Tales of daily life from a 20-something Student from London.

Saturday, 21 May 2011


Pillowcase Blues

They said today was going to be the apocalypse. By they I mean some Hippie from the Southern States of the US of A. About as reliable a source as the Daily Star. But it didn't stop facebook and twitter jumping all over it and cracking some of the worst gags known to man, e.g. People are making Rapture jokes like there's no tomorrow... ha. But I honestly believe that here, at the end of Comet Road, Hatfield, the end of time has generally arrived.

It's five to eight. PM. Since 7am this morning, an alarm that sounds like a fire engine with Delhi Belly has been pounding away about 100 yards from my window. Alright, I got up at eight for breakfast, but every time I go back upstairs, it's there. Haunting me, like a lazy RingWraith with a hangover. Right now, I am worried for my ability to get to sleep tonight. Will it still be there? Probably, it is a Saturday and who wants to come and sort out an alarm when National Lottery Who Dares Wins with Nick Knowles is on (I totally love this show by the way). It's safe to say then, that it will be there. Piercing my ear drums. All night. And then I remembered the James De Gale fight is on. And everything is right in the world.

Dentist Disaster

Nobody likes the dentist. I don't. I love Pomegranate juice, and the weird Polish lady tells me not to have so much of it. How dare she keep me apart from my one true love in the juice world. But when you're laying there in the chair with a light brighter than the sun beaming in your face and two metal poking sticks hanging out of your mouth and the dentist starts asking you what you've been eating, how the hell are you supposed to respond?


"I don't understand you"

"I don't understand why you think I can talk when I look like an mouthy Edward Scissor-hands."

Not that she understood that. It was more of another "ugggwerghh".

I think she then purposely tried to make the check-up more painful and humiliating by trying to get me to spill the mouthwash out of my mouth onto my tiny bib she had given me. This failed. She wasn't beating me today.

A little bit dribbled onto my sleeve though.  

Over and out.