Numbers.

I haven't blogged for a while but i was walking with a friend the other day and said friend said something about a number meaning something to him. I then got to thinking about what numbers mean something to me and here they are.

To start with 15: 15 is my lucky number though the reason isn't any sentimental reason. It's only because before i turned 15 i always thought that that was the age that i'd turn super cool and i'd reach the age where i would be super-fit, get a girlfriend and be the most popular guy ever... as it turns out nothing happened. Yet the number remained my lucky one nonetheless. I guess it represents hope and something to look forward to for me :D

Next 16: This number makes the list because at this age my mom was checking my hair for nits (never had them just to clarify) and she made a gasp of shock. Obviously i thought i had nits then in a twist if fate my mother founnd, and consequently pulled out, a grey hair. Yes i had a grey hair at 16.

16:2: This is here because when i was 16 it was the first time i got drunk without the supervison of my parents. It set the way for many other drunken nights out.

10: This is number of the Final Fantasy game that i first played. It was amazing and at once i was immersed in the epic storylines! I've played every game since.

18: The age that i became legal to drink in public places. This may have been a bad idea for the world to give me license to do this. Sorry to anything i've vomited on in the last 2 years.

I'm back again!

So this is my first post in what (blogger tells me) has been two months. I used to be so organised about this blogging business but alas uni work and other things kept me away. Firstly a few things that have changed:
1) I turned 20, went out, got drunk and was consequently sick the next day. Good times.
2) Ash went to wolverhampton and star city for the first time.
3) I got a strike on my first go at bowling.
4) I wore scrubs.
5) Tina stole my stethoscope.
6) My scrubs ripped and i exposed my Spiderman underwear to the whole club.
7) There was drama between Dan and some 16 year olds.
8) Dave turned 50.
9) I spent my first party sober and as the designated driver.
10) Glee returned to our screens.
11) I had a haircut.
12) I finished uni and handed work in early.

Now that you're all caught up i can talk about that main theme of this blog, which is really nothing at all. I suppose because i'll be starting 3rd year in a few months i should probably be getting on with sorting stuff out for uni but we all know that isn't going to happen! For now i feel i shall just spend my time relaxing and completing games/books and other recreational items. Glee is also going to be a major part of my life.
What i am doing though is, in tandem with several of my other friends, getting a house sorted for us to live in next year. It's all very exciting. I actually can't wait to move in with them all next year! So that's at least one productive thing i'll be doing over the summer, other than that i won't really be doing alot.
I assume that 90s night will also play a big part in my lifestyle too. Getting drunk there is awesome and i think at some point you all should try it out.

So changes and random crap sout of the way i'm going to log off now being as you're all up to speed.
See you soon!

Things that Rock!

A short blog about things that i think rock and make me happy.


Heroes - this is a given, considering it's me.

Glee - it is actually full of glee!

Epiphanies - those moments of pure clarity make everything seem good.

Those songs that make you think deeply/ make you happy to the core.

The freedom of having a car and knowing you can go anywhere.

Motorways - even getting lost on them is relaxing.

The cool side of the pillow and blanket.

The total relaxation before you fall asleep.

5 more minutes in bed.

Seeing uni friends after a holiday.

Spending lots of time with uni friends.

The sense of achievement - from work, academics, sports, games or just general success.

Meeting those happy people that make you smile.

The excitement of the airport before you go on holiday.

The thrill of flying.

The happiness you feel when you check your phone and you have lots of messages.

Having a best friend.

When you look in a mirror and think you look good today - in a non vain way.

Thin days.

Those stupid things that make you laugh uncontrollably for hours and hours on end.

The drunk where you don't feel sick - and you don't get a hangover in the morning.

Looking at the pictures after a drunk night out.

Playing with Cal's camera on his Mac.

The relief when work is over.

The full feeling after a good meal.

The 'wow' feeling when you see something incredible - views, art, dusk, dawn, the colour of the sky.

The sense of knowing after finishing a novel.

The excitement at starting the next book in a series - this can be a new book in general.

When you get something new - clothes, phone, book, game, gadgets, etc.

Realising that you have a pretty awesome life.


There are more things that make me happy but they aren't coming to mind so you'll have to wait for it.

Stay happy and think about what makes you smile.

Did i really need to be there?

Earlier this week my friends in Modern British Drama acted out a performance that they had been working on for the past few weeks. It was AWESOME! I won't get into the details though, I'll let them do that. Before i continue let me take you back to several (i can't remember the exact date) weeks ago where we had finished Life Writing and gone to the pub after said lesson when i was encouraged to sit in a class i was not enrolled in. For that one lesson i had an excuse; i would say that because two of the group weren't there i was standing in for them. I sat down and attempted to hide my face to remain undetected but the lecturer spotted me. She came over and asked (as you would) who i was and why i was there. As i explained she smiled and said she was ok that i was in the class. Joy, i was gaining free knowledge! I thought it would be a one time thing but no i was destined to be in that class for the rest of the term and will be going back after Easter.
I didn't just sit there though and after jokes about me being in the group i actually took on a role: light man. It was a lot of fun i'll tell you.
Anyway what I'm talking about is that for the past few weeks i attended all of my friends classes and their rehearsals, bumping up my time at uni dramatically. Yet i really enjoyed it: i got to spend more time with my friends and got to see some very good performances and was part of some amazingly funny rehearsals! It was nice to be part of a class without the stress of all the hand in work and i advise you all at one point, as long as you have the time obviously, to try this with a lecturer as nice as Vicky.
It hit me the other day that i actually spent more time over the last few weeks at uni doing things i didn't need to be doing rather than my actual lessons. Which was quite funny and even though i'm not getting a grade out of the work i don't regret a single thing about my extra time at uni especially because i spent more time with uni folk.
Go join a class you're not part of.

The Beauty of Males.

Ok just to clarify this blog is not, as the title seems to suggest a declaration of my homosexuality (even though most of you wouldn't be surprised), it is in fact a blog about male beauty.

I got to thinking about this when my parents, in their loving way, told me after i offhandedly said i had dry skin that i should use moisturiser or i would get wrinkles at an early age. I ignored this for a while until i decided to give it a go. So for the past few days i have been putting moisturiser on my face. I have no idea if anyone had noticed because i can't say i have but please let me know if you have.
Anyway whilst moisturising one day i got to thinking about other things males do to look 'good' today. I am fully aware that there are many programmes dedicated to this topic but i thought i'd write about it. I mean i watched a programme on 4od a few weeks ago called 'Extreme Male Beauty.' I advise you to watch it, it's very entertaining. It featured Tim Shaw over 8 weeks trying to get his body into the likeness of what we all see everyday: 6 packs, chiseled features, big packages. Some of it was a bit extreme; he drank his own wee. But at the end of the 8 weeks he did look amazing and very physically fit. Yet despite this he went into a pub to show off his new look to his friends and wife and they all said it wasn't him; his wife had been saying all the way through that he didn't need to change.
I looked up about the male beauty thing and being envious of those lucky bastards that look like they were carved out of marble is called the 'Adonis Complex.' I won't lie i have this. I worry a lot about, not the way i look persay, but how fat i look. Yet i don't let this take over my life, it would never stop me doing things, unless they were majorly physical and i actually couldn't do it! But everyone said Mr Shaw seemed happier the way he was and it made me think why can't everyone be happy the way they are. Obviously if you're obese and it's dangerous then do something but a bit of podge never hurt anyone.
Saying that i have started running and swimming but that's because i'm not happy with the way i look and that's my choice. I don't know whether it's because of all the media images or just that i have some fit friends or just me wanting to actually be fit. Either way it's my choice and if you're not happy then you should do what you can to make you happy. I do it for myself, not for anyone else, they can think what they want of me. However that is just on physical fitness: there is a limit.
When it gets to a point where a guys daily cleaning routine takes more than say an hour/ hour and a half then i'd say there was a problem. Taking ages to do their hair, exfoliating, moisturising, wearing make-up...

Tangent! - Only certain types of make-up, eye liner is fine. Band images, it suits some people, they want to. But i feel using concealer takes things a bit far.

... is a bit strange in my eyes. I know that this is all just my opinion and if guys want to use make-up, spend ages on their appearance and obsess about the way they look then i support that, It's their decision. I just think the media puts too much attention on men using all these products to look 'perfect' and that we don't actually need all of it; it just gets us worried. The same goes for women too, especially my female friends who look stunning all of the time but don't believe me when i say it.
Don't get me wrong these products can help but i think what's underneath is more important and that most guys look fine without any help. I don't consider myself to be amazingly attractive but i wouldn't say i was hideously ugly either. I get by without using all of this product (though i am still single so maybe i should start :P ) and i, for one, won't start to buy into all of this mega male beauty stuff.

So at the end of my blog i realise that it's been full of contradictions and backtracks but i didn't want to offend anyone. I just wanted to say i thought it was going a bit far.
Stay cool.

Zombies beware.

So after i've killed my family and consoled myself about that, I can carry on on my survival spree.

I take the car keys and go outside, start up the car and drive to a place in West Brom called kat's tats. It's a tattoo parlor but also has a weapons store opposite. The streets as i drive are deserted and i'm alert just in case anything jumps out at me. Being as it's deserted i speed quite happily through the roads where i'd usually be a good boy and stick to the speed limit.
I reach West Brom and cautiously walk out towards the shop. The high street again is deserted yet i can see some of the walking dead all the way down the street, shuffling aimlessly. I push open the door to the shop and enter into the gloom. The shop owner whom i've seen several times is gnawing on some dead woman. As i enter he looks up and lumbers towards me. I could easily outrun him but to save myself any hassle later i duck out of his clutches and plunge my knife into his head. He goes limp and falls to the floor, my knife is stuck. Bollocks. I am now weaponless. I know there are more upstairs so i tip toe up the stairs. My heart is pounding in my chest. I reach the top of the stairs, relief floods through me as i see no one. I make straight for the weapons part, anyone in the tattoo part would probably rather eat me at this point. I look around at the selection of weapons and decide to carry as much as i can and if i have time to come back so i'm doubly prepared. As i start collecting i hear a noise behind me. The big guy who usually does the tattoos is growling in the doorway, gore hanging from his mouth. With surprising speed he lunges and me pinning me under him. I struggle frantically, grapsing around for anything to use as a weapon.


And i need to go and meet my bestie so i'm off for now. Kill those zombies.

Apocalypse!

After a recent facebook incident with a zombie quiz (again i apologise, especially to kurt) i got to thinking about what i and other people would do if a zombie attack would actually happen. I know that some of my friends are terrified of this happening so maybe this blog will offer them some advice on how to survive.

Me personally i would like to think that i'd become one of those mega bad asses that get loads of guns and shoots the walking dead to smithereens. So this is my fantasy about waking up to find the world has been infected with zombieism:


I wake up and get that weird feeling that something is wrong, deep down in my gut. Still i tell myself it's just a feeling and head downstairs. As i reach the landing there are blood stains all on the walls and i hear a kind of squelching sound. My heart starts to race but i brave it and walk towards the squelch. I walk into the bathroom and find my sister, with the side of her face missing, devouring the contents of my dad's stomach. I scream, as you do, alerting my zombie sibling. She growls at me and makes a grab for me. I turn and run the computer room aiming to get up the ladders into my room whilst the zombie stumbles after me. I slam the door into her making her fall backwards and barricade the door. I calm myself and think how i'm going to get out of this. I go upstairs and get dressed (in something kooky because no one now cares what people look like) and get the weapons that i have, knives, daggers, gun, etc. So in super cool gear and armed up i go to face my dead sister.
I pull away the barricade and in she lunges. I crack her on the head with the butt of my gun and then shoot her dead in the face. Instant kill. Sorry sis. I decide to get in the car and find some more weapons and if applicable some living people. I make my way down stairs. As i pass the bathroom Zombie dad attacks me. I fall to the floor in panic, wrestle out a blade whilst holding his mouth away and stab him in the head. After pushing him off me i go downstairs. i'm being very cautious and i hear a choked moan in the front room. I enter ti find my mom staring out the window. She looks normal and relief floods through me. I hopefully walk forward, reach out and touch her shoulder, 'Mom, are you ok? Something crazy is happening!' No luck here she turns round with a gaping hole in her chest. She growls and tries to grab me. I fall over in typical American horror flick style, losing my knife and gun (obviously). I shuffle backwards as zombie mom ambles forward, hunger blazing in her eyes. She advances on me, in a rush i kick out; i shatter her knee cap and she collapses on the floor. I stand up but she grabs my leg and raises her mouth. I struggle then kick her in the head: i hear a load crack and she goes limp. After the realisation of what i've just done kicks in i heave and then vomit. I come to the conclusion that what i did was necessary, and resolve to carry on living.

Back to me, i know this blog is a bit long so i'll end it there ... for now. I shall continue my zombie adventure soon so stay tuned.
Oh and this post is dedicated to Matt Frost, our resident zombie nut and Kurt Rees, who can use this advice to survive on the slim chance it ever happens.