2009, Week 11

Short entry this week. It's a predictable and well versed observation, but hangovers get a lot worse, a lot quicker once you hit a certain age. Two days after going out, I still feel like crap.

A few days after my Birthday, I learnt that your mental powers start declining at 27. I have now reached my mental peak and it's all down hill from here. I regularly walk around looking for keys that are in my pocket. My brain is at its optimum. I watched an hour of TV yesterday and realised in last ten minutes that I've seen it before, very recently. If I can't get into MENSA now, I never will. I'm afraid. I don't want to be anymore of an idiot then I am already.

To help my body on its way to terminal idiocy we 'got our binge on' Saturday night under the guise of post birthday drinks. So that's Orange Tree, Moon & Bell and then everyone's favourite sticky floored club, Echos with Jen, Scott, John and Becky.

As usual John got me into trouble by telling Jen things that were only meant to be between him and me. That is, something I wrote on the blog last week. Apparently the term 'clam-fest' could be construed by some as offensive, so I shall not be using it again. I don't think it's wise to say something that could potentially cause offense, I'd much rather be sure of it.

As I was waving goodbye to the 26 year old me, I decided to also say goodbye to some treasured frequencies by standing next to the world's worst speaker in Echos. For the first and very probably the last time in my life (I'm not a slut, it just doesn't ever happen) I 'shooed off' a woman who asked John and I to dance by derogatorily waving my hand at her. My reasons were honourable, I don't think Jen should come back and see me dancing with some random girl. And she was rotund. She gave me a dirty look, some sort of 'don't go there' palm and walked off, which I think was fair enough. John's classic response was 'well, that didn't go well for any of us'.

And that's it for this week. I could rant about Tescos and my scratched up copy of Fallout3, but I really don't have the energy. If you ever have a scratched game, go to Blockbusters and they'll repair it for a few quid. Just don't shout at the staff when they ask you if you moved your xbox when it was on. You may know that you're joking, but the person behind the counter hitting the panic button doesn't. They give you funny looks and it makes you feel a little bit smaller inside. I blame my newly initiated mental decline.

2009, Week 9

It's been one of those weekends that feels like it's over before it's began. That's probably down to lack of sleep, much alcohol and the take-away sweats.

John, Jen and I went to see Watchmen on Friday at Vue, Leicester, a cinema I loathe yet keep going back to. John's twisted mind can make the pre-trailer adverts entertaining, if not a little wrong on all levels. If you ever wanted to make an anti-advert, one which ensured no one bought your product, John is your man. Also, he made quite possibly the funniest ghost train related joke. Unfortunately I think If I committed it to the Internet's It guaranteed me an appointment with Beazlebub for eternity. Or maybe the big G likes paraplegic based comedy. Better not risk it.

Watchmen was long yet entertaining, if not a little tonally unbalanced. I think Snyder had a difficult Job; either make a film that is true to the novel yet a bit of a mess or radically veer away from the source material to make a more cohesive and ultimately accessible film. Either way you're going to piss off the fanboys or the critics. Despite the change to the ending (for the best I think) the film kept as close to the comic as possible for a big budget movie (ha! i said comic, not graphic novel. in your face fanboys!).

As Jen was wedding dress shopping on Saturday I had a loose end. I ended up in a Garden Centre with the 'rents which oddly enough it was my suggestion. The 21 year old me would be severely disappointed by my over enthusiasm to buy rhododendron compost. In fact the 26 year old me is very disappointed.

Saturday night was a pre-birthday pub crawl. Does 3 pubs count as a crawl? OK, pre-birthday pub stroll. I haven't seen Christof or Chris since my brother's wedding and I could quite happily talk rubbish with them into the early hours. Which I did, although according to Jen towards the end it was mostly me talking rubbish at them when everyone wanted to go sleep. Over excited I guess. As usual I put my foot in it, joking with Chris that the good thing about Game Station stores (one of which he manages) is that unlike every Game store I've ever been in it doesn't smell so bad that you gag when you walk in. Unfortunately, I completely forgot his girlfriend who was sitting next to him works in Game. I've done much worse though, some of which I'm too embarrassed to write down. If you want to know ask me about the drunk guy at the Who gig. We can go to hell together.

We had quite a few drinks in the Old Market, Kettering's most alternative alternative pub. Although maybe I need to re-evaluate that, because for at least two hours it was, erm, 'eclectic', at one point pulling out the Hammer & Ice combo of 'Can't Touch This' followed by 'Ice Ice Baby'. The audacity. And there was also a complete pub sing along of Chas & Dave's 'Rabbit', which was beauty in its purist form.

I'm too tired to write anymore, I'm almost 27 don't you know?