A different kettle of fish - Alex

Adolf Hitler, not a man I imagine many light hearted blogs begin with. However he knew how to do many things well. One of them is his undeniable ability to raise support and emotions. Now I am hoping to have a Hitler moment (one of the less tyrannical ones), Alexnpaddy is at risk. At risk of bucking a few month old trend. Since July our page views have grown month on month, but in order to continue this trend today we need 51 page views. 51, just so you know, would be the highest daily page views Alexnpaddy has received (as far as my simple little brain can remember). Upon posting this blog I will go into the dining room and do my physics homework and then attempt to bulk out my history coursework by a few hundred words. But then once my daily college work is done and dusted I will trot back to my laptop and attempt to publicise this humble web log. I'm aiming to find a few similar blogs and comment on them saying something along the lines of "Great work here! Really enjoyable blog. I do a similar blog over at www.alexnpaddy.blogspot.com". Just in case anyone reading this has been directed here from a comment similar to the above generic comment on their site I will only have said "great work" if I honestly think it is great work. Pointon ain't no liar.

Now for part two of the Alexnpaddy putsch. Hello reader. You read this blog. Hopefully you read this blog frequently because you enjoy how funny I am and how pityful Patrick is. I really enjoy writing a blog and knowing that it gets read by people I don't know, I find that interesting. Although what I find most fulfilling is knowing that the community who read my blogs like them enough to share them with their friends and enable this "little corner of the internet" to grow and thrive. That excites me. Of course I like knowing that some of my friends read regularly, they don't find me annoying enough in real life to put them of listening to me for even longer.

To neatly book end the show Hitler once said...

"All great movements are popular movements. They are the volcanic eruptions of human passions and emotions, stirred into activity by the ruthless Goddess of Distress or by the torch of the spoken word cast into the midst of the people."

You'll have to settle for written word instead of spoken, but lets make Alexnpaddy's page views demonstrate a perfect example of exponential growth. COME ON.

Pizza- Paddy

I'm gonna have me some PIZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZA. Or maybe, I'll just have a pizza. Either way, I've just put the oven on and in a little of 21 minutes I'll be snacking on a tasty margherita pizza, or cheese and tomato if you're common, and supping some form of chilled beverage. Why am I telling you all this? Because I have no-one else to tell.
That last paragraph ended on a bit of a down-er, so to brighten all our days, here is a picture of a gorilla playing what I can only presume is Donkey Kong on a Nintendo DS.

I imagine he is all about those flaming barrels being thrown at a small Italian Plumber.
Italian? That brings this short and pointless blog full circle back to Pizza! And on that note, I am going to go put mine in the oven.

Distraction - Alex

After spending 6 days, 2 hours and 29 minutes playing my Darlington game on Football Manager 2011 I am being reminded to "Remember, eating gives you the strength to keep on playing". Sure I love you game, probably more than I love Patrick. After three consecutive league titles (hence I am now in the Championship) my job status is "untouchable". However the biggest problem there is that I play Football Manager as an excuse to get away from doing something else. Right now I worry that it's my history coursework taking the slight hit. Of course I'd never let it get too serious, my education matters more than effectively everything else. But oh my how enticing it is to find out how Caggiano has trained in the last month or how Lee Cook and Evandro's assist tally compares to Brunt and Pennant's. I get distracted far too easily, you may even notice that in my blogs, fretting about on the tide of whim.

Now for my to knuckle down, and I'm probably distracting you from something, so get back to it!

Hugh Jackman/Ezio a comparison- Paddy

I am currently watching a film starring Hugh Jackman. Its is not any of the X-Men movies nor is it his latest potentially oscar winning effort Real Steel. The Hugh Jackman film I am watching is  Van Helsing. It is, in my opinion, an average film with one of my largest criticisms of it being Kate Beckinsale's slightly dubious eastern European accent. Also Hugh Jackman has stupid long girly hair and that detracts from his role as a bad-ass monster hunter. If I was a bad-ass monster hunter, I wouldn't have the hair of a 13 year old girl, I'd go for equally bad-ass hair like the hair on this man. Ok, I couldn't find any suitable hair for what I envisage would be suitable for a monster hunter. It would probably invlove lots of bits that stick up at different angles apparantly defiant of gravity. Anyhoo, I went off track, actually I never had a well formed track. I know who Hugh Jackman's Character should have been like! He should have had the charasmatic and playboyish coupled with the killer instinct and awesome look of Ezio from Assassin's Creed II. I choose AC2 over ACB or ACR (gamer type abreviations, get me) due to him being a free-er spirit and less serious and old in that one. I wish I was Ezio. I know an man who is weirldly like Ezio. He is  an Italian man skilled with a rapier, who even has the scar on his top lip like Ezio. Also he only wears white robes and has no ring finger on his hand to allow his hidden blade to work. Those last two points aren't true.
That'll do blog, that'll do. (Humorous mis-quote from Babe, the film/book about a pig, to finish.)

Family - Alex

In the past I have mentioned my younger sister to you, she informs me that she is 15 (I swear she's only 13). Right now she is sat next to me, molesting her pony tail. Now the salty wench is reading this post over my shoulder, and now the salty wench is questioning what a salty wench is. What a buffoon. My sister is called Emma and she is judging me for watching Bargain Hunt, you see the funny thing about Bargain Hunt is that you just can't plan what you're gonna see. Or so says the rather charming Tim Wonnacott. Back to family, since Saturday I have been staying at my fathers casa as my mother is on holiday in Malta. Since I have been at my Papa's I have spent a fair amount of time in the house for numerous reasons. First reason- a dench amount of work. I have to do history, biology, physics and maths. Something for every subject I do! It's not really felt like much of a break from college. Secondly, I don't have many friends. I didn't once put much effort into going out and as a result my week has been full of warm cosy days of college work and evenings spent uncomfortably sprawled out on my bed playing football manager.

P.s. As a matter of interest I have attatched a picture of my cut from being hit by a saucepan.

Ouchies.

A burger, bacon, sausage and egg roll with all the trimmings- Paddy

Today I shall blog! Yesterday, I went to football with my dad. We drove all the way to Wycombe, which isn't very far actually but it was a journey we made nonetheless. We made this journey as the two of us a Charlton Athletic fans and as I'm sure you deduced they were away to Wycombe. It is not the game about which I am to blog. It was a fairly bog-standard 2-1 to the mighty Charlton. It is the pre-match snack about which I am to blog. Traditionally before an English football game, one would consume some greasy meat and bread based food, burgers, hotdogs, pies and bacon rolls being key examples. Yesterday, we ordered two hotdogs from a fan, having queued for 20 MINUTES! Service from a burger van should not take 20 minutes, it should take about 2 minutes. I came up with a theory as to why service took so long. The two ladies behind the counter were offering a roll woth any combination of burger, bacon, sausage or egg for the paying customer. However, rather than having a selection of each cooking and ready to place in a roll, they could every combination to order. That may not seem an issue, but when each of the four burly men in the queue ahead of you each order a roll with all items plus onions and an array of sauces, it takes a long time for me to be able to order my humble hotdog.
I'm all done complaining about the time for my hotdog to arrive, I'll see you again on thursday.
Actually not thursday! I'll see you on friday.

With age comes ... - Alex

If you asked me yesterday morning I would have told you that any man with a beard is the joint best man in the world.
Ask me that now and I'll say that any man with a beard is the joint best man in the world, bar one.

Last night was the weekly football night and just in case you're reading this, goalkeeper of M.S.A you are a knob head, you are the one man in the world with a beard who isn't the joint best man in the world. Now I will elaborate to any reader who isn't well acquainted with the plight of Young Boys I will tell you what happened last night. From minuto uno (for the Latino reader) he decided that he was going to be awkward, actually not awkward, as close to cheating as he could get. And just to clarify, as close to cheating as you can get IS cheating. Now I will tell you what he did in ascending order of cheatosity. To start of with he had a three minute strop because someone entirely unassociated with our team threw a scrap of paper at him. He's supposed to be a mature adult, I'd estimate he was in his 50s. He spent most of the game making the most of any slight contact he was on the receiving end of. Like THIS. However he also spent a lot of the game falling over any time a limb from one of our players was pointed in his direction. Like a fatter and whiter Drogba. On two occasions William (a tenacious Young Boys player) had a shot and his shoe flew off. Now any sportsman would return the shoe. Instead our bearded foe threw the shoe into the adjacent court once and pushed William away from it the second time. That's just not on. And last but not least he decided to square up with dear little Patrick. I've talked about it, Patrick has the lowest muscle mass of anyone ever. Pat did nothing to warrant a violent response, but a violent response is what he got. Violence has no place in the real world (Call of Duty is fine), let alone directed at our little Patrick.

So to conclude, with age comes responsibility OR a beard and the most annoying footballing style ever. Buffoon.

Pointless- Paddy

Pointless is a British television quiz show. It is hosted by Alexander Armstrong and Richard Armitage. I like pointless because it rewards not only good general knowledge, but obscure general knowledge. The way it works is that many surveys have been done on various topics, for example rivers in Erurope. However, the contestant doesn't get many points for just saying an obvious answer, such as the Thames, but must answer with an answer no member of the survey gave. This concept pleases me, I enjoy obscure knowledge. This format allows me to discover further obscure knowledge, also I quite like Richard and his weirdly sarcastic humour. I recommend that any of you who are bored between 5.15pm and 6.00pm in the UK on weekday evening switch on BBC 1 and have a shufti.
Topic two for the evening. Football tonight is A BIG Game. The team we are playing are a solitary point above us in the league. This means that a win will put us above them and will catapult us into the top half of our division for the first time in the history of the Hufflepuff Young Boys/Youngs Boys. How momentous will that be? Very is the answer.
Now I shall leave you forever! Jokes lol it will only be until Wdnesday ;) < roguish wink.

Potter - Alex

Well well well. Yesterday Patrick informed you that we were attending a Mexican themed fiesta, and we did. All in all it's safe to say that I enjoyed myself. Although there was one hiccup. I was made to bleed from the forehead, and you'll never guess what made me bleed. Go on guess.

Wrong.

It was a saucepan! I got hit in the forehead by a saucepan. Don't ask me who did it though, I'm clueless. But I did have two get two particularly helpful females (bang tidy ones) to clean and then dress my wound. Upon waking up at 8:15 this morning I walked into my bathroom with the sole intention of having a quick shower and then I caught a glimpse of my reflection and I realised how silly I looked. I ripped of the plaster and then washed my smelly bits. Now I Have a little but deep scab on my head and I look a tiny little bit like Harry Potter. Fantastic.

Today I spent a large part of the day with my co-blogger. We watched the Kiwi and French egg chasers do their thing, neither of us are experts. I like to think I know slightly more than Patrick though. Then we watched last nights Match of the Day, caught up on all things great and good about the beautiful game. Then, the part I was most excited for, Manchester United against Manchester City. But that didn't go swimmingly. Far from in fact. It was awful. Probably two of the least enjoyable hours in my whole life ever. EVER.

Sad times. Final paragraph of the blog, today I did another 9 holes of golf at my local golf course. 25ish over par. Now for you frequent reader's you'll know that last time I was about 32 over par, so this is a noticeable improvement. WOOOOOHHHH!

Mekico- Paddy

Tonight, I am to sleep at my dear friend Alex's house. Why? Because at a late hour we both intend to be rascally drunk and his house is closer to the venue at which we shall be getting more than a little rambunctuous. Alex of course won't be drinking as he is not over 18 and for him to consume alcohol would be illegal. It would be even more illegal if the one of us that is over 18 (me) bought him beer to consume. Which is definately why none of that has happened. The theme for tonights fiesta is Mexico. This means I have purchased a sombrero to wear because we all know that's what mexicans wear. I was going to get a poncho too, but it was £19.99! Almost 20 quid! For a piece of cloth with a hole in it! I was outraged and thats why I am only making a half hearted attempt to be mexican. My overweight friend on the other hand is going all  out. He searched the interent and purchased a Luchador mask for only £10. He is intending to couple his mask with tights and a vest and go as an almost aunthentic mexican wrestler.
Right, I have to go now and order me some PIZZA! See y'all round.

Walking boots and stationary - Alex

Today Patrick went shopping and he bought me two things. Possibly two of the most exciting things you can get, alcohol and a sombrero. Tomorrow I am going shopping, what is on my shopping list? Walking boots and stationary. If I see them available at the right price I may even buy a sleeping bag and a fleece. Patrick was buying supplies for a Mexican themed party (not even a lie) where as I will be buying supplies for an African themed trek up Mount. Kilimanjaro.

On an entirely unrelated note my history coursework corrupted today. The word file that is. So now two and a half weeks worth of classwork have gone to nothing. That's about 630 minutes wasted. 37,800 lost seconds. So because of that I'm going to do work. I apologise unreservedly for the horribly short blog. I still love you. The few of you that still read.

Pink Batman- Paddy

At college tomorrow it is Pink Day. Pink Day is, as the name suggests a day for wearing Pink to college. The reason behind the wearing of Pink to college is to raise money and awareness for Breast Cancer research. As you might expect, many people at college get quite involved and wear many, many, many, many pieces of pink regalia. However, for many students, predominantly males, myself included, pink clothing is fairly hard to come by. This means my attempt to show much pink awareness will look half hearted and not entirely serious. This will make me look like I don't care about cancer, when in fact the opposite is true. Fortunately, actually, I can't think of a further point. I'll start a new topic.
I pre-ordered Batman: Arkham City, due for release here in the UK tomorrow. However, the company from which I ordered it has had "issues" in receiving their shipment of the game. This unfortunately means I shall have to wait until saturday to be able to get hold of my copy and that upsets me. I'll be upset to such an extent tomorrow that I will never smile at all, no matter how humourous a situation may occur at college. In fact, writing about not getting Batman has made me so sad that I shall stop blogging now! Good bye cruel Batman-less world.

Apparently concussed - Alex

I am a clutz. Yesterday morning I was energetically bounding about my house, leaping up and down the stairs with gay abandon. Game of Fifa here, episode of Never Mind the Buzzcocks there. Until at roughly 10:00 AM. At 10:00 AM it all went tits up, I fell up the stairs. But not just a normal fall up the stairs. It wasn't a half hearted stumble, it wasn't even a standard slip. I was flying up the stairs, full throttle, and at the top I went to turn right. But, as I mentioned, I am a clutz. I caught my right foot and fell, all ten stone of me, head (or shoulder) into the wall. I did manage to put a bit of a crack/dent in the wall. Flimsy plasterboard. I shall now upload a photo of the crack so that you can visualise the force with which I clattered into the wall.

About an hour after the incident my vision went a little fuzzy, seeing stars and all of that malarkey. I then felt slightly nauseous. After lunch both of them thinks teamed up with a splitting head ache convinced me that it was time to go home and go to bed. Missing a physics lesson was an unfortunate side effect of that. After speaking to my Dad (a man not trained in medicine, in fact he works in IT) he reckons I have really mild concussion. I just like to think of it as life's way of evening things out. Win a game of football, next day you hurt your head. Bugger that.

Winning!- Paddy

Most of you by now probably know that mine and alex's football team aren't very good. We may have mentioned it once or twice such as here, here and here. I'm sure there are more than that, I just couldn't find them to post here. Anyway, back to the point, our football team is quite bad. We used to be called the Hufflepuff Young Boys and we lost alot last season. This year, we decided to drop the Hufflepuff because it sounded gay (not that being gay is a bad thing) and simply called ourselves the entirely heterosexual sounding Young Boys. We we still quite a bad team though thus far this season. However, last night we were not awful! We won a game by 3 goals to 0 goals for the other team. If I'm correct in remembering, this is our first ever cleansheet. This was for us a momentous acheivement and boosted us up to a mighty 5th in the league! Admittedly there are only 8 teams in our division so we are still in the bottom half, but thats not the point and I forbid you to mention it. That's right reader, I forbid you! Such power I have over you! YOU the reader must bow to the whim of ME the writer. Or actually, you don't. You could just stop reading, afterall I don't actually have any power over you at all. This means I shall now stop blogging and let you go on your way and do whatever you want. By all means read this again.

Goofy giggles - Alex

The following blog contains links, if you do not follow the links you will miss out.

Everyone has one friend with a ridiculous laugh. A laugh so abnormal that it can draw the attention and judgemental stares of a room. A laugh so peculiar that it can often be funnier than whatever made the laugh happen in the first place. Sometimes they happen like THIS, other times they can happen like THIS. If you're really unfortunate it could pop up like THIS. Off of the top of my head I can think of two of my friends who fall into the "goofy giggle" category. One male and one female. One has tiny eyes and one had perfectly normal size eyes. The least goofy of my two friends' laughs is from the female; her chuckle comes in many forms. Some slightly resemble a seal, others are all high pitched and strange like you've sped up slightly strange laugh. My male friend (friend is pushing it) has a laugh so ridiculous that sometimes I'm ashamed to be near him. I get more than most of it because I'm alarmingly hilarious. He sounds like a hyena gingerly tip-toeing across hot coals. He sounds like a squeaky toy underneath a stampede. He sounds like an advert for the guild of goofy laughter. Some top class work there, three pieces of fantastic descriptive work. In fact I'm going to sit back and let them sink in. Sit back so far that this blog ends and I go to do my maths homework. That far back.

P.s. POW

FIFA 12 Apologies- Paddy

You may or may not be aware of the FIFA 12 apology rules. They are a list of rules devised by gamers for the eventuality that you are heavily beaten by your friend in a game. According to the Facebook the official rules are as follows:
5 - Write a letter to your opponent praising them for their brilliance.

6 - You must act as though your opponent is God the next time you see him.

7 - You must make your opponent a certificate explaining how he beat you by seven goals and played so well.

8 - You must be the slave of your opponent for an hour.

9 - You write a letter to your family explaining how you have let them down and are an embarrassment to the family.

10 - You must send a Moonpig apology to your opponent explaining why it happened and how it'll never happen again.

11 - You write a letter to the queen explaining why your opponent deserves a knighthood.

12 - You must play the next game fully naked in the living room.

13 - You have to go to your next door neighbours and start describing the game in its full detail, minute, by minute and where fundamentally you went wrong, if they shut the door move on to the next house and pick up where you left off.

14 - The person must wear a custom t-shirt, designed by the winner, it must have on the back, " I lost by 14 on Fifa 12 " on the front, it can have what ever the winner desires. The loser must then walk around town explaining to 14 different people why they have lost so badly and get them to sign the t-shirt. A picture must then be uploaded to facebook with the T-shirt on for further abuse.

15 - You must send a letter to EA explaining in great detail why you lost by 15 goals and how they should make a special version of Fifa for people like you.

20 - You are not allowed to play FIFA 12, ever, ever, EVER again.

I'm sure you can see where this is going. Its clear that one of us had to do one of these forfeits and you probably think that because I'm writing that its Alex. Unfortunately I lost 7-2 to Alex earlier so had to write him a facebook based apology. It went like this:
Dear Alex
I would like to apologise to you for letting you beat me 7-2 on EA sports' FIFA 12. I am sorry that my woefully inept LA Galaxy squad were unable to challenge your prowess with the mighty New York Red Bulls. I am especially sorry for letting your striker, Rodgers, score 4 open goals. Please forgive me for these events and I hope that you will let me face you again.
Sincerely, your vanquished opponent,
Patrick

That's all from me today, I can't handle any further humiliation.

Good things that are actually bad - Alex

On a Friday I am timetabled to finish my college day at 10:30 in the morning. Yesterday was no different. Come quarter to eleven I was at home, on the sofa, thinking about how to spend the coming hours. The very first thing I did was eat a gingerbread and have a cup of coffee whilst watching a show called "Fresh meat", seeing as a close to infinite amount of people have recommended the show to me I was under whelmed. Then I decided to eat my lunch, which at 11:30 may have been considered a little premature, still filled me up nicely. I then decided that it was time to get my pile of homework done, like the good student I am. Maths and physics were vanquished after just over an hour, although this is where the blog title comes into play. I ended up listening to The Corrs, now don't get me wrong, The Corrs are well sick. But the only problem is they aren't quite the type of "well sick" that is socially acceptable for me to listen to. Oh well, I guess it's only one way I'm turning middle-aged. BUT IT IS NOT. I did a round of golf. Well half of a round of golf. 9 holes at the local golf course and two hours later I can honestly say that I am a better man for it. How did I do? Well the par was 35 for the 9 holes, I got 32! 32 over par. Yeah it's not very good but don't hate me for it. I can promise you that some of my shots were actually good for an enthusiastic amateur. It just so happened that some (many) of my shots also terrible. The majority of my shots were terrible. So I took 77 shots, I'd estimate that I took 2 great shots, 10 good shots, 15 ok shots and then 30 bad shots and then 20 god awful shots. The problem with aforementioned "god awful shots" is that they tended to be directly after a bad shot and therefore out of a very tough lie. I am attempting to justify my dire performance. From a very tough lie it is very easy to mis-hit the ball and get yourself in an equally as poor lie. So whilst I was nearly half as good as average I got unlucky. With a bit of practise and the right alignment of the planets I could get 15 over par. Maybe even 20. One day you might find out how I do on my second round, if there's a second round.

Now I'm off to watch Manchester United hopefully DDEEEEEEESTROY Liverpool.

Fat People- Paddy

I did not know about what to write this blog. I turned to a friend and reader of the blog to suggest a topic she'd like me to engage and she suggested "Whale Discrimination". This suggestion I rejected, stating that she was a "fool" for even thinking it. This prompted her to suggest obese children as a more suitable topic for the blogging. Here we go then.Fat people annoy me, fat children less so than fat adults. Also really fat people more so than ordinarily fat people. Really fat adults is where my issue lies, so I'm going to deviate from the suggestion and blog about them instead. I am aware that this is a controversial topic, and if our blog was popular people would be in uproar in the comments, saying the fatness could be "glandular" or "genetic" and that I was prejudiced for my fairly sweeping statements regarding the overweight 46% of males and 32% of females in the UK (I got those stats here, because I'm professional and source my work.) I realise that I haven't yet said why I dislike the larger people. I shall explore that in paragraph 3.
I dislike fat people because they are unpleasant to look at. Some of them look like Jabba The Hutt has grown legs and moved form Tatooine to Earth because the climate is nicer. Secondly, they walk slowly and I'm a guy in urgent need of getting places. Ok, I'm not that urgent a guy but sometimes I like to power walk.
This is getting far to rant-y a blog now. Therefore I shall stop at the end of this sentence, Good Night (or Good Morning/Afternoon if you read it tomorrow.)

I hate my life - Alex

I hate my life. Actual full bodied hate. Every evening my life has become hell. I go to bed unhappy and frowning and it's all because of some bastard called David Rutter. Well he has helped to produce a game that HATES me. Very quickly I'm beginning to hate it back. Fifa 12 I am on about, it has lost all gloss it ever had. Most nights I end up playing a few games of Fifa with Patrick and most evening I end up losing a few games of Fifa to Patrick. It's not that I'm a sore loser, in fact if my recent months and years have taught me anything it's that I should expect to be rubbish because then very occasionally I'll be pleasantly surprised, it's that I hate being cheated by a system. I hate that the game singles me out and leads me to punch my desk and wall. Yes, I take the games very seriously, life or death.

I hate my life. I hate that you'll be reading this and will be becoming progressively more bored. I hate that I've forgotten how to smile. I hate that the more and more I type "I hate" the bleaker my life seems to be. I don't think I could be any more unhappy right now. I guess the only piece of positive news is that Bruce Forsythe has been knighted. Woo.






PS. I feel like Jack Dee being so grumpy, except people like Jack Dee.

Regrets- Paddy

Upon turning 18 year of age in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, there are several things you can do. A select list of items includes: buying alcohol, buying tobacco related products, buying sharp or dangerous things like knives, vote, enter shops and clubs of an adult nature, and get a slammin' tat (that's slang for tattoo). It is the last of these about which I shall delve into further. Today a friend of mine, wait no, an acquaintance of mine turned 18 and got a tattoo. Nothing wrong with that, however, I believe, along with many of my other friends, that said acquaintance will regret permantly dying the dermis layer of his skin. ( The dermis is just below the outer layer of skin. Learning is fun with Alex 'n' Paddy). We believe he will regret it because on his leg he now has this:

Now, as avid an Aldershot Town Football Club fan as he is, I still think that the nature, size, colouration and position of his tattoo will lead to many regrets in his future. Thats all I'm saying.
I was about to find an even more regrettable tattoo on another acquaintance. I don't seem to be able to locate it though. Unfortunate for me is that.
Right I'm going to go now, I will be bakc again soon! Most liekely (by which I mean definitely) on Friday.

Equality - Alex

Recently been the subject of some blog based bullying. I did an elaborate blog about how I was really ill and then BAM "man up alex :L". Inconsiderate. Patrick does a blog about how something womanly like pressure is affecting him and he gets a "You'll do fine! you're so smart it seems. GOOD LUCK :)xx ". I have no problem with people caring for Patrick, heck I think I might care for him myself. But what gets me is how I'm put down for being un-manly (that might not even be politically correct, bad reader). Whilst Patrick is being supported for making claims that are less "material" than mine. Illness is a real thing, quantifiable. Pressure, well pressure is something that scrawny teenage boys who look slightly Arabic and whose names rhymes with Schmatrick to moan about. I also just noticed that Paddy's blog yesterday got a "i'm surprised you don't get more comments, your blogs make me giggle everyday!xx", here comes some Colombo stuff. Both of the comments Patrick has received have ended with two kisses and from that I infer that they are the same person. I would like to ask you (my money is on Patrick's sister (who is fit)) why do you boost Patrick's ego and leave me to ponder my inadequacy?

Last night, as we do every Monday night, me and Paddy (named after the fields) had five-a-side football. We were awful, me more than most, we lost 5-1 and I can honestly say that if you have a picture dictionary you need to update it and put a picture of us from last night in below the words awful, appalling, disgraceful and any other synonym of them words. It upset me very much and it made my chest hurt like crazy. Darn illness, at some points my voice even went squeaky, like a boy who is just starting puberty, so lets say Patrick.

Comments?!?!- Paddy

Too blog or not to blog is not really a choice I have. Obviously I have to blog, its my day to do one, that is how this joint blogging malarkey works. But you all know that by now, and if you didn't know that I'm sure you had a fairly strong inkling that every other day was how this goes down.
Anyway, I just saw that both mine and alex's latest posts have been commented upon! I'm not sure who has written them, if they were just our friends or if they are from genuine fans. Either way I would like to thank the writers of those comments and also urge the rest of you to jump on the (currently very small) commenting bandwagon. I don't mind what you comment, as long as it isn't mean to me, because I'm not sure I could take it. Also any reference to Justin Beiber, Hitler or use of the word "fag" will result in the commenter being shot through the head with a kiwi (bird not fruit), probably leading to their death. the exception to this is if any of the above terms are relevant to the content of the blog.
Enough about commenting! I shall now move on to a different point. When Alex and I started this blog, we originally intended to do video-blogs, or vlogs as they are known. However, we thought we would not be popular enough to warrant the purchase of the nessecary equipment. But, if you spread the word, and get our monthly pages views up and up by telling your friends and forcing them to read our blog, then we may yet dip into the cut-throat blogging world! Don't you want to see us talking in actual moving pictures rather than just readng? I know you do! Well, I hope you do.
Thats me done now. I'll see you around but not really, unless you spread the word.
PS, we will be willing to do TV interviews to raise our popularity, if you pay all expenses.

Not man flu - Alex

I'm ill. My nose is running like a combination of Usain Bolt and Paula Radcliffe, for a long time and very fast. My throat feels like I've been gargling razor blades, really sharp ones. My head feels like big ol' Shaq went for a slam dunk and then landed on my temple. My glands are swollen to roughly the size of a seal. Each. My mouth is drier than Antartica because I have to keep it open, otherwise I suffocate. Yesterday I actually went to the effort of selotaping a piece of tissue over my nose and top lip so that I didn't have to go through an infinite amount of toilet paper just the quell the streams of nasal mucus.

A horrible image which I apologise for planting deep inside your brain. What I'm trying to do is get loads of sympathy from you and make you feel sorry for me. I'm kidding, I'm typically British with the stiff upper lip and such. If any of you even contemplate pitying me I will hunt you down and sneeze into your eyes and face, you will catch the plague from me. You don't want the plague, you don't need me to tell you that though.

Back to bed for me, maybe if I'm feeling particularly active later I'll turn on my telly or the Xbox. Or maybe I'll just feel sorry for myself, like the pathetic mess I am.

PRESSURE- Paddy

Now is apparently a fairly important time in my life. According to the people who educate me at college, that is anyway. To them, the entirety of the next 12 months revolves around, in one form or another, my university applications for the academic year 2012. My teachers are constantly reminding me that my exams are only 3 months away, and I have coursework due next month, and I have to do a personal statement,and I have to do something else regarding this but can't recall it right now. I'm sure it'll come to me. I remember it! I have resits to book for exams that I already did. Not because I failed them, just to clarify, just because I perhaps didn't do as well as I should have in them.However, the issue with all this is that I would rather play FIFA. It is the bane of my life, the desire for me to play FIFA, but never fear anyone from universities who stumbles across this! I am well on my way to doing all of the above listed things, except for booking resits which I haven't done yet because I can't figure out how to. So don't be put off Mr/Mrs/Dr/Ms/Prof/Sir admissions tutor from the universities I have applied at, I am an organised and hard working individual. I just have my own special way of doing it.
I'm going to sign off now and finish. I was going to write my name in a font that looked like I'd signed my name by hand, but couldn't find one. Thats upsetting.

Characterful - Alex

Character comedy is a method/genre used by some comedians. In character comedy the comedian performs as though he was a character created by him/her. A good deal of comedians have enjoyed fame from character comedy.

Alan Partridge is properly back on the scene. Alan Partridge is a character created by Steve Coogan. I'm always someone who chooses his words very carefully, but I fully believe that I am correct when I say that that THIS is actually too funny. Another big advocate for character comedy is Leigh Francis. Who?! Avid Merrion or more recently and possibly more recognisably as Keith Lemon, the Yorkshire based failed business man. Whilst securipole was the making of him it has been his crude yet strangely endearing sense of humour that has helped him to meteorically rise to the top of late.

I'm thinking that with so much character comedy around I should create a character in order to get to the top of British media and meet Georgie Thompson. None of the afformentioned charchters have a normal every day voice (nor do Borat or Ali G) so I'm going to have to be from somewhere that isn't 40 minutes away from London. Also I don't want any of the racism malarky associated with Borat. Wales. I am Welsh. Now I can't be too cliche Welsh. I'm from one of the trendier suburbs of Swansea. Now I need a goal in life, I'm a fame craving glamour model wannabe. I'll have to watch plenty of Zoolander and lots of Gavin and Stacey and then hopefully this character will come to life. One last thing, I need a name. Something consummately Welsh yet unique. Trevor Cadfael. Well with any luck I'll have a book and a telly show by this time next year. Either that or I forget about Trevor and never mention him again. We'll see.

Kushans- Paddy

Hello readers on the internet! I'm back from nowhere in particular, it doesnt even deserve the exclaimation that I am back as I wasn't away any longer than you had anticipated. That said, I am here and ready to blog for the first time on my new Laptop. I know 99.999% of you already have laptops, most of you are probably reading this on one, and I'm sure that of that 99.99% 99.98% have had them more than a week. So for you this laptop hype I'm on may seem a tad mundane or pointless, but to me this full sized keyboard is a work of beauty! No longer shall I be typing my blogs out with only my thumb, having autocorrect change my slightly misspelled words from what I was aiming for to somethings else. One time I tried to write "Muahaha" but got one letter wrong and the people who write ipod dictionaries decided I was aiming for "Kushans". I don't even know what that means, I'll google it for you now...According to Google Kushans is defined as:

noun /ˈko͞oˌSHän/
Kushan, plural; Kushans, plural

A member of an Iranian dynasty that invaded the Indian subcontinent and established a powerful empire in the northwest between the 1st and 3rd centuries ad

That is not at all what I was aiming for in y initial context. Fortunately that situation will never arrise again, unless I blog on my iPod again once in a while.

Paddy's first Laptop based blog is done now, see ya on Saturday!

Size really does matter - Alex

It is only now that you will begin to really understand Patrick. I now expect him to do the vast majority of his blogs from his newly acquired laptop. I am going to assume that Patrick will still dedicate the same amount of time to writing his blogs, only now he has a full size qwerty keyboard instead of a 3" touch screen made to display a tiny keypad he can hammer out much longer, much more interesting and much more satisfying blogs in the same amount of time. If you guys are as excited as I am then you're...

 not actually that excited.

ANTI-CLIMAX! The real reason that I entitles this blog "Size really does matter" is because in physics we are supposed to produce a set of revision notes at the end of every chapter; one of the 5 criteria we are marked on is size (length). Size actually matters. Take that everyone ever trying to make a teenage boy (or an insecure adult for that matter) feel better. In the way you mean it size doesn't matter greatly but size does matter when it comes to writing revision notes for the physics department at Farnborough Sixth Form College.

I can smell chilli con carne so I must dash, sorry for the short and disappointing blog, but now Pat has his laptop you'll get even less of them.

Laptops and Pro-clubs- Paddy

Today, I bought myself a laptop because I did not previously own a laptop, and thought that I should buy one. Thus I took my father and his credit card down to the local electronics retailer and made him splash out £329 on a laptop (a £329 I must repay him). The chosen laptop was a Pacard Bell TSsomething something something, I can't remember the exact model. It had 4GB of something and 320GB of something else and it has a battery life of 4.5 hours. It's also red! I'm sure you can tell, computers aren't my thing.
My thing is FIFA, and today Alex's copy finally arrived and we played and he beat me alot. We then formed a new Pro-Club! We are now the 800815 not the 8008135 because Alex can't spell. During out games we came up against two puntastically named teams, "Inter Minan" and "Bayer Neverlusen" if you are football geeks like Alex and I they are hilarious, for normal people probably not so funny. We have redesigned our players too, I am now Tome Tinga, tonga's finest centre back, Alex is a tricky Uganda called Terrence Something (his surname isn't something, I can't remember it though) and lastly our Mexican friend is the classy striker Vincent Swagger.
This is my blog done now, I'll talk to you in 2 days...From my new laptop!

Pretty sick weekend - Alex

When I write a title I like to have it related to the topic discussed within the bulk of the main blog, but without giving it away too much. So straight off you go "What?" but then once you have read the full blog you go "Oh now it all makes sense". Today I have not done that, not by any stretch of the imagination. You know what I'm going to talk about, but simply because you are so bewitched by my story telling you will read the blog regardless.

My weekend started on Thursday night and on that night I attended a "gathering". I enjoyed it very much, I consumed some alcohol, but not enough to make be sick in the toilet. Or anywhere for that matter. Walking home from this event technically took place on Friday but because I'm not a pedantic little sausage I will still include it in the Thursday paragraph. Walking home was fun, because it was so deserted we even walked across a round about. Rule benders. Once I had split from the main group and was going home by myself I got flashed by a girl getting out of a taxi. Before you ask, they were alright, nothing special.

Friday was a lazy day, a day to catch up on the rest I missed the previous night. I woke up fairly early (about 6) and went for a jog. Then when I got back in I went to bed again and had what I call a lie in, until 9. I then got out of bed excited because my FIFA 12 could have been delivered, as I got to the top of the stairs I could see that the post man had already been. Oh god, FIFA 12. I'd been waiting for it since March. Bound down the stairs. Leap the bottom 5 steps. No FIFA 12, just a local newspaper and some boring bills for my Mum. I was let down, upset even. I went straight into the living room and watched 150 minutes of comedy including shows such as "Would I Lie to You", "Outnumbered" and "Mock the Week". Certainly a triumph for the BBC. Then I saw my friend with a massive chin for a small period of time (I'm allowed to call her that, she's a bloody rubbish friend and doesn't read my blogs. If she does read this then she can tell me off). Once she'd cleared off I got my head down and did some boring college work until tea time. My friend with a large bottom for a white girl then came over to my house and me, her and my little sister then spent time just generally fooling about. At one stage I even stuck a vacuum cleaner to my face, although the joke was on me because little Henry sucked so hard that he gave me a bruise on my face. It looked like I'd been in a bloomin' fight!

Saturday! On Saturday I spent the morning larking about waiting for the post man and my copy of FIFA 12. For the second day running the post man didn't keep me waiting, he was at mine by 9.30. Just without FIFA 12. It's not his fault, I blame Amazon. I pre-ordered it in Spring, you'd have thought they had plenty of warning. I ended up having a little kick about in the sunshhiiiiinnnnneeee, glorious glorious sunshine. Upon returning home we had a barbie in the back garden and after lots of beautifully cooked meat we watched television for the evening. Love television. Love FIFA more.

Finally what did I do yesterday?! Finished of my college work in the morning, watched a bit of James Bond too. Brosnan Bond, not Craig or Connery Bond. But the main event of the day was going go karting. Me, my sister and my Daddy went go karting as a belated birthday treat for the old fart. In total we spent 30 minutes on the track and I did an average speed of 39.8km/h, I came fourth out of eight. Average. Just the way I like it. When we finally got home I had a quick skype with the previously mentioned large bottomed white girl and then downstairs to watch X Factor. Don't judge me.

For today hopefully my FIFA 12 finally comes and also mine and Patrick's 5-a-side season finally starts, hopefully we can only improve on last year. I think this must be the longest blog ever done on Alex'n'Paddy, and I didn't even talk about the new look! I'll save that for another day. Terra, I hope your eyes aren't exhausted after that.

Doctor Who- Paddy

As you may have noticed, the notorious Daniel Cook has had another crack at redesigning our blog. Prompted by my complaints about the homoerotic nature of his previous attempt, he has created us this red number instead. I'm sure you spotted the Parental Advisory Label at the top, but do not fear! The only danger on this blog is of mild silly-ness and immaturity. But only from Alex of course, I am now 18 and therefore am no longer silly and am maturer than a piece of gorgonzola from 1765. Who am I kidding? Not you obviously, I'm just as youthful as ever. Today, for example, I watched the series finale of the latest run of Doctor Who, starring Matt Smith as the eleventh incarnation of the eponymous hero. I'm not saying Doctor Who is only for children, indeed the average 10 year old would have found some of the latest plots absolutely impossible to follow (not that I'm saying 10 year olds are stupid), but it is predominantly targeted at a younger audience. However, that doesn't stop me and many other equally mature adults wishing we were 900 year old aliens with a time machine and the ability to occasionally look like David Tennant.
Incidentally, dan cook has a weirdly striking resemblance to the current doctor. And that brings this blog full circle and I thank you for reading it.

An actual adult - Alex

Saturday the 1st of October, today is a day of significance for the oldest blogger in the Alex'n'Paddy partnership. Little Pat has just turned 18, you know what that means? He can now buy beer, axes and cigarettes. Although I think we both know what he'll be doing today: his first day as a man. The smart money would be on him spending most of today playing FIFA 12, we all know that FIFA 12 is going to be engrossing me and P bomb for the next 12 months. I did a quick piece of guess work and I reckon that I've spent at least 240 hours in game on FIFA 11. Technically i think that makes me a massive addict, a FIFA addict. I also believe that he's going out for a cosy little meal with his family, I'm not invited. I'm not technically family but I've seen his winkle and as far as I'm concerned that makes us brothers of sort. As I type this out I'm looking at the present I got Pat, a North Korea soccer jersey. I also have a mini figurine of Robbie Fowler and a coin with Emile Heskey on. I hope he really likes it because I put lots of thought into it and tried really hard to get him something that would make him chuckle in the short term but appreciate me even more in the long term. After all Patrick and me are like this and all I really love the little so and so. I just want him happy.
Too much emotion. Happy birthday Patrick, you squirmy little sausage.