Long time, no updatey!
Well, I havent updated in ages, cos...well I havent really had a whole load to talk about in quite a while, so I figured that as I now do, and also have a little time spair, I would...so I am.
Im not going to talk about life, cos frankly its really not worth talking about particularly at the moment. However I HAVE had a couple of fun weekends, one going back home and seeing the guys, one going to Oxford to meet Xyla and a few other CoEers. Now, Im not a good tourist, nor a good photographer, so if youre coming here expecting to see anything decent, youre going to be sadly dissappointed.
First thing, went back to Sunderland, havent seen any of the lads for about 9 weeks and havent had a good old night out in just as long, so it was an emotional reuinion. Not that Im saying that there were any tears or anything, cos we're like...manly men, you know that right?
The guys were 'impressed' by my fantastic mullet, I havent had my hair cut in at least 4-5 months now, its a disgrace.
Here is a picture of me and the boys at Simpson's fiance's child's (hows about that?!?) birthday party, which we attended at about 1pm...and look! Theres drinks in some of the boys hands already...thats sick. Me, Im classier than those chumps, I didnt want to drink AND go on the bouncy castle at the same time.
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In order, Simpson, Mik Nelson, Philly, Bri.
After we'd helped demolish the buffet and helped escort some unruly 6 year olds off the premises, we went quite predictably, on a heavy drinking session the likes of which I havent seen in a long time. We ended up in Innfussion, an old regular haunt of ours where the treble vodkas are alarmingly cheap, not like those crazy Oxford prices (screw you Oxford!) . Now, what I must explain to you is the fact that me and Philly have some stupid things that we do WAY too often. The street outside of Innfussion that leads to Beach (which is where we generally end up at the end of the night), we always drunkenly dance up the back of that street. Which is fun because taxi drivers drive past and toot their horns at us, and the people sitting in the restaraunts in that street must think "WTF!?! Its those stupid dancing bastards again!", which is always a cool way to be remembered. Another thing that we do is to deliberately not smile on occassional photos. The reason being that we think people who dont know us would be looking at the photos thinking "Look at those two miserable losers! What a terrible night they must be having" when of course the truth is anything but.
So here's a picture of Michael Eustace Nelson and Philly doing the "No smile" pose:
You might note that Philly does seem to be trying to grab my ass behind my back there, who can blame him? I always say!
I dont remember a whole lot about that night. Seem to remember climbing over some walls to get home and waking up with my shirt still on...that happens far too much. Clearly Id been getting undressed and thought "Meh, screw this, all these buttons seem like far too much effort", its a good philosophy to take to getting undressed in my opinion, you should all try it.
So, from here I got the 6 hour coach back to Milton Keynes where I now live, almost dying on the way back of tiredness, starvation, hungoverness and the slow monotonous bump-bump-bumping of the wheels on the bus as they went round and round, round and round, round and round. The wheels on the bus as they went round and round, all-day-long!
Then, the next weekend, an excellent fun-packed trip to Oxford. After arguing with no less than TWO bus drivers over who knew their job better, me or them (The answer undoubtedly was ME) I then sat on another bus for a couple of hours to get to Oxford waaay later than I planned. Which meant that I wasnt able to meet up with Xyla in case she got lost, which was probably for the best as an Australian in Oxford can find her way around Oxford ridiculously easier than an Englishman named Mik who has been to Oxford a few times...and is USELESS.
So when I did finally get there, I met up with THIS young lady:
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Who is Elainiel from CoE, who shall here-forth be referred to as Vic...cos thats her name. We were supposed to be staying at the same B&B, so on paper it did make sense for her to meet me at the bus station and for us to go to the B&B together, get ready, then find out way to the restaraunt where we were supposed to be meeting the others. Oh how fun these plans are when put into practise.
We drove around for about an hour looking for our B&B, finally got there to find that we'd booked a place at the Bates Motel and Norman was Jonesing for another kill. By the time we'd sorted out rooms out we were just in time to get the least Oxford knowledgeable taxi driver in the WORLD to take us to the restaraunt where we met the rest of the folks.
EVERYONE there was lovely, literally, it was a fun time and all of the guys were great company. The meal was nice and the conversation was always fun and free-flowing. But personally, I just kinda wanted to get a pint down my neck. So it was with great relief and dare I say it...a little mirth that we moved on from the restaraunt to the least 'quiet' quiet little pub Ive ever seen. Elwen is a bit of an expert about Oxford, which made for more fun in the tourism the next day than I ever thought possible. So when she suggested this little quiet pub where we could have a chat. I did not expect it to be so packed to the rafters that people were just aiming to find standing space.
Anyhoo, as is the way, we all sat drinking and chatting until some loser drunks decided to bump into the conversation.
If I can say one thing about Xyla, its that she's stunningly gorgeous. So dont listen to anything she ever says about not being so, she really is so nice and charming and beautiful that its ridiculous that the Australian guys havent killed themselves trying to get to her by now. However, if I can say another thing, its that she attracts the attention of the most weird, loserish drunks I think that Ive ever seen. Anyway, we wont hold that against her.
After that place we moved onto a jazz-club place, which at least let us sit down, chat and drink a bit. It also gave us the opportunity to find/be given/be thrown as if a target, some flourescent halos. Which needless to say were passed to Vic and Xyla, the two angels of Oxford. Here they are sat with some scruffy looking guy who badly needs a haircut:
In that place, Xyla got approached by a couple more drunks, who she was very polite with I must say. I dont know what it is with guys in places like Oxford, no brains, no control and no idea when theyre out of their league. I mean seriously, if you were smashed, stupid and stumbling, would you automatically think..."OH! I know! THIS girl must be interested in talking to me"?
Na. Me either!
Anyhoo, the next day we did the tourism of Oxford thing, which Im sure that youll probably have seen on Jules' LJ. And that was that. Me, Vic (who is also absolutely awesome btw) and Jules took our leave from the other guys and Jules caught her train home, I got my bus home and Vic drove home...never to see each other, ever again :(. I wont say that I cried, because I didnt. But if I had done, theyd have been manly tears of sorrowful joy and Id have spilled them plentifully across the coach and throughout my journey, like a whale when it finds that it has lost one of its young. But I didnt, cos I imagine that Ill see them again! :D
Thats my story. Now feel free to make fun of my hair.
Looks like youll have to click on the pictures btw, Im really not technologically minded.