There's a board game called Pucket which is really fun. Jez and I played it a lot at the End of the Road festival, it's a bit hard to describe, but it's a wooden board with two strings of elastics on either side and you're meant to flick a puck through a gate in the middle of the board. Christ, it's mentally taxing trying to describe it so I'm going to give up. I've lost track on what I was going to talk about. Pucket is really fun, I recommend to anyone reading this that they check it out on youtube. Since no one goes on my blog except myself and Russian porn websites (bizarrely), I'm not really helping the company that make Pucket. Oh well, small things. End of the Road! Yes, I went there a few weeks ago. It was amazing fun. This year I went with: Jez, Katie, Ben, Ali, Jon and Jon. It was probably the best year, probably because of discovering Pucket. I had seen it at the previous years but never played because we were always in a massive gang and this year, Jez and me wandered around a lot, together. Not in a gay way. This year was a mix of emotions when it came to love, because Lady Rotisserie wasn't there, but she was replaced by Mademoiselle Crepe. Oh my, she was essentially perfect. It was basically love at first sight. Well, not really first sight, I saw her making the crepes and thought oh she's quite pretty. Then she made me a crepe (not for free, £3.50) and after taking the first bite, I remember looking up at her and thinking oh wow, you're amazing. That's when I fell in love. After 3 more crepes (spread over a day and an half), I mustered up the courage to speak to her, but due to my social awkwardness/dyslexia/shyness whatever, all I could think of was to say 'Where are you from?'. She replied 'I'm from Brittany'. My first thought was Bollocks, abort Will. But I persevered, however, my speaking part of my brain didn't - struggling to think of any miniscule thing I knew about Brittany, I failed and said 'Thaaaa thhhaaaat's a nice place'. Shit, well that's fucked, good one, well at least you tried. Still wanting to fight this because the loss of Lady Rotiserrie was still in my thoughts, I said 'I want to learn French'. She was still smiling whilst making my crepe but I think that was more due to politeness, she was probably thinking this guy is actually mental, sacrebleu, celine dion blah blah un deux trois. My grasp of French is rather weak. While I was taught it at school, I wasn't the most studious of pupils and spent most of the time just chatting to my mate about shit. Not literally shit, as in defecation, but just random stuff. Our teacher was a weak willed replacement teacher who could not control us. In fact, I think we drove her to have a mental breakdown. Anyway, back to my End of the Road romance, after saying that I wanted to learn French, I said 'Ok, can I order in French? I'm actually in love with you'. Oh yes, I remember! I hadn't even ordered my crepe by this point, she was making one for someone else! She replied 'Ah oui!'. I replied 'Great', my brain quickly popped up Will, what the fuck, you haven't given me time to prepare, you haven't spoken French in 5 years, oh shit you're saying it Bonjour, je voudrais un crepe sil vous plait', she replied asking what I want on it - I wanted butter and sugar, two words which I don't know in French... She helped me out with that. She then handed it to me and said 'Bon appetite!'. I replied 'Merci, I love you, au revoir!'. I walked off thinking ok, well that went as well as could be expected - you have a crepe and you can speak basic French, well done. Then I walked over to the guys and told them of my success, I spent the rest of the time in the eating area just looking wishfully over at the crepe girl. Which in hindsight, could be seen as creepy.
This is Pucket, it's really fun.
Here are a few nice songs - Corvette Cassette by Slow Magic
A Shell in the Pit, this guy is pretty good too.
I've been re-listening to Forest Swords lately, the EP Dagger Paths is amazing.
I had one of the weirdest dreams of my life last night. It was like a movie. The first thing I remember was sitting in a room with other people (who I don't recognise, but knew in my dream) and then being invited to sit in a row of seats in an elevated simulator device. Then the guide announced that we were part of a zombie experience and were then each given a weapon (in order to defend ourselves). My weapon was a bizarre knife thing, that was very awkward to use and kept changing size and ergonomics each time I looked at it (actually, everything shifts around in my dream, nothing stays the same for very long). Then the zombies appeared. They were a mixture of the slow moving ones from the 1960s films and the more recent 28 Days Later, fast moving ones. They attacked us where we were sitting and I knew (from experience with dealing with zombies) that only beheading would be effective. I killed one with my knife thing, but then I lost it. Somehow our simulator shifted into a train and we made a run for it down the carriage. After trying to evade them for a while on the train, I went through a door and somehow ended up at a manor house. Still lacking a weapon, I hide and then tried to escape by getting onto the roof. Unfortunately, a zombie was there waiting for me. It was like my brain was conspiring to get me killed. Desperation took hold and I had no choice but to fight the zombie with what ever I could find. I resorted to flinging roof tiles at it. I did a fair bit of damage to it, but alas did not kill it. Hmm. I have forgotten what happened next. I should have really written this down as soon as I woke up, but I got distracted and forgot. It was really vivid and my first reaction when I awoke was 'That was mental'. Zombie/apocalyptic dreams seem to be a recurring theme at the moment. Weird. I had another dream a while ago wherein I was trying to find a refuge after the apocalypse had hit the world. I was in a large horse van with my friend, driving through woodlands. I was sitting (in hindsight, rather dangerously) on top of the van and I turned around and saw another van approach. It was driven by cannibals (obviously), who wanted to kill and eat us. We started driving erratically to evade them and somehow we did. We then found the refuge and there I met my flatmates, Nick and Kat. I was concerned for the safety of my brother, and so I texted him using my new camera (which bizarrely had the ability to send texts). He was safe in Paris. I was then called to a big meeting and we all crammed ourselves in this meeting hall. I was sitting next to Kat. Another member of the meeting asked a question and Kat decided to reply using a limerick. Instead of just saying it, she decided to sing it. In front of everyone. It was weird. I then woke up and thought 'What the fuck is wrong with me?'.
I really like YouTube, it's amazing. The videos crack me up, I think I could spend at least 2 hours just watching the videos. I made some videos too but no one watches them. Well, some do (one video of mine has over 500 views).
I can't really remember when I last wrote on my blog because after looking at these amazingly funny videos, I thought Oh damn, I can write about how funny these videos are on my blog, and then rushed to my blog and started typing. I'm still typing. It's like my internal thoughts are linked to my fingers, which I guess is essentially true. Ah crap, I keep on losing my train of thought.
On Saturday I went to my friend's birthday in London. Her name is Claire and I've known her for 9 years, I met her at uni. A lot of other uni friends were there too. I had a couple of Jagerbombs, which are delicious. They are the best tasty shot things ever. Much nicer than Tequilia or those spirits. I also had a cider and some sort of vodka/apple juice mixer. That didn't taste nice. Hik and Miena bought us a huge ice filled jug which was also filled with bottles of Grey Goose vodka and numerous mixers (such as apple juice). There was a sparkling firework on the top of it too. I thought that was a nice feature. The place we went too was rather busy, uncomfortably so, and there was a weird little girl running around who tried to dance with Jez and myself. She was probably about 4ft. Like a little goblin. So her and the whole busy environment made me want to leave. Which I did. Jez, Matt and I went back to Katies and soon everyone else arrived. We sat around and Jez and I rapped about Matt eating corn from toilets. This is because of something he did while at last years End of the Road festival. He ate a lot of the corn on the cob that was sold there, and described to us, in detail, as to what it was doing to his digestive system. Suffice to say, living on exclusively a diet of corn on the cob doesn't do ones bowls any good. It was happening to me too (the corn on the cob was delicious), but I had the social grace not to chat about it. Anyway, whenever he went to the porta loo, he would come back and give us a breakdown of how the experience went. Unfortunately for Matt, Nick Harvey was there and he enjoys bullying people. Also so was Nick Ripper, Alex Hayward, Jez and myself and Katie. We went to town on him. By the end of the vocal bullying session we were calling him 'Plopchomper' and 'Corny nimbler' and asking him whether he likes to have a little nimble of the partially digested corn in the loo and whether he waits for other people to go in before he gets his fill. Haha it makes me chuckle thinking about it (us making fun of him, not him nimbling poo covered corn).
I was going to copy and paste an email I received from some girl called Adriana, but I've just skimmed through it and it's really long. I haven't counted but I'm sure that it approaches 700 words in length. That's excessive. Here's a few paragraphs...
BABE... i guess your not getting any of my email huh? ive been
tryign to email u so many times but this dam laptop is such a piece of
garbage and keeps freezing.. anyways how u been?
In case u dont know who this is its ME Adriana.. we used to chat a bit
on facebook and then I think u deleted me :( haha.. anyways guess what...
I got 2 things to tell u.. both good news.. 1) im single now.. yup me
and my bf broke up about 3 months ago... and 2) guess where im moving?
RIGHT EFFING NEAR U.. lol... ur actually the only person im gonna know
there.. well 3 cousins too but i cant chill with them lol..
I remember when we chatted u told me u thought i was cute and u wanted
to chill so now we finally can HAHA! im kinda scared to move.. im hoping
this email addy is still the one you use and u can chat with me ebfore
i get there.. maybe even help me move my shit in...are u still on facebook?
i cudnt find ui was soo confused...anyways im gonna need someone to show
me the town and take me out so u better be around bebe...
we only chatted a couple times but i remember thinking to myself i
wanted to get ot know u better when i was single..a nd i thoguth u were
cute too but cudnt tell u cause i wasnt single lol...ok so more info about
me.. well im 23.. virgo.. love the outdoors and love to socialize, go out for
drinks, restaurants, movies etc.. travel.. i have a lil kitty named
BOO and i luv her to death... uhhh oh im a super horny gurl too but
every gurl is they just wont admit it. so ilove watching p0rn and all
that.. love sex etc blah blah blah...who doesnt..
Hmm, firstly I must stress that I don't know this person (even though she appears to know me). Secondly, from the 1st line you can realise that she's a retard. i. Your. Email. She really needs to either work on her diction or at least proof read her message before she hits send. And then she blames her tardy ability to send emails on her laptop, which doesn't really seem right since even the most basic of laptops have the technology required to write emails. I guess that perhaps it may have a virus or perhaps it has no free memory (which doesn't particularly surprise me considering how much porn she claims to watch - streaming videos requires a good amount of processing power and internet bandwidth). She then goes into how I know her from Facebook (I don't) and that she thinks I deleted her (I didn't, but would have done). Considering that she thinks that I deleted her, she still goes on to try to meet up with me. In most people, if one gets deleted from another persons Facebook, then that's a strong hint that the said person doesn't like them. Yet it seems Adriana is oblivous to that, perhaps she's actually mental. Hmm. She claims that we've chatted a couple of times (we haven't), and that she's named her cat 'Boo'. That's a dumb name. So she's 23, has a crappy laptop, likes watching porn, and has a cat named Boo. Hmm but she did say I was cute, and since I'm very receptive to flattery, perhaps she's not all bad.
I think it's been about a month since I last wrote something on my blog. Since I'm the only person who actually reads it regularly (I like to laugh at my interesting life experiences), and that I don't particularly like writing a post for the stake of it, I feel that I'm justified in going long stretches of time between posts. I've just eating a huge lasagne from the work canteen (plus garlic bread) so I feel rather full up. Many people say that it's perfectly acceptable, in fact it's better for you, to stop eating when you're full, rather than just keeping on eating. I don't subscribe to that. When I have food in front of me, I have entered an obligation to eat every scrap, even if eating all of it would make me feel ill for hours after. I don't really like seeing food go to waste. I really like eating too. Fortunately, I'm rather wiry, so my eating habits don't affect my weight. I do feel sick though.
I have done quite a few things since I last wrote on the blog.
I went to see Liam and Ben's gig in London, that was really fun.
Alex and I went to the Field Day Festival. Fortunately, he didn't vomit bile and so wasn't ejected.
At Field Day Festival, I saw one of my favourite bands - Tortoise - they played this song. Please.
Went to the Comedy Store in London for Jez's birthday and then to a cocktail bar. There was a pretty girl there, well I thought she was pretty, but then she stood up and she must have been close to 7ft in height. In fact, a lot of the women there were larger than average. By that, I don't mean that they were fat, but that they were giants, and so were rather physically imposing. The music in the cocktail bar was being played at an excessively loud volume and it made me have to shout into someones ear, and visa versa. That made me uncomfortable. I don't understand why it needs to be that loud. It was one of those situations where the phrase 'I can barely hear myself think' would have been apt, and wouldn't be classed as hyperbole.
I send emails to my friend Alex every so often and he thought that the latest one was particularly funny. Since I am very receptive to flattery, I thought hey, maybe I should put it on my blog? Yeah.
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I'm going to the Field Day festival on Saturday, if you thought EotR was
trendy, Field Day makes it seem like a trainspotters appreciation
meeting. Going with Ben and the London gang, it's going to be berserk. I
would suggest that you come, but I fear that the mere thought of a
hipster wearing a grateful dead t shirt with cut off sleeves and shorts
made of organic hemp from Sudan (with a Uniqlo label), and a sparrows
nest (with birds) carefully placed on the head, with a tilt which varies
every minute depending on the fashion at the time, would make you vomit
viscous bile - which, ironically, in itself would be considered 'cool'
and so quickly adopted by the other festival goers. So the festival
would quickly become overwhelmed with bile, which boat shoes are ill
suited to resist. Presumably, the festival organisers would be aware of
how fashion works, so would quickly take down any festival goer who
deviates too much from the current fashion trend. Thus, you would be thrown out of
the festival, which you didn't particularly want to go to anyway, so
feeling frustrated and angry, you would walk to Epping Forest, where you
would adopt a simpler way of life. After a few content months of living
this way, you would happen upon a young maiden, washing her clothes by a
stream. She would also be an exile, so you would talk and rejoice in
your mutual ambivalence to modern youth culture. But one day, while
chopping wood at your self made home, you'll hear a noise. You'll think 'Oh
no, why now? WHY?!'. Your beloved will come rushing over, the wildflowers that she had been collecting spill over the ground, 'They're coming!' she whispers. She rushes inside. You look
off in the distance, opening your mouth slightly to increase your
hearing ability. You can only hear the birds and the leaves rustling in the wind. Wait. You
hear a jingle, like a dozen bracelets on one arm rubbing against each
other. You hear someone shout out 'Last one on drugs is a dickhead!'. It
is followed by cheers. You can see them, and they have seen you.
The leader says to his friends 'Oh wow, an authentic country cottage,
let's set up an impromptu party. Iona, have you got the candles?
Sideways Len, have you got the bunting? Let's get to work!'. Iona is
about to arrange a candle decoration when THUMP, an arrow pieces her
chest. She looks down at the wound. It has cleanly pieced her retro
linen cardigan, which was on sale from Topshop. She pulls out the arrow, blood spurts from the wound.
She falls and dies. Some of the others immediately rush over, 'let's
make tie dye with her blood, it'll be so cool!' they say. THUMP THUMP
THUMP. The three of them fall to the ground. You look round and see your
beloved notching another arrow, you bow your head and utter 'My lady'.
Your hand grips tightly on your axe. You go to work...
So begins the saga of Alex and hipstergedon.
To be continued...
-----
I'm going to Field Day on Saturday, it should be fun. Alex doesn't really like the whole hipster culture scene,. And tries to avoid them at all costs. I write 'all costs' but I guess that's hyperbole - if he saw a clique of them outside Tescos, and he was hungry, I'm sure he'd walk through them to get in. Or if a clique of them held his family hostage and demanded that he buy them the albums on Pitchfork's best album list, he'd probably attack and kill them, rather than run away. I don't really care about all that 'hipster' stuff, I guess I have characteristics of one anyway. Ironically, so is Alex in some ways. Though, I think the true meaning of the word is affectation. Like wearing t shirts with annoyingly loose collars. Or wearing glasses without any lenses or which lack even a modicum of visual corrective properties.
I heard a good song lately, the album hasn't been released but I have found the song on a Brazilian radio show
- it starts at 1:26. A nice summer song. There's a cool 20 minute sufi
song which I might listen too after it. I heard it on Damon Albarn's XFM
show back in 2005. I was driving home from my friend's house late at
night, and I switched on the radio and heard it. A good song.
I have no idea what they're talking about, but the music is nice. It
reminds me of Christmas. Which I guess it interesting since Christmas is
a Christian affair but the song is about Islam. They're both Abrahamic
religions, so I guess it's still appropriate. I couldn't care less about
the religious aspect of Christmas. I guess that's why I don't really
care about getting presents or getting caught up in the season.
Christmas normally works out with my family texting each other about
what presents each of us want. My mum is kind of religious, but not in a
'in your face' way, more of a 'I was brought up Christian and the
thought of death scars me' kind of way. She goes to church most weekends
and goes to a bible study group. I sense that she's disappointed that
all three of her children are either agnostic or atheists. I guess I'm
an atheist, though the word is a bit weird, I'm more apathetic when it
comes to religion - it all seems a bit silly, like unicorns and fairies. I was brought up a Christian, and I was sent to Christian
camp until the age of 13, and I went to Sunday school etc. I was never
particularly interested in it. I remember praying before I went to bed
when I was young and that I had trouble grasping how the praying process
works - did I have to say (or think) 'amen' after the prayer as a
equivalent to 'over and out' on two way radios. It all seemed a bit
silly to me. I think I stopped praying when I was 11/12, though I can't
be sure. Then I had an existential crisis at 7, when I realised that
someday my parents would die and so would I. Christian camp was a funny
place. The first few camps were quite a laugh, because we were young and
the leaders didn't force God stuff down our throats. But it got a bit
weirder in the later years. Once, they got everyone in the main hall,
and played us a video of Jesus getting executed in rather gory detail.
The nails going in etc. And they played heartfelt music in the
background. By the end, you could hear people sobbing, they were saying
'Oh, the suffering, how could they (the Romans) do that? It's awful'
etc. I was thinking 'Well, the Romans did that to a lot of people, and
they had other methods of execution which were much worse'. We then
walked out and everyone went back to their rooms. I was sitting in my
room when a leader knocked on the door and asked to speak to me. We sat
on the stairs and he asked me how I felt about the video and how I was
affected. I told him that I was obviously a bit sad after watching a
video of someone getting executed (even though it was Willem Dafoe), but
that I didn't really care about religion and that I wasn't ready to
become a bible wielding Christian. It didn't help that I considered
Jesus' execution a form of suicide, since he recognised that he had to
die in order to achieve his goals, and did everything possible to be
captured and to infuriate the Jewish council, who would invariably call
for his death. I guess that's the whole sacrifice part of it though.
Another
funny incident was when they led us into the main hall again and
sexually abused all of us in turn, the girls first, then the boys - they
played Gary Glitter's My Gang in the background. Hahahaha, that didn't
happen. That would have been pretty horrific if it did, and I'd probably
blank it from my memory, so perhaps it did? Haha, I'm sure it didn't.
What I was going to write was: they led us in the main hall for the
evening prayer and since it was one of the last days before we went
home, they made it a bit more fancy. They made us stand for a while, and
the camp leader said to us 'Now we're going to pray, if you don't want
to be here, please don't feel like you have to'. So, everyone is there,
standing still, listening to hymns, praying, crying. My brother turned
around and shouted 'Screw this' and walked out. I stood still for an
instance then followed. When we got outside, I turned around and saw a
large number of people also leaving. We had started a walk out. My
friend stayed in the hall because that they were giving out wine for
people who stayed.
I can't remember if I've written about that before.
