I start this blog with a tribute to CACTUS JACK’S (£5.99 from my local shop)a quite ingenious schnapps sure to tickle the tastebuds. In my opinion any drink with the word cactus in the title has to be worth a sip; so I suggest to you loyal reader, indulge in some on a warm summers eve, you are sure to gain some looks as you down bright red liquid and pull a face like you have sat on a cactus itself.
As Tuesday draws to a close, so does the glimpse of summer that fell upon Leeds. Back to layers, sweaters, and woolly cardigans for me to protect my frozen bones. However since my last blog it has been fun and frolics. I start with Sunday…… I decided to stick to my plan of getting drunk in Hyde Park, however felt doing it alone was verging on alcoholism; so I called upon the services of my good friend Jordan. Before I knew it the shorts were on, the sleeves were off, and the cider was chilled.I flung my still damp towel into my bag and leapt out into the sun, letting it toast my pale skin red.(my towel this week has served as both beach mat and bathing assitant, but as of yet still lacks the ability to dry itself) The massing crowds of Hyde Park were calling to us, and I felt a small tingle as we climbed the hill to our destination, the tingle, that summer was here! A wave of nostalgia came over me, remembering when me, my brother, and my sister would sit out on the lawn under the patio umbrella we had pulled down, and read Goosebumps books; it has been so long since I have read a book, I now fear Goosebumps may be above my reading level. But I digress…..
There is something about us Brits, as soon as the sun creaks through the clouds we fly into a frenzy, desperately grasping at every inch of sun we can find. I’ve seen you, moving the lounger around throughout the day until you end up confined to a small corner of the garden, surrounded in shadow. However I am not one of these sun worshippers, I am there for the ambience, very little beats drinking a cider black in Hyde Park,surrounded by students, and good weather. I stuck to the bitter end, even when the masses began to leave, and theclouds took over I stood my ground; the i-pod and alcohol would keep me warm.
Refer back to my last post, I mentioned the dreaded Park Patrol, well on Sunday they reared their fearsome head once more. As soon as the small whisps of a barbeque went up,the low rumble of a golf buggy could be heard, roaring over the horizon they came, water pump clutched tight in their hands. Just like the clouds they seemed destined to ruin a lovely day, the power had clearly gone to their head. I couldn’t help but laugh as a group of girls downheartedly hung their heads in shame, forced to eat half cooked meat, ended before its time; the park patrol let out a smirk, pissing all over their parade with the mighty water pump.
The evening brought pizza, coleslaw and the dreaded CACTUS JACK’S, the latter causing me to spill the first two all over myself. A rather perculiar evening, washed down with the film Music and Lyrics, the kind of lovefest I would usually hate:
Hugh Grant plays a washed up popstar who falls in love with the woman who waters his plants (Drew Barrymore), he writes a love song for a trendy Gaga-esque singer, but ultimately chooses Drew over saving his career (BLERGH)
That was exaclty what I thought, but in my drunken state didn’t realise I had seen it before and quite enjoyed it. Annoyingly I found the songs firmly stuck in my head, forcing me to hum them in the shower, so I thought I would share that annoyance with you lovely people.
For those more sentimental among you
The past few days have set me well on my way to obesity, this morning’s breakfast saw me once again reaching for the easter supplies. A well balanced breakfast of chocolate shell and mini eggs to start the day; how proud my mother would be. To top this I have already had not one, but two meals out; I am fast becoming lad who lunches. I put on my scavenging hat and scrawled the internet for a half price bonanza. Monday was the treats of the Slug and Lettuce mezzee platter, whisking myself to Spain or somewhere with every bite of the fried stuffed peppers. Unfortunately my usual Slug and Lettuce crowd weren’t there so a game of “spin the rib” wasn’t on the cards. The rules are quite simple, spin the bottle, with no actual kissing, a giant empty food platter, and a half chewed BBQ rib; the end result is general stupidity, and bones flying off the table.
Today I went all french with a chicken, cranberry, and camembert burger, from the Gourmet Burger Kitchen. Being fruitful students, this is normally the haunt of our course nights out; who can argue with two burgers and fries for £10. It looked strangely sparce without 30 journalists taking up the floor space and fighting over whose burger was whose. I also didn’t have to ram chips down my throat as I wasn’t sharing with Francine, we are fiercely competative over who has eaten the most chips, forcing us to eat them in one go! But the belly busting didn’t end there, the lure of Millies Cookies was too strong, the offer of 12 cookies for the price of 6 was too much to handle, causing a foodgasm is my mouth.
Jordan Cockcroft won’t be staying again, as I have decided he has a bad influence on my waistline…..
This brings me bang up to date with now, spread eagled on my bed, jeans undone, stomach spilling out,and moaning in agony. The food in my fridge is calling to be eaten before it pops its clogs, but I think a simple dinner of a plum, and some milk is in order. I will sit with my healty dinner, and watch celebrities dine on a gingerbread house in Heston’s Fairytale Feast, perhaps their gluttony will make me feel better about mine.