One Hundred O’ Clock

I am currently trawling the internet for somewhere to go on my birthday next week. Sadly for me, its on a Friday this year which means it’s going to be very difficult to find a venue that wont be filled with Friday wankers. I don’t like people that drink on a Friday. Two of my worst comedy deaths (out of five) ever have happened on a Friday, this must mean that Friday people are bastards. You can argue that that is not a very logical or reasonable conclusion but I would argue that I don’t care what you say now go and wash your face. Hopefully, due to the poor timing of me getting older just after Christmas (as does everyone thanks to the continual process of time) it shouldn’t be too busy as everyone’s livers are already destroyed and moths have started to move into their wallets before end of January paychecks take residency once again.



Finding a venue is so much harder than it should be. I don’t have a nice local where I live. All my locals are filled with the type of residents that would fight me if I so much as looked at them. They’re the sort of people that would also fight me if I so much as looked at my shoes, my own hands, a book, or even just closed my eyes for the duration of being in there. They just look like fighty people. Looking at the wider base that is London you then have to find somewhere everyone can get home from, isn’t shit, doesn’t play music so loud you may as well all hang out while listening to your own i-pods, isn’t shit, doesn’t charge your life savings for booze and most importantly isn’t shit. So far I have found nowhere. I am considering telling everyone to stay at home with some beer and we’ll all just chat on facebook. At least I know I like my sofa, and I can have my stereo playing music I like at an appropriate level. I’ve just read that back and I am convinced I have become old.


Yesterday was a good first day of the year, having spent most of it at my girlfriend’s parent’s house eating a large amount of food. Quite a lot of Layla’s family were there, including her 4 year old nephew. I hate to run with that cliche of ‘don’t kids say the funniest things?’ but sometimes they really do. Angus (for that is his name) has a habit of saying quite imaginative things. Unfortunately he wasn’t completely on form as his parents had let him stay up till ‘one hundred o clock’ on New Years Eve. That’s later than I have ever stayed up, presuming that 100 o’clock is at least 4 days straight without sleep. He is like a mini-soldier, only one with a toy lightsaber instead of an actual weapon. Saying that, it does really hurt if he hits you with it.


Angus’s best comment of the last year fell on Christmas Day when his older sister ran upstairs to exclaim that the Queen was on telly. She wasn’t particularly excited about this, but like all 6 year olds, sometimes she just needs to tell people obvious things. Anyway, Angus’s golden response was ‘What? From the Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe?’ I wish I still lived in the sort of imaginative mind set where a queen must be the evil character in a fantasy story. Sadly she is instead an emotionless money sucking sack of institution. Here’s to hoping that in 2009 she will be defeated by a bunch of kids and a talking lion.

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