Gun - Word Up

Gun's version of Word up has to be one of my favorite songs ever.

I dont know why, summit about the energy behind it MAKES YOU Aair Guiter.

Check out the Youtube vid

Merry Christmas!

Well I hope you all had a good Christmas!

Mine was unfortunately lacking in alcohol, but that is the price I pay for not having legs of pure iron.

My presents were rather random. I'm not sure what logic was behind the blender, but I am sure future vodka and fruit related hilarities will ensue shortly.

Work is at its best around thsi time of year, come in late, leave early, take an extended lunch. Not surprisingly with this relaxed working environment I get twice as much done, as opposed to when I roll out of bed while its dark, feel like shite all day then go and drink myself into a recuperative stupor on a night.

I was talking to the woman from france the other night, she is pretty funny and I get on with her pretty well. My flat mates responses to this news were along the lines of -

'when are you going to fuck her'
'dont talk about deciding whether you like her or not and fuck her already'

I really do need to regain some state of manliness back, I might ahve to give some of my old fuck buddies a call.

Will see how it goes with the french girl first though, when she says oo la la My libido goes into overdrive.

Facebook!

Facebook seems to be a hot topic, so I thoght I would jump on the bandwagon and write a quick post about it.

I have to admit I am addicted to facebook. I keep finding old mates from my past who I have lost touch with over the years, have had a few drinking sessions with people who I ahve not seen in years and have been able to laugh as some of the more docile of my aged school friends have managed to get some bird pregnant and are living in a council estate somewhere.

There is a dark side though, I do have a couple of random people who keep trying to add me, and it gets worse.

Ugly people.

I have had a worrying number of ugly people add me as friends recently, while I have nothing particular against these uggos it leaves me in the unfortunate position of looking like I associate with these people.

I am a surprisingly caring man, but if being associated with these uggos makes a fit woman deem me too lowly for her standards im gonna delete them faster than a cheetah on cocaine.

It seems

It looks like my Ex has fallen for someone else. A bit of a ball ache to put it bluntly.

It's strange that I have moved through life barely caring for other people, most of my previous girlfriends have been flashes in the pan, I got bored quickly and got shot.

Then along comes this Aussie girl, I dont know what it was about her. I loved her for exactly who she was. She wasn't perfect, she was better than perfect, she wasnt the prettiest, but she was the most beautiful.

And due to my own fuck up its all over.

She also seems to have turned me into a big girl.

Merry Festive Season

So another Chr... festive season is upon us. Due to the possibility of offending some people with the mere mention of the word Christmas I have received several cards this year, most of them no more christmassy than 'seasons greetings'. This bloody annoys me because Christmas is a very British thing. The turkey the tree and the uneaten sprouts are a mainstay of Brisish culture, and it is a shame to see PC madness remove them from our life.

Not to mention we are now having to deal with snowpeople being made in the street, songs such as White Christmas being branded racially insensitive (usually by white people) and snowball fights being banned by schools antionwide due to the miniscule chance of injury. (Unless your in Leeds, then the broken glass, syringes and purposely inserted razor blades add a new edge of excitement ot the game)

Now, quite surprisingly I do like a good Christmas, from the heavily decorated tree to the copious amounts of luscious food, I enjoy watching other people prepare it all. But seriosuly, I love Christmas. I keep thinking about how things would be if I was still with the ex, I really do wish we hadn't split up, and I would have liked to have spent Christmas with her. But things happen I suppose. I have been talking to this French girl, she seems really sweet, plus when she says 'ooh la la' my knees go weak. The annoying thing is though that sweet as she is, she isn't the one im thinking of before I go to sleep. Dont know whats up with me but I will get over it soon enough.

I would like to get to know French Girl a bit better, she seems really sweet and funny, but I get the feeling that it wouldn't work out. Her english while good is not 100%, and my Yorksherian can be hard to understand even for born and bred Englishme.. English People. The problem is though I slipped past what is best called 'single mode' and went straight into Bachelor mode. This meant my room became unsuitable to bring any woman back to, even missus claus, a woman who has lived the last 1000 years on brandy and mince pies, would be loathe to touch me in my current squallid apartment. In otherwords my room is now definately a place that is 'lived in', by the looks of it by several homeless persons.

What doesn't make it any better is that I cannot tidy it up due to crippling myself in a football game (Quite a violent injury, need an MRI scan and with be on cripple sticks for the next 2 monthsish) This means that even if I do make a move on the Cute French Girl (CFG) I will be unable to bring her back to mine.

Just to top matters off I realised today my mum who had kindly given me several bottles of coe and lemonade also put in the bag a bottle of milk, a gass bottle, with a tin foil cap.

Needless to say when I lifted the bag up today after a week of it stewing in my room what could be kindly referred to as cheese and water fell through the bottom of the bag and onto me. Tonights fantastic activities will include such magnificent events such as scrubbing, scrubbing and showering.

So samurai swords have been banned.

This kind of annoys me, especially when I read two things.

Home Office Minister Vernon Coaker said: "Public safety is our greatest priority. Samurai sword crime is low in volume, but high in profile and I recognise it can have a devastating impact in the wrong hands."

So first things first, he admits samurai sword crimes are low volume, infact incredibly low volume compared to other weapon crimes which account for tens of thousands for EACH weapon per year. Samurai swords comparatively are owned by more people than dangerous knives, and there have only been 80 crimes in what can only be quoted by the press as 'recent years' which leads me to believe this is a shadow word for a number so high the press don't want to talk about it. Most probably because the number would both embarrass them and make the story seem irrelevant.

"An estimated 80 attacks involving cheap, imitation samurai swords have been recorded in recent years, and at least six people have died in those incidents."

Again with the misleading text, a least 6 people? please as if you would put such an exact number if you did not know the figures. SIX people have died. Talk about blatant propaganda.

Obviously I would prefer this number to be lower, but I doubt the kind of person who would commit this kind of crime would be deterred by not having the sword. Lets face it. If a man would go after someone with a samurai sword he is just as likely to do it with a kitchen knife or a hammer. This law is just another red tape infringement that has been put in place purely so some political knob cheese has some 'cause' to give him some publicity.

I hate the fucking self obsessed, self righteous and self promoting fuckwits who are in charge of this country. All politicians should be removed and replaced with people from the various working classes. I don't see how somebody can only ever be trained in politics and expect to have any possible kind of view of the world.

Instead they work off pure statistics, which while useful should only ever be used as an aid. Statistics are very rarely 100% accurate, especially when you have a myriad of government layers adjusting how they are portrayed to make themselves look better.

The result of following our current path has left us with few real people in our supposed leadership. They have destroyed our benefits system, catering it to the dole scroungers rather than using it as a system to help people get back into work. They are slowly removing benefits that were once intrinsic to British life, even the NHS is now turning into a farce, when once it was a highlight of the British power. They constantly chase minor unimportant issues, despite the fact our country is on the brink of a severe economic depression, all so each man can one up the others for some minor semblance of power.

We need a new party.

Congratulations Perverts

I have literally pulled in 12 visits from the perverts looking for 'Two Vaginas'

Congratulations you twisted sick fuck, while you may glorify in your perverse fucked up fantasies you have been fooled!

There are no pictures of women with extra orifices here, infact there are not even pictures of single vaginas (Though I have been tempted to add some)

So to all you deformation loving wankers I raise my middle finger at you.

EU Quizes women on their personal sex life.

I have just read this story.

I personally like this new EU policy to quiz all women on their sexual history. Think of the benefits if this information became freely available!

You are out for the night, you meet a girl, and with mobile t'interweb you could find out what your chances of getting lucky where instantly!

Then on the other hand you have relationships, is your girlfriend a slut, has she been shagging about or is she infact a lesbian?

All these questions and more could be answered, if this comes to a vote im so putting my name down for yes.

Ouch

So I have injured myself again playing football this year, not an auspicios start I have to admit.

This time it is my knee, the basic problem is the bottom part of my leg was pulled about an inch away from the top part of my leg, stretching the ligament and pulling a sizable chunk of bone off my knee. It hurt a bit. For those who know their knees, the Ligament was the Medial Collateral Ligament, found on the side of the knee facing my other leg.

The NHS strapped it up and advised me to wait a week and a half for a consultant. I know people who have had similar injuries, mostly from rugby, around 40 years ago and said the NHS would ahve instantly screwed the bone into teh correct position in those days. This time around however I will have to have the bone knocked off where it has started to heal (In the wrong place) If they think its worth ioperating on at all when they could leave me with a servicable, but incredibly weak knee, causing problems for the rest of my life.

In with the Works Private Healthcare Scheme!

Have to figure out the basics and then see if i can get my claim made, I will most likely need an operation along with shed loads of physio.

The worst part of all this is twofold, first I missed an opportunity for drinks with this cute french lass I met, dont think im ready for another relationship just yet, but it would be nice to know the opportunity was there.

The second part is my snowboarding trip to Andora is most definately off. I cannot at this moment in time lift my leg, since I would be steering normally with this appendage chance are slim that I would successfuly navigate a mountain.

I was thinking I could have got some work done while I was off on sick leave trying to get my leg to heal a bit, thsi was stopped by three major things, my inabilty to stay out of bed, pain and most importantly the painkillers, which are most fantastic in their ability to numb my brain, leaving me with a Paris Hilton like view on the world around me.

To Bomb or Not to Bomb, That is the Question.

I was just posting a comment on Mr Angry's (Real name of Kennith me thinks) blog about the whole teacher prisoned for naming a teddybear mohammed fiasco. Personally I dont see what the problem is, the woman is bloody ugly, She should be locked up for failing to get plastic surgery at the age of 12.

But as I went to post about possible bomb threats against Mr A I realised something. In a moment of pure genius I realised how we could end the threat of mombs and suicide bombs in the Uk.

Yes thats right, an end to global terrorism from islamic militants. Simply affix statues, images
or similar to your house and any possible threat will be removed.

After all if someone blows up the image of mohammed they will be commiting sacrelige, which means no heaven, women (Virgins or otherwise). Where once htey would have gone to heavena martyr they will now be cast down into hell as a destroyer of belief.

Feel free to bow down to my genius now, while affixing a mohammed statue to your posterior to avoid any angry bomber taking advantage of worship of false idols.

Wonderbra Girl vs Cadburries Gorrila on Youtube (You Tube)

A mate of mine sent me this on You Tube, yu have to have seen the gorilla ad from cadburies to get the joke, but if you havn't, well the girls damn hot anyway!



Out of the two I have to pick the wonderbra girl, thak you Youtube for the joys you bring!


youtube

In Sickness and in Health

Well it's officially christmas, half the office of sick, the other half is on holiday. This means that I am left here sat at my desk on my own.

Anyone else would have gone home hours ago, or probably just not come in at all. But I am dedicated, industrious and what else was it, ah yes, stupid.

I have a bit of a cold at the moment, not really enough to qualify going off sick, but it seems to be what everyone else has and THEY have taken it off, the day that is. So when should you call in sick?

Personally I think its when you know you feel too ill, when you will just be sat at the office all day wishing you where in bed and no doing much in the way of work. The chances are if you go to work while you are ill you will pass the illness on to at least 2 more people, one of those will take the next day of fthe other one will come to work, then there will be two of you infecting two more people, and so it continues.

Recently a wave of gastroenteritis has hit York.

If you dont know what gastroenteritis is let me explain, firstly it is not a specific disease. It does basically mean stomach infection. There are bad ones though.

Take the Terminator films.

In the first film you had Arnie, slow, but unstoppable and slightly painful when he tried to act. This is your normal run of the mill stomach bug.

Then you have the third Terminator, actually no make that the second. While the third one does send you all around the toilets Gastro is not quite so hot naked. Take the second film. The evil guy in that was much stronger, survives pretty much everything you throw at it and beats the fucking crap out of you.

While he did not make anusses (anii?) feel raw in the film he did look a little bit camp in my eyes, you never know I guess.

So when I had gastroenteritis earlier this year I felt fully justified in taking the time of work, it is a highly comunicable disease and several times i was doubled up in pain due to stomach cramps. Doesnt look too professional in the old office.

Foie Gras Campaigners

Hypocracy is incredibly prevailent in todays soft touch society. Most recently it seems to have come to the fore in York. Certain Foie Gras Campaigners have been fighting to stop the product being sold in York, desptite their best efforts they are failing because of an EU law preventing bans on imports and exports.

Thank Fuck

What really gets me is they are trying to prevent our decision to eat what we want, a purely fascist move. They then go on to complain about how WE oppress THEM by complaining about their protests. They then go on to calling us fascists, despite they are the ones trying to confine the majorities eating habbits.

This really fucking annoys me.

So how has this come about?

Its the simple fact that most of these protesters have never seen a farm, they have never spent 2 hours chasing around chicken (which are deviously cunning and also, surprisingly, can fight back)

They do not infact have any idea about life on a farm, how animals respond to life on the farm, or even how they are treated. Instead all they are given is heap upon heap of propaganda by the animal rights campaigners, usually with pictures from a one off farm that is run poorly. While animal rights campainers claim several closed farms as victories over ill treatment of animals. The truth of the matter is that most farms that mistreat animals, especially in the foie gras industry where the health of the animals is more fragile, close down anyway.

All businesses need to make money, the figures the animal right groups quote go as high as 20x the fatality rate of other farms. After a quick look at the normal fatality rate on farms you would be looking at 4 out of 5 animals dieing before they reach maturity. No business could survive on these odds.

The fact that they are going for a soft target such as foie gras just to give themselves ane go boost really fucking annoys me.

Two Vaginas

I have noticed a worrying trend while analysing my web stats. I have a consistent, regular and all over worryingly high number of visitors who search for phrases including the words 'three testicles' This is most likely to do with my post entitled Il have kidney, liver and three testicals.

Therefore I have decided to name this post Two Vaginas, im not fussy about the kind of visitors I receive at the moment, hell ild just be happy to receive a visitor. So to the sick bastard who is hoping for a mutated woman who could quite possibly be on the blob for TWO WEEKS! out of the month, you have been mislead into increasing my hit count by one, I think I speak for all when I say Mwoahaahahahaha.

In other news I have been off alcohol for two weeks now with only two exceptions. First off was the success of our pub quiz team, this entitled each of our members to a free pint, huzzah. No man could turn this down.

The second was when my flat mate snuck some vodka into my coke, I thought it tasted funny. I think he wanted to get me relaxed a bit for introduction to one of his, admittedly quite fit mates, unfortunately im still reeling from the break up of a 7 month relationship. This left me not really wanting to be chatting up the girl and completely lacking in my random patter which is the staple base of any good chat up. She had a cute brunette mate though, much more my type at the moment, I went off the dolled up look a long time ago.

It seems kind of weird. I used to love the long legged blondes, would chase them to hell and back. This lasted so long that even now when people ask what kind of girls I like, my automatic reaction is just to say tall blondes. This was a bit of a sticking point with me and my ex, I told her blondes, just when she asked I replied automatically, and how do you change your mind on a subject like that with your then girlfriend?

She mentioned several times how she was not my type, when she infact was. Maybe I should have corrected myself, but it would have looked too much like I was schmoozing. I like women who are naturally beautiful, not dolled up, just perfect the way they are.

Although cute brunettes do do it for me. I think its the eyes, I fucking love eyes, I don't know why.

I could go into a rant similar to Jeff of coupling here, 'but I don't collect eyes, its not like I have an eye bucket or anything, that would be mental' But the fact of the matter is when I looked into my ex's eyes my heart melted. Damn im a soft touch, another casualty to the new found world of metro sexuality. Again the ex's fault, I never used to be this much of a pussy.

Think that's today's ramble over.

Footy.

So we have got knocked out of the qualifiers.

Yes England have yet again performed like utter shite in front of the whole world while playing football.

Beckham who refuses to run to a ball more than a yard away, even when he watches it sail towards him, was useless on the field since Gerrard was playing at his worst, his passes flying over their mark.

Our defence was in utter confusion and our keeper, bless him, waved the first goal in.

As the game ended the players left with not the slightest show of remorse for their horrific failure. Their inability to get us into the qualifiers should have invoked some passionate cry, a tear or at least a storming off. What happens? Nothing. No reaction, no care. Those players will now go home to their £7 million mansion, and book a 2 month vacation to a sunny island somewhere.

Croatia however seemed ecstatic. Their manager did not sit under an umbrella looking glum and protecting his hair. He jumped about, told the players what to do, shouted when they were shit. Their players where enthusiastic and energetic, running circles around our 'couldn't give a toss' team.

McLaren is taking the fall for this, don't get me wrong I believe he is a piss poor manager. However I do believe it is the fault of the FA, who in their true style of overpaid public schoolboy detached from the world politically correct wankers got rid of our good managers on fucking unrelated grounds. Venables was a fantastic leader for our team, yet he got the chop for what? being a dodgy geezer?. Glenn Hoddle expressed his personal beliefs, he gets the sac. What the fuck has his personal opinion on non football related matters got to do with his management of a football team? If Campbell hadn't had his goal disallowed against Argentina he would have been the national hero.

Yes in my opinion the people who are actually in charge should take the blame. They sit in their office on inflated salaries, completely out of touch with the nature of the game. They stopped thinking about the game, instead the wankers started following things like public perception, something that is always off the mark, think of what the government thinks our perception is and it wont take you long to realise that the FA should be managed by the fans, not a board of directors.

These twats who have softened football, helped in making the slightest touch a foul, removed the best management because they have controversial views on subjects nothing to do with football (Not their place) and seem intent on destroying football in the cause of making money should in my opinion be removed from the game.

My boss had a brilliant idea. Take the money out of football.

If everyone stopped supporting the major teams and started watching lower league football the FA would son be out of cash.

Don't watch the games, don't visit the clubs.

It wont take long for the 'big money' clubs to lose out, lose the highly paid 'don't give a shit' players and bring in the players with vision, those who are passionate about playing for their club and for their country. Bring back the game where people are playing for their city rather than playing for the cash.

Theres not much I can do, I support Leeds so its not exactly a big money club, more like a minus money club. But would anyone from the big money clubs be willing to boycott their team for the good of the sport?

Coffee Dilema

I get the feeling I am becoming paranoid.

Im sure when I first started working in an office machine cups of coffee where at least mildly satisfying. You could smell the sweet aroma of caffine, the froth was a light dusting over the top .

Now however the cups seem smaller, the froth fills nearly a quater of the cup and instead of caffine all that can be smelt as an acrid chemically smell, mixed slightly with the cheapened burning plastic.

Of course its not surprising, and maybe its not just paranoia. Tighter financial constraints, some suppliers offering cheaper and cheaper dispensable coffee as the cut costs everywhere.

In 3 years time it will be a small cup with a drop of coffee scented water in the bottom.

Moving On

I have had some trouble getting over the relationship. Its not been easy to get a girl out of my head who was part of my life for nearly 8 months (On and off)

I wish it had not ended, it was partly my fault, I took what I heard too much at face value.

I wish we could get back together, but it couldn't happen. She wants to leave York now, shes told her company she is looking for a new job somewhere else. I would need to spend more time with her, to know that we could go somewhere and not break up over something stupid in a whole new place.

I would have moved to be with her.

I wont move to lose her and all my friends.

Its been a weird week, I've not been drinking, coffee has been off but (drinking) cokes replaced beer.

The best I can do is move on, not to another relationship just yet, but back to a normal life.

I will miss her, how she felt in my arms, her cheeky smile and her beautiful eyes. She had a personality spot on for who I wanted. I felt right with her.

Eventually I will find someone else, I dont know who or when but wounds heal as time passes. I wont

Another Update

Just for my occasional readers.

I am now single, Me and the ex are not on bad terms but there were problems which drove an irreversable gap between our relationship.

Due to getting depressed, dull and boring after having a couple of pints, not helped by the recent bout of gastroenteitis, I have quite the booze for a few weeks. I recon giving my liver a few weeks to recover cant be a bad thing. I was on a 2 can minimum on a night plus 2-3 weekly binges.

I have been working on another of my projects, http://www.thisisaffiliate.com with its subdomain http://affiliatetools.thisisaffiliate.com

Im back playing football, missed it quite a lot so im glad to be back on the field.

Im off to Andora for a week in January, I cant really afford it but might as well while im young.

While in Andora I will be learning to snowboard, I will be doing this in the time honoured way of getting a lift to the top of a mountain and flinging myself down it. I could have gone skiing, but I want to try something new while im there.

I am planning to go to Munich for a week, maybe two with a trip to Berlin sometime during summer. Munich has got to be one of the most fantastic cities I visited on my trip to europe so I look forward to being able to explore it fully. In preperation I have started to learn German, slowly.

Anyhow, thats my life at the moment, I wil be continuing my story of the european road trip soon, but my memory of the trip is getting a little hazy now, I might have left it too long.

Just when you thought tehy couldn't get any more stupid.

The following story was in a Manchester Newspaper

A LOTTERY scratchcard has been withdrawn from sale by Camelot - because players couldn't understand it.

The Cool Cash game - launched on Monday - was taken out of shops yesterday after some players failed to grasp whether or not they had won.

To qualify for a prize, users had to scratch away a window to reveal a
temperature lower than the figure displayed on each card. As the game
had a winter theme, the temperature was usually below freezing.

But the concept of comparing negative numbers proved too difficult for some Camelot received dozens of complaints on the first day from players who could not understand how, for example, -5 is higher than -6.

Tina Farrell, from Levenshulme, called Camelot after failing to win with several cards.

The 23-year-old, who said she had left school without a maths GCSE,

said: "On one of my cards it said I had to find temperatures lower than -8.

The numbers I uncovered were -6 and -7 so I thought I had won, and so did the woman in the shop. But when she scanned the card the machine said I hadn't.

"I phoned Camelot and they fobbed me off with some story that -6 is
higher - not lower - than -8 but I'm not having it.

"I think Camelot are giving people the wrong impression - the card
doesn't say to look for a colder or warmer temperature, it says to look for a higher or lower number. Six is a lower number than 8. Imagine how many people have been misled."

A Camelot spokeswoman said the game was withdrawn after reports that some players had not understood the concept.

She said: "The instructions for playing the Cool Cash scratchcard are clear - and are printed on each individual card and in the game
procedures available at each retailer. However, because of the potential for player confusion we have decided to withdraw the game."

More than 15m adults in Britain have poor numeracy - the equivalent of a G or below at GCSE maths

Almost three times as many UK adults (15.1m) have poor numeracy - the equivalent of a G or below at GCSE maths - than with poor literacy skills, according to the government's Skills for Life survey.

Peter Hall, of the Association of Teachers of Mathematics, said: "The concept of minus numbers is something we would cover with 11 or 12 year olds, and we would expect them to have come across it before.

"The concept of smaller numbers is something that some people do seem to struggle with. Seven is clearly smaller than eight, so they focus on that and don't really see the minus sign. There is also a subtle difference in language between smaller - or lower - and colder. The number zero feels lower.

"There have always been some people who find numbers and basic
mathematics difficult. Maybe in the past it was less noticeable because people could find jobs they could excel in without having qualifications in maths."

I didnt believe this was a real story at first, I mean how thick must you be to realise that -6 is a higher number than -8??

Not only that but she continued to argue the point AFTER it had been explained to her, what a fucking retard. Next they will be pulling crosswords out of newspapers because the chavs answeres dont fit in the right number of white boxes.

Personally I think the national lottery is insane for pulling this game just because some peolpe don't even have the very basics of numeracy, I mean being thick is bad enough but this woman cant even count. Perhaps having a disclaimer along the lines of 'must have an IQ greater than 5 (That means not 1, 2, 3, 4 or 5) would be useful.

God I hate fucking layabout chavs.

Life So Far

Life has been a bit hectic in York recently, I have just broken up with the on again off again girlfriend for good this time. It did kind of get to me, shes a fantastic girl and all. This time however there was a difference, a friend of mine overheard a conversation by one of her mates about what Anj had been saying about the relationship. All in all it wasnt good.

On top of that I have been working tirelessly to get some new websites up and running. My current aim is to get some of my amazon stores up and running along with a few of my smaller websites to try and get a bit of residaul income through.

Good news though!

I am planning on going to Andora in January for a week for a snowboarding holiday!

My skiing skills were pretty good, unfortunately I have never snowboarded in my life. So in 2 months time im going to strap a board to my feet and chuck myself down a mountain, hopefully I wont break anything.

Just to let you know, I have just set up a Lonely Planet Guide Book store, you can take a look at http://lonelyplanet.evolutiondirectory.com

The is part of the network i am building at http://www.evolutiondirectory.com

Most recently on this network I have set up a social (not dating) website aimed at the residents of York which has taken off, If you are one of the fine england residents who lives in York and would like to meet some new people, go for a few drinks or play some sport take a look at

http://yorksocial.evolutiondirectory.com

The famous revolving self cleaning toilet seat from the road trip through Germany, ina damn funny advert

Dachau

On our last full day in Munich we decided to go to Dachau. Dachau is one of the first concentration camps used by the Nazi forces during world war 2, it was infact their 'prototype'.

When we arrived at the car park the skies were grey and rain was starting to spit upon us. A stiff breeze shook the nearby trees as we made our way to the site where an astonishing 200,000 prisoners where held, and where it is estimated that around 32,099 died there,

As we crossed the road into the path lined with poplars which thickened the oppressive atmosphere with a susurrus from the deep wind above shaking the leaves of the trees planted by the very prisoners that where liberated from the camp.

As you enter the camp you find yourself on the old marching grounds where the prisoners used to attend a role call every morning, It didnt take long to reach the barracks where you saw where the sleeping quaters for the prisoners used to stand, these had been constructed by the very prisoners that occupied them. By the time this camp was liberated nearly 1,600 prisoners where found in each building.

The amount of tragedy that had occured at this place did not really occur to me till I saw a picture, it showed one of the still standing trees beside it surrounded by decrepit prisoners, as I glanced up I saw the same building, the same tree hardly any taller.

It was not that long ago that people had lost their lives to a regeime of pure hatred.

While in Munich we learned of groups that sought to bring down the Nazi power from the inside, they tried to educate their own people about what was really happening in the war. If ever this happens again that one moment in Dachau would lend them my support.

Pictures from Europe

As promised here are some of my pictures from the Europe Road Trip, theres still a few more but I cant get them (Or the video of the revolving toilet seat) off my phone at the moment as I spilt beer on it and it no longer reads the memory card.

http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/oli4uk/Europe

Two Week Road Trip Around Europe - Munich

So we leave the strasbourg/kehl border behind and head off to find somewhere to sleep, eventually we come to a service station that looks like we might not get arse raped and get ready to kip for the night. Before dropping off though I headed to the toiler.

This toilet put to shame any English facility I had ever been in, the air was fresh, the walls sparkling and the urinals lit up when you started to piss. But the most amazing thing happened when I went for a dump. After flushing the toilet something happened that I have never seen before, its simplicity and yet extravagance hypnotized me.

Let me set the scene, you are very tired, ready for bed and you go to flush. A quite electric sound humms from the water tank behind the toilet and a small part detaches itself. A small arm with a disenfectant covered spounge decends onto the part of the toilet seat closest to it. After a couple of seconds the ENTIRE TOILET SEAT rotates, ensuring every partof the seat is clean and acceptable for the next user.

Jesus I have never been so impressed with anything in my life.

The next morning we woke up, anus intact and began the trip to Munich. The trip was fairly uneventful, progress was unfortunately pretty slow due to a torrential downpour limiting our vision considerably.

Eventually we arrived in one of the more famous of German cities, Munich or Munchen in the native tongue.

Munich is a fantastic city, while we did not see it at its best due to unseasonally poor weather I fell in love with the city. From the cheap beer to the friendly people I found it hard to fault this city or the people in it. The architecture of many buildings was stunning, with their historic buildings given copious space unlike many similar places in the UK. We took a short walk through the English Gardens, A huge tract of land filled with english style foilage. Unlike many English gardens however the one in the centre of Munich comes with four huge beer gardens, a nudist area and even parts of the river where surfers can ride the current.

Our guide told us how in warmer weather the areas we passed would be thronged with people playing in the river, drinking in the spacious tree covered beer gardens and of course walking around naked. Fortunately due to the weather we avoided copious amounts of bodily hair, but rather disappointingly missed out on some of the worlds most renowned drinking areas.

We did however visit the Hofbrauhaus, this is renowned to visitors of this city, not only for its hefty steins of beef, large portions of filling food and authentic bovarian music but also for its locals, who drink here regularly and later on in teh night have a tendancy to dance on the tables and get truely wasted. The hofbrauhaus is the only place I have ever been in my life where they have a dedicated funnel type piece of apparatus specifically for people to be sick into. INterestingly they only have this in the mens... obviously the designers never went fora night out in Leeds.

The Hofbrauhaus is wher Hitler first started his campaign, though intially he was boo'd off and had glasses chucked at him this was later turned into one of his main establishments, if you look at the roof from the inside you can clearly see where the swastika were painted on the ceiling and later painted over with flags, though unfortunately still in the shape of the fallen symbol.

At our hostel (Its called the wombat hostel, would highly recommend it!) We met some fantastic people, Patrick the card genius, Eric scarily intense, think 7 minute abs off theres something about mary, Emi & Briannan (Not sure how she spelt it offhand, bloody aussies)and several other random people we played cards with. No other place was there the same kind of atmosphere as here.

At the hostel next door I vaguely remember meeting several other people, all of them seemed pretty cool, at this point however it was knocking on for 4 in the morning and I was pretty hammered.

I am hoping to go back to Munich next year, I couldn't fault it.

Changes

Since my updates have become fairly sporadic and yet I dont really want this blog to fall over I am opening my doors to a co-blogger or two.

If there is anyone out there, in the UK or otherwise who is interested in blogging, but cant quite be bothered to set one up this could be for you. If you're interested simply send me an e-mail with a story, im not sure whether il post this onto the blog for my reader(s?) to decide or choose myself!

The only rules I dictate are

- No Chavs
- No Dickheads
- No French
- You must work in a regular job, preferably office work but I would consider others.
- You should post at least once a month, any less isnt really worth it!

When you write for the blog I will not oppress any views you have on a subject, though I may argue against them if i do not agree, but it will be via the comments. The only reason I would delete a post is if i felt it would endanger the already limited popularity of my blog. I am not the kind of person to refuse someone the right to voice their opinion on any subject.

Quite possibly the most brilliant prank ever...

You have to watch this....

http://www.videosift.com/video/No-Reflection-the-most-brilliant-prank-ever

Suicide Boobs

Apparently breast implants have been directly linked to a higher suicide risk. This is not entirely surprising, women who get breast implants tend to have a much lower self esteem in any case.

Where this gets fun is that it has been suggested that women who request cosmetic surgery should be more closely watched for suicidal tendancies. In the future requesting breast implants may be the same as jumping into a straight jacket and running around London with your penis exposed singing 'come on eileen'.

Personally im not a fan of breast implants, natural is the way to go in my opinion. I have gone out with more than one girl who wanted them and the majority of those have been, to put it simply, slightly psychotic.

I do however like the fact that we have yet another example of 'minority report'esque style policing being proposed in our culture. After all taking suicidal people of the streets now may save their lives, but what if someone is wrongly diagnosed?

Of course they are not looking at instantly arresting anyone who requests implants, but they are suggesting local GPs are informed, and psychological testing and treatment being provided prior to all surgery.

Time will tell I guess.

It seems Aussies really do solve all their problems with alcohol.

"Mate, this Dunderheads only tried to top himself"

"Give him a drink, he'll be right"

----------------------

Australian doctors used an intravenous feed of vodka to keep an Italian tourist alive after he consumed large quantities of a poisonous substance.

The 24-year-old man, in an apparent bid at self-harm, had swallowed ethylene glycol, found in antifreeze, which can cause death. Doctors administered pure alcohol, the conventional antidote, but exhausted the hospital's supply.

Desperate to continue the treatment the doctors at Mackay Base Hospital in Queensland state hooked up an intravenous feed of vodka, hospital officials said.

"The patient was drip-fed about three standard drinks an hour for three days in the intensive care unit," Dr Todd Fraser said in a statement on Wednesday.

"Fortunately for him he was in a medically induced coma for a good portion of that. By the time he woke up I think his hangover would have well and truly gone," Fraser said.

"The hospital's administrators were also very understanding when we explained our reasons for buying a case of vodka."

The Italian man was treated in the hospital two months ago and has since made a successful recovery. News of his treatment was only released on Wednesday.

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Day 2 - Boulogne to Strasbourg

After waking up and vacating the weary hostel slightly late we made our way to the car, which fortunately had not been broken into. Boulogne looked a much nicer city in the soft daylight, however it was time to head off to Strasbourg, a historic city on the border of France and Germany, exactly on the border infact. Actually it s so close to the border that you can drive over a bridge in what looks like the middle of a city and suddenly find you have driven through passport control.

Strasbourg is a beautiful city, the rivers are lined with luxury boats and just over the road is the German town of Kehl, unsurprisingly similar in basic style, but still with its slight differences, for instance I suddenly didn't have the faintest what the signs meant, at least in France I had been able to dredge my knowledge of under funded school French

As we arrived at Strasbourg after a gruelling day (For Keith) Driving across France we were glad of the sight before us, the hostel, a bed and a shower would not be far away. Oh how wrong we were. After getting lost several times looking for the 'beautiful world famous gardens' within which our hostel would be we eventually found we managed to find the place. It looked very quite. Too Quiet....

Initially I had found this hostel using my internet browser on my phone, little did I realise at this point that browsing approximately 5 webpages had cost me about £20, at this point I would like to make a brake in my story to raise two fingers and say, ahem FUCK YOU O2. But yes, the hostel guide we had brought informed me of something which the internet had not. The hostel was closed for refurbishment. Infact both of strasbourg's hostels where closed for refurbishment. You may have noticed I missed out a capital S in that last sentence, it was not a mistake, the city did not deserve it. Especially when I realised the second hostel was also closed for refurbishment.

There was a third, but the directions in the youth hostel guide are next to useless, so we took a quick look in Kehl, were our hopes of hostel reprieve were momentarily brought to bear. We found a promising hostel in the guide, quite a large one. At this moment in time we were praising the Germans, but we still couldn't find the hostel. After a long weary drive around the city several times we decided to call it a night and headed to MacDonald's to relieve ourselves after the arduous travels of the day.

It was while Keith was in the bathroom I approached a German man who looked like he might know the city, hoping for some vague directions to the youth hostel.

This mans name was Harold

That should have been warning enough.

So after I attempted to speak my weak German to him, despite knowing all of 'hallo' and 'spreken zeee engelish' it turned out Harold could speak English quite well, well enough to take the piss out of the French for their abysmal knowledge of the language.

Harold was a pretty friendly guy, maybe just a little too friendly, but he said that he would drive to the hostel and we could follow in our car. At this point I was not worried, however when he stopped in a deserted street with a dark grassy park beyond a couple of ominous concrete bollards I began to have my first doubts. Needless to say I was just a little relieved when, as walking through a deserted park with a strange man I saw the familiar blue sign of the YHA over the horizon. Not so welcome was the darkened look of the reception. after trying the aged buzzer several times Harold finally got an answer from a gruff half asleep German on the intercom. This man in no uncertain terms spoke rapid angry German to Harold which probably involved where the weary English travellers could stick their needs of a bed for the night, and that we had missed reception close by about half an hour. Utter. Cunt.

As we walked back to the car I started to become a little worried, Harold was offering to drive us all over looking for a new hostel, he was infact one of those people who are just a little too helpful for comfort. After a cursory glance in the back of his car it also seemed as if he lived in it, not a good sign. Especially when he started offering to show us car parks to sleep in...

After he took us to a train station car park he left, probably utterly disappointed that neither me or Keith had offered to bend over for him. By a unanimous decision we decided that a train station car park with only a thin pane of glass between us and Harold when he knew our exact location was not an ideal sleeping spot. We headed off towards Munich and found quite possibly the most amazing service station ever to sleep in...

Chivalry

I will be completely honest with you, after seeing yet another story where someone has got penalised for justly defending themselves I am continuing to lose faith in this once great country.

It wasnt that long ago that if a man came upto you and punched you, then you would be completely justified in knocking him to the ground. Now of course you will receive a worse punishment than the attacker.

Of course things are changing slightly for the better, if you find someone breaking into your house you can now apprehend him, whereas before you had to let him steal everything before you called the police (Who would then fail to do anything because there was so little chance of them catching anyone with the resource they allocate to house breakins) maybe if they did spot CSI type investigations on a percentage of random crimes it would help. I know I'd think twice about peeing in the street if there was a 3% chance of a SWAT team breaking down my door the next morning and handing me a £30 fixed penalty notice while some big bastard is pointing a machine gun in my face with one hand and rubbing my face in the carpet with the other.

I think it is every mans right to defend themselves and their property, it should be on all occasions the attacker who is at fault. If someone trespasses on your property then you should hold no liability as to what happens to them. Take stories like the man who fell through a screen roof while attempting to steal from warehouse, the worst thing in my mind that his attempt to sue the owner of the property managed to get to court. Seriously this kind of thing gets right on my tits.

Day One, the Journey to Boulogne

So the morning arrived, in a couple of hours we would be heading off to Dover. It was I thought about time I did all that packing malarkey. So two hours later with my clothes in a bag, my wash bag full and my random crap put in place I sit there thinking what in gods name I have forgotten.

This is the curse of the start of every holiday. You should be excited, raring to go, and looking forward to a fortnight of relaxation. Instead you find yourself morosely sat on the edge of your bed trying to remember what you have left. Your wild eyes scanning the room for the vaguest hint of what vital thing you have left behind in the turmoiled warzone of a mess you left while speed packing.

Fortunately this depressing saga soon came to an end. As the hour struck 11 me and Keith chucked our mound of luggage into his pristine (Slightly bird shit covered) car. With a slight sigh of relief as the final stash of cargo was stowed we jumped into the front seats of the worthy BMW and set off. The car started with a growl, relishing the challenge ahead, the lights in the gleaming distance turned green, and we were off!

The first (not so glamorous) port of call was the Tescos car wash, when we entered the continent for the first time we wanted to impress. A BMW is the perfect car for this, sleek but with muscle, an engine that growls and with an elegance well known by all people far and wide, whether they pronounce it B M Double Yew, B M Doubla Vay or B M Voe. So after a quick wash the car arrived bright and shiny, with only the most resilient of bird excrement surviving the onslaught of a Tescos Own Brand car wash.

The day was still fresh, the ferry was far in the future of a promising day, which I though, was probably just as well as we gradually crawled through some of York's less versatile motoring roads. Fortunately however we had soon left behind the inter city madness of snail paced traffic and made impressive progress on the road south, giving Keith an opportunity to stretch his speedometer.

I have to admit I thought it was slightly disappointing that we were leaving the fold of Great Britain just as the sun was starting to shine through after a dismal summer of rain and overcast clouds. Thank God all the newspapers were talking of the heat wave currently sitting over the continent with the stubbornness of a fat man on two bus seats.

The journey south sped by, and soon we saw the famous white cliffs surrounding the most famous of English ports, Dover. This was where we first began to experience the first impossible signs of trouble. After speeding into the first check point we were stopped by customs who brought in a dog to search our car. The dog was pretty damn good, it was trained to sniff out drugs and money to such a degree that it could even tell where money had been.. Of course when the man asked us to remove all items of food and cash out of the car I managed to leave my wallet in there, fool I am. I was more than impressed when the dog delved into my bag and found the pocket where 10 minutes earlier my stash of Euros had been held.

As we passed this checkpoint we hit the French customs, who also decided to check our car. I have very rarely been stopped before for looking suspicious, so for the second search I began to suspect that Keith was involved in some international smuggling ring to be gaining this amount of attention. Fortunately the Frenchman's way of searching our car, looking in the boot, seeing how much of a mess it was and waving us on. So customs passed we went to check in to our ferry..

The woman at the check in booth as we drove up to it had on a terminally bored face of one really wishing they where somewhere, anywhere, else. She was also incredibly quiet. So when she said that the order reference number we had was incorrect we were slightly worried. Fortunately after searching for Mr Taylor she pulled up his reservation details and we were passed our tickets for a ferry nearly an hour earlier than we were expecting, fantastic result!

Of course it was only later that we realised Keith had handed over the reservation details for the hostel instead of the ferry.

After getting into the wrong lane, down to the quiet lady seeming to say 2, not 209 we finally boarded the ferry and quickly made our way onto the decks above. This was the last time in just over two weeks that we would be seeing our homeland.

The sun was out as we left England, a promising sign from the journey ahead. As per my workmates instructions I took a picture of the pig and the penguin (Our mascots) with the white cliffs of Dover towering into the sky behind them. In less than three short hours we would be abroad, in the land of driving on the right, croissants and porn on the bottom shelves. Needless to say we could not wait.

Boulogne was our next destination, as soon as we were off the ferry we set off, leaving behind Calais towards our first stop off. From what our guide said the hostel had a bar, internet and a large number of rooms, needless to say we had high hopes for this place. Celebratory plans for my 23rd birthday in a different country that night in the form of a few pints were already underway, I was looking forward to celebrating my aging by another year in a completely new country.

After several wrong turns in Boulogne trying to find the hostel we parked up on the street and attempt to find the place, needless to say the hostel had advertised itself incredibly well by hiding all signs to indicate its presence in trees and shrubs. The car park for the hostel looked depressingly empty, similar in attendance to an aged bachelors funeral. Still, we did not give up hope, after collecting our room keys with Keith's impressive French lingual skills and my English in a French accent we head up to the room which, while sparse, was much better than some hostels I have stayed in.

The real disappointment was the bar. While it looked quite nice it was very empty, the only person in there had a big dog and looked like he had been a resident, and a drug dealer, at the hostel for a very very long time. The pool table was alright though, so we made ourselves at home and went to order a beer.

This is where we experienced for the very first time a foreign measure of beer. Their measures are not quite the same as ours, but I shall attempt to describe them in detail here.

Take one glass approximately the size of a slim jim glass.
Poor beer into glass with no tilt, allowing a health head approximately 1 third the size of the glass to develop.
Charge the price of a full pint despite it being about a quarter of the size.

That, I think just about covers it....

After several games of pool (Which I won, *Dances*) we decided to try and find a more lively drinking establishment, by this point the bar had become so dead that even the barmaid had left, never a good sign when you are looking for a heavy first night. The streets of Boulogne are quite nice, they are well lit, so you can clearly see the untied dogs half your size growling at you teeth bared. Fortunately though we made it to the town centre without painfully contracting rabies, leaving us with the minor matter of finding a pub.

France is well known as being a country of culture, their cafes are open till late serving food coffee and beer. Unfortunately there are not many places which give the pub like atmosphere an Englishman needs to relax and celebrate in. Eventually after a large walk we came upon an Irish bar.

Finally! I thought.

It seemed that fate had dropped us into the perfect place, in the window was a huge amount of Irish memorabilia, guiness items and little Irish flags. With uncontained excitement I stepped inside, instantly all Irish familiarity had gone. Two Guiness pumps stood alone and dusty on the bar, like two statues commemorating fallen soldiers. The bar itself seemed quite posh, and my mounting fear was confirmed when I ordered two pints, it took all of my self control to stop shouting TWELVE EUROS!!!! at the top of my voice, yes that's right folks, our first pub outside of a hostel had pints for six euros a piece.

It wasn't long before we discovered that Irish all so meant no air conditioning, as we went in for a quick game of pool (and unfortunately I lost this time) it didn't take long for the heat to leave me and Keith a couple of sweaty messes. Needless to say by the time we had drained our drinks we went in search of numerous other establishments. Unfortunately all of them followed the cafe culture style, no real drinking entertainment was to be found in this town.

There was a nicer side to this town though. While prices were high there were a few places we paced which looked quite lively, and some of the smaller streets captivated my attention. I would have wandered down a few more of these but after a days travelling we were both tired and I was not in the mood for getting randomly lost.

So with an air of defeat around us we headed back to our hostel for our first nights sleep on the continent.

Brief interlude

Ok in the first post I said how my life was ina bad place, this was mostly because my relationship with aussie girl was on the rocks.

We attempted to patch things up but as of 5 past midnight this morning we are now officially apart. I cannot go into details here because she knows my blog address and though she has promised not to look at it again I know how inquisitive she can be (So stop reading Anj!! =p)

To sum it up though, I am not in the best of places right now. I had fallen head over heels for her and really do wish things had worked out. She was the most amazing person I had ever met and i cannot and do not regret a single moment I spent with her.

A man once said how science and politics do not hold a whisper of the strength of love, he said how nothing matters on this earth other than that. The same man went on to build a device that killed a huge numbr of people in japan during world war 2. Irony at its best.

Needless to say right now I understand his sentiments more than anything, this man lived a life of pure happyness thanks to the wife he met.

Despite the cliche I have felt worse after this than any other breakup, despite it lacking any shouting and so on. It is said that each person on this planet has one true person who is right for them. I feel that through my own stupidity in the early stages I have lost that one person.

Do not worry too much though, I live my life by the saying things will always work out.

Introduction to the Two Week Road Trip

So I had a few personal problems and hit a pretty low point in my life. This happens to everyone at least a few times.

Fortunately my housemate Keith had just a few nights earlier mentioned how he had been wanting to travel. Needless to say I jumped on this opportunity faster than a rabbit in heat and mentioned a trip to poland. He was more than up for this but soon came up with a far superior idea.

Keiths old faithful BMW was a bit the worse for wear, a random squeaking while in transit from one of the wheels, a few dents and a cam shaft that was about to give were the major issues. So in his magnificence he decided to take the old beemer on one final trip around europe, a road trip if you will.

This road trip would be set to cover several major countries, and a few of the less major ones like Lichenstein, which is not so much a country as an extended border crossing.

Admittedly at this point we did not plan on passing through such countries, infact we were surprised by how far our travels took us and which parts we enjoyed.

But back on track, plans where underway, this involved Keith doing meticulous route planning, milage and time estimations, research on countries and picking up a few foreign phrases. I took on the roles of thinking 'I wouldnt mind going by Munic and Spain is pretty damn nice this time of year'

So with destinations in mind I began to make my preperations for the trip. Cash is always one of the more important things, so my first stop off was to get some of my good british pounds exchanged into Euros. There are a few places that do this commision free, the best rates at the time however were Marks and Sparks and the post office.

Anyone who has ever had to enter he post office will soon know what it feels like to be in a beaurocrats dream after too much cheese eaten in haste before his bedtime. After queuing for a minimum of 33 minutes and 28 seconds you will be presented with a multitudes of forms which are required for the simplest of tasks. It is for instance the only time I have been asked to sign a form after buying a roll of packing tape and some brown paper.

Once you have filled the forms in required for your purchase or service they will ask you to rejoin the queue. This time the minimum queuing time will be over 67 minutes and 41 seconds, since the queuing time is inversely proportionate to the amount of time you need to spend with the woman at the desk. If for instance you are merely wishing to return a pen you borrowed by the time you reach the front of the desk you will have grand children and mutated hovering shrimp will have taken over the world.

For these reasons I decided to go to the marks and spencers currency exchange. The Marks and Spencers Currency Exchange is conveniantly located on the top floor at he back of the room behind a lot of clothes. This location has a distinct advantage, that being I can find it before all the short people. The queue was pretty short as I joined up, looking at the signs saying they accepted visa I expected this to be a quick job.

Before I move on let me explain a little system i put in place at the start of august. Due to financial constraints I started a system to limit my spending on a night. This involved me having two wallets, one for nights out and one for living. Each week I put so much into my going out wallet and limit myself to that amount.

But back to the story, I walked up to the helpful looking cashier and asked to transfer £350 of my strong British Pounds into approximately 500 of those weak Euros and handed her my credit card. Here she spoilt my wandering dream of british dominance.

"Can I have some ID please" she chirruped in a slightly high pitched voice.

Being blissfully unaware of my unintended cockup I say no problem and went to hand her my drivers license. untill I realised it was in my drinking wallet.

At this point you have to realsie I have nearly 10 people stood behind me, watching my foolish anticts with the terminally bored faces of a British queuer. I mention to the lady that I may have forgotten my ID, to which the charming young woman says in a slightly louder than neccessary voice that if I do not have any ID I cannot pay by card and will have to get some money out of the cash machine down stairs.

The cash machines ni Marks and Spencers are conveniantly hidded in a corner surrounded by high shelves of foodstuffs and so forth. I see the queue at thesse machines and decide to go next door to the Halifax ATMs.

These are normally quite quick to get to, both queues have 2 people in them, so i position myself inbetween them both in an attempt to make my time saving decision of which queue to join at the last minute. I noticed the woman in the right queue seemed to be finishing but I decided to wait to make absolutely sure.

Unfortunately I was joined just a little too late. A short balding man with jam jar glasses appeared behind me and with infallible slowness attempted to move into the right hand queue. I saw this move coming a mile off, HaHa! I though as I jumped into the quicker queue before him, pleased with the way I had pronounced the capitals through the inner monologue of my mind.

But here tragedy struck, the original woman/child combo in the other queue had departed and the woman behind her was just checking her balance, HER BALANCE! I mean come on who doesnt do that online nowdays. After she had done that she walked off pleased with her apparent richness. the man was now ahead of me, withonly one person left, the man infront of him, a morbid looking affair, went to check his balance too, sweat started to drip down my forehead.

Meanwhile the person at the front of our queue had moved off, leaving me with one person between me and the grail of the till. The bespeckled man grinned at me, not realising his morbid preceeding ATM user was now going to withdraw cash. Then a miracle happened. The old woman infront of me, a killer in the world of speed, sighed and walked off. At exactly the same moment the person using the till took their cash and departed.

Then, the unholy mother abuser in the jam jar glasses actually tried, and i cannot believe this! He actually tried to slip onto that cash machine!

I was not going to take this obvious shunting into my space, so speedier than a squirrel on a caffine high I jumped to the machine and slammed my card in, much to the annoyance of the petite agressor who was now seething as the people behind him had moved forward, leaving him yet again stuck behind me.

Needless to say I made sure I took the cash out of two seperate accounts, checking the balance on each one.

Fortunately after that it went fairly smoothly, it was a bit of an in and out job. The escalators where in true M & S fasion designed to make getting to the top easy but require you to walk half way around the store to reach the next one taking you down. A fantastic marketting structure, but a pain in the scrotum when you are late back for work.

So with a smile on my face (You cannot have a big wad of notes in your hand and be unhappy) I proceeded back to work, only marginally late and looking forward to the holiday ahead.

Shove the baby back in, and close your legs, in the name of the law!

I am ever so slightly amused by possibly the best law ever made.

Be warned now, this new law could severely reduce your chances of getting re-incarnated.

China has just passed a new law banning reincarnation without a permit. They didnt say how they were going to enforce it, after all you can only kill somebody so many times before they finally give you the slip, but it also makes me wonder what would happen if somebody had full regulatory control of reincarnation.

Becoming a tibetan monk would definately be a poor career choice. If you ever had any conflict with a guy who went to work for the chinese government you would probably wake up one day to find yourself part of a clutch of anal lice.

It would however be of huge benefit to law enforcement, murderers could be sent down as disabled blue bottles. The good people on the other hand could be born into a rich family. Hell, if someone does really well we may even have the next jesus on our hands!

Pedos on Facebook

Today yet another publicity seeking US attourny has turned on one of the relatively unknown social networking sites in the USA, but more popular in the UK. Today he claimed that Facebook was not doing enough to protect its users from sexual predators.

Now normally I do not think this is such a big deal, things like myspace often have huge amounts of personal information on, and could have exposed many children to sexual predators and peadophiles. But this attention seeking cunt of an attourney has obviously never used facebook, and most likely just searched for a social site which hadnt already had someone accuse of being a hive of debauchery (Like the whole chat room debunking,

So Yeah.

You may, or probably most likely may not have noticed that I have not been blogging quite so much recently. I would like to assure you that I am not dead, nor have I suddenly aquired a hugely popular life. What I have done is too fold.

1) I got a second job.

I am now a fully qualified bar monkey. If ever any of you visit York I may pass you the name of the bar i work in, I even may get you discount.

Just do not ask for a cocktail, or I will shove absynthe up your anal passage.

2) I got a Girlfriend, yes this hunk of a man is now taken im afraid ladies. The aussie girl I met seems to have worked out, we get on together, enjoy doing the same things and she seems to fit into my arms really well.

Anyhow

A quick write up of things I have missed on the blogging front

------------------------------
July 4th - Happy 'finally got rid of those bloody yanks' day

Yes the day we got rid of that english colony, it is remembered dearly by all englishmen.

------------------------------
Edingburgh Bombings

This kind of got to me. I like having different cultures in our country, but the complete disregard some muslims have for any other culture is to me disgraceful. Take a look at http://fourdinnersblog.blogspot.com for a story that brnigs out the worst of another culture.

The man in this blog has highlighted on several occasions how British Culture is being sacrificed for others. When we can be called intolerant by a group that is trying to ban christmas celebrations in any workspace with a muslim worker I get worried. I would not go over there and ask them to stop doing muslim things beccause it offeneded my own beliefs, If you go somewhere you should be ready to adapt, otherwise you might as well stay at home.

Dont get me wrong, im not muslim bashing. I know many who are well balanced, great individuals, to these I open my arms and say welcome to Britain. Like everywhere though a few bad eggs...

-------------------------------------

Big Brother Restarted

I havnt watched it yet, dont intend to start. The first series was alright, after that it kinda got repetative.


Anyway, I will write again soon!

Uhoh

I slept in this morning, making me a little late for work, several hours late infact

indeed I got in at lunchtime

uhoh

on the plus side I got a lot of sleep, I had an early night!

Update

Ok, so I have made the first steps towards travelling,

I got my first second job, meaning I am pretty knackered but a bit better off each month, untill the taxman finds out of course. I have been reading up about places in europe, theres a fair few places that sound interesting, and actually rome is pretty high on the agenda, due to its location though I may leave that for a seperate trip!

Im liking the sound of a paypal donate button, cant see it taking off though!

Travelling Bug

Several times a year I get the travelling bug, I want to see new places do new things, get out of the monotonous office environment, and yet every year I manage to do sweet fuck all about it.

Over the last week or so I have been seeing a girl from australia, and her life has been absolutely amazing. She has travelled the world, lived in Glasgow and moved to York. At the moment she is is in Poland and will be off over to Holland in a couple of weeks. I have never respected a woman so much in my life, possibly not so much because of what she has done, more about what she has done that I have completely failed to do, despite wanting to for years!

My family have always been into travelling, my mum spent several years hitchicking across teh continent, my grandad wrote a series of travel books. (All on my mums side admittedly, my dads side have lived in castleford their whole life, hence why im 6'5 with a broadish build, coal mines have been part of my ancestors lifestyle up until my dad)

But back onto point, the fact that someone who has come quite closely into my life can do so much, and travel so far has kind of put me in my place. This has given me that little bit extra incentive to push forward, get a second job, save some money up and go off to travel.

I was looking at Inter rail, for about £300 I could get a train pass for a month that would take me anywhere, from thereon in it would be a case of going where i liked, finding the nearest youth hostel or camp site and moving on to a new city, new culture after a couple of days. The thought of the freedom of just going to a trainstation, picking a destination at random and going there is amazingly appealing to me. If things do go ahead and I do get to travel the world my Aussie girl will most definately be giving credit for her unintended inspiration in my listless life.


On that note I have already started preperations, I will be going on a short camping holiday to the lakes with some mates at the end of the month, to start getting back into shape. I have got a few applications in for second jobs going, getting some decent cash behind me is a must! (Donations accepted =p) and I have started researching the problems of working abroad. I plan on going to one of the nearby youth hostels tonight to see if I can chat to anyone whos done a lot of international travel, there will hopefully be one or two about!

You ever get the feeling your life has been wasted?

I have it and im only 22.

I need to get away.

Oh my fucking god.

Chavs seem to be in abundance these days, and is it that surprising?

They always get away with the crap they do. Take this for instance.

http://www.yorkpress.co.uk/search/display.var.1309628.0.fury_over_tyreslash_suspect_no_charge_decision.php

A 17 year old chav decides to go out and slash the tires on 90 cars, causing thousands of pounds of damage. Something that in my opinion should have him locked up and working to repay teh debt.

What happens?

Sweet fuck all thats what, our fantastic justice system decide its not worth the effort to prosecute him.

What the hell is this country coming to when someone can get away with this?

Sure the police are spot on when it comes to, for instance, stopping me while i was having a run down by the river. Keeping fit is a very suspicious thing nowdays, but surely slashing the tires on 90 cars would be worth a slap on the wrist at least.

Makes me ant to emmigrate to be honest, some countries will chop your bollox off for doin something like that.

The Move

One of my flat mates has been moving out over the week, leaving his much larger room vacated. Hence I am now moving into his room post-haste, it does has a massive window in it which provides both great veiws and freezing cold tempratures in winter and boiling hotness in summer. Size matters though.

This does mean that im going to have to shift some furnature down some stairs and through a small doorway though.

Uhoh

When I put this wardrobe together i put the back board onto it with an industrial staple gun

ermmm

Shit.


Apart from the wardrobe though it should be fairly easy, i seem to remember my draws being quite heavy but since they are being taken down some stairs not up them im hoping it wont be a huge problem.


We also have a new flatmate coming our way, he maanages to earn about 24 grand a year working 2 weeks out of the month. To this I say Bastard, I will also be saying 'tell me how', I can only hope that I will be able to pull it off!

anyhow, have a lot to do today, Adios!

Hangunder

This morning I feel like im hungover, but i did not drink anything last night. Hence this morning me and a mate have dubbed this a hang under, similar to a hang over but with no enjoyment the night before.

Of course many people have suggested reasons for this, mainly dehydration. I however believe one of my flat mates beat me round the head with a big fuck off mallet and then coated my tongue with a thin layer of tar.


ahh well.

Yesterday saw the end of the nice weather. Specifically after I had gone into town, bought a sandwich, drink etc and gone al the way to the river to sit down the weather changed. One minute sunny, next minute cloudy. This is the already known rule of 'Sods Law'

*Cry*

Anyhow, I hope you all had a great Bank Holiday!

Summer!

It seems that the summer season is yet again upon us!

The river in york is yet again thronged with people, the pub by the banks is heaving with tourists, more than enough to pay for repairs next time it floods.

The beer gardens are packed, as the afternoon sun glints and shimmers of the gently rippling waters of our fantastic river ouse. The museum gardens no longer the despondently empty winter home of the squirrels and yet again filled with tourists, sunbathers and workrs, relaxing after a hard days labour.

I myself will be partaking inna little beer garden drinking, the weather pretty much demands it.

The bank holidays will leave me little time to post, so everyone have a great easter, I hope you all get much chocolate!

A first and a last

I had a phone conversation with a fellow blogger for the first time ever last night, quite an acheivement I think you will agree. I managed through my smooth talking to get a drunken text off the gorgeous miss Celeste who was ever so slightly drunk (but sobering up, honest).

After several back and forth texts I gave her a phone call (Forest gump had finished by this point, great film.) and was surprised by the posh, but admittedly very cute voice of Celeste.

At this point you may be thinking this is slightly stalkerish behaviour, trust me you wont get worried till you realise im wrting a blog on it. Console yourself in the fact that I have litterally no other ideas of which to write about.

But yes, to all the prospective people who may in future ring celeste shes a fantastic to talk to, just the right amount of humour, wittyness and cleavage, though I didnt get to see that over the phone.

The question is Celeste, do you agree with this post? =p

Aslo, my page ranking has dropped to '0', considering i used to be 2 I feel im now in last place on the internet, dispite there being millions of other '0' ranked websites. I shall have to start posting daily and sending my spare change to google again.

Home Delivery

It seems that women will soon be given the choice of delivering their babies from home. This in my opinion is a rather tame attempt by the government to free up hospital beds. what i think will cause a fuss is when they realise they dont have enough midwives. I

I suspect the governments response to this will be a 'Do-it-yourself' kind of kit containing a unisex coloured towel, a bowl (Just add warm water) a pair of tongs and a help guide for such emergencies that might occur, like the baby crawling back in or the wife complaining about the pain (Suggested response being, 'Ive crapped bigger things than this').

Due to the huge amount of single mothers in this country the kit would have to cater for them too, possible extra utensils could be a mirror and a lassoo (Spelling?)

Of course there may be other things needed for the kit, a Pint a Paper and a tv (with remote control) may be needed to get the man of the house through the ordeal. Possibly with a curry, I've heard women can take hours squeezing them out. It always pays to be prepared.

Why I have not posted..

Along with many other bloggers my posts seem to have dried up recently. Infact I am quite worried about some of them who seemed to have disappeared completely (Jezebel I mean you!)

Im not sure why I havn't posted, I have been doing quite a bit of freelance writing (it turns out the yanks like the cute english phrases in text as well as speach) and I most definately could have commented on the wide range of topics going about in my city, ie the mini chavs who cant seem to not shout, the chav who got arrested because he went to complain to the police that his picture on the wanted poster made him look like a peadophile (Yes that really happened, the retard tried to sue the police)


But all in all I've just been too busy, not to mention god damn tired, to keep this blog up to date.

New(Ish) Layout

I have finally go my arse in gear and brought the site upto date with googles page creator, its pretty good, unless you want to do somethnig it wasnt designed to do >.<

With the new layout though I now have a friends list, I will be adding the sites i regularly visit in teh misplaced hope that one of these fantastic people will add my link to their site. *hint hint*

ahem

Anyway, St Patricks day was amazing, got hammered, got the hat, beertray, beer mats, and banner from some random pub. Was a bit disappointed that a load of my mates bailed, was still a great night though!

But for now, back to work. I will find a topic for a post with some point to it shortly.

Comic Releif

Comic relief, a day in Britain where we have celebrities make a fool of themseleves in the name of charities, and where we have the famous celebrities peform in comic sketches. IN my mind a celebrity is tabloid fodder while a famouse person is an actor or personality people know and respect.

I am all for a bit of charity, i have lost £30 this month to random sponsorships, charity boxes etc however our company did something today that irked me

Every year for comic relief (And most charity or special days) our company has a dress down day. They also have the buckets out to collect donations for charity, fair enough.

I would be happy about all of this, putting a coulpe of quid in etc if it wasnt for one thing.

The email we got anouncing this dress down day.

"As we're sure many of you are aware this Friday is Comic Relief Day and the management have kindly agreed to a 'dress-down' day. There will be a bucket in reception for all donations (£1 minimum) for those wishing to participate.

Wait a second, £1 minimum???

Now donations I agree with, even more so if they are anomynous (So people arnt guilted into giving money) However I think that my company enforcing a £1 minimum means they might as well be taxing us.

Blairs Apology Over Slavery

It seems that Mr Tony Blair has yet again apologied over slavery, something I believe he shouldnt have done.

Firstly though let me point out, im not pro slavery, apart from on the marraige front where I one day hope to have my very own. I dont agree with it, nor do I condone it and I believe human trafficking should be wiped out.

However.

Should Tony Blair apologise on behalf of the UK regarding slavery?

I personally dont feel any responsibility, handed down or otherwise for the slave trading that went on in the past. I also think that Blair saying sorry is like an admittance of our responsibility, opening up the country to legal repairations.

I think the people who should be made to say sorry are the people who still trade humans, as they are still doing it and still accountable.

This made me think though, why are people who never suffered at the hands of slavers asking for an apology, maybe for their great great grandfather?

In the same vein I could ask for repairations from the saxons and vikings for invading and possibly killing relatives of mine, or more recently perhaps we could ask for repairations for the killings of white farmers in africa.

I guess my point is, while i dont agree with the slave trade neither do i agree with pointing the blame at countries who no longer have any dealings with it, especially as britain was one of the first major countries to pull out of the trade.

Exercise - The unwritten story.

After a leg injury a while back I have been lacking any exercise on my legs, hence why I ahve not joined any company football teams. Last week however I took the plunge and joined not one but TWO football things.

So, last friday i started getting myself in shape, I am quite plesed with my progression, heres a quick diary.

Day 1 (Friday) - Left for a run about 7, was out of breath before reaching the river I was going to run along. Half way along the river suffer a mild collapse due in part to a rut in the road, spend 5 minutes recovering much to the amusement of an old dog walking woman. Arrive home an hour later close to a heart attack after about 20 stops.

Day 2 - Set off before dinner, nearly run over a tourist. Still ahve a lot of stops, did nto however fall over.

Day 3 - Was impressed with myself as i needed a few less stops.

Day 4 - Improved a little more, was stopped by a few drunken geezers who thought I was some football player for some premiership team.

Day 5 (Tuesday) - First football game, did ok, ran out of breath easy though

Day 6 - legs fine, back however stiff as hell, did not do any exercise.

Day 7 - Ran without stoppping at half my usual places, very impressed with myself!

Day 8 - Will see in an hour!

Death to Websense

Well it seems that any .blogspot.com address is now not only blocked my my works web filtering software 'websense' it also catagorises my, and any other blog, as 'sex' related.

The only way my blog could currently be associated with sex is if it was prefixed with 'lack of' so it seems quite unfortunate that I now have on my proxy log with the company about 5 attempts to access sex related sites, after trying to view various peoples blogs.

Anyhow, this probably means i will be a bit quite on the blogging circuit for a while as I have more interesting things to do when at home!

Sense of Adventure

My family going back through history has been well known for exploring the world, My grandfather for instance was walking over europe during the start of a world war, he was in poland when the news broke, wrong time wrong place!

And now I fully understand what made him leave britain, with hardly any cash and a lot of determination, to travel the world, see new countries and experience new cultures.

The drabness of daily office work is something that I feel will destroy me, nothing challenges me, nothing grows, there is nothing NEW. All over the world things are happening, countries are rising and falling, economies are fluctuating, people are risking their lives in battle, and their bank accounts starting new companies. The ravages of time are flying by daily, it seems like no time has gone since I first started work, every day the same.

I need to travel, need to try smoething new, I want to a Job that I Want to do, not Have to do.

Of course its a fantasy, christmas drained my money, il be saving upto june jsut to be able to afford festival season then I will be broke till christmas again. All the jobs in city centres are office jobs, same shit, different office. I have joined the ranks of the broken millions, floating mindlessly through the working day, praying my lottery ticket pays off.

Aerosmith + London Hydes Park = PISSSUPPPP

It seems like in the summer of 2007 I will be going down to see the one and only Aerosmith, yes thats right AEROSMITH with the amazing, if slightly geriatric, Steve Tyler.

The gig will be starting quite early but we could do with a pub nearby to Hyde park for a couple of beverages, any ideas?

Drunken Debauchery?

Tonight is going to be my first big night out in a while, after last weeks 2 pints that made me feel a little drunk I am well aware how my alcohol tolerance may have slipped to a ludicrously low amount. Cheap night?

I hope so.

Tonight a guy from work is leaving the company for pastures new, so it is our duty as his fellow co-workers to send him off in style, by getting as wasted as humanly possible and staggering to our homes no earlier than closnig time.

A friend of mine, il call him 'Mr Ballache' for now has also tried pushing an idea on a few of us that we should ahve a full fancy dress night out round town. This is not in itself a bad idea, fancy dress instantly makes women see you as a fun loving care free kind of guy, and greatly increases your chance of getting laid, not however if you go as a womble.

Yes that right.

Mr Ballache has on order 8 womble costumes for a nights hire, of which he wants the money off us without even asking us in the first place.

I would gladly dress up as many things, a devil? hell yeah! a cowboy Yee Haa! a priest or doctor? Definately! although last time i was a priest a nun stole my underwear.

But a womble?!?

Liars.

Liars really piss me off.

You get all kinds, inthe office it is a barrage of constant lies and hidding information, outside the office i have heard everything from "This scar was from a bullet yeah, i was ina holdup" while the suferee points to something that looks suspiciously like a fag burn, all the way to yeah my dad paints the silver strip on the back of mobile top up cards, he lets me do a few so I always write the numbers down".

Both complete bullshit but there you go. Lies have become part fo our everyday life, sometimes covered as 'discretions' sometimes just complete twats spouting off. Whats the worst lie youve ever heard?

*Update*

Since it seems that the Americans do not recognise the term Chav I guess I have a bit of explaining to do. Despite my dislike of the American traitorous hangdogs and their silverspoon polititions (You know you want to be British really) , it is merely a vague dislike, its hard not to dislike a country who votes the warmongering Bush family in repeatedly. Clinton was ok, so he had an affair, atleast he didnt destroy your economy then declare war on any country that negatively affects the USA. Dont worry Jezebel that doesnt include you, I want to have babies with your sexy self.

But back to the point which I am oh so good at drifting from. Rather trying to describe this myself I suggest going on http://www.chavscum.co.uk/ an looking at 'how to spot a chav'.

This will allow any travelling USAeons to comment on how they wore the same clothes as a nearby chave (Wether you did or not) 30 years ago, then burst out laughing.

Annoy a Chav Week

Chavs, Townies, Scum or simply those young kids who wear Burberry a lot thinking its cool and not realising it is in fact golfer gear. Yes the uncivilized foul mouthed scum who ask for small change, cigs and after a few pints a fight.

These Chavs are becoming more and more of a problem in the UK, and now my friends I think its time to put a stop to it.

From the 26th of February till the 4th of March I believe we should have Annoy a Chav week, everyone get together and slander, ridicule and deny chavs their rights. You could do as little as sit behind a chav on a bus and say how your dads realy pleased with his new burberry top you got him for his 65th birthday, or simply burst out into tears of laughter when you pass a Chav in top to toe nike tracksuit.

So whos with me? Lets destroy the Chav culture!

I thought I had best apologise for not blogging a huge amount over the past few weeks, partly due to not really getting upto much, partly due to being very busy at work.

Well, today is valentines day!

Thats right the worlds most depressing day for single postmen nationwide is upon us, and I have not got a girl with which to share it in the new city I inhabit. This is not quite as depressing as it would normally be for a single bloke such as myself, im a bit skint at the moment, women are expensive, notoriously so on the 14th of the second month. I also have to admit that the freedom of the single life is something I would miss, my previous relationship being a little too constrictive for my liking.

Its not all bad, I have received a Valentines text off a cute girl from leicester, someone who was it not for distance I would have asked out a long time ago. I then got one off a girl in leeds, much closer to home and who recently grew out of chavdom and into what is generaly know an as 'gorgeous'

The big question is, do I go out tonight, do I goto Leeds or do I stay in, mope a little and have a big pizza to round the evening off.

Anyone out there want to be my valentine?

Mistakes

Everyone in life makes mistakes, from the little ones, such as when I wrote FUCK A DUCK in permenant marker on my dad's whiteboard which he needed for work the next (In retrospect I could have chose a better sentence to test if a pen was permanant or not) all the way over to the big time cock ups, such as superman deciding to ride a horse.

I always feel one of my biggest was giving myself a leg injury that put my clean out of any sport for pretty much the next 15 years. I am determined to overcome this sooner but i have no idea how as of yet!

My all time biggest, will never be forgotton by my mates mistake is quite possibly getting stuck in a cattlegrid. Do not, under any cicumstances, ask.

What I want to know is what your biggest mistake is?

No holding back, post without a name if you want, but post your biggest misake, teh funnier the better!

Deviant Economics

I have started a new blog, based more on political and economical aspects of life,

Have a look at http://devinomics.blogspot.com!

A cure to the depressive posts

Where ever you may be right now, at work or at home i would be gratefull if you followed this post.

Take deep but gentle breaths, while at the same time stretching every muscle in your body, starting from the tips of your toes, up through your legs,and your back, slowly stretching out the tips of your fingers.

Let your mind drift off, let the subdued voices in the busy office or the faint sounds of traffic passing by your house fade into the background.

Imagine for a second that you are in a pure white marble room, infront of you is a door way with a soft pale light shining through it. Serenely you decide to walk through the door and feel the warmth of a summers day caress your skin. On either side of you are vivid purple flowers, trailing down a warm white marble staircase. you take a step down the staircase, and begin to notice the garden around you, a vivid green interspaced with dashes of colour from fragrant plants and the glittering of warm water from a fountain below.

You take another step and feel relaxed as the heat from the sun brings a warmth to skin. you notice the flowers on the banisters now also interspaced with reds and yellows, trailing down the banister.

Again you step down, seeing a bird fly across the cloudless blue sky on a perfect summers day, you close your eyes for a few seconds as you raise your face to feel the warmth of the sun carress your face and sooth your tired eyes.

You walk another step down and the fragrence from the beautiful plants around you invades your senses, the smell of pollen, nectar and honey is prevailant in the air, over the sound of the fountain you hear the rustle of the plants as a cooling summer breeze washes the warm air over your skin and flutters under your clothes.

As you step down onto the final step you notice a springyness in the fresh grass, willing you onwards, walking past a fountain you watch the play of water, rippling the otherise still water, causing glints of light to appear from the warm sun above. strolling down the grassy path, relaxed in every muscle of your body, you see a bench under the shade of a cherry tree, the blossom falling, carpetting the ground bellow with soft pale petals. You lay on the bench under the shadethe warm air moving gently over you. As you lay back you begin to count down in your head

10

you begin to relax, the falling blossom from the tree above floats gently past under the soft warming air of the summer.

9

you feel every muscle untense, your breathing begins to slow and your mind begins to clear from the days distractions.

8

you breath deeper and longer as you drift into a relaxed state, the birds begin to sing in the tree above.

7

you feel the warmth of the bench beneath you, you relax deeper into it as teh heat soothes your muscles.

6

you breath even slower, the faint smell of food cooking drafts through teh air, you hear the faroff sound of a childs laugh.

5

you drift into a dream like state, your eyelids droop as you rest

4

you breath slows gently getting slower and an even greater sense of relaxion seems was softly over your body

3

now so relaxed you can hardly feel yourself move in the warm air, each muscle in your body is comletely relaxed and your mind begins to clear of thoughts

2

breathing deeper still you mind clears completely, you feel slightly euphoric in the warm bench, safe protected and warm.

1

A feeling over relaxation overcomes you, every muscle in your slumbering body is relaxed and you feel a wave of happiness flow over your mind.

you think of the problem that has been effecting you, it is small and insignificant, you see teh problem infront of you as a glowing orb, a soft glowing colour, you begin to see ways around the small problem and even why it should not even exist. It shrinks even futher, till it fits softly in the palm of your hand. You now know that you have power over the problem, and can always overcome it.

It shrinks still futher, growing smaller and even smaller till you can now no longer even see it, now the problem is gone you feel significantly better about yourself. the warm air still plays across your skin and you wish move, you start to count slowly with a deep breath between each number.

1

.........

2

.........

3

.........

4

your breathing starts to speed up.

5

...

6

7 the heavyness in your eyelids begins to lift, you feel your mind awakening to teh world around you.

8 you realise whats around you and your perceptions increase.

9 breathing nearly normally you realise how relaxed all your muscles are, you begint to move thema gain after you realise tehy have been still for so long.

10 you feel yourself in a much more relaxed, happier state of mind, you start to move about, and begin to move and stretch all your muscles to wake yourself again.