Timber!

What comes to mind when you read or hear the word: timber? Is that the correct use of a colon? I dunno! Anyhoo timber conjures up a scene featuring at least one collapsing tree. The buzz of a chainsaw, the repetitive rhythm of the sharpened head of an axe striking wood, creaks and snaps as the lumber slowly yields followed by a rush and thud! Or maybe you think of a guy who is about 40, jumping up and down in suit, declaring willy nilly that he is "Mr. Worldwide"?

If you do then I'd recommend you take a long hard look at your life. Back to timber! So there is a large tree that stands proudly at the front of my familial home in the UK. I feel the need to specify as my family is spread liberally all over the world. Here's a handy list of countries containing my kinsman: Australia, Sri Lanka, India, Dubai, France, Switzerland, Denmark, USA and I'm sure there's more but I don't really keep abreast with the movements of my fam. I really can't get away with using that particular contraction, at least now we know.

It's the christmas tree looking mofo in front of the house! Also click to enlarge photo and see things in uber megapixelness.

As you can see it was eclipsing the house and the roots were encroaching on the foundation. There is only one answer, move the house. But we are not at a level of technology where such things are so easily doable. Houses are such a weird idea. I'd like to return to the same place for the conceivable future guess I'd better build/buy somewhere. We used to be travelling tribes, nomads. When we ceased being nomads we all went crazy...get it?

How honest Abe does it.

So instead we hired tree surgeons to slash up the tree. The fella said they'd be there after dinner. For me that means anytime after 13:00. It rolls around to 15:00 and I'm thinking they are not gonna show. 16:00 and they arrive. I'm thinking this is going to take at least a few hours. It's far too big to do the classic felling method. I thought they'd climb up top, cut away the branches and then cut sections. I was close but not cigar.

They one dude slowly scaling the tree, methodically cutting all the branches as he goes. He's armed with a petrol chainsaw. I've got a chainsaw and it looks like a toy compare to this thing. He's it makes short work of everything. As he's tearing up the tree he pauses shouts to his partner, he's chucking the wood into a wood chipper. He deftly drops a nest into the outstretched hands of the man on the ground. Turns out there were two wood pigeon chicks in it! They are placed carefully in a nearby shrub/bush. When does a bush become a shrub or vice versa?

Branches all done, nest expertly dealt with, onwards to the trunk. The thick bit in the middle is despatched with the same ruthless efficiency that the branches were. As the heavy sections of wood hit the ground the vibrations travel through the house. Oh and there was a number of bystanders staring in slack jawed awe. Start to finish how long do you think it too to take the tree apart? Leaving a six foot stump.

Before and after or after and before. Depending on how you view time...

So do you have a number of minutes, seconds, hours for the job? Well it took 30 minutes. I was severely amazed! If you need any sort of tree surgery, landscaping or hedge laying then they're called Simpson Arboriculture based out of Ancaster.

Pretty adorable right?

Not the end of this particular story. This is them just after all was chopped and chipped. Just chilling being infants. I got all snap happy, I know it's really not like me, and took lots of pics. They have a doting parent/s, I can't tell the difference. It may be one pigeon or two. This bird went mental looking for these two for the rest of the day. Flying, walking, making the hooting noise pigeons do. I was amping myself up to take the baby birds under my wing. I'd even done a brisk google search on what the fudge to feed them.

A few hours later I noticed that one of them had fallen from the nest and was awkwardly wedged in the foliage. I was unsure of what to do, if anything. At this point it was unclear if the parent bird would locate the chicks or if I would have to surrogate. By touching the baby bird I could leave my man stench all over it making the parent fearful. Fearful that it's sweet baby had morphed into a bearded, burly man child. My pops arrives an instructs me to cease being such a jessie and put the bird back in it's nest. As I do so I come into contact with a level of softness that is reserved for baby birds. Placing the bird back in the nest was easy, it's sibling seemed dubious about it's return.

The next morning dadatron spots the parent with the nest, looks like I won't be needed to take the role of surrogate pigeon mother. As the days pass I glance them from time to time as I walk past their nest. They sit and silently stare back. My mother did a spot of digging and they sat eagerly staring at the new activity unfolding beneath them.

About a week after their big move

So now they've flown the nest! Only a week and one day since they were moved. Bye bye little dudes. It was awesome to have met you and indelicately replaced one of you back in the nest. May you go forth and be the best pigeons you can be...

Suits, the Doctor and a walk up the hill with a shrill cow...

This was all supposed to go down on the 15th but in classic last minute presto chango tradition Mark Taylor changed it to the 23rd. The beginning of series 8 of Dr Who was not influenced by the fickle heart of a man from Barnsley. And contrary to popular belief he is a man....who loves milk.

So I get there around 4ish and have a bit of a mare parking, I never learnt to parallel park. Nailed it first time round so my instructor thought "He's a natural!" But it was a series of flukes and I suck at parallel parking. I bought way too much protein and as it turns out way too much alcohol. Ah here's where I met Dan, an old friend of Swapnal's from his days as a bad student man in Leicester. I assume he's moved into the converted church hall but nope he just lives close.

Stepping outside to get food from Coop we realise it's raining. Barely rain, fine rain soaks you through, if you get that reference I may marry you! It's warm and the rain is barely there so it's dubbed Caribbean. Waiting for my fellow craftsman to finish up a smoke I point out where I first struck a stationary object with a large refrigerated object. Lincoln you hold so many ridiculous dairy memories. Wandering around the Coop I am feeling the urge to purchase unnecessary tat e.g. sponges, pastries and sandwich fillings. It's around now I am informed of the half bottle of Disaronno that'll be on it's way to the party. I've purchased another bottle, almondy! Also Dan is a programmer, a mysterious art that I am curious about but have never delved deeply into.

So it's naturally time to bang on Suits season 3, old news but still well worth watching. Charles is on the couch and excited about the impending formally attired awesome. There is the fall out from the end of season 2 and things settle down, sort of. I do notice that things are ever so silent, you know like when you are in a theatre/cinema. You feel that you have to be quiet. Ah the aha moment! It's what House was all about, something seemingly run of the mill sparking an inspired moment of genius. Whilst watching Suits I consume most of a tin of pringles, 25 wings, 2 scotch eggs and an unspecified quantity of beer. Ooh the Suits drinking game! Oh and Suit spoilers if you aren't up to speed, nothing mind blowing just little bits n bobs.

Rules for aforementioned game are nicked verbatim from here.

Drink if:
1.) Someone holds an intense conversation in the hallway.
2.) Mike interrupts Rachel in her office and asks “Do you have a sec?” or “Are you busy?” then proceeds to ask her help anyway.
3.) Mike goes behind Harvey’s back, despite Harvey specifically saying not to.
4.) Mike or Harvey has a case-winning epiphany (Pro-tip: This usually involves something that was brought-up at the start of the episode).
5.) Someone references a pop-culture event/character.
6.) Harvey and Jessica engage in light flirting.
7.) Harvey and Louis/Mike engage in light bromance.
8.) Mike and Rachel engage in light flirting. But still no sex.
9.) Jessica asserts her “Queen Bee” image. (Pro-tip: Comes with a reference to her name “being on the company logo”)
10.) Louis becomes the antagonist.
11.) Louis redeems himself and becomes morally ambiguous once again.
12.) Someone bribes Donna.

Drink TWICE/ Finish a full glass when:
1.) Plot reveals Pearson-Hardman is in trouble.Again.
2.) Plot reveals Mike’s secret is in danger of being exposed. Again.
3.) Someone in your drinking group points out that Daniel Hardman is actually Gale from Breaking Bad. 
4.) Someone in your drinking group tries to sing the incomprehensible opening song
5.) Michael Jordan’s name is mentioned.
7.) Louis’ gold-trimmed nail-cutter comes up.
8.) Mike screws up his relationship with Rachel (despite it being in the bag).
9.) Mike smokes a doobie.
10.) The can-opener is shown.

Finish the whole bottle when:
1.) Mike and Ross finally have sex.
2.) Donna and Harvey have sex.
3.) Jessica and Harvey kiss.
4.) Someone socks Louis in the jaw.

We added when Louis is Louis or if he whips out his dictaphone. There is a strong, black woman playing a Judge, I lean in and enquire if the acctress is the same one who played Aunt Viv in the fresh prince. It's not her, when they cut to a scene in the Judge's chambers it's not even close! Then there's a fellow who plays Robert Zane, Charles tells us he was Bunk in the Wire. Swapnal was about to tell me he was in Fresh Prince, because you know...I'm racist.

Now comes the long awaited debut of Capaldi as the Doctor! I'm expecting darkness etc. Basically Malcolm Tucker in slightly different clothes. It was surprising. If you haven't seen it then spoilers below, look for the red writing to show you where they end. He's confused, fair enough he's just regenerated. He rants furiously and speaks about his attack eyebrows!

Attack eyebrows!

Drax hits Clara in the face with the paper! Lesbian kiss, didn't even realise it was a big deal till the complaints rained in. Guess I'm not so prejudiced when it comes to sexuality. The feels moment when Matt Smith's Doctor calls Clara and Capaldi gets uber emotional. It's pretty damn emotional. Then there's the mystery that is Missy! I initially thought it was the master, Dan suggested it could be the Rani. My favourite theory is that she is all the Claras coalescing into one being.

So the time is here for us to journey up the hill. I'm not feeling phased as I fear no terrain! But I really dislike the hill. Oh and I've got a shrill cow for Mark. So we arrive at Mark's gated flat, there's a gate code etc. And we walk up to the first floor and knock commandingly on the door. The lights are off and it's oddly silent. Not what you'd expect for a party. Scratch that, not what you'd expect if Mark Taylor is anywhere in the vicinity. Turns out it was the wrong door so we scarper up the stairs to the flat with the door wide open. Yep security not one of Tintin's strong suits along with diplomacy, subtlety, boundaries or short order cooking. Did you know a man once burst through his back door whilst he was on all fours cleaning the oven in his pants? No...well you do now! As we enter, beer pong is in session and we realise that the party is almost exclusively being attended by those of the XY persuasion. In other words sausages a plenty. Probably something to do with Mark's milkshake.

Mark does some quick introductions but he's not so sure about the name of the only lass in attendance, Karina? So I implore him to sound off and see if she responds, she does! But instead of shrugging it off as nothing Mark explains in great detail why he was calling her name for no apparent reason. No secret! And that's why we all love him.

Swap convinces Dan to have a beer, one beer can't hurt right? Dan swiftly progresses to sipping neat chilli vodka from a mug, as you do. Oh yes we are incorporating the scorchingly hot concoction into the beer pong. Mark brings out some solid steel shot glasses and two hip flasks, a gift from his darling mother. The progress is a little hazy but I bust out some hot pringles as I'm not feeling the buzz anymore. It's always been a bit of an uphill battle getting inebriated to a comfortable level, so I'm casually drinking a mug full of Disaronno, as you do. Then everyone retires to the balcony for a schmoke, I was there for the pancakes but alas there was no room for pancakes. I think the space out there was meant for two, perhaps three, we had eight out there. The floor is rubberised which Nathan declares is a rubber solstice. The awesomely name Dominic Darnell, double D, asks me what I do. Well in all honestly I never really did a whole lot so I explain how I used to be an occasional milk man and GDB.

At this point Swap asks me if I'm eager to hit the clubs, I am not as I'm old and weary. So we draw up a plan to head back to Eastbourne Street, drink beer and watch suits. This plan is quickly abandoned. Why? I have no idea but I love to dance so why not! Mark quickly makes out with the shrill cow and it's time to make our way to the club. Which club is still up open for discussion. I fill a hip flask with almondy goodness and crack open an ale. Upon exiting the flat Dan tells us of how he can find his way home but he's useless at giving directions in Lincoln. I declare that he is much like a homing pigeon in the respect.

We walk downhill, it is not I rediscover how steep the hill can be. On the way up you don't see it, you feel it for shizzle, on the way down you see the steepness. I think there was a pause to extract cloth from a machine. During which I open the hip flask and start sipping, I really feel like a bit of a closet alcoholic. Not at all giddy etc. Mark is trying to banter a deal with a geezer to get us in for free. Birthdays, hen and stag dos etc get in for free. In the queue some lad behind us is extracted and ejected. Why? I do not know. I have a hip flask in my pocket and it's ever so obvious. Upon entering Swap disappears and reappears drink in hand, he's exhibiting a level of craftiness rarely seen outside of ACUK HQ.

Standing around having a bit of a mine as a mate of mine would say. I always thought it meant to move camply around. But apparently it's a southern phrase for wasting time, I think. And there's Hannah! Now I knew she was bar-tending, waitressing, promoting a club in a Lincoln but I didn't know which one. I'm being too cool for school and not saying hi, actually it's mostly because it's loud in clubs and I've never had a meaningful conversation in one. Ever. I think we get drinks and head upstairs. This is where we lose Dom, Alex, Nathan, Mark and Ian. Leaving me, Swap and Dan. We wander around the main dance floor searching, looking rather gormless. Swapnal doesn't do gormless he's permanently set to smoulder.



It's all about looking around.

We decide to cut our losses and hit the dance floor. It's hot, I have a hoodie on...MISTAKE!!!! And then I spot Gavin! For those who don't know Gavin is a kick as guitarist in a band by the name of Borders, he's the one with the mohawk. They've got a music vid too, clicky to see, hear and be awoken. Not easy listening before bed probs great running music, you have been warned. As is my way I take photos. At this point some lasses get involved because girls love cameras? I dunno. Dan pulls a tried and tested "let's get one with just the two of you" #crafty.

At some point we head downstairs and find Nathan! Jaegerbombs. Then the order of things gets a little fuzzy. I think I found my long lost kinsman Simon Foster, he's as tall as they come hence why I could pick him out in the crowd. My first memory of him is at a whole school photo. Arranged by height me and Si are tallest in our year. He kept growing, I stopped at a very average 5ft 11 but I was that height aged 12! We have a meaningless conversation, get an old man to take our picture and head upstairs to grab a drink. Meaningless in the sense I can not hear a damn thing he's saying and vice versa. Upon getting to the bar upstairs I discover Mark et al. I immediately inform Si that I must retrieve my bondsman from the main dance floor before the mythical Mark Taylor takes flight. Upon my return I see he's ingratiated himself with a hen party, the guy is all kinds of awesome. I glance away and he disappears, no mean feat for a man so tall.

Mark is having a chat with a random, standard. Walking downstairs to get outside for a bit of fresh air I am encouraged to jump into the fray. By which I mean an unknown young an assumed because of my general bulk I would want to get involved in an altercation of the physical nature. I am in no mood so give him my most convincing nice guy face edged with a hint of  "say what again!" He backs off.

Then come the smoulders! Mark wants to smoulder so Swapnal assumes the role of smoulder master. The first attempt was pretty good. Then Dan has to get in on the action, he reverses the smoulder. Directionally speaking. Dominic inquires if I've played wind waker, I should explain I am wearing the king of geek t shirts. Aptly named the "geeky hallows"

Can you name all the fandoms there within?

Just for Eleanor we've got Gandalfs staff - top left, next to the master sword from Zelda, a lightsaber - top right, the 11th Doctors sonic screw driver - bottom left, generic wand from Harry Potter - bottom right, the inscription from the one ring from Lord of the Rings in the middle and it all add up to the sign for the Deathly Hallows. Back to Dominic's question and no I haven't played Wind Waker. He's outraged! How can I wear such a shirt!?!? I calmly reassure him that I've had a crack at the Ocarina or Time and Twilight Princess. He chills and chats to Dan about Wind Waker.

Oh and then we're back on the main dance floor. Now I am tired, physically. Quads cramping, feet aching a little and obliques spazzing out. Not ideal for dancing but any excuse :D. So at this point Dan disappears. Turns out he's headed home, like a pigeon. On the dancefloor it's a little crowded and a fight or two kick off. To our credit we steer well clear and then something peculiar happened. A girl in a light pastel blue top stands walks up to me an stops about an inch away. Doesn't look at me, doesn't say anything just stops and stands there. I look around to see if anyone has any idea what is occurring. They don't so I wait and sure enough as suddenly as she arrived she departs.

03:00 rolls around and we head to McDonalds. Nathan bails at Guildhall street. Getting to McDonalds is half the battle now we must queue. I order the casual Big Mac and 4 double cheese burgers. I really need a wee as does Mark. But alas they've cordoned off the toilets, wise move as at 03:00 there's no telling what kind of shenanigans would occur there within. I am pacing and show Ian how you can expand the wax sauce cups so you can carry more sauce. He's not impressed he retorts with "why not just get more cups?" I have no idea I don't even want sauce! I now realise Mark has disappeared, he slipped through the blockade, three cones and something akin to a seatbelt. I have no idea what it's called. It's retractable an you can clip it...anyway. On his return I leg it up the stairs, there's music on in the bathrooms making it somewhat eerie.

Waiting for the big mac...it take forever. And Mark nearly kicks off with a lovely fellow customer. He comments with something along the lines of "Most people are brought up, some are dragged up!" Anyhoo the big mac arrives, or le big mac if your in Europe. We are heading back to Marks to drink an be merry, change of plan we a splitting up an heading to bed as it's late. Mark has my beer, unlikely it'll still be there next time. Whenever that is.

Walking back to Eastbourne Street is a familiar journey. I feel a giddy wave of nostalgia, the most powerful of dragons. No one will get that! Upon arriving a realise I've still got Mark's hipflask. Now Swapnal has Mark's hipflask. Swap bangs on Bojack Horseman, he explains he's a horse who's and actor etc. It's good you should watch it. Then we go to bed, separate beds this time. Not like the first time or like earlier this year. They are lengthy but cover two excellent nights. One on the town the other in a converted church/bachelor pad/dreamatorium.

Upon arising I shower and head upstairs. Suits marathon continues. Breakfast is being discussed and I eat two scotch eggs. I have purchased a plain pizza and german lunchmeat to place upon it. It's good! I depart shortly thereafter and head home. I am about to sit down and rest my aching bones when my dear old dad asks me to aid him in painting the bathroom. I am a "nice" guy so I can't say no. And that ladies and gentlemen is that.

Pt 4: My right leg AND my left leg, well let's just say it's my legs in general!

The final installment! Only a year after the incident that kicked it all off. I'd forgotten all about this. Here are links to the  previous 3: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3. This covers October 2013 so somewhat historical.

Click for some whimsical music creating a sense of nostalgia...you know like a flashback...

So this will cover my physio blitz + the time I spent in hospital. I'll kick off with the wind up to leaving the place. The night before I felt a little fear about going home, I'd grown accustomed to my surroundings. At least that's what I initially thought. But then the day rolls round and I pack up all my stuff, a depressing chore at the best of times!

I slowly realise that as accustomed to the routine as I've become that's not why I'm so down. It's the people! It's always the people I fall for and will miss. A lovely lot who intuitively know just how to play your situation. If you're being whiny, upbeat, silent, shuffling etc. they deal with you in a manner I can only describe as unflappable. That's right boys and girls they can not be flapped! Now this is a reference to my all time favourite comedy sitcom...anyone hazard a guess as to what it is? If you can get the sitcom and who I was paraphrasing the flapping thing from I'll pop the question on the spot.

So that's my weekly threat of marriage out the way onwards! I get full range of motion back in my right foot! But lefty is now lagging. For those of you who read parts 1, 2 and 3 you'll know that righty was the lagger and lefty took the lead. Seems things have switched around. Dawn shows me a little trick to try and get my muscles firing. Basically tapping/squeezing the muscle in time with the contraction to try and get a bit more juice out of it. I'm also given one of these:

wobble/balance cushion

It seems my core stability isn't that great. I trained my abs to the point of being able to take a hit from pretty much anyone. But core...I was lazy for sure and now I'm paying in sweat + effort. The cushion acts like a swiss ball and challenges you to balance on it. I've been given a load more core exercises to do and I am rather surprised by how little I am able to do!

So progress I ask Sam, one of the physios, if I can get the wheels off my zimmer and switch them for feet. He gives a bit of a quizzical look and asks why? I thought having feet instead of wheels meant progress. It is infact the other way round. If you think about it we've got feet, if we were to evolve wheels then it'd be a "step" in the right direction. Anyway he says fine and attaches the feet, takes some getting use to. What I notice is that because this frame doesn't just roll along I have to think about each step. Sounds rather simple right but by forcibly slowing myself down gives me a chance to look at each step instead of just rolling from A to B.

One other thing to add about physios they can find your weakness and give you an exercise that they know you just can't do! Man if only I had that understanding of the mechanics of movements...I'd likely bastardised it serve my dark purpose, WORLD DOMINATION!!!

So as the days progress I more or less get into a routine. Its a bit like I've resigned my self to the fact that I'll be here for the long haul.So I'm a little surprised when I'm told that my surgeon thinks I should think about heading home. Not shocked but a little confused, probs because there was no indication. I'm now not so sure about going home...fear? I don't know tbh it all feels a little fast, change eh? I know this is a muddle but that's pretty much how I felt, confused. I wanted to be back to "normal" asap but then again I didn't want to have expectations. When they aren't realised you get the whole disappointment blah blah but on the other hand I don't work well without deadlines! It's a bunch of contradictions that appear to add up to me making this face

So I sit around and inform my gene donors of the situations. The paternal one is surprised but maternal is...maternal. And that pretty much sums up their reactions. Mum's happy dad is dad. Not the most refreshing of ideas that my parents reacted in a way that I was totally expecting.

Onwards! The physios get my on crutches, I don't like them. They are no where near as easy as the frame, turns out I am a bit of a lazy tosser :-P. They also give me to have a go on their training stairs! Three stairs to get the technique of how to go up and down stairs whilst holding both crutches in one hand!!! Yep it sounds dangerous but it's both measured and completely logical. Admittedly the reason for the tech was not imparted to me but upon some reflection, yep my favourite pastime, I realise it's about centre of gravity. Weight transfer my old friend that'll allow even the tiniest of you to pack a KO punch is the reason behind the routine for stairs. Google it there are loads of useless youtube vids :D

I say they're useless because all of them go over how to ascend and descend stairs if you have a non weight bearing injury. I have a nervous system issue that means I have left side weakness. So I can use me left leg but not as well as the right, for the time being. My uber memory comes in handy as I'd read a leaflet on the matter.

Progress was slow and I got used to walking with crutches and started attending the local physio clinic, Laundon house. They are all kinds of awesome! Really patient and they even did some acupuncture. They also discovered the knots of muscle in my back that resemble walnut sized rocks. Then I got behind the wheel! Not as exciting you think I reversed the car in the drive, left foot is strong enough to operate pedals.

I go on to walk with one crutch and then I'm given a stick. Eventually I don't need any assistance and I am able to run again. Something I discovered whilst rushing to answer the phone. I have become way more aware of my pelvis, yep you did just read that. The angle etc. Since making reasonable recovery I've lapsed on physio several times only to be reminded why I was prescribed the exercises. My core gets all unstable an things start aching. I can do pushups again! My left leg still has numbness below the knee. Something I'll likely have to live with for the rest of my life, but I've got full sensation so no need to fret.

And that's pretty much where I am. Oh you'd think that being paralysed from the waist down for a while would change you profoundly. Perhaps it has and I haven't noticed it yet, not always the fastest on the uptake.

My signature knee callus

And here's what you all came here to see my muscular thick thighs having lost all their mass only to return a year later!

Re-done dance E

Anyone? Just me? ok...

So films, many films. I've been camping in the cinema with my bro. Godzilla, Maleficient, 22 Jump Street, X men days of future past, Chef, Transformers, Days of Future past, Rise of the Planet of the Apes... I'm sure there is at least one I've missed.

I was thoroughly won over by the fellow who plays Mrs. Brown. But yet to pencil in a day to go see the thing. Come to the conclusion the universe is conspiring against me, well when it comes to one thing. HMRC are giving me a refund! Not a life changing reimbursement but it's always nice to get something back :-D

Time is running out, or so I feel.

So Transformers! It wasn't so bad. My only criticism is that there was too much time spent on the people. More optimus and bee less whiny human bs please. And the female lead was the whiniest damsel in distress. Also action films are better when viewed closer, my bladder betrayed me and I bailed just before the final fight. Upon returning to the screen I watched from the front, instead of my usual perch at the back. It was SOOOOO much better.

THE VULCAN! For those not savvy it's a huge...and was the highlight of the day by a country mile. What is a country mile? Different to a regular mile, does anyone know

On the way back home I was umming and ahhing about whether to take a detour and thus dodge the Waddington Air Show. Decided to plough through the middle of it. And as we were ploughing we glance over to see what the people on stepladders were gawping at. It was an enormous one jet taking off. Yep this beast with it's engines at the end of their operational life was witnessed by two guys who were on their way home. Spectacular! Seeing the thing bank was unreal, something so massive going so fast...it was truly mind bottling.

Plugged the old cam in to review the pics and found some right old gems. So pants!

Under Armour

Been experiencing some chaffing subsequent to my return to the realm or training. My ass is quite literally a wad of cookie dough. Any get the reference? Anyhow I begin my quest to become carved out of wood yet again. I'm up to 106kg from 86kg, 4kg of which is on account of being lazy and the remaining 16kg piled on whilst after injury the put me on my ass for five weeks. But it's near enough been a year so time to put my behind in the past and get my ass in gear.

So pants! Yep Lycra uber pants come with quite the tagline "You'll never wear regular underwear again." or "Numquam iterum uti regularis indusiar" for the latin speakers out there. They are by far the best pants I've ever worn.

Can you put a name to this face?

At least he second small crawling white worm thing I've found on my carpet. It's not a regular occurrence mind you. No idea what it is or where it's come from. My best guess that it is in fact a brainslug. Anyone get the reference? Or maybe it's a babelfish! If I find another I'll pop it in someone's ear and start speaking in my somewhat obscure mother tongue, Tamil. Recently featured on Mock The Week! I've been lazy but he does burst into the language of my forefathers at some point during episode five series 13 :-D

That's Bubba Sparx with his one hit UGLY, I recently noticed an obscure reference to Timbaland you know the guy who produces many things and has quite a successful solo career. You can see him being awesome here with JT:

And I've just found a work around for embedding youtube videos on blogger! Yep that's what makes me super, duper happy :-D.

And wandering around the interweb I came across something called WebCanvas. See some of it here. Massive anyone can draw on it thing. Not quite figured out the coordinate system. Is it geographic, arbitrary based on a starting point. There's a word...datum? Gah my engineer/mathmatician side is so out of shape these days. Also I love doodles :-D

So I saw Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, shortly after seeing rise of the planet of the apes. I was a little underwhelmed as Rise was much better in my opinion. ***SPOILER ALERT*** But then again there was an obvious happy ending in Rise, the apes make a getaway to the forest. Dawn was a much more complex beast. It's easy to blame humanity, they caused the plague that only 1 in 500 are immune to and it creates the super smart apes. The strange thing is that there is a buttload of apes in this film, set ten years after Rise. Or at least ten winters as the wise orangutan Maurice tells us. He may be my favorite character, he teaches the kids and makes amazing guttural noises.

You'd think that it'd be man vs ape but there are factions within the humans and apes. Those who would go to war and those who want peace. Ultimately it's all kicked off by Koba shooting Caesar, he blames it on the humans and the apes go to war. So rooting against Koba right? But he's seen the worst of humanity, he was experimented on and carries numerous scars as testament. Caesar was raised by the wonderful James Franco and lives believing in peace. So circumstance made them who they are. ***SPOILERS OVER***

There are some truly wonderful moments in the film and it's well worth seeing but make sure you see the first one beforehand. Get's you up to speed and gets you attached to Caesar as a character, you see him grow up.

That's the goop I put in my hair to make it borderline presentable. I bought that tub in April 2013 and it ran out in April 2014, so it lasts.

It's been a while!

MRDWC YO!!!

I didn't even know this was happening until two days before when LRT shared a link for it! And that meant that the next three days were pretty much booked with me staring in awe at men in lycra. No different from my usual weekend programme I hear you cry!

But alas Sunday was my first day as a temp for interflora. A job I approached with much trepidation as I had been an operative in the fiery pits of a call centre before. My first day was an intense learning experience, not what I expected. I was expecting to be put on a phone and told to get on with it. As it turns out the sink or swim atmosphere of my previous place of work has made all other office based occupations appear tame by comparison.

But all was not lost I would be home in time for the final at 19:00! I was yet to see a truly close bout in the tournie so was hanging my hopes on the final for such an occurrence. I get home at 18:15 and load up the results page hoping to see who was in the final. I am greeted with an update stating that three bouts had been brought forward by two hours and the final was now at 17:00. I was utterly bereft, for about 20 seconds. Then I saw that there were some ridiculously close bouts to watch! So I've got some bouts in the bank to help me pass the time! Oh and as always my nod to SDRG for introducing me to roller derby! And here's some of my thoughts on some bouts I saw on 2013!

The group of people I was trained with at Interflora: Ben, Ruth, Dan, Gina, Ellie, Carol, Alison, Mark, Hannah and I am ever so sorry I've forgotten the last girls name! If she's reading this and feels wronged please feel free to contact me and I'll sort you out with a cookie :-D Yet to be taken up on my cookie offers, makes me think people are wary of burly men bearing baked goods

So chocolate everywhere. Sounds like a dream right?

I get home and decide I'd like join two separate pieces of chocolate together. How would you achieve this? I've come up with two options:

1. You could place the two pieces next so that they are touching. And then heat some more chocolate and either spread or pipe the liquid choc onto the join.

2. You could place the two pieces next so that they are touching and then apply heat directly so that they melt and merge together.

I went for option two and was rather impressed with the results.  Here's how I ended up with melted chocolate on my hands, face, clothes and kitchen. I pick up the still mostly melted piece of chocolate with my right hand and it immediately starts to lose structural integrity.

In my haste to correct my mistake my left hand comes into play impacting the falling half and sending it flying towards the ceiling. My right hand, which is holding the other half, is the only limb close enough to prevent chocolate impacting the ceiling. I throw this half from right to left and reach for the ceiling bound half. I'm too slow and only manage to deflect it towards the microwave. And that ladies and gentlemen is a great example of why more haste does not necessarily result in more speed.

And this was in March! Now to May :-O What happened to April? Well the insane world of shift work 15 minutes away from my house started coupled with my woefully inadequate preparations for an exam. Oh and I got hammered and my mum saw me :-S not ideal. But then again that's what I get for living at home. Time to fly the nest, again. I'll leave for good one of these days. When I figure out what it is that sets me ablaze.

So today was the day of my CIMA exam, believe it or not its the third time I've sat this bugger. It's not that the exam is difficult or that I'm particularly dense. I leave the mystery of why I haven't passed this one yet to you dear reader, whoever you may be. Up bright and early and look up the route from the train station to the exam venue. I decide to plonk myself in a cafe and study my socks off. I actually do much reading on the train, followed by an hours kip. Man I sure do love train sleep! I also love mid afternoon sleep. Not a fan of proper sleep thought. I wonder why!?

Anyhow upon arrival I walk to the first cafe, a ginormous starbucks, nay nay I say. Onwards to a nice little Nero, not feeling this one either as I amble past more pretentious little cafes I decide to buy a massive bottle of water from Tesco and set up camp outside the exam venue. I read through key areas and make notes, test myself and generally look busy so the people entering the building will leave me alone. I am extremely sociable but I wanted to focus so no chitchat! Problem is I have a friendly face and "kind" eyes, wtf does that mean? I'll take a compliment where I can get one but doesn't everyone have kind eyes? Not one but two separate folk strike up conversations with me I play nice before burying my face in notes. The best of the two was a young man who asked me "what are you doing?" by which he meant what paper are you sitting. I was eating a salad, at the time, whilst quaffing an energy drink, more on that later, so I was thoroughly confused about his question about what I was doing. Surely it's evident that I am eating vegetables! I do however twig what he's on about.

So the time to sign in has come, involves walking up with a printed out admission thing and a photo ID. Neither lady can say my name at the desk so we have a bit of banter about my exotic name and I go back to my brooding seat. So everyone's signed in and they ask us all to assemble so they can give us the exam spiel: Not phones, no paper, no leaving within the first hour of the exam etc. I down the half can of monster and swig some water to keep my hydrated. And I sit down and begin reading the paper, we are allowed 20 minutes reading time. I am overjoyed the paper has been crafted with things I can do! Analysis, pensions, substance over form, basic consolidation and a cashflow statement! About 15 minutes in I am yanked from my joy cloud by the building pressure in my bladder, it is demanding to be voided. I quash the urge and decide to go after reading time is over. They instruct us to begin and I shoot my hand up. I am kindly informed that I can't leave the room for one hour after the exam has started!

So here's my quandary, I have a paper that is eminently passable yet all my energy and attention is being drained by my overly full bladder. Gah! So I plough on with a basic analysis question. Having completed it I look up and see that only 10 minutes have passed! Head down I am determined to make a go of all the questions before looking back up at the time. This too comes to pass and only 40 minutes have passed. I feel hot, I can hear my heartbeat in my ears and my breathing is shallow. Someone sneezes causing me to flinch! Enough's enough I stick my hand up and this time I'm informed that if I can't hold it then I can go but only if it's definitely an emergency. It wasn't an emergency but they let me go and return.

Worked till the last minute on that paper. I usually finish ages ahead of time and twiddle my thumbs whilst cracking my knuckles. So the moral of the story? Always go to the bathroom before an exam,

Secrets...

Likely to be a post I don't publicise. I wonder how many will discover it? My money's on one, Highlander style...there can be only 1. Or Lord of the Rings style.

This is a thought process that has lead me to believe that it's all smoke and mirrors, illusions. Anyone read Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah? If you ask nicely I may lend/send you a copy. Lots of layered illusion to overcome. A nice and easy one is where we walk. On footpaths right? But why? Because that's what we are supposed to to, also they are safe and usually free of vehicles.

So the nub of this is the illusion of self. I had that nagging fear about death that wrote about back here. I seems to have gone now that I've come to this idea/working theory/something I don't know how to classify. Self a collection of tendencies based on previous experiences. But what is self is constantly changing. Cells are born, grow old and are replaced. What was "your" skin today is dust tomorrow. What was your dinner today becomes your flesh, blood and bone tomorrow. Maybe not that quickly but you get the gist right?

So the body is constantly being renewed so it is not constant. Once you grow up you have a basic frame that you consider yourself. It may get a little wider, narrower, firmer, saggier, greyer etc. but as it's constantly being renewed it's not the same. It may appear the same but it is not the same. Had a shot of rum in my vanilla chai so this may be the slightly tipsy ravings of a borderline narcissist.

So body is not constant, so what about conciousness? That's stored in the mind, right? Staying relatively scientific as the esoteric/mystical mumbo jumbo is too soothing. Solace, something that is nice but something intellect won't allow to remain in place for too long. If the very basis of conciousness is being renewed/rebuilt regularly then is this a continuity? Or a series of snapshots stitched together using the faculty of memory? Take 20 photos of any moving object per second for ten seconds and then run through them at a rate of 20 photos per second and the image will appear to move.

Does that make sense to anyone or am I really barking up the wrong bush

My fear of death appearing to be gone. Well I think that's because I don't really exist at all. Much like a record of events my mind has recorded everything that has happened around me to date. This record is maintained and accessed when faced with new situations day to day. So what is there that's "me". Broken down and rebuilt constantly. A copy, of a copy, of a copy.

I thought the truth about life, would be bigger, hit harder, maybe this isn't it or all of it. Perhaps a small portion. Hmmm. I don't know!

The 1st day of March, again...

The more observant amongst you may have experienced a sense of dejavu upon reading the title. Well That's because the first day of March rolls around every year :-P And I was in Lincoln hanging at Eastbourne Street with some rather fabulous peeps! If you want to see the original then clicky and read, it's one of my favourites!

So I'll do my best to run down the night as it happened. The problem is that my usually crystal clear memory has become clouded...I blame Unicum. It kicks like this guy.

What's not to like?

Don't let the sweetly smiling lady fool you that stuff is possibly the worst liqueur...in the world. It has to be watered down by a factor of 100 I reckon. But I think its been well and truly retired after triggering visceral reactions neat and uncontrollable grimacing when mixed.

So my clouded mind aside the day began with a trip to Lincoln around 12:00. I headed to Yarborough leisure centre to be instructed in the mysterious ways of the Roller Derby NSO. Powerpoint + roller derby means I am pretty much enjoying myself to the max. So after the workshop there's some time so I go off and read some behavioural science mumbo jumbo. I wander back and lean against a wall in the hall reading. One of the bombers tries to engage me in conversation, nips, unprepared I may have flashed a snarl. It's my default setting from my years as a bad man backstreet brawler or maybe it's from my years as a rugby player. Nah come to think of it it's probably from the 2-3 years I spent being trained in classical and jazz dance. I've said too much...

So in my confusion I am way to curt, note to self be nicer. I am handed a clipboard and placed in the centre of the track. A perspective I have never seen before and it feels a little odd to be literally in the middle of it all. For about 30 seconds I get disorientated as my eyes try and track skaters whilst in the middle. I get over this and re-familiarise myself with my task. That is tracking penalties: who, what and when. Sounds simple enough so I'm relaxed and looking pretty chill. And then the first jam kicks off and I realise that I have to spin around on the spot following play and the speed of the game is reinforced again! Why do I keep forgetting the break neck pace at which derby takes place? I do miss the odd call but Carolyn and Mel are on hand to quiz the refs allowing me to maintain an air of of silence. It's over way too fast and I disappear without saying my goodbyes. I do hate goodbyes.

And then I head to Tesco! Now It's 16:00 and Swap informed me that any time after 18:00 would be not too early for the party. I'll take my time and get my browse on. I purchase: 25x chicken wings, 4 x scotch eggs, 2 x bacon and egg bites, 4 x hunters sausage, 2 x chicken kiev bites, 6 x Mcoys, crate of Guinness, Umbongo, Pepsi, soda water and apple juice. The moral of the story is do not shop whilst hungry, I'd skipped lunch. I fill my face in the car before heading to the party. Upon arrival I can not spot a single parking space that my questionable parallel parking skills well let me park in, park!

So I drive around the block and head back down. I spot a space and try to pack my car into it to no avail. It is now that I spot Swapnal staring at me  he has been dumbstruck by my parking ineptitude. So I tell him I'm gonna park on the next street over and I start lugging my gear in. Walking up the stairs I spot a large black box with the Xfactor sign in the middle. I assume that is either Swap's or Vicky's costume. As I head back outside Swap suggests that if he moves his car forward I could park behind rather easily thus eliminating my parking problems. Common sense often eludes me.

Reformatted front room

So we sit and talk about the state of the world and how constant news updates just reinforce the fact that we are headed for oblivion. So beer? Yes...much beer. Andrew arrives and I enquire as to what I should call him, other than Andrew as it's too formal. He says whatever so Swap suggests Drew! I've only ever met one Drew and he was my boss...ex boss. Now that leaves a little wiggle room. The more reasonable amongst you will go straight to the "He must have lost his job" or "His boss, Drew, must have lost his job". But I know that's not how my mind works and contrary to popular belief, we are not so different you and I. Does anyone get that reference? It's all over the place in popular culture :-D First spotted it in Austin Powers. So ex-boss could mean that somehow I burnt through my seemingly limitless reserves of calm and busted him on the pavement!

He informs us that his daughter is due round tomorrow so maybe he'll be having a relatively tame night, nah. Vicky pops up and starts the cooking process. Pizza, sausage rolls, spring rolls and cheese goujons. I've never typed the word goujon before and my spell check does not recognise it. The first and only suggestion on the list was gorgon. Cheese gorgon...tasty. Vicky explains the intricacies of her costume extend beyond X factor, shit TV in general and extracts my present. A book has this quote on the back "Here is a test to find whether your mission on Earth is finished: if you're alive, it isn't" Dan arrives and upon seeing my sizeable shoulders he invites me to partake in some lifting of the heavy nature. I regrettably had to decline on account of my crumbling spine. I am deceptively brittle.

Here is the test to find whether your mission on Earth is finished: if you're alive, it isn't.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/r/richardbac101049.html#ffI7YrYzsm7q2iko.99

We costume up: I have taken the form of a panda, Swapnal a chav gangster and Andy a bishop. I should explain that the theme of tonight's event is things you'd like to put into room 101. I was expecting a strong backlash and Vicky doesn't disappoint she instantly jumps to panda's defence. But after my barrage of facts she ceases her defence or decides I am a lost cause and moves on. Throughout the night everyone was surprisingly open to putting the cutest endangered bears into room 101. Swap dislikes wannabe gangster chavs, which is fair enough they are really, really annoying. Andy has come a bishop but he is representing all religion, I don't like organised religion. But then again I don't really like rules.

1 in 4 pandas will tear your face off. The others will just bow down all cute and what not.

My reasons for wanting to put pandas into room 101 are because they are a bear that eats bamboo. They are sooooooo ill adapted to eating bamboo that they have to eat 10-20kg a day. That's right their digestive systems are still in carnivore mode! They don't mate enough! And most females get postpartum depression. I love the animal it's terribly cute and get is surprised by sneezes. But they just won't cut it. You can get rid of all funding and they will survive. Why? Because they are a Chinese icon. Pretty sure all pandas are owned by China. Also I am backed up by Chris Packham, wildlife expert, and Ricky Gervais, all round legend.

Panda rant done back to the party :D So now come Harry, Emily and a lad whose name I didn't catch! I only realise now that I did not ascertain his name. Next time....Emily has come as Marmite not much more to say on the subject as I wholeheartedly dislike marmite. Myself, Swap and Andy take a stand so as to greet the newcomers. Bit of chatter and we rearrange ourselves on the seating in order to try and encourage everyone to fill up the seats. We had been occupying 2 sofas and a pew. We are now occupying one sofa and a pew. I was being surly and refusing to move. Now arrive Dan, in costume, and Gareth, Dan's bro.

Dan is dressed in an old school american military uniform with a white stick, dark shades and an american flag. I had no idea what he'd come as and didn't ask him on the night! I was too busy being a panda. Lookig back I think he may have come as blind nationalism? Gareth has dressed up as Bruno Mars. And just in case his outfit was too subtle he has is wearing a self labelling t shirt. This surely signals a battle of epic proportions. Our Swapnal is a notorious Bruno Mars impersonator. Well he pops on a fedora and is, more or less, constantly told he looks like Bruno Mars.

I am running low on writing juice so I shall retire for the night and return upon the morrow! It's been a week since the event so my thoughts have been pieced together. I remember now that one of Vicky's mates from uni arrived whilst I was downstairs and I stood back not wanting to disrupt their reunion. Little embarrassing but I didn't take the time to ask her her name :-S. Or at least confirm her name. I did hear it being used throughout the night but in my, somewhat, inebriated state I can't be 100% sure what it was. I have three options: Gianna, Chianna or Rihanna. I think the first one is most likely, only time will tell. I'm going to refer to her as Cruella as that was her costume on the night, a stand against fur for fashion.

It's around this point that Bruce and Laura arrive. Bruce is blue cheese complete with grapes and crackers for garnish, genius! Laura has come as Harry Potter I did not ask why but I'm not a massive fan of Harry as a main character. He's a little too Hugh Grant, admittedly I've only ever seen the films so perhaps I'm off the mark. Oh Mark! He was on his way to York and gave me a call before everything kicked off. He informed me of his Subway purchases and told me the story. Doesn't matter where I go in life I don't think I'll ever come across anyone quite like Mark James Taylor.

It's around now that everyone pops out for another smoke leaving me sat on my pew like a lemon. I dislike being citrus of any kind so I burst into action and engage Gareth in conversation about work and driving etc. I learn that he did contemplate "blacking up" to make his Bruno Mars costume more authentic. But was worried about the potential backlash when walking through Lincoln town centre. The smokers return and I think this is when I got started on spirits. Vodka Umbongo didn't go down too well but was vastly improved by the addition of a little fizz.

They drink it in the congo

I advance and somehow strike up a conversation with Laura. I had to ask her her name twice. I am terrible with names unless I learn your full name. Then I should be able to recall it regardless of the last time I saw you. This idiosyncrasy was pointed out to me by the one...the only...I.T. Helpdesk III! The one piece of info that sticks in my memory is that she told me her daughter was 21 months old and she was not looking forwards to the terrible twos. Andy has a a two year old daughter and swings in with many tales to terrify Laura further.

I am notice something involving straws is occurring. It would appear Cruella is crafting a construction out of straws. I enquire as to what and why. It's a giant straw for Vicky to use as her most awesome TV costume does not allow for easy access to beverages. Cruella is having a bit of a mare as she's wearing satin gloves thus making deft straw manoeuvring an impossible task. I offer to help as I have the dexterity of a surgeon. My hands are so gentle that I am able to handle ants between my thumb and forefinger with no damage coming to the insect. A skill that I am yet to find a profitable use for. Straw successfully constructed I take a picture, as is my way.

Now is when I meet Bruce, top bloke. He runs through the whirlwind that was meeting his wife and having a daughter. To which my only comment is "21 months!" He mucho impressed by the speed of my calculation and as much as I would like to take all the glory I admit that Laura told me mere minutes ago. Out of the window I can see cherry blossom, sakura in Japanese, spring has truly sprung. Bruce now enquires as to who Gareth has come as. The more astute amongst you will realise that this may seem something of an unnecessary question as Gareth is self labelling tonight. Turns out Bruce hasn't the foggiest who Bruno Mars is. Reminds me of a certain Matthew Lamar, when Ben Good asked him what his opinion of Vladamir Putin was his completely serious reply was "I don't really listen to music."

Courtesy of distractify.com

Not so sure how I engaged these two in conversation but I think Swap may have quizzed them about their apparent hatred of football. Turns out Emma would very much like to see all things football related disappear and Ian just wants Liverpool to vanish off the face of the planet. Now that that's cleared up Ian mentioned he's quite the avid runner. Turns out him and a mate completed Tough Mudder last year. Now they plan on doing five of them. When asked if I'd give it a crack I am gutted that I can't! Spinal woes. During this time Vicky is doing the rounds with a tray of Baileys shots. I think the glasses, the tray and the Baileys were all gifts.

It's around now that the band kicks off and we are treated to a barrage of classics that gets the room moving. In an attempt to close the gap between the band and the crowd myself, Swapnal and Andy go sit on the rearranged seating. Again we are unsuccessful at manoeuvring the masses. I nip downstairs to break the seal and bump into Ben and Andy on their way in. I had previously met Ben at the Soiree back in...June? Was it really that long ago!? Anyhow he's with Andy and I assume they are related. I think they looked alike but I was off the mark, all yall look alike! Bruce and Laura are departing as well. I should also mention that Ben thought I lived at the house!

When I head back upstairs I see that Dan has mounted his bass. There's a combination of words that, even with the most vivid/twisted of imaginations, I never would have concocted. Now comes the time for some fresh vocal input. And so Marie "the spider" Travis makes her way to the stage. The switch up is pretty amazing. Wearing a large woolly panda balaclava is taking it's toll and I head outside to cool off. This scene is missing as I have no idea what happened during this time.

Heading back indoors I intentionally park myself in the middle of the dance floor. It's the space between the couches and one of the kitchen islands. If you scroll back up to the pic of the room then you can see it is a narrow strip of dance floor. During an interlude there is a swift exchange of hats between Karly, Andy, Swapnal, Jaime and myself. Now Unicum comes out to play play. Swap mixes it with redbull and we get cracking. It sips badly and the after taste is indescribable so naturally the executive decision is made to add blue curacao, orangey blue bitterness what could possibly go wrong? It doesn't help one jot.

Let's move on. It's time for costume prizes! Andy wins best dressed man for his red bishop/cardinal. Cruella wins for her creative stand against fur and the spider takes the grand prize! And now it's time for some more music! So Swapnal fetches his five string guitar and Ben starts strumming along with Steve. Dan appeals to the crowd for some new vocal talent and so we begin the slow spiral towards karaoke.

Now here's where my mind gets rather mixed up and the chronology falls apart. I remember a guy from a few doors down pops in after hearing all the ruckus. He naturally gets me and Swapnal mixed up asking me how long I've lived here. Cruella requests I record a short video for a a friend. This would involve the use of her phone. Given that it has limited battery life she insists I leave it on standby until the last moment. No problem but this means I have to learn the code to unlock her phone. I still remember the code! I end up recording a 4 minute spectacular of a video which is immediately posted to facebook. My help in this endeavour results in this question from Cruella "why are you so nice!?" I have no answer so I ask Gareth. His answer is that you can in fact be too nice. All's fair in love and war etc.

The night winds down and someone tells me Andy is is outside having it out with someone on the phone. Now this is the scene to end all scenes. A man dressed as a bishop is stood outside a church early on a Sunday morning having a casual argument on the phone! I grab my gear out the car and Vicky kindly preps my bed for the night. It is of course a three seater couch + a two seater couch making for quite the lovely leather bed. I brush my teeth and read some more about cold reading techniques before drifting off. My sleep is interrupted by someone on the search for red wine and again on the quest for a phone. Sometime later I hear a disturbance but amongst all the noise I hear Swapnal's voice and trust he's got it under control. I am summoned to lend a hand. As chance would have it I have two rather large hands so I get involved it is about 04:00.

What transpired ended up with Swapnal asleep on the two seater next to me. It did not occur to us to separate the two sofas! As I go to sleep I remember that this time last year we were in a similar situation except in Swapnal's bed. The more things change the more they stay the same! What's funnier is that I used the subject of pandas as a means of switching subjects with the ever effervescent Eleanor. And here I was a year later dressed as a panda, of sorts. A few hours of sleep later I bust a move and refresh myself in the shower. Freshly showered I can't get back to sleep so I feast on chicken wings whilst reading Dale Carnegie's word's of wisdom.

Swapnal is up, sort of and takes up my offer of chicken wings. We've motored through about half of them so I head to the bin to get rid of the bones. This throws Swap into a minor panic as he thought I was about to bin the remaining wings! Vicky is kind enough to cooks us bacon and eggs and we tuck in gratefully. We sit in silence for a while as neither of us is particularly awake at this moment in time. Andy pops up looking cheerful and spins around in a circle in search of something. He pulls a wok from his drawer and puts it back before whipping out a pan. Now its time to look for eggs and the eggs he finds have a best before date of....October 2013!

I pull myself together and do a final kit check before shipping out. It's been an eventful and exceedingly enjoyable night. I hope every March the 1st will be as awesome as the last two have been. I should mention that I retrieved my 4 pack of scotch eggs from the fridge before heading home. They were under not one but two boxes of regular eggs! On my way home I find myself listening to this, soothing Sunday music. Almost forgot amaretto and umbongo makes for a kickass mixture!

Jiglz - The manufacturer of my awesome panda balaclava :D

Now for a mad conspiracy! WWIII is set to kick off any moment now and I for one am not sold on this being anything other than a conspiracy. Rule of three anyone? If we go in reverse chronological order there is the invasion of the Ukraine. With the flimsy front of defending their nationals on foreign soil Russia has stepped in. Putin is not a fan of homosexuality and is hosting an international sporting event...remind you of anyone? I'll give you a clue he wrote a book about camping and was shown up by a single man of colour at the 1936 Olympics. And now for the last, or first, step his rise to power. Well his rerise to power. All of this makes me think that he's being set up as the next boogie man for the world to focus their combined disapproval on. But then again I think the horse meat scandal was a weak attempt to scare us into eating healthier and that the footage of the moon landings could not have survived the radiation in space. So I'm probably massively misinformed completely off the money.