Watching Pokemon in bed

Life is good =]


3am drag artist

Two bloodshot eyes hanging with punchbags underneath, the reminder of the night from hell I was subjected to last night. Apparently the walls on Mayville Street are constructed of paper, and the house from the road behind made good use of it. I am a great fan of Hot Chip, but unfortunately not when I hear “Over and Over” OVER AND OVER in the wee hours of the morning.

Hot Chip- Over and Over (Naum Gobo remix)

Despite the annoyance I have to admit there were several funny conversations, I could compile a dossier on my rear neighbours based on what I heard last night, names, what course they do, plans for the week…. even when they last had sex. So people of Mayville Place look out, me and my blackmail booklet will be coming to find you if there is another repeat of last night. My feeble attempt at hammering on the wall only provoked excitement, prompting them to bang along with the rythmn of the music and hurl abuse through the brickwork. They even had the decency to leave the music blaring full blast for me to enjoy, as they spent half an hour out the house, at the Co-op. This brings me onto the title of the blog…. 3 am drag artist?! The only boy in the group, ‘Danny’ as I believe, made the drunken decision to try on ladies clothing, while I admit to dabbling in it for fancy dress, it is not my first choice of attire, and one I am sure he will regret. I could hear him posing and pouting for his pictures, I conjoured up the image of a smarmy greaseball ;however this was as close as he would be to getting in a ladies knickers, he reliably informed everyone he hasn’t had sex for 2 months…. maybe it is your willingness to dress as a woman Danny?

I tossed and turned, bouncing in my bed on the broken slats,trying to find a more comfortable way to block out the noise:

(spread eagled, covers off, covers on, on my back, on my front, upside down, pillows on head)

I eventually resorted to counting sheep; like fluffy clouds they jumped over wooden fences, and I gently followed them for a peaceful recharge of my batteries.

Early to bed, early to rise, late to bed, late to rise. I won’t reveal what time I woke up, but it is safe to say it was nearing the afternoon, and it was time to lock heads in a furious ethical discussion. As we entered the room, late, it looked oddly empty; the usual class of about 20 had been whittled down to just 8 hardcore students. The volcano had claimed some, and as for the rest, deadlines… or just plain avoidance? As the room heated I began to wish I had chosen the last option, we regurgitated the usual opinions on racism and a journalists duty, but I found myself distracted. It is a sad state of affairs when you would rather watch two fat bald builders plant a tree, than participate in your own education.

I am fast considering just turning this into a food blog, 90% of my posts seem to be related to food in some way or another. As I sit here now I am in fact covered in chocolate. Smeared across my favourite blue polo are the remains of a Cadbury chocolate sponge, I lack the motor skills of a fully developed adult. I sat in my armchair and once again marvelled at Heston’s success; however I am not sure on a savory curry ice cream, or duck liver arctic roll. I most enjoyed his camel” Humpy meal”, but was disappointed over his lack of toy; I remember the days when happy meals were great, the toy would tie in with a Disney film, or you got a “Beanie Baby.Secondly, today has been quite the culinary adventure, I have been bullied into joining the food soc, taking my love of food to a whole new level. Perhaps I will become like Julie from “Julie & Julia,” blogging about all my food related adventures and becoming famous;perhaps I will write a cookery book, or learn how to bone a duck ( no you sick minded people, it means removing the bones and cooking it!) All I know is that tommorow we are taking a trip to France, in the form of a french bistro in town. 3 courses £16.95, beret not included; I am half contemplating drawing on a curly moustache and seeing what the reaction of my new food friends would be. I could even wear my stripey top, doubling up as both nautical and french themed. I have spent many years making fun on my french friend Lucy, so I will be sure not to inform my new embrace of her culture, to me she is still a baguette!

Fingers crossed tonight will bring a more restful sleep; all quiet on the western front at the moment, lets just hope it stays that way, otherwise I may have to combine food and sleep, and invent some hamburger earmuffs.

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