and I'll congratulate or mock you.

Plans for adventures on the weekend include : Sleeping, Drinking, Sleeping. It is great to have alcohol back, in the same way it's great seeing an old friend, but an old friend that you remember you fucking hate, but don't quite want to cut out of your life. If you know what I mean. Hangovers that feel as if you've been super-effectively critically hit by a freight train full of whales are not a pleasant companion on Sunday morning.

Halloween is looming, and I am predicting an epic night due to Krash being open till 4 as it's after pay day, and the clocks going back an hour, so we'll effectively be dressed up like twats, mortal drunk until 5 in the morning, and everyone is going out.  I'm afraid I'll be cheaping out and going as a zombie, unless somebody wants to donate there face for my buffallo bill costume...just kidding, the kids in the basement will do.

Oh, and you're my bitch tommorow night.

Tuesday, 19 October 2010

How I love Anteaters.

Having nothing to blog about, I'm going to rant about how awesome anteaters are. You know in Jurassic Park, when they rant about the raptor's sickle claw (and somehow, eveyones got one), and how it disembowels people left right and centre? Triple that, and you're close to an Anteaters foreclaws. They use these things to batter their way through feet of baked clay. And to kill Zookeepers. Look it up. They're deadly.

You ever seen an animal with a tube for a face, and a tongue that would embarass Gene Simmons? Anteater's have that nailed down. Who needs a mouth, or  teeth, when you can mush 20,000 ants with the inside of your tube-face?

Another thing which makes anteaters awesome, is the fact that they eat ants. They're the size of bears. They eat ants.

They have giant toilet brushes for tails, and they don't even look real, in short, giant anteaters are the coolest animals on earth.

I'd love to own an anteater. I can imagine it would make me happy for a very long amount of time.

But for now I'll take this.

If you've been meaning to tell someone something then do, they may need to hear it as much as you needed to say it.

I liked the anteater diversion though.

And in case you haven't figured, yeah, there's lots to blog about, but that's mine.

Maybe later guys.

Sunday, 17 October 2010

Musings on Ego, or; For Christ's sake go home!

Sometimes, I get too egotistical, a flaw I share with some most almost all of my friends. The cause of it this time, is actually this. This blog, right here, is to blame, and all of you who read it.

Since starting it, I've had nothing nothing but positive feedback, people telling me they've been genuinely laughing at it etc, and it's starting to make me think I might be a decent writer ( I mean genuinely think, naturally I already assumed I'm just brilliant).

People have actually been starting conversations with me based on what I've written, less than an hour after I've posted, harrassing me to write more, and making the effort to keep up with it. My favourite, and probably most worrying comment so far being, and I do quote "I'm following it now like some creepy stalker :3". Cheers for that, now draw me a damn ninja.

With regards to the alternate title, it's really more of an extension of the first half. Minn has spent practically her entire weekend here, due almost certainly to the fact that I'm a brilliant human being, and that there's no better option. This is mostly what's fueling my ego right now.

My house is free now, so you get another entry to my ongoing saga, you lucky people.
Join the hell up and leave me comments now to keep the furnace alight, you disobediant fucks.

Saturday, 16 October 2010

A Bandwagon I Never Did Imagine I'd Ride.


Old Friends

Alcohol has been gone. I'm going to attempt to bring it back today. My throat is feeling an awful lot better, I'm still in the same considerable amount of pain, however I'm in it without medication, which can most definately be seen as progress. This is why I've decided that Alcohol can come back, I've missed it.

Going out is still a most definate no, as I thoroughly do not want to become a walking infection right now. Mostly out of fear of becoming Patient Zero of the Z-pocalypse (patient One always seemed a more apropriate moniker, but hell, it's not for me to decide), but also because I really just don't feel up to it.

I had a lovely time last eve with Charli, we spent it swinging away our troubles and worrying horses, it was somewhat poetic. The specifics of the conversation however [ RECORDS DELETED BY THE INQUISITION]

Today however, I'm sat at home, recently cleaned, wondering wether I should risk an Indians. Im off to cook some chicken based nutrition now, so its time to say goodbye, slam on some Pendulum, and set the volume to "melt furniture".

Friday, 15 October 2010

Not happening like.

Can't be bothered to blog, nothing eventful has happened, I'm off the meds, have this as recompense.


Thursday, 14 October 2010

Laziness Defeated: Level Up!

Since I missed a day I decided I really needed to kick laziness in the crotch, so here goes another entry of "what the hell Penner's been doin'. "

First up was Darren's birthday. Which was an experience. I've never before gone out when people where drinking and not had a drop of alcohol. It quite enjoyed it, but not in the usual, people-are-mortal-and-I'm-sober, and thus they're idiots and I can mock them, but because people werent really drunk, so everything was relaxed and chatty. Apart from Minn, who is positively evil. It's your fault people ask the question. All your's.

After a group of folks who I like arrived (One of the few gatherings where I actually liked everyone present), Crazy Bald John (who is indeed crazy, bald, and John) arrived, whom I did not know. I like Crazy Bald John.
I like most people who make me laugh.

We shortly left the Powder Monkey to head to the Dorset, and I decided a catch up with my dear friend Hannah was in order. I dislike being wrong, I dislike it intensely. Hannah, you're a bad man.

In due course we arrived at our destination, and the pool began. I do not play pool, and so surprisingly enough, I did not play pool. I sat and laughed as people got more intoxicated and attempted to play pool. Except Ken, who got off a magnificently flukey trick shot, rebounding off three cushions, and hitting the ball at the most impossible looking angle and still pocketing it. Bravo Mr Sir.

Comedy discussions are always best a little over the limit, and somehow we got swung onto the topic of "What if Arnie starred in everything?" Daniel owned the night in one phrase: Wingardium Leviosa. Just say it, imagine it, treasure it, a classic that never was.

Little else stood out, however I did laugh aplenty, causing me much enjoyment and pain, and soon enough it was time to go home. By the end of the night I had literally been asked by all involved what was going on, except Andy, who, in true drunken fashion, simply assumed and refused to be corrected. Congratulations Minn, and it still didn't work, so you deal with him.

Tuesday, 12 October 2010

I'm very tired, and feeling very D'awh.

I'm too tired to write anything legitimate. I've had a very nice night, I'll probably write about it tommorow, but I couldn't not post before I went to bed.

Cheers darlin'.

Monday, 11 October 2010

Ice Cream and Children

In light of the title, I feel compelled to swiftly clarify that this is most certainly not a post about grooming tips.
It is however, about the fact that my visitor stream seems to be two at a time, in this episode, Jake & Lucy.
I really am getting rather used to people coming to give me sympathy, and it's delicious.

As usual, the day began with what can only be described as...fuck it, you think of a metaphor for extremely sore throat, I'm done. I should note that this was about 1 o'clock pm, as I found it very difficult to get to sleep.

Got showered etc to avoid the aforementioned bear problem, and went downstairs to make a bowl of my favourite paste-like substitute for actual nutrition: Bird's Semolina. I actually love this stuff, and did before this whole caper, and I cannot fathom why people are put of by its mild-adhesive like appearance. Well, ok, it looks foul, I get it, but as with anything that doesn't look so appetising it's much better covered in golden syrup (One imagines Sarah Jessica Parker is probably exempt from this rule...).

Warmed and passably nourished, I sat down to write most of yesterdays blog, but found myself distracted by a website whose rules strictly prevent me from informing you of which internet site I'm not allowed to inform you of. It turns out there's not only so much cats in boxes you can look at.

Next on my itinerary of geek was more Ratchet and Clank, and to my surprise and mild horror I found I was enjoying playing as Clank...I think I'm broken. However, this was abrubtly interrupted (I say abruptly, but obviously "Just one more Level! Syndrome kicked in") by the arrival of  Jake & Lucy.

I reinstate my earlier advice of "go forth and aquire a serious injury", because:

  • The morphine is really worth it
  • People give you presents
So far, every woman I've encountered since I became bereft of my tonsils has given my gifts, and thankfully Lucy was no exception. No tonsils, check. Ok, so paracetamol, ice cream, a load of chomps, and Pineapple Express to watch make Lucy a very good guest. Everyone is being wonderful¹.

We geeked about, and caught up etc, ate ice cream (see, it's relevant), and somehow got on to talking baby names. I would like to inform you all now, that Lucy and I are having children (how we're obtaining them is to be determined). We're naming them Isaac, and Isobella (to be shortened to nothing but Izzy). Sorry to anybody this may disappoint on either side. And I told you this wasn't about paedophiles.

In short order Lucy had to leave to obtain her delicious noodles from home, so Jake and Myself needed to cook food. Let me remind you, that he came to visit me because I'm in a right state and need looking after by my friends. I cooked him his fucking tea. As usual. Basically what I'm trying to say is, Jake, I love you, but for fucks sake.

We talked shit for a while, then he left for home due to him having to travel quite a distance (ok say you can get points for actually making it here i s'pose.) Finished yesterday's blog, then I tried to sleep, and I couldn't.
Luckily, there's a certain insomniac who kept me amused 'till the small hours, with tumblr, and d'awh.

Sleep followed, which, as usual wasn't eventful, and so ended Sunday.

A thank you to all of thee who are reading this, anyone that doesn't have an account should get one and comment me, as I'm a being of ego and this would help motivate me. If you'll excuse me now, I've just had a somewhat brilliant idea and I'm off to draw some ninjas...

¹ In case any of you were wondering "what did Jake bring you?"
  Lucy. I am entirely convinced he could've convinced Jesus that Disneyland was a shithole, and that he should be holidaying in Auschwitz.

Sunday, 10 October 2010

With Friends Like These,

Who Needs Enemies? Anything Else.

Pretty much sums up the post.

Yesterday Zapps and Minn came over, in what I am thinking of as "The Saturday Night Salvage Mission".
I'm not allowed to go into crowded places (in case of : infections/breathing difficulties/somebody recognising me), therefore the usual Saturday of getting blitzed in Newcastle was a big no, and I imagined I'd be facing my computer screen for countless lonely hours before passing out on my bed, thank Christ I was wrong. Zapps agreed to come see me so I was less pathetic and alone, and because he quite fancied playing Ratchet and Clank some more (you know it's the truth, so don't pretend you're offended).

I busied myself with getting cleaned up, and medicating myself heavily so that I could resemble a woken-from-hibernation-too-early bear as little as possible, and had a nice shower (approximate time 1/10 shy of 10 seconds), and waited to not be alone on a Saturday night.

I miss the doorbell which failed to go off, as it was more than likely manufactured by underpaid Korean children, and I'm only alerted to the fact there's someone outside by the incessant howling of my otherwise useless dogs. Answering the door, I discover predictably Zapps is there, unexpectedly with a sideorder of Minn. DOUBLE CEREAL PRIZE!

Pizza and a movie was the next item on the menu, with the slight distraction of Minn giving my Mother a hug,(quite frankly, I'd rather roll in bees), and us trying to teach our recently aquired avian how to say "tits". Garlic bread was devoured, which in retrospect was such a stupid decision it left me wondering how I manage to dress myself. My throat this morning felt like I'd swallowed a porcupine covered in fibre glass. Today I've eaten things based on wether you could use them to stick wallpaper up.

Moving on, we watched Lords of Dogtown, which was an adventure for Minn, who'd yet to see it. Obviously, since she's not thoroughly shit she enjoyed it.

Blurry eyed at this point, bed was necesary, so after hugs, goodbyes, and grooming, Minn went home, and then today was here.

Daniel had stayed over. Daniel is now nearly finished Ratchet and Clank. He didn't sleep very much. This is one of the things I most admire about him, his absolute commitment...to the absolute wrong things.

Persistant Symptoms Or; The Curious Case of Oh Fuck I'm Deaf

Waking up is becoming akin to the worlds shittest lottery. Yesterday, incapacitating pain. Today my volume has been stolen.

Being roughly 80% deaf pretty much sucks. I'll move my head, something will shift, and I'll hear a word then miss the sentence as my ears decide they hate me again. This has yet to turn into any sitcom moments but there's plenty o' time.

I'm assured this is a common problem associated with trapped nerves and swelling and what not, and that it will go away eventually. It best do, or I'm buying some grease and selling my clothes.

On a related note, I am really appreciating my friends. They're pretty much ceaselessly looking after me, comforting me, and still, when necessary, reminding me that I'm a whiney Bitch.

Except you Zapps, you're just in it for the PS3.

Saturday, 9 October 2010

ASDFGHMYTHROAT HURTS, Or : How I learned to stop giving a shit about overdoses and love the Pills

Everybody has woken up in pain before. Headaches from booze, headaches from fighting, headaches from lack of sleep, general aches from sex, or after a particularly succesful jaunt, all of the above.

How many among you have woke up in literally blinding pain, unable to see due to tears, unable to hear due to swelling, and unable to breath or swallow? It's frightening. Like, corn-field filled with velociraptors frightening.

Two courses of action immediately presented themselves to my currently fragile brain:

Good idea: I've had too many painkillers, I should try and get back to sleep and ignore it.
Bad idea: I'm in so much pain I'll just grab a nice chemical hug and go back to sleep.

Suffice to say I made the Id fuelled choice of "Nom some Pills".  'Til now id been fairly sensible with my intake of drugs, just about keeping to times and doses, but it's true what they say, pain motivates.

Ask youself what got the pyramids built, a placebo, or a fucking whip?

According to my ever steadfast sidekick, the Internet, I should be reaching maximum swelling about now (and thus pain), therefore the end of this should be in sight.

Which would be nice, I suppose, if the end didn't look like a Tyranosaurus Rex holding a 6-pack and contraceptives.

Friday, 8 October 2010

Keystone Moments, or "Shatter Points"

Starting a blog is rarely considered a defining moment in ones life, and in this case, it certainly isn't.

However, what has has caused me to embark on this endeavor is slightly more important: I just had surgery for the first time ever.

The surgery itself, a tonsillectomy, was fairly minor. My major stress at the outset was the necessity of being anaesthetised, not even the unconscious vulnerability of it all, simply that I would need to have a tap inserted into my veins, enter trypanophobia.

To my absolute shock, I coasted through it, more than likely due to my anaesthetist being a hot blonde. Sometimes I'm just a regular guy, who knew?
Roughly ten seconds later (by my conscious continuum), I was coming to with a searing pain in my throat, and the horrifying suspicion that I had been violated by an elephant.

The surgery went fine, it turns out my tonsils were massive, and so I now had huge, painful, cauterised wounds where they had been.

The pain was intense, and I'm generally a whiney bitch, and so the next player enters the stage.

Act 2: Morphine

I hate needles. Hate, hate hate needles. But now I can honestly say I have a glimmer of understanding for heroin addiction. The feeling of not knowing where you are, what's happening, when it's happening, or why it's happening, and honestly not caring in the slightest, at all, because you can hover...seriously. Go forth and aquire a serious injury, it's worth it.

My Parents turned up, I don't really remember seeing them.

Then came the wellwishing friends. I say wellwishing, but I don't pretend to understand what motivates either of them (them being Blackett and Erminia), probably tits and....tits.

I got a whole host of gifts, and promises of servitude during my recovery, then I was told I look like shit by Blackett, and the same thing but ever-so-slightly more concerned and politely by Minn. To their credit, I did, a lot.

Then I spent the worst night of my life alone in hospital, in undiluted agony, pouring blood into a tube and sweating like I'd intruded on Scarlett Johansson doing her laundry. I never want surgery again.

Anyway, now I'm at home, and will be for half a month, so a blog has been started (partly inspired by Luke, so WOOPS to him and all that jazz)

I'm going to do my best to actually maintain it, and chronicle my recovery, and life etc.

So, wish me luck, and for the love of God, somebody read it please.