Sunday, February 6, 2011


I have just run for a bus to avoid walking up a hill. This only struck me, whilst on that very same bus, that it was quite possibly the most counter productive thing I could have done. I'm trying to avoid using all excess energy today as I don't really have a lot of it and I fear doing things like walking up a hill might mean later I open the fridge, use up my last ounce of physical ability and fall face first into the vegetable draw. This is entirely possible. Much like my belief that you only have a certain amount of words per day (SEE HERE), I'm fairly sure you are allocated only a certain amount of energy per week and once you've run out you just fall over and recuperate, while people shovel sugar into your mouth and wrap you in foil blankets. People that do marathons use all their energy in four hours, hence Lucozade and mega bacofoil antics. My energy is in the red section of my power bar were I in a computer game. Its often lucky I'm not as any gamers would find my continuous one level design rather dull. Press A to go to the fridge, press B to contemplate going outside, Press X to tell someone once again that you are doing some work, Press Y to look at your computer, tweet something inane the look in the fridge again. The option to 'Continue' will be juxtaposed with an option saying 'How about you turn this off and look at your paltry life?'. Not that you'd get the continue option as it'd pretty hard for my character to die, unless you overeat St Agur cheese till your cholesterol levels choke your own heart, or you die of boredom waiting for anything really to happen. Sigh.

The reason I feel like this is all down to my friend Sam. I don't know if you have this, but I find most of my friends have a series of Top Trump like qualities that set them apart from each other. Here's a few examples:

Stefan - Special powers: Knows everything about films; when he gets food in a restaurant or takeaway it almost always has something wrong with it (ie pizza isn't cut into slices, dish is a bit cold, he gets served last etc etc); has the best and most entertaining arguments with people in shops about ridiculous things (ie when he first wanted to buy an iPod and the man told him it had a 27 hour battery life if you don't press the buttons. Stefan then told him he was an idiot as of course he will press the buttons, before berating him for his insolence)

Tom - Special powers: Can pull his pants right up to his armpits; ability to forget everything you've said within seconds of saying it; controls water to the extent that the bathroom is flooded everyday.

Manisha - Special powers: invents her own incredible slang; can bust funky moves; untamable hair/ sense of mischief.

Mat - Special powers: can eat large amounts of things; should you need anyone to make an indent in a sofa over sufficient amounts of time, he's a professional.

I'm tempted to do this for everyone I know but it will be a very long blog and I suspect most of them won't be my friends by the time I'm done. Although thy should realise that I see all of these attributes as talents and skills, therefore likening them very much to superheroes. Really really shit superheroes, but superheroes nonetheless. Yesterday was an evening with Sam. Sam has several well known powers, such as an inability to be on time ever for anything. People sometimes make the statement about someone being late for their own funeral. I find this ridiculous as when someone dies you go from being Mr or Mrs so and so to becoming the late Mr and Mrs so and so, so you'll be late for your funeral whether you like it or not. Sam however, will actually be late for his. There is no doubt to this in my mind. His body, despite only being perhaps 10-20 mins away from his funeral service will somehow get jarred in the door or the driver will lock himself out of his car. Something will happen. Its how he works. Sam also has an amazing power to come out of the blue with some of the most ridiculous, crude but always hilarious comments when least expected, his hair grows at a rate that is unnatural in every way and lastly, he has the power that he used last night. I'm not sure how he does it, but Sam always knows very good places to drink.

When I was visiting my friend Jonathan in Oslo he told me of a bar in London that I had to go to, that you find a number on a website and call it and the place only fits 20 people. It sounded excellent, till he showed me it and I remembered that Sam had taken us there several times back in 2008. We no longer go as its probably so passe now. This is in no way true but I will continue to tell whoever I like that we made that place hella fashionable then left it for all the latecomers to discover it while we found elsewhere. Last night's ventures started in a pub near him that I very much like for its atmosphere, staff and last night for sitting on a table next to someone dressed as Elmo and another dressed as Cookie Monster. There is something horribly wrong yet so very right about educational puppets drinking booze. I like to think this is an apt reflection of post shoot hours on Sesame Street with Oscar drinking straight whisky and shouting lude comments at Gladys The Cow, while Bert and Ernie sip margaritas through straws from the same cup. We then moved to a secret-ish bar that I've been to before, where since our last visit it seems to have become so secret none of the waitresses divulged our drinks orders to anyone once they'd been passed on. I complain, but the place is very cool and I constantly love the feeling that I'm being let in on a special hub of awesome that no one else knows about. We moved from there to a Chinese restaurant I'd never been to before, then two different excellent pubs one after the other and finally back at Sam & Ali's house for further whisky. What was originally a planned 'quiet drink' descended into 9 hours of brutal drinking, inane conversation and general excellence.

Unplanned evenings are the best and apart from a night several months ago that I am constantly pleased I won't remember, I applaud the night out that continues on its own path once you've revved it up and oiled it well with several drinks. I might make it an intent of mine to not plan any evening from now on. It could then write a book along the lines of the 'Yes Man' or that dude that did the thing with the dice. Not, not the man that just played Snakes and Ladders for ages, the other one. I reckon all it would be about though is a man who misses all his gigs, his career fails as a result, he is consequently broke and then spends 6 months deciding whether to contemplate going outside, tell someone he's working even though he's not, or tweet something inane before waking up days later extremely cold and nestled amongst mouldy tomatoes and a severly neglected courgette. Sigh.

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