I wrote the guts of this entry on Saturday, so it'll generally reflect the thoughts of the time...
Oh good Lord my ass just had the longest conversation with the toilet. I am feeling drained! Not that you needed to now that, just I thought I'd enlighten you all as to how relieved I'm feeling at this point in time.
I've decided to lie in the sun, generally just to have a lazy day. You know when you've got shit all else to do, so you just make the most of the warm weather and sit on the cool, fresh grass? I'm sure back in Lancaster, you've come to enjoy the weather, either instead of revision or as part of it. Anyway, some good company and a relaxing activity wouldn't go amiss but over all, life is good. You can't ask for much more than what I've got; sunshine, pen, paper and a gigantic watermelon (to help me feel extra "negarious") and the sweet sound of bird song. I thought I'd write a movie review or two to entertain y'all. Do a write up of what I've bore witness to in thelast week, but I think I'll reiterate something I said last time.
Cycling wasted = amazing
Last night I met up with some Danish friends, grabbed about twenty beers between five of us and sat out in my yard drinking and smoking (speaking ow which, that brown stuff from Morocco is in Norn Irish slang "wile parful!") till about eleven. I then went to meet up with the other ten Lancastrians in town. My method of transport - city rent-a-bike. Not only is this potentially dangerous and moronic, but it is also great fun! You go flying at great speeds as if you're Ghost Rider on fire, you feel every bump, surface and contour of the road and you never feel tired. Perhaps best of all, when I woke up I felt like I had lost twenty pounds and consequently spent about five minutes thismorning still admiring my washboard stomach in the bathroom mirror, before realizing I was till out of it and that my torso wasn't as handsome as I first believed.
Still.. I'd do the whole thing in a heartbeat..
Sadly, when I got to town, things didn't work out to plan as much as we hoped. The bar/club we planned on attending was more expensive than we planned, so we spent some time faffing around and perhaps as a combination of a multitude of grumblings (myself included), animosity kind of killed some of the previously good vibe. All well and forgotten about the next day as far as I'm aware.
At this point, I stopped writing to talk to some Aussie hippy in my large, communal back garden. Flash forward to Sunday and I'm in the garden again..
My ma was supposed to be here today, but in true Charlton style (I've been stuck in Liverpool, living on the good grace of friends twice!), she missed her flight out. It's a shame for two reasons:
a) I was looking forward to seeing her today. I planned on taking her to a number of art galleries and museums to entertain and amuse her, all of which are closed on a Monday.
b) I passed up three opportunities to wet my willy.
The first, a salsa club which this short Borat-lookalike mofo invited me to. I'd met him a bar when I was waiting for the English crowd to appear, who were in a packed out Irish pub watching the Champion's league final, which ended much later than expected. So Borat and I played some chess before proceeding to chat up a series of women in and around the bar. Two of which were these good looking Polish girls, who invited me out on Saturday night as well. I think one liked the look of me and I would be lying if I said the thought wasn't mutual.
Lastly, but far from least was an invite from the previously mentioned Danish bag-head friends who I spent Friday night drinking and smoking with. They were planning on getting diddly at a house party and I probably would have joined them if it weren't for the mother situation and my apparent lack of sunglasses (God damnit! Where are my £2 Primark aviators?!)
Now, I know looking for opportunities leading to nookie is in a way, a little pathetic, but I'll make what I perceive to be a very valid point; this is the 21st century, I'm a man. We are believed to think about sex every six seconds.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Yeap, I thought about it. Perhaps because there's a tasty looking scrumpet in a bikini lying on the lawn a few meters away from me, but consider the theory proven for now. Not only this, but as society seems to suggest - everyones doing it. So, I feel like I'm missing out. Due to my very peculiar style of "charm", my lack of effort to pursue and rather average looks, opportunities don't come around that often. The current dry spell I'm experiencing only tends to add insult to injury, though it could be worse. I could have long make out sessions with that lead only to failed escalation and the most painful, common affliction known to modern man: blue ball.
Now, I'd say I'm far from a sleaze ball womanizer. I like exchanging laddish humour involving shit innuendos, but often enough I buzz off female interaction and don't need anything else other than a nice chat. Generally I'm not a sleep around kind of guy (though the question always arises, would be if I could?). I've had some fairly meaningless moments, the odd one night stand but I tend to be more about pursuing a girl I meet when I'm sober and grow to become besotted with.
Anyone thinking with a feminine mindset might be thinking "awww that's really sweet.." but don't say it. This is nightmarish..
Once you put on a pedestal, you're ruined. When you're around the girl, your rational thoughts are replaced with lovey dovey nervousness. You spend half of the day thinking about her too, failing to achieve as much as you normally would. In addition, you try too hard and its painfully obvious. You start turning up to things you wouldn't normally go to if it weren't for the fact you know she'll be there. You check her facebook/bebo constantly to see if anyone else is in the picture and your mind just generally obsesses. Not once in my lifetime has this ever worked out. But I wonder if it would, would I be so interested. It's one of those things - what we can't have, we often want more.
When you focus your life on other things than trying to woo somebody, you become more attractive. You can charm a multitude of people in no time at all. Its similar to being unavailable or in high demand - you are instantly more attractive.
Take Easter holidays. I met this girl on a Monday night whilst winged/diddly/off my tits. We got on well so we went home together and hung out for much of the week, (though its never really the same sober as it is in the initial state). Thursday night and I'm out again. I know I'll be meeting up with the same girl later on and I'm also out with my friends for his birthday. I don't really care about flirting/meeting other girls, yet I'm approached by a number of different girls on a number (I remember at least two, the night got a little bit hazy) of different occasions. In my eyes, this helps strengthen my people wanting what they can't have theory. Maybe this is because you give out some vibe of coolness and confidence without any signs of desperation, but I also find if you talk about somebody you're into, or a girlfriend in positive light, other girls will hang off your every word. There was one time in a bar back in the Summer where the legendary Matt and I were just generally chatting to about three girls, just chilling out, having few beers after work. The girls were loving it, despite our situations (both of us had other girls in the picture) and were at the point where they were buying us beers to keep us around. It begs the question, if you were to fabricate a girlfriend in the middle of a conversation, would you be more tempting?
So, back to the here and now.. I'm killing off more time by writing before the day is over by writing (Sundays bore me - being dragged to Church as a kid has made me grow up with the conception of the Lord's day, where we can't do shit - mostly because everything used to be closed on a Sunday and still is in Denmark) and perhaps some reading. I could do with some company, or even some exercise, but to attain them both require the same thing I lack at this moment in time: effort.
Maybe the hippy guy who I owe a fiver to for a lump of hash will appear to tell me some more history about Denmark and Christianna in particular, or tell me he's found me a job in an Irish bar or somebody will give me a call asking for a chat and a beer. Generally though, my main concern is digesting the chicken kebab wrap swimming in my stomach and to tell you a little bit about some movies worth/not worth seeing.
At the Cinema
Indianna Jones and the Temple of the Crystal Skull ***
Ack, it's alright, but with a lot of movies I tend to nitpick. Its quite good fun but gets a little too silly towards the end by paying too much homage to not just the old Indy films, but to 50's B movies and ends up with a nostalgic effect, meaning everything looks really cheap and tacky. Lazy sets and props accompanied by additional cheesy characters (never with the same flair as Indy) and hammy acting. It's not as good as Raiders though and you never feel sucked into its nonsense as you do in the previous films.
Iron Man ****
Robert Downey Jr. is Tony Stark. I don't mean he plays the role of the industrial entrepreneur, I mean he was born for the role. He lives, breathes and becomes the playboy turned superhero. As a film, its well paced, nicely shot and accompanied with some witty writing. Its second only to Batman Begins for the best superhero movie title and could only have been improved if the end fight scene was a little bit more intense. It shits on Spider-man from a great height and a surprise that all comic fan boys will love appears right in the end, so stay after the credits if its your type of thing. All I'm saying is 2010 will be a good year for the Marvel nerd.
Blade Runner: Final Cut ****
The only time I'd seen Blade runner was during a channel five screening, complete with bad reception and the fact I was using the computer at the same time. This is akin to watching an on-flight movie. You can never relax, have your elbow bashed by the passing food trolley, are constantly interrupted and yearn for more cashew nuts halfway through the climax. This time though, I was treated to it on the biggest screen in Northern Europe with a steady supply of nuts, right to end. In short, I loved it. You empathize with Ford's character as he is outclassed and constantly taking a beating by the hands of the other android replicants. Along with this Rutger Hauer is also scary as shit in this dark epic. Just go see it.
DVD
Gabriel ***
This was an extremely low budget Aussie film that would have been any Goth's wet dream in the nineties. Its like Underworld/The Crow/The Matrix/Blade Runner/Sin City. There are cool characters, but the finished product is kind of sloppy. It was nicely shot, directed and interestingly edited though. I'd say, catch it for something a little bit different, but you could pick gaping flaws out about it.
Resident Evil Extinction ** (and a half)
Vaguely entertaining Zombie flick with no bearing on your existance other than the brilliant joint smoking scene.
Catch Me If You Can ****
I know it's been out ofr a while, but I only saw it the whole way through a few days ago. It is mint. Wittily written and with great comic timing and terrific performances from both the lead actors. Imagine the life DeCaprio's character was living at the age eighteen.. that would be amazing..
This was typed up on Wednesday, so tune in next week whether I've found employment in an Irish pub, have gotten my slice of poontang pie, how I review Danish beer brands and how telling my Mother I do drugs went..
In a bitty Mcvitty..
Conor
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
So after my first feel good rant, I think I'll discuss the merits of being in Copenhagen on an Erasmus scheme with ten other students from Lancs. After all, it beats the hell out of watching Beverly hills ninety thousand two hundred and ten as I try to beat this minor hangover (1). So, here's a bit of background to my current series of adventures..
Now, as most of you know I'm a second year history student at Lancaster, though I took a year out to be a bum.
By bum, I mean I "attempted" to do extra A-levels - chemistry and biology to be precise. I started off with good intentions, but a mixture of not trying quite hard enough, coming into class still tired from the night before and not quite having as scientifically minded brain as I once imagined, I crashed and burned. By Christmas, the one year A-level became an AS chemistry and I was still doing hideously at biology. That year wasn't all to waste though, I picked up a couple of social skills along the way by having the legendary Matt and Mike living in the street next to me, learned a number of things like the ancient art of drinking (I sucked severely at anything soldierly, could neither shoot, march or keep my uniform in good shape, whilst having to clutch onto my rifle as I did sentry duty in the middle of a cold, dark, Scottish forest at 3 am near sent me over the edge) by way of Queen's Officer's Training Corps. and developed a tactical mind by playing copious amounts of trading card games in my favorite comic shop. Regrets? A few. Some days I see it as a wasted year and other days I see it as perfect timing, after all it was undoubtedly one of the best years of my life.. Things only got better after that point
Straight to university and I would have had a completely different experience, probably picked a crap college and associated with a bunch of people that are simply inferior to the almighty House 28 Crew. The crew, (amongst a few others) were the gentlemen I was cohabiting with in the first two terms of this year, having met them last year, their on campus accommodation was opposite mine. The series of misadventures we have had are absolutely priceless. For sure I'll give a write up of a couple sometime, but I need to get back onto the subject at hand: Copenhagen.
To define Denmark in five words: Amazing, interesting, beautiful and well.. excruciatingly-expensive
Seriously, if I spend less than £20 a day, I feel proud. Maybe that's partly down to the fact I'm constantly out drinking and whilst a pint of the beer is about much tastier than it would be back home, it still will cost £4.50. Also, a meal out is probably double the price it would be back home. This is down to the fact that the service charge is included in the meal and minimum wage in Denmark is £8. That's right, -minimum wage-. Best of all, only places like McDonalds or Burger King pay as low as that. Give me a good job and the ability to seduce delicious Danish dames and I'd be set for life.
As for the city though, there is so much to do and it has a character of its own. Instead of the harsh concrete jungle surroundings of London or Glasgow, the houses and buildings are beautifully designed and put together. Its like you're back in the renaissance period without the stench of open sewers running through the streets. Its safe too. I know my way around Belfast alright and how to make it home with relatively little incident late at night, but I'm still going to be on edge if I'm trying to get home. In Copenhagen, I feel like the most dangerous person on the street half the time. Even if it weren't for the fact I'm tall and getting kind of stocky from my beer drinking habits, I'd still feel as safe as a house. Even the "bad" neighborhoods (a place called Norrebro used to have high levels of crime, it has the odd gang problem which rappers from here like to go on about, but its generally safe-as) are nothing in comparison to even the good areas of Manchester.
Getting around Copenhagen is also by and large a piece of piss (I'll qualify that statement in a moment) Despite having a population of 1.5 million, the place still feels kind of small. The canal and marina seems to run through most of the town so you always feel close to water. The transport system is pretty good, buses, trains and the metro system are consistent and tend to run on time. The only issue is that if you're out late, you might have to get take a night bus home, which runs about once an hour and has an excessively long route.
The people in Copenhagen are fantastic. Friendly, easy going and likable. They will go out of their way to help you, nine times out of ten. That and they speak brilliant English and often love an opportunity to practice and improve their multi-lingual skills - much like I want to improve my cunnylingual skills with their women, (though statements like this are why I probably never will..). Just make sure you don't look like you're trying to get them to sign up to some charity scheme because just like every other city, they'll probably walk straight past you.
So without further ado, here's a list of five things you should do whilst in Denmark
1) Visit some of the many interesting tourist attractions - though the Little Mermaid statue is hideously overrated, there are tons of great museums and art galleries I need to get round to going to, just so I can get a bit more cultural and sophisticated than my bag headed self. From the theme park Tivoli, to the ginormous screen of the Imperial cinema, there is a multitude of things to do. See some castles..
2) Drink Danish beers - By this I mean, sensibly. Beer is the quickest way of achieving "hygge", a Danish word that can be very loosely translated as comfort, cosiness, confidence and Carlsberg. I'll probably discuss the history and the ins and outs of the different beer brands in another post.
3) Listen to some live music. This can be done almost anywhere, there are tons of great jazz clubs scattered around the place and they can make a great way to spend a Saturday night whenever there aren't seedy old men staring with big sleazy eyes at the innocent females of your group of friends.
4) Eat around. The food here, whether you cook it yourself or buy it from a restaurant is expensive, but you pay for what you get. Last night we went to a Caribbean cafe and I ate like I hadn't anything in a month. On Sunday after taking a trip to Kronborg castle we had the biggest feed courtesy of one of our Danish friend's families. Its like the best thing I had eaten in about two months. And thats part due to "Rødgrød med fløde", which is this desert thing they have, kind of like a creamy strawberry and rhubarb puree. Danish people will always want you to say the words as they are notoriously difficult to pronounce by someone who isn't a native Danish speaker. As well as all of this, you'll soon find a love for the hot dog stands they have here, twice as good as going to Maccie Ds for some processed shite.
5) Exercise/Get around the city. A walk around or a cycle ride every now and then goes a long way. Especially since there are many things to see and many beautiful people to admire. If you go to a park on a good day, you'll find you're surrounded by good looking women and completely outclassed by the guys that live there
Here's five things you shouldn't do:
1) Sit around indoors all day. Yes, it goes without saying, but its about time I stopped doing it. On days that I don't have class, I'm often watching a multitude of DVDs provided by my awesome landlord and landlady. Instead of letting my body go slack and getting fat from beer and inactivity, I should be going to the gym, going for more of a walk and visiting museums. In a way I'm looking forward to going home so I can get a job and have some money to spend on muay thai classes and guitar lessons (either that or jazz trumpet, I'm determined to develop something)
2) Get wasted on an almost day-to-day basis. This began as soon as I got here and it hasn't really stopped. From Tuesday to Sunday of last week I was pretty much without any sort of solid sobriety. I got to the point where I had hair of the dog, then a whole lot more. Far from healthy, but very never the less enjoyable. The fact is, it can be incredibly easy to do, you can get 4.6% beers for about 35p. Bring the bottle back and you get 10p back. If you get a room in Christianshavn, like I did you can be right next to Christianna, a former hippy commune nicknamed "Little Amsterdam". I don't think I need to elaborate too much on this one, lets just say.. when you set it on fire, there are certain effects..
The other problem with getting messy is that it doesn't really help you pick up as many Danish women as you'd like. Whilst I can admit to feeling more confident from drinking a beer or two before I begin a conversation, the more beer you have the more crazy your eyes go and the more incomprehensible you sound.
3) Attempt to pick fights in Copenhagen. In a drunken temper, I gave a bit of abuse to the odd person. Told a goth that he had something wrong with his face "man, there's black stuff coming out of your eyes". Worst thing is, I have no problem with goths. A moment before, I yelled at the security guards for not allowing me upstairs in a burger king without buying something. There's a couple more, but lets just say picking fights is not funny (well it can be), clever or cool.
4) Make friends with a bunch of Danish bag heads. This is kind of a repeat of options two and three, you'll end up drinking and smoking far more than you ever have in your life. Think you have a high tolerance to chemicals in your body? Think again. You cannot compete with the Danes in this respect. I'll probably go through them another time, but the best way to describe them is good company, bad influence. Last time I saw them, they were trying to encourage me to go to a Brondby F.C. game and potentially start a fight with the F.C. Copenhagen supporters, luckily I had to go to a castle and haven't ended up in a string of riots or police issues
5) Try to beat the Danish transport system. This goes on two counts. The first one is trying to temporarily steal a bike. its not that I wanted to keep the bikes, its just that I didn't want to walk or take the bus home. I planned on cycling it home the next day and the fact was, like so many nights.. I was drunk. Most of the bike wheels were locked anyway and in the end I managed to find a city rent a bike that actually worked, so I was only guilty of one crime that night - drunk in charge of a bicycle.
The other count is on not paying for bus, train and metro fares, by flashing my out of date pass as if it were an L.A.P.D. badge and not giving them a chance to check the date on it. I'm going to have to renew my pass sooner, rather than later. Its a hefty fine for being a bag head.
Well, thus concludes another happy and exciting blog. Leave a comment and hear something new. Oh, a shout out to the very attention seeking Danny Hilton who ought to be thanked for showing me how to make the good bolognaise, I mentioned in the last entry :P.
Hi Hi
Now, as most of you know I'm a second year history student at Lancaster, though I took a year out to be a bum.
By bum, I mean I "attempted" to do extra A-levels - chemistry and biology to be precise. I started off with good intentions, but a mixture of not trying quite hard enough, coming into class still tired from the night before and not quite having as scientifically minded brain as I once imagined, I crashed and burned. By Christmas, the one year A-level became an AS chemistry and I was still doing hideously at biology. That year wasn't all to waste though, I picked up a couple of social skills along the way by having the legendary Matt and Mike living in the street next to me, learned a number of things like the ancient art of drinking (I sucked severely at anything soldierly, could neither shoot, march or keep my uniform in good shape, whilst having to clutch onto my rifle as I did sentry duty in the middle of a cold, dark, Scottish forest at 3 am near sent me over the edge) by way of Queen's Officer's Training Corps. and developed a tactical mind by playing copious amounts of trading card games in my favorite comic shop. Regrets? A few. Some days I see it as a wasted year and other days I see it as perfect timing, after all it was undoubtedly one of the best years of my life.. Things only got better after that point
Straight to university and I would have had a completely different experience, probably picked a crap college and associated with a bunch of people that are simply inferior to the almighty House 28 Crew. The crew, (amongst a few others) were the gentlemen I was cohabiting with in the first two terms of this year, having met them last year, their on campus accommodation was opposite mine. The series of misadventures we have had are absolutely priceless. For sure I'll give a write up of a couple sometime, but I need to get back onto the subject at hand: Copenhagen.
To define Denmark in five words: Amazing, interesting, beautiful and well.. excruciatingly-expensive
Seriously, if I spend less than £20 a day, I feel proud. Maybe that's partly down to the fact I'm constantly out drinking and whilst a pint of the beer is about much tastier than it would be back home, it still will cost £4.50. Also, a meal out is probably double the price it would be back home. This is down to the fact that the service charge is included in the meal and minimum wage in Denmark is £8. That's right, -minimum wage-. Best of all, only places like McDonalds or Burger King pay as low as that. Give me a good job and the ability to seduce delicious Danish dames and I'd be set for life.
As for the city though, there is so much to do and it has a character of its own. Instead of the harsh concrete jungle surroundings of London or Glasgow, the houses and buildings are beautifully designed and put together. Its like you're back in the renaissance period without the stench of open sewers running through the streets. Its safe too. I know my way around Belfast alright and how to make it home with relatively little incident late at night, but I'm still going to be on edge if I'm trying to get home. In Copenhagen, I feel like the most dangerous person on the street half the time. Even if it weren't for the fact I'm tall and getting kind of stocky from my beer drinking habits, I'd still feel as safe as a house. Even the "bad" neighborhoods (a place called Norrebro used to have high levels of crime, it has the odd gang problem which rappers from here like to go on about, but its generally safe-as) are nothing in comparison to even the good areas of Manchester.
Getting around Copenhagen is also by and large a piece of piss (I'll qualify that statement in a moment) Despite having a population of 1.5 million, the place still feels kind of small. The canal and marina seems to run through most of the town so you always feel close to water. The transport system is pretty good, buses, trains and the metro system are consistent and tend to run on time. The only issue is that if you're out late, you might have to get take a night bus home, which runs about once an hour and has an excessively long route.
The people in Copenhagen are fantastic. Friendly, easy going and likable. They will go out of their way to help you, nine times out of ten. That and they speak brilliant English and often love an opportunity to practice and improve their multi-lingual skills - much like I want to improve my cunnylingual skills with their women, (though statements like this are why I probably never will..). Just make sure you don't look like you're trying to get them to sign up to some charity scheme because just like every other city, they'll probably walk straight past you.
So without further ado, here's a list of five things you should do whilst in Denmark
1) Visit some of the many interesting tourist attractions - though the Little Mermaid statue is hideously overrated, there are tons of great museums and art galleries I need to get round to going to, just so I can get a bit more cultural and sophisticated than my bag headed self. From the theme park Tivoli, to the ginormous screen of the Imperial cinema, there is a multitude of things to do. See some castles..
2) Drink Danish beers - By this I mean, sensibly. Beer is the quickest way of achieving "hygge", a Danish word that can be very loosely translated as comfort, cosiness, confidence and Carlsberg. I'll probably discuss the history and the ins and outs of the different beer brands in another post.
3) Listen to some live music. This can be done almost anywhere, there are tons of great jazz clubs scattered around the place and they can make a great way to spend a Saturday night whenever there aren't seedy old men staring with big sleazy eyes at the innocent females of your group of friends.
4) Eat around. The food here, whether you cook it yourself or buy it from a restaurant is expensive, but you pay for what you get. Last night we went to a Caribbean cafe and I ate like I hadn't anything in a month. On Sunday after taking a trip to Kronborg castle we had the biggest feed courtesy of one of our Danish friend's families. Its like the best thing I had eaten in about two months. And thats part due to "Rødgrød med fløde", which is this desert thing they have, kind of like a creamy strawberry and rhubarb puree. Danish people will always want you to say the words as they are notoriously difficult to pronounce by someone who isn't a native Danish speaker. As well as all of this, you'll soon find a love for the hot dog stands they have here, twice as good as going to Maccie Ds for some processed shite.
5) Exercise/Get around the city. A walk around or a cycle ride every now and then goes a long way. Especially since there are many things to see and many beautiful people to admire. If you go to a park on a good day, you'll find you're surrounded by good looking women and completely outclassed by the guys that live there
Here's five things you shouldn't do:
1) Sit around indoors all day. Yes, it goes without saying, but its about time I stopped doing it. On days that I don't have class, I'm often watching a multitude of DVDs provided by my awesome landlord and landlady. Instead of letting my body go slack and getting fat from beer and inactivity, I should be going to the gym, going for more of a walk and visiting museums. In a way I'm looking forward to going home so I can get a job and have some money to spend on muay thai classes and guitar lessons (either that or jazz trumpet, I'm determined to develop something)
2) Get wasted on an almost day-to-day basis. This began as soon as I got here and it hasn't really stopped. From Tuesday to Sunday of last week I was pretty much without any sort of solid sobriety. I got to the point where I had hair of the dog, then a whole lot more. Far from healthy, but very never the less enjoyable. The fact is, it can be incredibly easy to do, you can get 4.6% beers for about 35p. Bring the bottle back and you get 10p back. If you get a room in Christianshavn, like I did you can be right next to Christianna, a former hippy commune nicknamed "Little Amsterdam". I don't think I need to elaborate too much on this one, lets just say.. when you set it on fire, there are certain effects..
The other problem with getting messy is that it doesn't really help you pick up as many Danish women as you'd like. Whilst I can admit to feeling more confident from drinking a beer or two before I begin a conversation, the more beer you have the more crazy your eyes go and the more incomprehensible you sound.
3) Attempt to pick fights in Copenhagen. In a drunken temper, I gave a bit of abuse to the odd person. Told a goth that he had something wrong with his face "man, there's black stuff coming out of your eyes". Worst thing is, I have no problem with goths. A moment before, I yelled at the security guards for not allowing me upstairs in a burger king without buying something. There's a couple more, but lets just say picking fights is not funny (well it can be), clever or cool.
4) Make friends with a bunch of Danish bag heads. This is kind of a repeat of options two and three, you'll end up drinking and smoking far more than you ever have in your life. Think you have a high tolerance to chemicals in your body? Think again. You cannot compete with the Danes in this respect. I'll probably go through them another time, but the best way to describe them is good company, bad influence. Last time I saw them, they were trying to encourage me to go to a Brondby F.C. game and potentially start a fight with the F.C. Copenhagen supporters, luckily I had to go to a castle and haven't ended up in a string of riots or police issues
5) Try to beat the Danish transport system. This goes on two counts. The first one is trying to temporarily steal a bike. its not that I wanted to keep the bikes, its just that I didn't want to walk or take the bus home. I planned on cycling it home the next day and the fact was, like so many nights.. I was drunk. Most of the bike wheels were locked anyway and in the end I managed to find a city rent a bike that actually worked, so I was only guilty of one crime that night - drunk in charge of a bicycle.
The other count is on not paying for bus, train and metro fares, by flashing my out of date pass as if it were an L.A.P.D. badge and not giving them a chance to check the date on it. I'm going to have to renew my pass sooner, rather than later. Its a hefty fine for being a bag head.
Well, thus concludes another happy and exciting blog. Leave a comment and hear something new. Oh, a shout out to the very attention seeking Danny Hilton who ought to be thanked for showing me how to make the good bolognaise, I mentioned in the last entry :P.
Hi Hi
Friday, May 16, 2008
You know the way some people don't learn from one mistake and make the same mistake again?
Well it appears I might be making this mistake for the third time. The difference is, this time I hope to have no regrets.
The problem was last time, not to do with the blog, but its content or rather, its writer.
Back when I was in sixth form, I was lacking severely in the social skills department. Hell, I didn't even kiss a girl until I was seventeen. Now, that my friends is slow development.
I'd like to think I've matured a little since then, but apart from having some (apparent) social skills, being somewhat less frustrated with the world (alright, it's been a while since I've got any but I'm trying to rely on luck, a ridiculously over-the-top Norn Irish accent and uhhh.. "good looks"), I'm still about as dozy and in my own little dream as I always was. This time though, I have a plan.
As the saying goes, desperate times call for desperate measures and well.. I'm counting on loans coming through for me and being in Copenhagen (the expensive but beautiful city that it is), am running out of money fast. If there's a problem with the loans (there always is whenever I fill forms in), I'm pretty screwed. Sure, I can probably yelp at the parents and demand stipends to keep me going, but I resent having to do that. As I showed in Christmas, I'll work 56 hour weeks just so I don't have to borrow any money from them to keep me going.
Now some people might wonder why I'm so fiercely committed to being financially independent from the old folks and so I'll explain why.
Whenever you're an only child, you can't do any wrong. Further more, with the adapting personality I have (despite never not being "myself", I've a different personality for every event and group of people I'm with.. being with me in a group is different to being one on one with me - call me "fake" if you want to, but I can't help it) I try and do my best for my parents when I'm at home, even act like the charming golden boy they believe I am. In reality, I'm chonging almost every day, drink way more than they believe I should (let me ask who doesn't in this day and age?) and partial to trying the odd "other" substance. If you really want, I'll recount some of my experiences someday in the very peculiar style of storytelling you're so used to reading from me.
To those of you who aren't used to reading my blog and are wondering what this is all about, I'll explain;
Back when I was 16-17 (lower sixth), I decided to write a blog - an internet diary if you will. Not only was this a dumb idea, but I decided telling a lot of people was a good idea.
Now, if I had been one of the "popular" kids at school, I might just have gotten away with it. However, having the athletic ability of a lame sea otter, I could barely swim, run or row. I was picked last for everything, with good reason. My competitive streak was based mostly on Magic the Gathering, or computer games. I'd always try and start talking about computer games right in the middle of somebody else's conversation - despite the fact they'd be discussing the pros and cons of 4-4-2 formation or the location of the G-spot, two things the "jocks" knew about and which I didn't have a clue, the former for lack of wanting to have a clue.
The other problem was that I could never take being made fun of. Which being as dozy as I am meant that I was going to have a lot of things being made fun of. Not least because I have an inherent belief I can be friends with everybody and try to at all times, which backfires more than it needs to. So, I'd get really angsty and you could see that in my blogs, I'd lash out at other people when often they were doing what any normal human being would do - have fun, occasionally at someone else's expense.
It was like reading the diary of a modern day Holden Caulfield (Catcher in the Rye) without the wit, charm and influence on serial killers that J.D. Salinger was able to write with. The blog was perhaps like Catcher, emo before emo was "cool". It didn't have as much fear of being buggered by old school teachers, but it was still written by somebody who felt they were different. Maybe I wasn't as big an outcast as I sometimes believe, I know I had a fair few friends, but my attempts at being class clown resulted more in being village idiot. Clueless was probably the best word you could have used to describe me.
Funnily enough though, the blog picked up attention by pretty much half of the school. It came to a point that print outs of the site were being littered around the actual buildings and every other computer in a computer suite had at least one IE window open with charlto.blogspot in the URL bar. This was partly on the basis that I said a lot about my classmates (the goings on of the entire year really) and partly on the account of my writing style, which arguably shows more intelligence than the near incomprehensible bullshit I spout to people on a day-to-day basis.
In an odd light the blog was revolutionary - nobody else really had the balls to use the internet for something like that in our school back in the day. Or at least, everybody else had the smarts to avoid social ridicule.
Unfortunately, some of this attention was negative. Being unable to take the teasing and joking, I deleted it. Six months later, made the same mistake again, probably what should have been for the last time. However, I submitted a nicely composed three page article for the yearbook, which due to space constraints got tidily edited down to one and was left as a nice reminder of the years that were. My resolve though was that I was probably never going to write anything on the internet again, whether it be horrendous lyrics on project rockstar, the blog or even anything larger than a private e-mail.
Now I'm a lot more mellow. Still prone to flying off the handle if I'm feeling bullied, but it takes a long while for things to get that stage. I still like a good rant sometimes, though I like them for comic value. So if I get abuse or being teased for my blog, I might still turn red faced in either embarrassment or rage and yell incoherent strings of swearwords at my agitator. Chances are though, I'll shrug and hope that the adsense is bringing me in enough loot to keep me in beer and smoke for the next half a week. If the certain "ginger haired devil" finds the site and points it out to everyone, I won't mind. Last time I spoke to him, I had a fair amount of respect for him. He was able to stand up for his faith, whilst admitting he wasn't the prime example of what a Christian should be (though I still stand entirely agnostic). If I had any problem with him in school it was perhaps in part to the failure to understand his social intelligence he had with certain people, or perhaps a jealousy in a feeling I couldn't compete with his wit. From our interaction, I like to think that the new found respect was mutual. If not, c'est la vie. Life is too short for letting things that bothered you as a teenager to go on affecting the rest of your duration on earth. Especially when you meet your old school friends about once or twice a year at the most.
And that brings me to the next point - why I'm doing this. Like I say, I have a plan and I've explained my desperate times. What I haven't explained is why blogging.
The thing is, I'm good at a few things. Anyone that knows me, will recall my previously mentioned lack of athletic ability, my occasionally embarrassing social presence and a distorted coordination. That being said, I can handle my long list of flaws on the grounds that I can walk away for a couple of pints after having the shit beaten out of me for about three minutes by three different spides. can get people to alike me, have the ability to pull good marks out of my proverbial I can even make a fucking awesome spaghetti bolognase (spelling?), but in the long run there isn't too much I can make a living out of. That's why I'm thinking, I might just write.
Maybe in the style of Bill Bryson, or even the man himself Hunter Shit-me-I'm-awesome Thompson, I might just achieve some kind of career out of it. Likelihood is I'll fail old-school. Be dead like F. Scott Fitzgerald due to drink and drug abuse in my fourtys yet without even haven written as something as influential as "The Great Gatsby". But this blog stands as a testing ground for how much money and success I might be capable of achieving.
I've added adsense in hope that somebody bored who has found the blog decides to click on one of the links. Now, I can't by the rules encourage you click on them. Posting requests to "CLICK MY ADDS" is retarded, so what I can do is occasionally offer product reviews amongst regular blog entries. Talk about Danish beer, or hydroponics kits once I know more about them. En temps en temps we'll see magical adverts appear which might catch the eye of a stray googler. In addition, you'll learn a little more about things that you might actually find useful. I might even post essays I've written just so history students can skaff a bit out of, or critique to decide whether Lancaster University is a good one to go to if you want a good degree.
Lastly, feel free to add comments. I'd quite like to know who the readership is.
I'm away to read up on how to make more money from blogs and possibly "skin up a cheeky one", because Madeline isn't here to do it for me.
Ciao Bella.
Conor
Well it appears I might be making this mistake for the third time. The difference is, this time I hope to have no regrets.
The problem was last time, not to do with the blog, but its content or rather, its writer.
Back when I was in sixth form, I was lacking severely in the social skills department. Hell, I didn't even kiss a girl until I was seventeen. Now, that my friends is slow development.
I'd like to think I've matured a little since then, but apart from having some (apparent) social skills, being somewhat less frustrated with the world (alright, it's been a while since I've got any but I'm trying to rely on luck, a ridiculously over-the-top Norn Irish accent and uhhh.. "good looks"), I'm still about as dozy and in my own little dream as I always was. This time though, I have a plan.
As the saying goes, desperate times call for desperate measures and well.. I'm counting on loans coming through for me and being in Copenhagen (the expensive but beautiful city that it is), am running out of money fast. If there's a problem with the loans (there always is whenever I fill forms in), I'm pretty screwed. Sure, I can probably yelp at the parents and demand stipends to keep me going, but I resent having to do that. As I showed in Christmas, I'll work 56 hour weeks just so I don't have to borrow any money from them to keep me going.
Now some people might wonder why I'm so fiercely committed to being financially independent from the old folks and so I'll explain why.
Whenever you're an only child, you can't do any wrong. Further more, with the adapting personality I have (despite never not being "myself", I've a different personality for every event and group of people I'm with.. being with me in a group is different to being one on one with me - call me "fake" if you want to, but I can't help it) I try and do my best for my parents when I'm at home, even act like the charming golden boy they believe I am. In reality, I'm chonging almost every day, drink way more than they believe I should (let me ask who doesn't in this day and age?) and partial to trying the odd "other" substance. If you really want, I'll recount some of my experiences someday in the very peculiar style of storytelling you're so used to reading from me.
To those of you who aren't used to reading my blog and are wondering what this is all about, I'll explain;
Back when I was 16-17 (lower sixth), I decided to write a blog - an internet diary if you will. Not only was this a dumb idea, but I decided telling a lot of people was a good idea.
Now, if I had been one of the "popular" kids at school, I might just have gotten away with it. However, having the athletic ability of a lame sea otter, I could barely swim, run or row. I was picked last for everything, with good reason. My competitive streak was based mostly on Magic the Gathering, or computer games. I'd always try and start talking about computer games right in the middle of somebody else's conversation - despite the fact they'd be discussing the pros and cons of 4-4-2 formation or the location of the G-spot, two things the "jocks" knew about and which I didn't have a clue, the former for lack of wanting to have a clue.
The other problem was that I could never take being made fun of. Which being as dozy as I am meant that I was going to have a lot of things being made fun of. Not least because I have an inherent belief I can be friends with everybody and try to at all times, which backfires more than it needs to. So, I'd get really angsty and you could see that in my blogs, I'd lash out at other people when often they were doing what any normal human being would do - have fun, occasionally at someone else's expense.
It was like reading the diary of a modern day Holden Caulfield (Catcher in the Rye) without the wit, charm and influence on serial killers that J.D. Salinger was able to write with. The blog was perhaps like Catcher, emo before emo was "cool". It didn't have as much fear of being buggered by old school teachers, but it was still written by somebody who felt they were different. Maybe I wasn't as big an outcast as I sometimes believe, I know I had a fair few friends, but my attempts at being class clown resulted more in being village idiot. Clueless was probably the best word you could have used to describe me.
Funnily enough though, the blog picked up attention by pretty much half of the school. It came to a point that print outs of the site were being littered around the actual buildings and every other computer in a computer suite had at least one IE window open with charlto.blogspot in the URL bar. This was partly on the basis that I said a lot about my classmates (the goings on of the entire year really) and partly on the account of my writing style, which arguably shows more intelligence than the near incomprehensible bullshit I spout to people on a day-to-day basis.
In an odd light the blog was revolutionary - nobody else really had the balls to use the internet for something like that in our school back in the day. Or at least, everybody else had the smarts to avoid social ridicule.
Unfortunately, some of this attention was negative. Being unable to take the teasing and joking, I deleted it. Six months later, made the same mistake again, probably what should have been for the last time. However, I submitted a nicely composed three page article for the yearbook, which due to space constraints got tidily edited down to one and was left as a nice reminder of the years that were. My resolve though was that I was probably never going to write anything on the internet again, whether it be horrendous lyrics on project rockstar, the blog or even anything larger than a private e-mail.
Now I'm a lot more mellow. Still prone to flying off the handle if I'm feeling bullied, but it takes a long while for things to get that stage. I still like a good rant sometimes, though I like them for comic value. So if I get abuse or being teased for my blog, I might still turn red faced in either embarrassment or rage and yell incoherent strings of swearwords at my agitator. Chances are though, I'll shrug and hope that the adsense is bringing me in enough loot to keep me in beer and smoke for the next half a week. If the certain "ginger haired devil" finds the site and points it out to everyone, I won't mind. Last time I spoke to him, I had a fair amount of respect for him. He was able to stand up for his faith, whilst admitting he wasn't the prime example of what a Christian should be (though I still stand entirely agnostic). If I had any problem with him in school it was perhaps in part to the failure to understand his social intelligence he had with certain people, or perhaps a jealousy in a feeling I couldn't compete with his wit. From our interaction, I like to think that the new found respect was mutual. If not, c'est la vie. Life is too short for letting things that bothered you as a teenager to go on affecting the rest of your duration on earth. Especially when you meet your old school friends about once or twice a year at the most.
And that brings me to the next point - why I'm doing this. Like I say, I have a plan and I've explained my desperate times. What I haven't explained is why blogging.
The thing is, I'm good at a few things. Anyone that knows me, will recall my previously mentioned lack of athletic ability, my occasionally embarrassing social presence and a distorted coordination. That being said, I can handle my long list of flaws on the grounds that I can walk away for a couple of pints after having the shit beaten out of me for about three minutes by three different spides. can get people to alike me, have the ability to pull good marks out of my proverbial I can even make a fucking awesome spaghetti bolognase (spelling?), but in the long run there isn't too much I can make a living out of. That's why I'm thinking, I might just write.
Maybe in the style of Bill Bryson, or even the man himself Hunter Shit-me-I'm-awesome Thompson, I might just achieve some kind of career out of it. Likelihood is I'll fail old-school. Be dead like F. Scott Fitzgerald due to drink and drug abuse in my fourtys yet without even haven written as something as influential as "The Great Gatsby". But this blog stands as a testing ground for how much money and success I might be capable of achieving.
I've added adsense in hope that somebody bored who has found the blog decides to click on one of the links. Now, I can't by the rules encourage you click on them. Posting requests to "CLICK MY ADDS" is retarded, so what I can do is occasionally offer product reviews amongst regular blog entries. Talk about Danish beer, or hydroponics kits once I know more about them. En temps en temps we'll see magical adverts appear which might catch the eye of a stray googler. In addition, you'll learn a little more about things that you might actually find useful. I might even post essays I've written just so history students can skaff a bit out of, or critique to decide whether Lancaster University is a good one to go to if you want a good degree.
Lastly, feel free to add comments. I'd quite like to know who the readership is.
I'm away to read up on how to make more money from blogs and possibly "skin up a cheeky one", because Madeline isn't here to do it for me.
Ciao Bella.
Conor