Penultimate Term

Well the title pretty much says it all really, this is the beginning of the end for me at Lancaster. I’m sure that’s going to come as welcome news to some people…

Currently am sat in my room at Dallas Rd doing this instead of working. Oh well, its not like I have an assignment in for tomorrow at noon…wait, I have. Shit. Cant really tell you much about me recently, been procrastinating as usual (like now). Christmas was good, I got some good stuff lol. I had a gf this year which was nice. Didn’t get to spend the day with Becky though but she got me an amazing LEGO Star Wars watch which I had to build. I was made up :]

Right, just thought a quick update would do for now. Ill keep in touch (!)





That’s Entertainment!

Imagine if you will, dear reader, the vexation I felt yesterday morning whilst getting my bus ticket and being told it cost £1.60 more than normal. If it wasn’t bad enough that I had to be getting a damned bus at 7:15 in the morning, I got told that the Dayrider wasn’t available until 9AM and so would have to pay for a return to University which was £7.50

I enquired as to weather I would receive an extra £1.60s worth of service either with refreshments or in the form of him dancing a merry jig for me or singing me a song.


As I stood up as my stop was coming up, he started to sing ‘Danny Boy’ to me.


That’s Entertainment folks.


Now I finally had to give up my temporary shopping celibacy by going to Sainsbury’s this morning. Normally, I generally try to stay away from the Clusterfuck that is a supermarket for two main reasons:

  1. The aforementioned clusterfucking that resembles certain unimaginative FPS games (Halo*COUGH*) one receives upon walking through said generic supermarket, and
  2. The useless wankers that populate said places and cause the clusterfucking in the FIRST PLACE!!! (Other blatant 360 reference)

Sadly, however, my fridge’s stocks were running tragically low and I was running the very real risk of developing scurvy if I kept up with my "no vegetables" stratagem. So I was left with very little other choice than to go.

What struck me boldest in the face with a fish, like a very funny Monty Python sketch, was the realisation of how incompetent my fellow shoppers were. Not the two people I was with, the rest of the people in there. I find it mind boggling that the Government doesn’t have standard shopping times within which only certain people can shop. My recommendation would be this; whenever I am (or people of equal greatness is) in a supermarket only intelligent and witty people may remain, whereas the rest of the time can be used up by useless, trout-slapped, art-student dimwits and people that think that the 360 is a superior system to the PS3.

Oh wait, they’re probably the same people…*Cough* MOVING ON!

Upon walking around, to find some meat to vary my dead animal diet, I found out that the "Basics" range is more or less as expensive as buying the normal stuff; after some thought I realised that was because of the current mind-set of "Oh, but we need to be nice to all the little chickens." Presumably because someone, somewhere has a very real fear of them becoming the dominant animal on this planet and enslaving the human race like a benevolent version of evil Chocobos. Even more reason to keep the little buggers down, surely? I’m sorry, but if I buy a cheap lump of meat I want to have the grim satisfaction of knowing that something has suffered for my enjoyment. This is similar to the reason why I like KFC, Nestle, Nescaffe and Killzone 2 (the latter being the utter humiliation of the 360 when people stop to realise that KZ2 is only using about 1/3 of the processing power available to it when the 360 would probably implode if you tried to cross it over. TAKE THAT MICROSOFT!!!)
After a while of calming down, some pseudo-middle class, menopausal woman starts more or less shouting down the phone to her no doubt snobby children about the superiority of "Organic" foods.

What the hell is the fucking difference between "Organic" milk and normal milk? I’ll tell you the bloody difference; 50 bloody pence per shitting pint, thats the fucking difference nancy boy so quit your bitching about the plight of the highland cow!

Toward the end of this audio spectacle the woman starts shouting EVEN LOUDER asking if they could still hear her, presumably because her kids have lost interest and are now probably making racist jokes toward their ethnic butler.
You see it has come to my attention that Sainsbury’s exists for those people who think they are good enough to shop at M+S but aren’t, M+S to separate the wheat from the chaff for Waitrose and Waitrose to keep non-Londoners away from Harrods.

"But Sam, you Herculean demonstration of manliness," I hear you all cry, "Why are you bothered about where this snooty bitch shops?" I’ll tell you why, dear reader, I’m bothered about this self-righteous, soul-stealing, social-vampire thinking that she’s mingled with the masses by going to an un-chav populated clusterfucking supermarket.

Whilst trying to recover from Cruella DeVille the speakers blurted out some shite about buying something as a gift with it being St George’s day. Fuck Off! Stop trying to blatantly up your sales by pretending that buying from you would be patriotic. I plan on buying copious amounts of Bombardier and getting slaughtered to celebrate. Y’know like always.

On the way to the checkouts, in an attempt to escape the clutches of insanity that was hiding round every aisle as subtly as a GRENADE TO THE FACE I stumbled upon what I believe to be the pinnacle of our decadent society. Flavoured water. I mean WHATS THE FUCKING POINT? Didn’t we have cordials over 100 years ago? Didn’t THAT flavour the fucking water?

In short, Supermarkets are shit. Unless you plan on reducing them to rubble with a grenade launcher with as much subtlety as an Arnie movie and as much class as *insert any Fast and Furious film here* I whole-heartedly suggest NOT GOING.

That is all.

Hey people!

I can’t be arsed with  the current state of things, so I’ve decided to create my own state.

Amongst other things, one of the reasons is one of my “sociology degree” flatmates complaining of the 5 mins of noise that I made just now with guests compared to the 24 hours or so she plus her friends have made during the past year. I mean FUCKING HELL woman, get a grip on scale here.




Just one MORE reason why engineers don’t go well with useless people.



Feckin’ fire alarm again! A close shave

Well it’s a Tuesday morn’. Again. So another fire alarm! Again!
I went into my kitchen after a very nice shower and was greeted with a blue fug. After a quick sweepof the room I ran to the windows, opened them as far as they could go and then ran toward the extractor fan to turn it on. After that I turned the grill off. Idiots! Who left it on?
I remembered, me after my bacon butties. Shit.

‘Ok, ok’ I thought to myself, ‘The fire alarm hasn’t gone off yet. All good. Make yourself a coffee and calm down mutha trucker.’
So I did.

Just as I was about to take my first sip, the alarm went off.
When the porters came, they said it was set off in flat 3! (I live in 8)
‘OOooo, that was a close one!’