Showing posts with label Blog. Personal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blog. Personal. Show all posts

Sunday, 27 February 2011

I wish I could think of a decent title.

With the encouraging words of Alexander Schuch still firmly ingrained in my memory I set to work writing the first blog I have written in a while.
No excuses its probably got a lot to do with the general laziness I've been suffering that I haven't actually done another blog. Or that I've only ever had like 3 comments ever! People say they have read them and thought they were really good yet I have no comments!
The best place to start would probably be the events of today, which started badly after I forgot that the church service I had meant to be doing sound desk on was moved to Alty Methodist Church. The silver lining to this was that I went campaigning with the Labour Party (Woo!) and Broadheath was full of the sounds of the general public being harassed by a bunch of people who had far too much energy for a Sunday morning!
After that my family (or rather my mum) was insistent that we went out for lunch. We were originally meant to be visiting Bocadillo's in the village; but finding that closed we went further afield.
This was when my Mum revealed to us that she didn't feel suitably dressed or prepared for an actual restaurant and so 2 o'clock found her wallowing in the ambiance of the Tesco café eating jacket potato with the rest of us deciding that maybe it wasn't so bad at all.

Yesterday an event happened that had been waiting a while. I, by a slip of the tongue, called Anne Black... Mum.
I was on Skype to Emily and we had been talking earlier about how I sometimes practically live at her house. True as this may be maybe I shouldn't go round as often before I forget where I actually live.
I went down to watch telly with my actual parents later wondering if I would feel any bond of familiarity with them at all!

This week I have been looking at the world of the automobile. I've been trawling through www.Autotrader.co.uk trying to find a possible car for me to drive. After the millionth page of ford fiesta's I found possibly the worst car in the world.
This car has;

- A top speed of 56mph (so litterally 0-60 in like never!)
- An engine you'd probably find in a lawnmower with about 21bhp.

And let's face it. Any car with "boot carpet" listed in its features is getting pretty desperate!
On the flip side it's an automatic and is all yours for £1790.
On the other hand you'll have grannies overtaking you on the inside lane whilst their mates, stuffed in the back with their morrisons and B'n'M bargains bags, swear at you through the back window.

Recently I have discovered the wonder that is Skype. (Recently being since my last blog). Skype basically lets you talk to people via the wonder that is the internet! Unfortunately my girlfriend's skype keeps going on and off. I have actually started to just to count until she goes offline again. It's rather frustrating for her. Mildly amusing for me as it winds her up to no end. It's even funnier because you can do this thing called screen share which means that the other person can see what you're doing on your screen. I am using this as a form of torture as she can see what is being written AND HAS NO WAY OF STOPPING IT MWHAHAHAHA! ... apart from blackmail.
... which she is rather good at. Because she is a horrible person.

I am also a horrible person because I am enjoying this. I guess that's why we're still together.
(Emily: God knows why) (Adam: I'm sure he does but because you're an atheist he doesn't think you exist)

Religion is an interesting topic. Not many comedians venture out into what is effectively an
Indiana Jones tunnel of death with a rolling Pope chasing them. However some do. Eddie Izzard for example likes the idea of a god of chaos who sits in a caravan somewhere in the universe and goes "I made that? I dunno did I?" *Emily's internet fails* Maybe God is punishing me. He certainly seemed hellbent that I was not going to be going to church today. (Maybe he thinks I'm a bad influence on the old people there) First I overslept, second of all it tipped it down and when I finally arrived. Nobody was there. Instead a polite little notice informed me that the service had been moved to Alty Methodist Church and nobody had deigned to tell me (or maybe I just forgot... who knows? Apparently him but I received no memo from the guy in the sky)

You might notice that my spelling is rather good in this Blog. This is because I now have my own little voice making sure I stay on the straight and narrow with Emily on this screen sharing thing on Skype who seems to be going pedal to the metal to make sure my spelling is correct. GRAMMAR NAZI! (Emily: well you're the English Student!)

It's kind of like having your teacher staring over your shoulder and reading everything you've said. I can also tell her reaction to everything I've said as she is in a wonderful little box to the right of my screen. Which also means I can see the guy in her cupboard that she's been "babysitting" with again! (Emily: No you can't because I'm on the floor) (Adam: So there IS a guy in your cupboard then?) *Emily's internet dies* (Emily: kills self)

I hope by my little brackets you can see my relationship with Emily *Emily's internet dies* as a sort of voice over my shoulder thing... *Emily's internet dies* (Adam: this is actually quite funny... except its not because I have to put the effort in of actually putting her back on screen share. It's like trying to hang a cup on a rail that's slanted. You know the cups going to fall off and you'll have to pick it up and... (Emily: Oh so you have to put effort in to putting me back on the screen? Am I that much of a burden?) (Adam: No dear...) yeh its always going to fall off...

Any how I will now love you and leave you as I am going to get back to watching Emily get increasingly frustrated with her internet. Which, as it turns out, is actually quite fun!

Adam xxx

A conclusion is the place where you get tired of thinking. x

Sunday, 12 September 2010

I have decided to write a blog. Not because anybody asked me to or that I think anyone might benefit from the ramblings of a somewhat deranged teen. I don't have some weird and wonderful story that ties in neatly into why I'm actually writing the stuff that you're currently reading. I'm here. I'm me. Deal with it. (Was that a tad too aggressive? I'm sorry)
I could say that I'm writing to give my views on world news, current events, scandal and gossip, indeed there might be these things in here, but it is unlikely... but probable.
From a proper Christian point of view I could try and bang on about how great God is. I won't because there's no point. I'm sure you're intelligent enough to make your own little minds up. A disbelief in God does not result in a belief in nothing; disbelief in God usually results in a belief in anything. It is unlikely you'll find me on your doorstep with a bible in one hand and a grin that makes most people cross themselves, saying; "Good Morning Sir/Madam I was wondering if you fancied a talk about Christ." If I do. Kill me. It might be the right thing to do.
I'm not saying that its wrong to be a Christian. I'm saying that telling other people they should be probably isn't a good idea. "Oh hello Mr Rabbi, Have you ever thought of joining the church" You go try that and see how that works for your life expectancy skills.
Much like the author Terry Pratchet I believe that there's a fine line between murder and suicide. As dark a topic as this may seem, hear me out, it's probably not as bad as you think.
Now you see murder could probably be best described as unprovoked because, lets face it, telling a 6ft 7 skinhead that you did his Mother behind the bike shed last night is suicide, turning up to a Liverpool Game wearing a Manchester United top is suicide, wearing a fleece and trackies whilst skateboarding to the nearby shops is social suicide. A completely different concept.
Social suicide is saying that you secretly liked Jedward's version of Ice Ice Baby, or that you pose naked in the mirror. (I should probably stay quiet about the Jedward). Social Suicide is, for a certain 17 year old, about running to give your mate a hug, them moving and you bailing onto your side infront of a packed Cafe Nero.
Even the woman on the mobility scooter stopped to laugh at me...
That's all from me at the mo but I will leave you with one thing;
Borrow money from pessimists- they don't expect it back.
Adam x