2011: The end is nigh- Paddy

Its new years eve, and if I'm honest, I don't really care that much. To me it is the 4th least worthwhile holiday, behind Valentine's Day (because I'm single), Thanksgiving (because I'm not American), Fireworks Night (because I don't like the bangs) and Pancake Day (because pancakes are underwhelming). I know that was 5 holidays but I forgot about Pancake day to start with. Anyway, the reason I don't value New Year's is because it doesn't actually commemorate anything special. The other holidays I listed have backgrounds and traditions that they celebrated for, New Year's is for no reason in particular, there is nothing exceptional about the transition from one day to another. It happens everyday and I don't understand why this one transition is celebrated simply for happening once every year. Don't get me wrong, I'm still going to go to a mates house tonight and get drunken, but that's just because I don't want to stay at home whilst all my friends (read as people who tolerate me) party without me.
Also a secondary reason I've just thought of as to why I'm not a big fan of the New Year's is the social networking aspect. I am definately not a fan of the status and tweets along the lines of ""lets hope 2012 can be good for me! Good bye 2011" or "Thank god 2011 is over #worstyearever". I just made those examples p, but I'm sure you'll all see the sort of thing I mean tomorrow.
Final point of the year from Alex'n'Paddy, thank you for reading our little blog .As a reward for your suport for this year here is a picture of Alex with icing on his teeth:


 Please continue reading it and also tell your friends. Lets make 2012 the best year ever! It can't be worse than 2011 #worstyearever (see what I did there? Its like one of those stupid statuses.)

14% and counting - Alex

My phone currently has 14% battery charge remaining, and I aim to finish this blog before Apple and their under performing batteries get the better of my blog and your favourite website. 13%! I shall refer back to the point I made about this being your favourite website, obviously it isn't quite as useful as websites like BBC news or YouTube but for the small amount of time you spend on the toilet/bus/naughty step Alexnpaddy fills the hole perfectly. 12%! Soon, it cannot have escaped your attention, a new year is set to begin. How does this tie in with the FACT that Alexnpaddy is my favourite site? 11%! Well you surely know the phrase (or something similar to) "New year, new me". Well on Patrick's behalf I promise that during 2012 Paddy will change his ways and entertain you*. 10%! Over the next calendar year he will write a novel, compose a song, make an amateur movie and pose for a naked photo shoot. 9%! All of these activities will be recorded, analysed and joked about on Alexnpaddy. So hold on tight for an even better year!!!! 8%!

*I'm sure he currently entertains you stupid amounts, he'll just entertain you even more.

Stronghold- Paddy

Alright chaps. How's it goin'? Good to hear.
I got a new game for Christmas. It was a video game. You might assume it was a modern new-fangled game like Skyrim or MW3 or Assassin's Creed: Revelations (well actually I did get Revelations but that is not what I'm a-blogging about), but in actual fact, the game I have played most since Christmas is Stronghold: Crusader. It is an unbelievable game and I what strongly recommend it to anyone who has some form of computer with a disc-drive to play it on. For those of you who have not played it, Stronghold: Crusader is a historic real-time strategy (RTS) game set in the Middle East during the Crusades (oh how I love Wikipedia).
Anyway, the thing I love about Stonghold is the building of magnificent castles. Castles with walls ten squares deep and towers with ballistae mounted upon them. Also I like to fight lions. Yeah you can fight lions! Lion-Fighting rocks! Admittedly fighting lions isn't a major part of the game and is instead just something I like to do.
I'm going to stop writing this blog now, and go and fight some Lions and probably some Arabs too, while I try and colonise the Holy Land.

Silky smooth on the nip + hair update - Alex

I wear clothes pretty much everyday, but that's standard practise where I come from (unlike Essex). Because I wear clothes with startling frequency some people even decided to buy me some for Christmas. Nothing even slightly shocking there. I got given 3 t-shirts, 1 polo shirt, 1 shirty shirt and then get this! SOMEONE GOT ME A CARDIGAN. I have nothing against cardigans, Patrick looks suave in one from time to time. I actually said I liked the particular cardigan I was eventually gifted with and then my Mum got me it for Christmas. The thought behind the title for this blog is the way 2 of my t-shirts feel. Don't misinterpret me, the third t-shirt is still lovely. Just these 2 t-shirts are so smooth and soft on my nipples and other parts of my upper body anatomy. They are both "topman" t-shirts, and the tags that were attached to them at time of opening said that you could purchase any two of these t-shirts for £12. I'm certain you found that interesting.

IN MY HAIR NEWS! Here are three pictures of my hair progressing since shaving, it's been 97 days! Although now it's in the awkward messy stage where it's not a jewfro but it's not easy to tame.

The Christmas Cup. - Paddy

Ten days ago I wrote this post about a game of football happening ten days from then. I have just finished that game of football and am about to tell you just a few key moments in it.
1) We kicked off.
2) We went 1-0 down.
3) I came on as a substitute.
4) We equalised.
5) We had half-time and I ate some gammon.
6) We kicked off again.
7) We went 2-1 up.
8) I had a shot saved.
9) I got injured and was substituted
10) We went 3-1 up.
11) The final whistle went.

For those of you who are concerned, my injury was not serious, just a spot of cramp in my right calf that prevented me running. Running is a key part of football, especially for a winger (which is where I was playing) and therefore a replacement had to be made.
I am going to go now, and eat turkey left-over soup, probably the best soup... in the world.

When I grow up, I want to be an astronaut - Alex

It's rare that I consider anything vaguely "artistic" to be touching or moving. I'm not a culturephobe, merely an individual who doesn't appreciate, for example, the emotional intentions behind a painting. Despite this for Christmas I asked for and received an illustrated book of poetry, and I can throughout recommend it. Here's a link to it. Even Patrick likes Scroobius Pip!* One poem particularly appealed to me as the subject matter is something I have genuine feelings on. An extract from the poem is here...

When I grow up, I just want to roll
From one experience to the next without having a goal
When I grow up, I want to evolve
Into a person not defined just by their job or their role
When I grow up, I just want to roll
From one experience to the next without having a goal
When I grow up, I want to evolve
Into a person not defined just by their job or their role

Here are the full lyrics (I say lyrics because Scroobius Pip recorded it with YILA).

I like this specific poem/song because I fear that I am the exact opposite of the type of person Pip is talking about. This poem made me think about it and I realised that the vast majority of targets and goals I set myself are based around a successful career. I always pictures myself wearing a nice suit and a flash watch whilst sitting in a swanky office. Driving a luxury car back to my modern pent house in which I have a valuable collection of whisky and aftershave. Pip says that "We are encouraged to pick a job in which we seek success, instead of thinking about what we really need for happiness", and in an interview he elaborated to add...

"I feel that at school we are often given goals that have very little to do with actually being happy. I know some people that are very successful in business but are not so happy in their lives. There are others that are still working in retail but are totally happy and cheery.
There are people who think that if they achieve the goals and targets set for them in school, then they will automatically be happy. But that’s not always the case. There’s not a step by step guide of how to be happy.

So really I should just picture myself with a smile on my face and a spring in my step as opposed to being "successful". Because, obviously, what's the use of money if you've got no time to use it?

*The start of his song Introdiction, anyway.

It's Christmas- Paddy

MERRY CHRISTMAS READERS!

Christmas eve - Alex

Well look at the date guys and girls. It's less than 24 hours until we get to open our presents, eat too much food and go to bed late. Oh the excitement. As I've got older the draws of Christmas have changed. Obviously as a small child I was all about the presents and the time off from school. Nowadays I savour the opportunity to spend plenty of time with my friends and eat enough food to feed a small army more than anything. Whilst Michael Buble sings that "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas" I actually think that Christmas sort of sneaks up on you. Like a ninja. Christmas is the ninja holiday. One minute you think "It's a week until Christmas, soon I'll feel festive" but here I find myself, the day before Christmas, and I feel about as festive as this guy....

SCROOGE DUCK

I'm sure come tomorrow I'll be reppin the Christmas ting though. Colourful paper crowns, carefully discarding wrapping paper and an evening on the Xbox HERE I COME!

Mornings- Paddy

Its just past 1pm on a Friday afternoon and I bet you think I'm about to say I have just woken up. Well... I woke up over 3 and a half hours ago! In the morning! In fact, rather surprisingly, I have seen the morning every day so far this week! If I'm honest though, I don't see what all the fuss about the morning is. It is similar to the afternoon but less pleasant and then makes you sleepy in the afternoon. Next week I shall return to my usual ways and sleep in until roughly 4pm, like a hibernating walrus. Well not exactly like a walrus, walruses (walri?) don't hibernate. I shall therefore change my simile to "sleep in until roughly 4pm, like a hibernating bear." But what have you done to warrant your early starts thus far in the week? I hear you cry out that question and I answer with: on Monday I rose early to empty my bladder and could not return to sleep; Tuesday was a similar scenario to Monday; Wednesday I went to buy my father's Christmas present and then on to the cinema; Thursday I went shopping with my female friend Sian; and today, today I was forced up to go and play football at 10.30am. Not even a proper game, who gets up at 10.30 for a kickabout? Fools that's who. And apparently me.
OMG NEXT TIME I BLOG IT'LL BE CRIMBO/XMAS/CHRISTMAS, depending on what decade's slang you use.

Crunch - Alex

Today two things have gone crunch, and neither of them were particularly desirable. The first thing that went crunch was something inside the doughnut I had for my breakfast. I'm sure you can imagine the horror on my face as I sunk my teeth into the jam filled, microwave heated pod of perfection only to discover a rookie mistake on the bakers hand. I was traumatised to the extent that when I had a doughnut but a minute ago I bit into it slowly, just in case.

Secondly (and more seriously) my knee did a weird crunching noise. That in its self is not too disconcerting, my knees creak all of the stinking time. The worrying part is it that it crunched whilst my knee cap decided to pop its self out and then back into where it should be. This is especially worrying because my knee has a history of going where ever it pleases. Darn tootin'.

Films- Paddy

Today I went to the near by town of Basingstoke. For why? Because Basingstoke has a cinema, something the humble Farnborough is yet to acquire. By Basingstoke, I mean Camberly, which is also a neighbouring town with a cinema. We went to the cinema to see the new film "Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows". It is, according to Wikipedia, a 2011 British-American action mystery film directed by Guy Ritchie. It also, according to me, a jolly good film starring Robert Downey Jnr and co-starring Stephen Fry, who is seen naked at one point. It is, however, not as good as its predecessor "Sherlock Holmes" also starring Robert Downey Jnr, but not co-starring Stephen Fry.
In other film news, I saw the new Dark Knight Rises trailer for the first time yesterday. I am a bit of a Batman fan and in short the trailer BLEW MY MIND! And I mean BLEW! I was stunned into silence and all my excitement for this upcoming superhero film directed by Christopher Nolan and written by Nolan and his brother Jonathan (also from Wikipedia). It stars Christian Bale and Tom Hardy and Michael Caine and its definitely going to be very good.

Would you like help packing your bag, Sir? - Alex

It is currently 08:03 AM and in 12 minutes I am leaving to spend my day packing customers bags in a near by supermarket. A troop of other fellow world challengers are also doing it with me, so we'll take over the tills (well perch awkwardly towards the end of the conveyor belt) and fill our buckets with loose change and buttons. FUND RAISING EXTRAVAGANZA. The specific supermarket is Marks & Spencers in The Meadows. If you don't know where that is, I don't blame you, you're probably not from my neck of the woods. If you do know where that is, why don't you come on down today? Buy a whole host of brittle goods and one mallet and watch me struggle to pack your bag. As long as you toss 20p in my bucket afterwards I'll give you a gleaming smile and a genuine "Thank you very much Sir/Madame". Manners are important, my Mummy told me that.

Yesterday Patrick showed you the pictures of the rubix cube cake we made. There is something else we did yesterday that he didn't tell you about. Something much less innocent. Something that when I got in and I told my Mum what we had done she said "Tut, boys will be boys". Something that on more than one occasion brought a look of sheer anguish to the face of every gang member. I've made it out to be worse that it is, we just drank a bottle of food colouring each in the hope that it would make our wee a funny colour. So far I have urinated three times since drinking the dye and not one has even been vaguely red (my food colouring of choice). Also we watched "A Serbian Film" yesterday, whilst beginning off vaguely comically it ended up fairly gross. I wouldn't recommend it unless you are seriously mentally disturbed.

Right I need to leave now, I'm going to listen to either Michael Buble or Common in my car on the way there. There is no real reason for me to tell you that, I just thought you deserve to know everything that's going on in my life.

NOTE TO SELF - TELL THE READERS ABOUT THE IPAD STORY IN YOUR NEXT BLOG

Rubik's Cake- Paddy

Ace of cakes, eat you heart out, there's a new cake making gang on the block. A gang that consists of me and alex and to other non-important friends. Today we made a cake you see, and it was next level! Feast your eyes on this:

Thats not our cake. Thats a rubik's cube and it gave us an idea for top notch cakery. Have a look:

Thats also not  our cake. That was the cake we were inspired by. It is from the internet website called www.pimpthatsnack.com and we thought it'd be fun to make this multicoloured deliciousness ourselves.
Our cake ended up looking rather more like this:

 Yeah! Thats our cake! Completed Rubik's Cube-y goodness. Triple Layer Victoria sponge with jame, smothered in jam and coated in icing. A cavity disguised as a puzzle.

C bomb - Alex

Me and Patrick have a mutual love for cockney gangster films, Pat had a little thing for Statham where as it is Winstone who butters my crumpets. The reason I bring this topic up is because last night I watched the film London Boulevard, a film about a man who gets out of clink and whilst trying to avoid the gangster scene, gets involved in the gangster scene. The plot is slightly thin and some of the appeal is lost due to the all to widely used "extreme violence solves everything" approach. The one thing I will remember the film for, though, is the alarmingly natural use of the c word. The four letter one that sounds a lot like "punt". I don't know the exact count; not even google does. But if I had to guess I would say that in the 103 minutes the c word is used at least 40 times. And naturally when the c word is present all other sorts of nasties follow. Incredibly graphic violence, drugs, and sex. And they are the three reasons I love cockney gangster films. They make me want to be brutally physical and thuggishly inclined. Sadly I am not, I am a pale, thinly built brainbox. Sadly I'm not even that brainy anymore, I've lost my mojo. I'd have to be the brains behind any operation, not that I think I'll end up involved in gangs. No matter what the media try to tell you about today's youth.

Crimbo Hols- Paddy

Yesterday was the last day of my school term. This means today was the first day of my Christmas Holidays. To mark this occasion I did nothing at all really. I slept until 1pm roughly and then once I had awoken did, as I already mentioned, nothing of note until now. I'm not sure why I determined my first day of the Christmas Holidays a worthy topic to blog about. I've already run out of stuff to say about it. Hmmm, not really sure where to go with this now, awkward. OOH I KNOW! In exactly 10 days, I have to play in the biggest game of the footballing calender, The 2011 St Peter's Church Christmas Cup. Its a much bigger game than it sounds, the church my sister attends divides the footballing males into two teams by age, The Young Legs and The Old Heads. I am a Young Leg, as it Vikki's erstwhile male companion, Stephen. However, many of the Old Head are the parents or elder siblings of members of the Young Legs and this leads to a fairly competitive and aggressive game. Last year I was called a phrase that rhymes with "Ducking Cat" for being fouled.
Right, I'll be finishing now. I'll be back on Mond'y.

Linkmania - Alex

Todays blog is something a little different, a list of links to things on the internet that I love to pieces.
Enjoy!

Possibly the best music video ever
The coolest thing ever done
One of the many reasons I love bears
OMG
Just a flamin' massive tune
Bored of videos?
Then go HERE and watch a riveting religious debate unfold, god bless Ricky Gervais ;)

1 too many- Paddy

Pengu!ns (pronounced Penguins) are an awful, awful, awful, awful band. I know this because last night I saw them perform live at the O2 arena in London. Fortunatley, I hadn't gone to the O2 to see Pengu!ns so I did not feel my money had been wasted. Nor did I go to the O2 to see Miles Kane, who was better than I'd anticipated and actually had some songs I knew. No, the reason I (and by I, I mean myself, Alex, our large friend, our moan-y friend, our bald friend and our non-descript friend) went all the way to London was to see the band known to their friends, and everyone else, as Kasabian. Alex has mentioned them before, mainly about how he has a man-crush on the guitarist Serge. Its understandable, he looks like he has been crafted out of material that is at least 75% swagger and the rest of it being made up of guitar playing-ness. Anyway, whilst we were watching the band perform many, many songs, we also noticed some strange ebhaviour in the crowd. First of all, there was the man who fell down the stairs after having 1 drink in a plastic cup too many, and then there was the other man who kept trying to climb down the rows of seats, also having had 1 too many. But not all of the unusual behaviour was alcohol induced, one man a few rows behind us fell asleep for a good 20 minutes. A man who is clearly capable of sleeping through anything, I wish I was him.
Right, that'll do me for today. I'll see you at the weekend bbz.

Shout out - Alex

Recently I was caught up in a bit of mistaken profession. A bit of cheekily Pointon induced, mistaken profession. My friend has a cousin who as part of his university course has to partake in the production  and broadcast of a radio station. Both me, my friend and then this other boy we pretend to like were listening to this radio station in a free. This is when it came to us, if we text the cousin then maybe we could get a shout out! So within minutes we had text him saying "Can we have a shout out for A. Pizzle?", and almost instantaneously we heard coming through our headphones "And we have a shout out for an A. Pizzle". That's it we were famous. Task complete. Job done. But then the co-presenter goes "A. Pizzle? He better be a rapper, otherwise it's a stupid name." Straight away we informed them that I was, infact, a rapper*. WOOPS. They then invite me to send in some of my stuff, offering to play it on air. I am now considering writing, recording and then hopefully getting a top ten hit with a rap song. But there's a moral to this story, don't pretend to be something you are not.

*I am by no means a rapper

Ps. The radio station in question is nerve radio. A small university radio station. They had 15 listeners when I was shouted out, Alexnpaddy is bigger than that!

Bit of a Nap - Paddy

I literally just woke up like 5 minutes ago. But before you all get all incredulous and demand why I have slept through the day, let me elaborate. I have not slept all day. I woke up at 9.30, went to college at roughly 10.20 and returned home from college at roughly 2.15 (yes I had a short day at college). I the watched Scrubs which took me to about 3pm and it was at this point, that I fell asleep. So really I only had a short snooze fo 2-2 1/2 hours which I feel is entirely justifiable. I'm not going to justify it, but it is possible. I was awoken from my little nap, by none other than my own mother brandishing a cup of tea at me. Actually, brandishing is the wrong word, she proffered the tea, which I duly accepted and shlurped down. Unfortunately, my snooze rather cut into the time I have available in which to do my homework, especially since I have some physics to do tomorrow. If I'm honest, I've probably done all this in the wrong order. I should have done my physics then blogged then snoozed not the other way round. Ah well it cannot be undone, I'll just go and do the physics now so no-one gets hurt.

Right pukka - Alex

Today is my mothers 26th (51st) birthday and as a little treat for her I've decided to make fajitas for tea. I didn't already know a fajita recipe, but alas the internet helped me out big time. Not only the internet, Jamie Oliver. HERE'S the recipe I'm using, very simple. Hopefully, very nice. I decided to put my own spin on the salsa though. I figured telly chefs look like they have fun so I might as well dabble in the unknown and attempt to master what is essentially just chopped tomato and then a whole host of other potential ingredients. What could go wrong? Well so far, nothing at all. And I'm not even being a smart arse, I was tempted to write this earlier and to have gone "What could go wrong? Well so far, nothing at all. But that's because I haven't started". But alas I have started, I'm just warming the salsa. WARMING THE SALSA?!?! I hear you gasp in shock. THE RECIPE YOU LINKED US TO DOESN'T TELL YOU TO WARM THE SALSA. Well that's where I used my own intuition. I saw the finished product as Jamie intended and thought to myself "Well, what do you know about cooking Jamie Oliver?". I added in a bit of mint and salt to lift the flavour a touch and then bunged it all in a frying pan to reduce the amount of liquid and intensify the flavour. Also I wanted to soften the texture a touch, so it all blended into one orgasmic mess in your mouth. Beautiful imagery. So I took on Jamie Oliver at his own game, how did I do?

Well I tweet later and let you know what Mumma P thinks, but expect me to win by a landslide.

26th December- Paddy

Tomorrow starts the final week of my first term in my second year at my fourth educational establishment. That may not sound very exciting, but it does mean that as of tomorrow, Boxing Day will be exactly 2 weeks away. "Boxing Day?!" I hear you cry "Who cares about Boxing Day?". Well, in answer to your incredulity, I care about Boxing Day and I will now elaborate as to for why. Boxing Day, or to give it its correct name of St Stephen's Day, is the day after Christmas and I enjoy Boxing Day for 3 main reasons.1) It is the day for playing. On Christmas day, you receive your gifts, but on Boxing Day, you play with them. For m it used to be a day of building lego but not it is a day of playing new XBOX games or putting batteries into new electronics.
2) It is the day of leftovers. Boxing day food is, in my opinion, as good if not a tad better than Christmas day food. Boxing day is the day of slices of meat, and thick tukey based soups but without any of the vegetables one is made to indulge in upon Christmas day.
3) It is the day of relaxation. Christmas day is fraut with cooking and bickering and mess and rubbish and all manner of other slightly strenuous activities.

These are the reasons I enjoy Boxing Day so much, and I just thought I'd share them with you.

LAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDZZZZ - Alex

Last night I did partying at a party that I went to. That's beside the point though, the real topic of this blog is about me being an ulti-lad. Today for lunch me, Patrick and our big friend went to the cafe (pronouncing it caff makes it much more manly) and ate meat. Not just meat though, I had other non-meat products too. But a big plate full off bacon, sausage, chips, beans, black pudding, egg and bread served with two brews filled up my tummy nicely. If you look at it broadly a fry up is probably one of the most manly meals, stopping short of biting chunks out of a live cow I can't think of anything more manly. Also take into consideration that we spent the best part of 90 minutes talking about football, drinking tea and telling rude/insensitive jokes. LAAADZZZ.

I have another piece of evidence to prove I'm a lad too. I'm going on a lads holiday. With other lads. To my fellow lads Nan's house... LAAAADDDZZZZ. That isn't even the end of it, we'd be able to ride quad bikes and get lovely sun tans. Not me though, I can't tan. Damn pale skin. Grrrr.

So now you know I'm a LAAAAADDDD I can end this blog. Seeya mate.

Super Mario- Paddy

Alex is a Manchester United fan, and therefore everything about Manchester City is regard in an extremely negative light by him. Everything that is except 1 thing. That one thing is Mario Balotelli. He is regarded by both Alex and myself as something of a lad, both for his on and off field exploits. In no particular order he has:

• Set fire to his own house by firing rockkets from his bathroom.
• Gone clean through on goal and back-heeled the ball wide.
• Buying several thousand pounds were of luxuries when asked to buy some groceries.
• Given £1000 to a random homeless man.
• Scored a goal with his shoulder.
• Told a policeman he had £5000 on him because he "is rich".
• Thrown darts at his team mates
• Celebrated by revealing a shirt with "Why always me?" on it

This list of exploits, plus many more have secured Mario's place in both mine and Alex's hearts. Despite him being a Manchester City player.
I would apologise for writing this entirely about Balotelli but I wanted to, so there.

White boy - Alex

The bloke (scrawny white boy) I sit next to in physics today wrote a rap today, because he'd "finished his mechanics mock so early that he needed something to do". And here is his comically woeful attempt at waxing lyrical...

I've been waiting,
and hating,
all this trouble
you been taking,
I'm not faking
or making
up lies
that's just wasting;
all the love
in the world
that I have for you
and I'm sorry for the pain
that I put you through
I hate myself for it
I wont do it again
I wanna move forward
so I'm writing with this pen
the words I hope you wanna hear
so I can whisper sweet nothings in your ear
and take back the cruel things I said
so we can go back, and just lay in your bed

Terrible, I know. I don't even see how it works as a rap. I hope you've enjoyed the woefulness.

Para Para- Paddy

Hiya Everybody!Today I have a song stuck in my head. It is this song. For those of you too lazy to click that link and find out what sing it is, it's Paradise by Coldplay from their latest album Mylo Xyltotolootltotlto. Its the one that goes "para para paradise", you know the one I mean. Any way, to try and get this song out of my head I have been listening to many other different songs in an attempt to replace it in incessantly playing across my mind. Amongst the tunes I've tried to replace Chris Martin (lead singer of Coldplay for those of you who live in a cave) with are LMFAO's Sexy and I know it, The Darkness' I believe in a thing called love and Dan Bull's Epic Skyrim Rap, which believe lives up to its name in being a rap about Skyrim which is epic. His rhymes are peng. (Did I use "peng" correctly? I'm not sure). Anyway, that is a fairly mixed set of musics (yeah I just used the word musics, and what?) floating around my head. Its also, by popular cuture standards, a fairly poor and geeky selection of songs, especially the Skyrim rap. Liking that rap makes me about as geeky as Stephen Hawking's fan club at a WoW (World of Warcraft) convention boasting about how good their Level 83 Paladins are.
That'll do me for now, I'll be back on Friday when it is time to partAY.





PS. I had to google all that stuff about WoW. I'm not that geeky, honest.

Essay - Alex

At the moment I have the first two paragraphs of a history essay hand written, on a piece of paper. The paper is in a closed pad of paper. The closed pad of paper also happens to be in a folder. A closed folder. The closed folder is also in my rucksack. And the rucksack is in my dining room, a whole floor away from where I currently am. Why am I telling you this? To be perfectly honest, it's probably some sort of subconscious cry for held. But I actually think I'm telling you this because I can. The generally accepted function of a blog is to inform the adoring masses* about the goings on in one's life. Referring to myself in third person, on the regal ting. And because my life is boring the biggest thing going on right now is a measly history essay. It doesn't even need to get done tonight, I'm going into college to do it tomorrow morning. I'm not really pressed for time, in fact we got set a very reasonable deadline. A whole week to write 2-4 sides of A4. I've wandered off of topic. Actually, in true Patrick style, I never had a topic. So I shall do the other thing Patrick does, leave you abruptly and feeling disappointed. Soz.

*the term masses has been used loosely

Parachuting- Paddy

I spent a good 3 hours today dropping parachutes that I made out of a bin liner off of the various internal balconies at college. (Yeah my college has balconies INDOORS, it has that much class.) I did this not just for "the lols" as some (but not me) might say but for my A-Level Physics grade. I had to do a practical experiment involving dropping parachutes and the various factors influencing the time of the 'chutes descent. For a piece of coursework, I found it surprisingly fun not least due to the fact 4 other boys were stood with me, all doing slight variations on the parachute dropping theme. One boy even rigged uo an intricate parachute guidance system to make sure all his drops followed the same path. The rest of us were envious of his genius but only briefly. It kept screwing up and snagging his parachutes and thereby made his results take a lot longer to collect. I gloated about this, because I got to leave about an hour before him.On a different note, the Young Boys will not be building upon last week's stirling 2-2 draw. Today we have a league cup tie against the Tuga Stars. The Tuga Stars are 5th in Division 1, the Young Boys are 2nd bottom in Division 2. I am not confindent in my teams ability to match or better our superior opposition. We can only hope that unforseen circumstances prevent the Tuga Stars from arriving at football on time and therefore have to forfeit the game. A non-lethal and non-injuring car crash would do nicely. Or any other way of preventing them playing will do. Anything at all.

Me - Alex

 You may or may not know/care that in my recent history I shaved off the jewfro that had become my trademark. Even before I took a set of clippers to my much loved (and probably equally detested) barnet I knew that I would grow it back. Every day since I shaved my head I've been taking a picture of myself from the shoulders up. Now I have 73 photos of my face from 73 consecutive days, all I can say is that my hair is much smaller than I was hoping for. As you can see on the left my hair is still not even resembling a jewfro at all. It's just a little bit fluffy and messy. Also you will notice that I changed location, I did that after 25 days because it's much brighter in my room than in the corner of my living room. Something else that came to my attention is how stinking grumpy I look! I understand that I'm hardly going to look too excited for a quick photo, but I look like I've just been told that JLS have broken up (I'm possibly their biggest fan, they just produce hit after hit, it's they aren't human?!).

I now fear that my hair is going to take a much longer time than I originally forecasted to morph back into the glorious jewfro that made me a recognisable happy chappy. B.C. (before cutting) I thought I'd have something vaguely resembling a jew fro withing about 4 months. Now I'm 2.5 months in I'm thinking that it'll be a solid 6 months before I have anything even close to my ex-trademark mop. Very sad times for my scalp.

Ps. Just to let you know, I'm 69% misanthropic, or at least so I'm told by this website http://www.blogthings.com/howmisanthropicareyouquiz/

Uncertainty- Paddy

Uncertainty is defined by google as

The state of being uncertain: "times of uncertainty and danger".

Something that is uncertain or that causes one to feel uncertain: "financial uncertainties".

Today I find myself expiriencing the first definition there. As I write this blog, I am uncertain of 3 things. Firstly, what to write this blog about; I'm considering writing an entire post about being uncertain but I'm not sure that would go down to well with you, the readers. Secondly, I am uncertain about what to do post-blog. I have work tonight at 7pm and do not really know how to fill my two hour gap until then. I should probably shower and get dressed. Yes, thats right, it is now 16:51 and I am yet to get out of my Pjs. And what. My third area of uncertainty is what to buy my Father for the upcoming winter festival known colloquially as "Crimbo". My mother has suggested that my sister and I purchase him either beer, a t-shirt, books or slippers. It is likely that we get one of the first 3 options as I refuse to buy him slippers as that seems like an old person thing to buy him. No offence to old people who buy slippers for christmas.

This blog is  now plenty long enough and I apologise for writing the whole thing about uncertainty. I expect my doing this will lead to a disappointingly low number of page views, unlike this post, which now has over 100. Just saying.

Community - Alex

Being an A-level Modern History student I had the pleasure of studying Britain from the tail end of WW2 right up until the present day. One them that was ever-present was the sense of community across the vast majority of Britain. Post war jingoism led to mass street parties and huge outcries of pride in being British. When you add that the style of living back in the day lent itself to promoting a deeply ingrained sense of community, it is no surprise that everyone knew everybody's news and neighbour's were usually close friends.

I find the idea of "community" awfully charming, sadly my stomping ground seems to be devoid of this sense of community. I live in a 5 house cul-de-sac, meaning, in theory me and my family could be friends with all four of our neighbours. As I have already referenced, there is no real community feel to my area. We used to be fairly chumy with one set of our neighbours, however when they moved out it all seemed to disintegrate. Working clock wise around the cul-de-sac my personal feeling towards the inhabitants of the houses go as follows...

Lovely, lovely elderly bloke living by himself. Occasionally we exchange pleasantries and swap small talk.

A family with children (now adults) just a few years older than me. I've lived next door to them for nearly 18 years yet still know very little about them.

Another family with children a few years older than myself. They probably moved in about 5 years ago, and they seem nice enough people. I'll nod at them if we see one another, but rarely hold a full conversation.

Now just a couple, used to have children who grew up and moved out. The only other house which has never changed ownership during my 17 and 3/4 years in the cul-de-sac. The husband endlessly cleans his car and mows his lawn. I know little else.

Now that's bad. I've lived within 50 feet of these people for many years and beyond their names, vague occupations and habits I know very little. It works the other way too, only the man living by himself knew in advance that I had booked my driving test. He is also my only neighbour who knows what course I want to do at university, where I want to go and how my football is going. The long and the short of it? Whilst the idea of community is a quaint one, it seems not the be feasible in my location. I dare not speak on his behalf, but I assume that Patrick is in an all too similar position.

So to end the blog on a thought, where has the community spirit gone? Much the same way as posting a letter I assume, it only over happens at Christmas.

Advent- Paddy

Today is the first day of the twelth month of the eleventh year of the first century of the second millenium since Jesus was born (alledgedly, don't want to annoy the Jews/ Hindus/ Muslims/ Sikhs/ Buddhists/ Athiests/ Scientologists/ Jedis/ Others). That means that is now only 24 days until Jesus' 2011th birthday. This in turn means that today I got to open an advent calender and consume the delicious square of chocolate concealed behind that small cardboard door. My piece was shaped like a cracker today (the kind you pull to make a bang, not the kind you spread butter and cheese on). I  realised that finding the excitement of opening the calendar so exciting is a tad wrong for someone who is now legally an adult who can vote and what not. I was somewhat shaken out of this deadening realisation when I realised my sister, who is now a 20 year old in her final year at a not bad university, was even more excited about hers and was extremely indignant when my mother suggested she not get one this year. Fortunately, my mother yielding to Vikki's requests, otherwise I fear the blood of many an innocent child parading their calendars in Exeter would have been killed. Probably not though, Vikki isn't the murdering type. Or at least she isn't as far as I'm aware...