Some of you who know me well might know I actually have four frees today and, as such, I don't actually need to be in school until 2.15. Those same few people might look at the time this blog was written and wonder "what the hell was he doing up THEN?".
Believe me, it's been a question I've been asking myself for the past hour.
I woke up this morning to the sight of ipod headphones. Yet no ipod. I vaguely remember unplugging the headphones and looking at the ipod but after then I have no idea. After searching high and low for about 20mins and clearing out the bed underneath I have yet to find it, which is why I propose that all expensive small equipment is fitted with some sort of ring tone. Maybe I should go to the dragon's with this brilliant idea. "...and er yes dragons my idea today is to put a ring tone on all small products such as ipods, glasses, keys and your sense of humor. Which you seem to have lost a while ago." I suppose we could have all sorts of little ringtones. Some of which may, once you have located the lost item, may want to make you throw it against a convenient wall... I'm still working on something for the deaf.
For those of you that might have watched his live shows Micheal Mcintyre is a very funny man, with his wobbly hair and a twitch like a crack dealer. However he once suggested something that made my trip down Brooklands road on an unusally dry, cheshire morning, something of a quicker ordeal. It all started with the fact I currently have a pain in my ankle which I have a feeling is caused by my school shoes. Well it actually started about 17 years ago. Well actually before that, but for the sake of my breakfast please...
Anyway I took them to school in a sainsbury's carrier bag. My little brother had also forgot his boots for that morning. So I also took them to school in another sainsbury's carrier bag. I found that Micheal's words of wisdom on the swinging the arms front worked quite well with two carrier bags, so picture if you will. Me, in a suit and battered Airwalks, Ipod headphones in, madly swinging these bags about in order to gain more forward momentum, getting odd looks from the drivers, even, at one point when I thought nobody was looking, adding the skipping element to my cocktail of speed enhancing genius which I found to be quite an error. The first problem was that it created too much forward momentum, put me off balance, at which point I fell over. The second problem was I was wrong when I thought nobody was watching as an elderly woman was just coming out of her house and was currently giggling to herself.
She might be crazy and thought I was a leprechaun. We can hope.
Now that I am up and about, I have just had a lecture from my dad about how home frees are "study periods and should be used as such". Which to me translated as home frees are "study periods until I bugger off out and then you can do whatever the fuck you want". So I have made the excuse that this blog is helping me improve my journalistic skills (long word there) and am sat here until he goes out at which point I might go back to bed... and look for my ipod.
(THAT WAS NOT A SEXUAL INNUENDO).
Anyway I have run out of things to write about, or energy, or maybe I want to go look for my ipod...
Wish me Luck and as usual I'll leave you with a few words.
They say two days ago tomorrow was a good day.
I remember it like it was yesterday.
Adam x
Friday, 24 September 2010
Thursday, 16 September 2010
What am I thinking?
Well for my sake I hope that Psychic that I put a notice for last blog will hurry up. I have no idea what I'm thinking of writing today... and yet still no messages inside my head from any passing telepath. I was planning today on what I was going to write. I even had an intro sorted in my head but now it's gone!
Well I can just keep talking (or writing as the case may be!) and hope the light dawns sooner or later. Wouldn't bet on it though. I've been waiting 17 years...
Mary has just been watching this awful program on the television. It's called Francis and is about a badger that sings along to classical music. It wouldn't be a bad program if it wasn't drowned out by a low grinding sound as Beethoven and Bach roll over in their graves. By the end of the program they're probably practically spinning tops. Actually I take that back...
It'd still be a shite program.
Children's TV has quite a lot of imported crap these days. I remember "back in the day" when we had Playdays and Thomas the Tank Engine. I think maybe if Mary watched some quality TV than other crap American show which teaches kids how to speak bloody japanese whilst standing on their Fecking heads.
To be honest its hard to know what to actually write about at the moment. I think I have writers block and like Rob Bee I've decided it's your fault. Why? Because I'm writing and your reading. If you weren't reading, I wouldn't be writing but I like writing and (hopefully) you like reading. Would be nice if I got a comment every once in a while. I like it when people come up to me and talk about my blogs (now up to a mighty three when I publish this one) but yeh it would nice if it didn't look like I was writing to myself.
Thought to be honest writing to yourself can't be that much different than talking to yourself so I'm pretty much already there.
Actually we should blame the psychic; for simply not telling me what I'm thinking. God! what am I paying him an hour?
Okay I pay him in biscuits. THIS IS NOT UP FOR DISCUSSION. (actually feel free I just won't listen. JEREMY IS MINE)
I've just had an automated message on the phone. I was actually wondering what the best way to deal with a sales person actually is. A favorite of mine was from my girlfriends dad "Hello? Yes I'm just about to make love to my secretary. Okay thank you goodbye."
My Grandma, the rebellious person that she is, puts them on the side and apparently they'll happily talk for a while...
Does anyone have any suggestions for future ones I could do on anyone that calls? I always seem to be in when they all call. It's a bit of a disappointment to be honest with you. "Oh the phone?" *runs over to the phone* "Hello?" "Hi I'm calling from BT" You feel like just wanting to just blow up the phone. Such a let down.
Okay you're angry but I agree with Lee Evans. The problem with these wireless phones is that you can't slam them down! It's like yeh "FUCK YOU"... and you look for the receiver but its at the other end of the room and it's like "Yeh give me a second whilst I just get to the receiver. AWKWARD!
I'm going to end it there. However the thought for the day is...
Bigamy: one wife too many.
Monogamy: same thing
Much love
Adam x
Well I can just keep talking (or writing as the case may be!) and hope the light dawns sooner or later. Wouldn't bet on it though. I've been waiting 17 years...
Mary has just been watching this awful program on the television. It's called Francis and is about a badger that sings along to classical music. It wouldn't be a bad program if it wasn't drowned out by a low grinding sound as Beethoven and Bach roll over in their graves. By the end of the program they're probably practically spinning tops. Actually I take that back...
It'd still be a shite program.
Children's TV has quite a lot of imported crap these days. I remember "back in the day" when we had Playdays and Thomas the Tank Engine. I think maybe if Mary watched some quality TV than other crap American show which teaches kids how to speak bloody japanese whilst standing on their Fecking heads.
To be honest its hard to know what to actually write about at the moment. I think I have writers block and like Rob Bee I've decided it's your fault. Why? Because I'm writing and your reading. If you weren't reading, I wouldn't be writing but I like writing and (hopefully) you like reading. Would be nice if I got a comment every once in a while. I like it when people come up to me and talk about my blogs (now up to a mighty three when I publish this one) but yeh it would nice if it didn't look like I was writing to myself.
Thought to be honest writing to yourself can't be that much different than talking to yourself so I'm pretty much already there.
Actually we should blame the psychic; for simply not telling me what I'm thinking. God! what am I paying him an hour?
Okay I pay him in biscuits. THIS IS NOT UP FOR DISCUSSION. (actually feel free I just won't listen. JEREMY IS MINE)
I've just had an automated message on the phone. I was actually wondering what the best way to deal with a sales person actually is. A favorite of mine was from my girlfriends dad "Hello? Yes I'm just about to make love to my secretary. Okay thank you goodbye."
My Grandma, the rebellious person that she is, puts them on the side and apparently they'll happily talk for a while...
Does anyone have any suggestions for future ones I could do on anyone that calls? I always seem to be in when they all call. It's a bit of a disappointment to be honest with you. "Oh the phone?" *runs over to the phone* "Hello?" "Hi I'm calling from BT" You feel like just wanting to just blow up the phone. Such a let down.
Okay you're angry but I agree with Lee Evans. The problem with these wireless phones is that you can't slam them down! It's like yeh "FUCK YOU"... and you look for the receiver but its at the other end of the room and it's like "Yeh give me a second whilst I just get to the receiver. AWKWARD!
I'm going to end it there. However the thought for the day is...
Bigamy: one wife too many.
Monogamy: same thing
Much love
Adam x
Monday, 13 September 2010
My life is a party.
As much as I know you all like my little blogs popping up on your "what I'm following" feed I will try and make sure this isn't quite a daily thing (unless I get any requests/hints/death threats). Anyway today I, like most of the populations less rebellious youth, (did I really just use the word "youth"? Bloody Hell! I'll be needing a bleeding pension next!) decided to drag myself out of bed at some godforsaken hour and where we grab a shower, attempt to shave ourselves with toothpaste, fall asleep in our breakfast and wander out of the door with no pants on...
Those familiar with the Brooklands area in Cheshire will know of a the dreaded "Brooklands Road" which runs for about a mile and a half from Brooklands roundabout to Brooklands station (we're very creative with names in Cheshire). That road has a time space continuum all of its own! You can be walking down there for what seems to you to be about half an hour and you will come out with a bigass beard and Grandkids.
I remember back in summer after my Ipod had been helpfully mugged from me on that same road I decided that walking to school needed spicing up. So I borrowed my Dad's old portable Radio. (My life is a party). The first day I "borrowed" it I couldn't find my headphones so I was walking along Brooklands Road with this portable Radio held out in front of me getting many a strange looks from the drivers in the endless traffic that seems to pile up on there which was probably due to the fact I kept loosing signal, stopping and waving it about a bit and at one point giving it a slap. (Good old British "it'll work if I bloody smack it one" knowhow). Looking back on this I should've probably gone up to one of the cars and pretended it was some sort of scanning device and "examined" their cars with a concerned expression. (As I said before... My life is a party).
After that previous paragraph I've decided that this one will be my first one to actually have a title. Which makes it special.
Yet again I leave you with another one liner. I am a fountain of knowledge.
There are 3 kinds of people: those who can count and those who can't.
Adam. x
On another note. I'm in need of a psychic. You know where to Apply.
Those familiar with the Brooklands area in Cheshire will know of a the dreaded "Brooklands Road" which runs for about a mile and a half from Brooklands roundabout to Brooklands station (we're very creative with names in Cheshire). That road has a time space continuum all of its own! You can be walking down there for what seems to you to be about half an hour and you will come out with a bigass beard and Grandkids.
I remember back in summer after my Ipod had been helpfully mugged from me on that same road I decided that walking to school needed spicing up. So I borrowed my Dad's old portable Radio. (My life is a party). The first day I "borrowed" it I couldn't find my headphones so I was walking along Brooklands Road with this portable Radio held out in front of me getting many a strange looks from the drivers in the endless traffic that seems to pile up on there which was probably due to the fact I kept loosing signal, stopping and waving it about a bit and at one point giving it a slap. (Good old British "it'll work if I bloody smack it one" knowhow). Looking back on this I should've probably gone up to one of the cars and pretended it was some sort of scanning device and "examined" their cars with a concerned expression. (As I said before... My life is a party).
After that previous paragraph I've decided that this one will be my first one to actually have a title. Which makes it special.
Yet again I leave you with another one liner. I am a fountain of knowledge.
There are 3 kinds of people: those who can count and those who can't.
Adam. x
On another note. I'm in need of a psychic. You know where to Apply.
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
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
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