Finally Home... Special Long Edition!

Aloha, Konbanwa!
You better read it all. I sat here and mentally regurgitated this for YOU.
Now I'm sure that you've been sitting there, in your slightly-comfortable chair for the past few days, occasionally eating, constantly refreshing this page, wondering to yourself "Where is he? Where is my fix of babble?"...*

Well wait no more. I have almost all of the interesting details, you could even consider this a special edition, in fact, now it is, that's going in the title.

Well, dear reader, I've been up to numerous things**, to begin with I've been away character-developing with Tom for Studio8's sitcom, 'Delivered'. I could give you a seemingly unimportant snippet if you like? Yes?
No. It'll spoil all the surprises.
If you're a hardcore Studio8 fan, you'll come to the screening, not because you're a fan just because you're a cheapskate as it'll probably be illegal to charge entry, even though I'd love to see your face when I inform you the money goes towards trips to Starbucks and pots of Jam very important Studio8 related things (Like pots of Jam).

I also disappeared to couzin Joe's once again, for a weekend of singing out windows, eating toast, destroying Joe's relationships, social image and morale as well installing wireless routers.
As well as taking "scenic" images such as this:

Yes, this was just to show off my amazing new tee.

So was this.

So, I returned near-home***, to a social-gathering with Mr Joe, Bev and briefly, Anna.
There was little to drink, quantity wise; Bev had a Strongbow, a Stella or two and some "blue crap" which simply tasted like lemonade, just, it was 4+% vol.
Now, this would possibly be enough to get one of us tipsy, if not for what Mr Joe brought...
An innocent-looking bottle, containing a stinging concoction of Whiskey, Vodka, lemon juice and god-knows what else.
I remember singing Modest Mouse songs while swinging in the park, semi-dressed. I also remember eating chips, staring at the sky.
I love the chips from that place:

"Your chips are amazing!"
"Sam, you're shouting."
"Thank you!"

Ah, a good night.
For those interested Mr Joe also offers an extended, shoe-uncut version of events, HERE.


So, again changing the subject, a talent of mine, today I had a "recruitment day" at Argos, as part of my futile attempt to become employed for the Summer and pay for the endless stream of needless crap I tend to buy.
I began the day in a lucid dream in which I was desperately trying to turn an alarm off, waking up, I found the IKEA clock by the side of my bed was the culprit of the noise that had found its way into my dream. I whispered obscenities while turning it off and carelessly fell back asleep, only to wake at 10:30, the time I was supposed to be leaving home for the bus to town. A positive start.
I arrived at Argos, dead on 12, joining a quiet, nervous room, in which possible job candidates were dotted around sofa's and various chairs, biting their nails with scowls on their face.
I scribbled my name onto a sticker and slapped it to my tee-shirt, which depicted a giant, screaming chocolate chip muffin, the perfect choice of clothing for an interview.
A Polaroid-picture of me was required, I thought I'd pull a face, but one of the hot girls was looking over, I at least wanted to give off the illusion that I was sane before I ruined it by speaking.

Silence ensued.

I began to think that we'd be abducted, one-by-one to a dark, dank room with a blinding spotlight, to be interviewed "under caution" and pushed to breaking point only to be told we were too weak for the hectic, warzone-esque scene of a catalogue store.
However, after drinking some much needed water we were led away to the 'Staff Training' room, the door of which automatically slammed behind you****.

It was rumoured that perhaps we'd have to describe a product, I discussed with Mr Joe how that whole process could go:

"It's... A wok.
You could, cook bacon and eggs with it...
On an hob thing...
You could also beat people with it...
And, as it's Teflon coated, their blood won't stick to it..."

Perhaps we'd have to role-play with an angry customer?:

"Ok, I'm an angry customer."
"Good for you?"
"Um, yeh. So, this thing I bought doesn't work."
"You think this is a repair shop? You think I can fix this? I SELL the product, this is Argos."
"But?!?"
"I didn't make it, I don't know how it works... Send it to the manufacturer, this isn't a sales problem..."

Anyway, the tense air lifted as we were greeted by some of the store staff, after introducing ourselves via others and filling in a few catalogue-number-related-test-sheets we came to the final challenge, where three teams must build a bridge out of mega-blocks, using the least bricks possible plus this bridge must also fit a team-member underneath.
So, we began building with one of my brilliant plans, then realizing although it was sturdy, we were using way too many bricks compared to the others, one of the staff pointed out:

"You've used alot of pieces there..."
"Well, ours looks alot grander and prettier than the others, it's also very sturdy."
"The workers won't get wages though... You spent all the money on the bricks..."
"It doesn't matter, it's a communistic bridge, it's all equal and fair and they are all just happy that the bridge is there for them, they're a happy communist community."
"I see."

With ten seconds left, realizing we'd still used many more bricks than the other two teams, I quickly grabbed some mega-block men that came in the bag and chucked together a 5-brick bridge:

"And, Team 2, how many bricks have you used?"
"Five!"
"..."
"You see, the rules stated that a member of the team had to go under the bridge, now I have elected these mega-block men to join our team, therefore, a member of the team is passing under this bridge, built of five bricks."
"What's that behind you?"
"Oh that? It's just the 28-brick prototype... *Whispering* Kick it over. Kick it over."

I have a feeling I have left a lasting impression. Whether it be good or not, is something else entirely...


Moving on, this week I also found out that I have a "very rare personality" and that only 3.8% of people have a similar one, which was quite an interestingly-nice find. Oddly enough though, as small as the chances are, I've known Rachael nearly all of my life who has the exact same result as me*****. We're magic you see.

Talking of Rach, she reminded me of "one of the funniest things" I have ever said in Maths.
Our teacher was just chatting when I shouted across the classroom:

"Sarcasm is great Chris... Just like you..."

The good old days... How I will miss Maths...

Sam.
Mood of the Day: Happily-Here
Listening To: Simple Minds - Don't You (Forget About Me)
Current Theory: I'm Never Going To Get Employed
Quote of the Moment: "Sarcasm's great Chris... Just like you..."

*It's fine, honestly. It happens to the best of us.
**Operation: Fill-The-Holiday-With-Stuff-To-Do-To-Avoid-Boredom-
And-Not-Waste-It-Away-In-Bed, working at optimum levels.
***After making fun of the fact Joe was at school, by sending him there with a note I'd written at 3am. Haha, it never wears out.
****The phrase "Don't let the door hit you on the way out" came to mind.
*****That's ENTP, one of the 16 possible results with the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, now, to avoid sounding like I know what I'm talking about, I'm going to say: "Peppered Firecake Sandwich".

22

Aloha, Konbanwa!
So, it's Night 22 of the holiday. I'm proud of myself, I feel that, so far, my holiday has not been wasted. I even woke up Pre-Midday today, a bizzare and rare event. I then ate my breakfast of two packets of "Maryland Choc Chip 'n' Hazlenut" cookies*.

I was greeted by Bev, digitally, not physically, she spent her morning trying to, as I put it, "Scare the crap out of a retard":

Thanks for that Bev...

So, I Spent the day at town today in an attempt to fill every few days of Summer with some sort of activity, although I'm hoping The Sun will actually enter the sky stage before the curtain closes, I want to go to the beach, to the waves.

Seemingly the new terroist target is between two small villages, probably with a maximum population of three, as the bus journey, for five minutes was "guarded" by two police officers...

It was an eventful day, we had a fantastic lunch in a random cafe we found where we noticed that not only can none of us add up correctly but that Jonny and I have the rarely found skill to make a teapot sing.
It's odd, finding myself in a cafe, like we're all on some sort of "cafe crawl", getting smashed on cups of tea and large slices of chocolate cake, stumbling around stealing salt-shakers.
It was nice though, and I don't think I've seen Tom that happy since the Real Belgian Waffle in Bruges.

We then rushed to our private showing of Ocean's 13, where I once again pretended to be a student to gain the £2 discount, a close one this time. We caught the late-afternoon showing, where apart from us, the cinema was deserted. We spent the adverts hiding from each-other and arguing over which of the 200+ seats we should sit in. The film itself was fantastic, one of the best films I've seen in the cinema for awhile, you can tell when a film is good, me, Bev and Tom don't make fun of it.

Note to Self: Studio8 should show 'Delivered' and 'Sam and Tom Today' in the cinema.

Waiting for the bus home with Bev, Becky and Tom could only be described as interesting.
I heard this noise of something being tipped on the floor, accompanied with the loud laughter of some tracksuit-clad locals, I looked over to see that one of them was standing there, "taking a leak" on the floor. Wonderful. I can only thank fate that I could only see the "stream" thanks to the layout of the pillars in the retro bus station.

One of them then came over and stood inches away from me, I wasn't sure whether he wanted to punch me, so I smiled, he then spun around and asked Tom if he wanted some drugs. He then began babbling about how he wanted to take Becky and Bev out, treat them to some good Italian food** and all they want, he didn't quite get to finish his offer as he was interrupted by his friend on a bike, who not only seemed to think he was on a motorbike, also seemed to be having a identity crisis between himself and the crazy frog. Fairplay to him though, he could ride a bike damn well for someone who seemed permanently drunk. Though, I'm sure the cuts on his face were probably from falling.
We sat around, just laughing as he stared at the wall, his pedal-bike stationary, bobbing up and down shouting "Vrrrm, ring, ring, ding, brrm!" We were told not to anger him as he "runs over people's heads with his bike".

I wasn't sure whether to be scared or in hysterics...
We chose the latter.

They then returned to their stop, where the crazy-frog-bike-human hybrid jumped into a trolley and was pushed at high speed down the station, his trolley aimed for a wall.
I couldn't help but clap when we heard the well known giant-tuning-fork-shattering noise that we all know a trolley makes when you ram it into something, such as a friend, another trolley, a car or a brick wall.

While all this was going on, out the windows, in the bus manouevering bay I could see someone carrying a bright red traffic cone chasing a rolled up advertisement behind some of the buses. It was all like some huge orchestrated show, part of me was sad to see the bus home pull up to safely escort us away.

As our bus reversed to leave, the police pulled in, I figured it was to begin a high-speed chase with the crazy frog imitation, who had now disappeared. We could just imagine the live chase on the news.

"Channel 8 News has now linked to a live audio feed of the chase:"
"Mrrrm! Ring, ding, ding, ring! Hahahaa!"

"This is going in the blog".
All in all, another awesome day.

Sam.
Mood of the Day: Happily-Fulfilled
Listening To: Toploader - Dancing In The Moonlight
Current Theory: People are afraid to comment my blog.
Quote of the Moment: "I think I'd make a good terroist..." ~Graham

*Which is, 101.3% of the Recommended Daily Allowance of Fat. Whoops, but as me and Jonny say "Doctors know nothing!".
**Now here's a "chav" with some class, although perhaps it's some sort of Italian special at McD's, who knows.

Yum.

Aloha, Konbanwa.
Just sitting here, watching House, dressed in my retro-caveman clothing status* enjoying my hearty, healthy lunch, consisting of:
A mountain of butter laden toast, with 60mg of Isotretinoin, the world's favourite acne and soul-destroying drug, quickly followed by 1000mg of Flucloxacillin, possibly the best, and most tasty antibiotic so far; as not only is its smell an alarmingly interesting compound of petrol, paint, magic markers mixed with a hint of egg, it comes completely free with headaches, stomach pains, shivers and numbing of the thumbs. That's good value.

I feel like a cat. Or some no-thumb-man.
At least I'm not like, some huge piece of walking bubble-wrap anymore, I guess?

Perhaps the dermatologists are just prescribing everything and anything to see how far I can hold out before the medication kills me off... Abit of a demented sweepstake, perfectly legal in the NHS I assume though, after all, you get what you pay for, which, in my case, is everything for nothing.

However, this would explain why one of the nurses used to dislike me, I guess she thought I would flake out and kill myself after being unable to cope with all these "Hard-X-Core-Pills\Death Pills" and that would lose her some sweet cash. That's standard patient protocol you see.
Then of course there's another nurse who keeps telling me "You're doing so well", with a smile.
If we were to extend that thought trail for a moment it becomes: "You're doing so well Sam, we've never given any living person this much medication before, you're making me stacks of cash."
It would also show why a consultant and doctor wanted to get involved in my "case", so they could get their latexy-gloved hands into a slice of the backhand "How-Long-Until-Sam-Dies?" sweepstake cash pot.

If they are running such an event, I'd like to at least be involved, I could do with the money...
I bet that the hospital will run out of pills and close down before they can kill me.

Sam.
Mood of the Day: Pumped-Poison
Listening To: The Hoosiers - Worried About Ray
Current Theory: Chocolate Is Not Suitable For Someone On Pills
Quote of the Moment: "If There's Any Justice In The World, He'll Be Struck Down... Strike Him Down! Strike Him Now! ... Any Good Mother Would Have Smothered Him In His Sleep..." ~Jonny, Regarding An Emo

*Oh wouldn't you like to know? ... Fine, boxers. Happy now? You ruined the air of mystery.

My Weekend...

Aloha, Konbanwa!
I return from another visit to couzin Joe's house, which is one of my ideal ways to spend a weekend; eating incredibly unhealthy amounts of caffiene, cholesterol and chips, watching Bleach and assorted films, vocally re-dubbing YouTube videos, kicking Joe's ass on the Wii, ruining Joe's life and property, hitting Joe with a curtain rod* and singing "I love you baby" to girls walking past his house.

This week I worked on damaging Joe's online reputation, so while Joe chatted away on MSN downstairs, I had the brilliant idea, along with fellow-couzin Ki, to log-into Joe's Bebo** account and deface it, secretly, upstairs on the Wii, because we're lovely like that, and might I say, we did quite a good job of ruining his social status:

Click To Enlarge

Of course, sending an e-mail to his future-girlfriend-to-be containing the above evidence was another pro decision of awesomeness on my part.

I'm incredibly childish, I know.

Sam.
Mood of the Day: 1-Upped
Listening To: David Grey - Babylon
Current Theory: Coco Pops Should Be A Rock Band.
Quote of the Moment: "That's Rich Coming From Someone Who Plays Starcraft, Jonny"

*It was self defence, he threw one at my eye.
**MySpace Bebo; "A Place for Friends Vain 13-Year-Olds to Dress Up Like Prostitutes"