Frisbeeing - a new Olympic sport?

Ahhh....the joys of frisbeeing. Who'd have thought such a simple object could bring such endless fun. It's a glorified game of throw and catch, but the curl, speed, height of the frisbee make it a bloody fun way to pass the time. Intertwined with a bit of keepy-uppy, frisbeeing turned what was going to be a boring Saturday afternoon into a rather decent one. Goring Gap (the non-dogging part) was packed with underaged girls flaunting their boooootay, a number of arguments involving chavs which in turn involved the most consistent use of "oh my God" I've ever heard in my life whilst also it saw the invasion of about 40 tourists who spent the afternoon running around broomhandles. Those crazy foreigners and their weird ways to pass the time....

I see the Snooker World Championship is back on again, I swear it only seems like yesterday that the last one finished. I don't watch it, but it's hard to avoid it when it's on the TV for the whole bloody day. I fail to see the obsession with it. John Parrott's crap jokes in the studio are funny for about 5 minutes, after that, he's someone you just want to slap in the face with a bag full of doorknobs.

Team Win's fluke streak continued yesterday early evening with a number of lucky goals which knocked the stuffing out of Team (No idea what our name is) whose great defending and sexy attacking play weren't rewarded because the referee was being particularly cuntish.

T'Arctic Monkeys new album is released in the morning. Although it's been leaked for a good couple of weeks, and whilst I've listened and somehow acquired it, I'm dreadfully tempted to break my CD-buying amnesty and go out and purchase it tomorrow, given how good their first, though overhyped (Cheers NME), album was. I doubt I will though in the forseeable future, but we'll see. Off to see Maccabees on Thursday in Portsmouth. Hoping it's a good gig and I don't come away with any STDs, in fact, a crap gig and no STDs is a good evening in Portsmouth....

Just when you thought Chelsea might peg ManYoo back to a point in the title race, Titus Bramble plays a blinder and Chelsea escape St James' Park with just a point, leaving the gap still at three points ahead of a nervy title run-in. I reckon the psychological blow of being kept at bay by Titus Bramble might just put Chelsea off of overtaking United, though with them both set to meet in a SkySportssettocreamthemselfoverthepremiershipagain match on May 9th at the Bridge, I guess that could be the decider....

Cristiano del Flipflop Ronaldo has just won both the PFA Player, and Young Player of the Award. Can't really argue there. For someone who's turned into someone with feck all end product into a player who can make even the greatest defenders looks stupid, yes, even Titus Bramble. He's one heck of a player, one I've had the privilege of seeing live and hope to do so again in the future. Take a boo son.

Revision is the order of this week. It's making me tired just thinking about it.

Global Warming debate: Part 567,201

No sooner had we all recieved our Easter eggs had they all been melted by the sun, which is unusually radiating down on sunny, cosmopolitan East Preston at the moment. The government tell us to eat healthily and encourage a healthy diet, incorporating the '5-a-day' portions of fruit and veg; yet at the same time they condemn global warming and all that comes with it. This is the same global warming that has just melted thousands of Easter eggs which are notoriously unhealthy and 'against' government recommendation. If that's not a sign of blatent inconsistency and that they don't know what they're doing, I've got no idea what is.

And yes, that's an incredibly tenuous, strained and tedious link between the two, but if it works for the newspapers, who sell shedloads of papers which are built on the solid foundation of bullsh*t - it can work for me.

If it wasn't for global warming, people wouldn't be going out earlier in the year than usual and buying shorts, flip-flops, t-shirts and all that jazz. And with the summers getting longer, people are liklier to spend more on summery things which can be rather costly. This all contributes, healthily, to the UK's GDP which increases. This means the government can increase interest rates to combat inflation following increased spending, increase tax to put people off of spending, all in the way of raising MORE revenue to piss away on crap projects like the Millennium Dome. So, really, global warming's quite good for the government. Yet they condemn it.

And I don't see that making the papers.

I could bore you with a whole tonne of these analogies, but I won't. I'm nice.

Fecking warm though, this weekend. As such, loads of single mums with vest tops on, gut hanging out of the bottom, fag out the mouth and pushing a pushchair, certainly makes you proud to be English. A lot of horse-sh*t sold at Haskins (literally) and apparently it does good stuff for your soil. In that case, why do horse owners have crap looking gardens? Another one for the conspiracy theorists....

Went to go see Shooter on Friday night. A film about a sniper who was framed for killing the US' president. It then went off on a number of tangents before coming to an ending, 2 and a half hours later. Went on a bit, but probably just about worth watching for the time spent there. Mark Wahlberg's one coooooool cat in it.

Palace drew 2-2 with the Wolves yesterday. And I've never seen such an awful referee. But hey-ho, it's another point towards the midtable obscurity we've been longing for, for ages. But it's so friggin' boring, frustrating and downright naff. Certainly not the life that a Palace fan is used to, saying that, we were soon reminded that things could be worse....could be a West Ham fan.

Done and dusted...

Caught in a sticky patch

Here's a handy tip, when walking into your room and you have a glass bottle filled with liquid standing on your chest of drawers...don't walk into them and let the bottle fall off. I know it seems like common sense, but when the liquid falls onto laminate flooring and it spreads across the floor at a speed in comparison to Bishop running to the front of the queue for the Sugababes concert, as to get the best seat - it ain't a great idea. I now have a rather nice wet, sticky patch on my floor (there's a masturbation joke there somewhere, make it up yourself) and the rather sexy orange walls now have that 'damp' look to them. You know what that damp look is, you can't explain it - it just looks damp and messy. Hey-ho....

I've concluded that running is the key to your soul, spirit and all that razzmatazz. I've rediscovered my enthusiasm for it in the past week or so, completed 3 lots of 5k already with another run scheduled in after glorious Haskins tomorrow. Makes you feel good about yourself afterwards, in the process of getting fitter and you feel like you've achieved something at the end of it. My target's to run to the top of Highdown and back in the summer, I reckon I can do it, will need a bit more 'training' though. After Highdown? Perhaps a run to Worthing, the London Marathon is something I've always wanted to complete, and in a couple of years, why not? Maybe I'll win it without needing to have a piss and a shit in the street like Paula Radcliffe. Dirty bitch, go to the khazi before you start, darling!

My car washing skills are shocking, having spent a good half hour cleaning the 'Millermobile', I proceeded to throw all the dirty water from the bucket over it again. I wasn't thinking, I was terribly pissed off, so I kicked the neighbours cat. Metaphorically speaking of course, if I were to abuse a cat in any way I'd probably just pull it's tail and tease it. Come on, we've all thought about it....

David Pleat went further down in my estimation when watching Spurs shoot themselves in the foot in the UEFA Cup this evening. He's an awful commentator, I'd gladly pay for an assassin to take him out and spare me of the pain of listening to his "analysis" - one golden piece this evening was that "If that ball was on target rather than 3 yards wide, he may well have scored", no sh*t, David. And his commentator buddy on ITV, Peter Drury ain't much better either. In fact, ITV's football coverage as a whole is absolutely terrible. And they've bought the rights to England internationals and the FA Cup for crying out loud! Seems like the FA just wanted the most money, but are we at all surprised? ITV = Imbecilic Twattish Viewing.

The Easter holidays are nearly over, and Sharon is doing her best to buy up Sainsburys' supply of Creme Eggs. She's already surprised me twice and I fear that tomorrow she might surprise me again. But you can't turn down a Creme Egg, no matter how sickly they are after a while. Sharon's Nectar points must be mounting up, and it must be down to her impulse buying. Y'know when your mum comes home from the supermarket and has bought all this new 'crap' because "it was on offer", or "there were double points", I swear Sharon buys every offer going. No-one in this house likes Elderberry and Raspberry juice for crying out loud. "Oh, but it was on offer". Does my head in.

And one more thought...Rome sure wasn't hell built in a day. But it sure was destroyed in one! 7-1 to United and all they talk about it the crowd trouble. But hey, that's England for you. Concentrate on the crap bits and the good ones just seem that bit better when they come around.

Philosophy rocks!

Free-wheeling

As I've told you all along, Shefki Kuqi is the best thing since sliced bread. Everything I've said about him being a shite, overpriced waste of space was merely a figure of speech and I did of course mean that he could well be rivalling Cristiano Ronaldo for the World Footballer of the Year award at this rate. I am on such a Palace induced high after their 3-0 thumping of Preston today, and it could've been about 7-nil and it wouldn't have flattered us. Shefki "Pele" Kuqi grabbed a brace with Leon "Cannavaro" Cort thumping home a header in true Corty style. Shame it was in front of our lowest crowd of the season, but the 15-odd thousand (including about 27 Preston fans, all with their whippets, flat-caps and hotpot in a flask) that were there must have been impressed by Palace's performance. It blew me away that we could actually pass the ball forward rather than sideways, backwards or not at all.

Shame we've left it a little too late for the Playoffs, but hey. We still might need a new striker next season though. Perhaps we can fork out a few million for Rio Ferdinand; his clinical finish for Pompey today certainly caught my eye - did Edwin van der Sar "with the eyes" and slipped it the other way. You can't teach that.

I did a good deed on Tuesday. After a really enthralling 2 hour maths revision session, five of us decided to play golf. Big Tom and I went and got our golf rackets but when Kym arrived it turned out she had a flat tyre so I helped change it. I've changed too many tyres in my young life but the Littlehampton seafront didn't compare to doing it with my back to 70mph traffic on the M4. All in the aid of a 0-0 draw in Cardiff. Balls.

Played my second game for Chopper United on Thursday night, missed a sitter from 4 yards, open goal and I contrived to hit the crossbar. I did, however, win a penalty and score it - sending the goalie the wrong way - Yakubu styley. I also managed to get a guy sin-binned when he took me out after little old me, all 5ft 8, skin and bone shoulder charged him to the ground. We won 7-2. Magic. Top of the league, and certainly having a laugh...

Easter tomorrow and a day off from glorious Haskins after an arduous Good Friday. Busy as feck and everyone was buying shrubs. Shrubs. Fecking shrubs. Photinia this, Azalea that. And no, we don't sell fecking stamps.

Ahem....enjoy your chocolate tomorrow. And make sure to run it off, otherwise you'll just be adding to the problem of "Fat Britain" that the Daily Mail keeps harping on about.

Pigeon-hole this!

The weekly check of my pigeon-hole at college brought shock to my system. It was unsurprisingly littered with the normal bits of paper, memos that were about 3 days old saying I'd missed an appointment with my tutor or a weekly news which was telling me about the Year 7 homework and beekeeping clubs, but not both at the same time of course. Imagine doing your homework with one of those big white suits on trying to figure out the square root of 473, it'd be mental. But after I'd sifted through the other numerous pieces of crap that had probably been in the hole for as long as I can remember, one piece of paper told me that I need to remodel my next 3 months. The exam timetable had been delivered. 7 exams in the space of two weeks with ample gaps for revision in between. I was happy, starting with a gentle statistics exam on June 5th and finishing with the economics synoptic paper on the 19th in which I could be asked nearly anything about the economics of anything, anywhere in the world. Scary huh?

So I guess the revision needs to start in earnest now, building up slowly before the end of May where my life will be 100% trigonometry, fiscal policy and correlation momentarily and I'll become the most boring person on the planet for 2 or 3 weeks. My first blog ever detailed my revision plans for the January exams which seemed to pay off with a MAHOOSIVE improvement in my grades so I guess my room will again become a shrine to economics diagrams, maths equations and all sorts of other graphs. I won't be able to escape it.

Tomorrow's plans: Work at Fortress Haskins followed by an hour or two of C3 maths. Love it.

Last Thursday saw my debut for Chopper United and my first bit of proper competitive football, albeit 5-a-side for a while. After some abysmal finishing that would have made Shefki Kuqi's efforts yesterday in Palace's defeat to t'Wednesday look good - I finally managed to grab a goal in an easy 6-0 win which involved me being accused of elbowing someone in the face. What a load of crap, I got him in his chest.

Easter holidays are now finally here and as you can probably tell, revision is going to be the name of the game for much of it. However, I'm also doing a shedload of overtime at Haskins so I'm educating myself and earning money - I can't really complain. I'm sure various socialamanising events will come up at various points over the next couple of weeks which is something else to look forward to. Of course, there's the matter of gorging myself stupid on chocolate next Sunday and rotting my teeth beyond the point of repair. Gotta love the bible, gotta love Jesus for coming back from the dead. Where the feck did the chocolate idea come from though?!

A short blog, but as sweet as ever - I'm sure you'll agree...