Yeah, yeah, yeah, I have been, once more, lapse in updating this thing.
I haven't done anything new, and that's why there hasn't been so much as a peep or a squeak from this tiny patch of the blogosphere. Don't worry though, there have been plenty of hangovers in between then and now, and plenty of utterances of 'Never again.'
Good stuff.
At the moment I am grappling with the advent of Halloween. That's new. Normally I don't give a shit about that, but when you go past two massive stores dedicated to one evening, then you get the sense it's a big deal. So, why the fuck not? Making a tit of myself has always been a by-product of my life, so I see no reason not to do so intentionally. Yes, I have an idea for a costume, and maybe you'll be lucky enough to see a pic of it. However, should any of you guess who it is, then geez, I owe you a beer.
Maybe not Dom, I know he'll get it straight away. Meh, fuck it, a beer and a Yao Ming statuette sounds good.
Other than that, I have no real news.
Oh, well, Marcus' parents are in town, so I have had to move into a different room. I actually prefer the new room.
I've been getting into NFL in a big way, too. That's kind of new. Actually, I should qualify that statement. I've been getting into the Houston Texans in a big way. I've always had a peripheral eye on NFL. Blame Dad for that. I've known enough to blag it and look like I know what I am doing, but fucking hell, when you are dropped into a culture that is 100% sports 100% of the time, motherfucker you best get wise.
But you know what? I've loved it. Sitting in a bar, or just sat on the sofa, having a beer and talking trash, it's... Well, it's fun. I will actually seek out a pub back home to watch it over Christmas and who the fuck knows, maybe I'll get in on a fantasy football league next year.
Maybe.
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
Wednesday, 22 September 2010
Post Pumpkins Progression
Every muscle in my body is tired. Every single bead of sweat is being felt. My eyes ache. My ears ring. My skin itches to rest. My head is still pounding. The alcohol I have drunk has yet to string me up, but I know it plans on it. The bus ride was a torturous one, all menace and no pay-off. I am experiencing the thirst usually reserved for the walk home after a night out - drinking so much yet never feeling quenched. I have a bit mark on my wrist that itches like a hooker's ladysatchel after a night on the beach and her customer was the Sandman.
Yet I cannot sleep. Shitting Christmas trees I want to sleep, but my mind will not let me. I think I overthought on the bus. I think that I have maybe overthought that. You see? I'd like to tell you what sparked it off, but I couldn't tell you without doubting it. It could anything from the fact I am tired, so tired from the day itself. The fact that I can say that I have seen one of my favouritestestest bands ever play some of my favourite songs, and now I wonder if I could say a similar thing again. Perhaps it was the fact that the bus driver was reading a fucking book while driving (I really wish I was kidding) and I pondered if I would make it off the bus through the normal exits and not through someone else's skull on the way to the windshield.
But I do know that there was a distinct smell from my hoodie, a tiny trace of a memory nestled in the combination of sweat, fabric softener, and that smell that clothes have when you haven't worn them in a while, taking on the odour of the clothes they sat next to, hung with, or just looked at. And that smell reminded me of being back at school.
Year 7 or 8 languages in those crappy wooden huts. The smell of my uniform, the freshness and newness. The innocence I guess. What happened to that kid? I know he's dead, that child hasn't been seen for a long time, but I do know there's a man in his place who looks an awful like him. Completely different attitude though. Much better hair, too.
So yeah, that's what the hell I've been over-analysing.
I doubt I'll go into Con Law this afternoon. I really, sincerely, most honestly, need to chill. Today was meant to be that day, but Democrats and Billy Corgan happened.
I need to detox, I think. No drinking for a while. I won't go out on Friday, won't go out on Saturday either. If I do go to this cook-out doo-dah I will think long and hard about what the journey there and back will take out of me. It is hard work riding the bus. Every single drop of energy can leave your body if you're not careful.
I will think long and hard, too, about what I want to do after this. 'Cos now I don't know anymore. I knew this wasn't going to be an easy career path and nor should it be. But at times like this, when I have no motivation to think in any manner that isn't completely self-centred and whiny, when I just don't want to get out of bed or see a time that I might want to, I just have to think if I can be bothered.
Ugh, go to bed.
Yet I cannot sleep. Shitting Christmas trees I want to sleep, but my mind will not let me. I think I overthought on the bus. I think that I have maybe overthought that. You see? I'd like to tell you what sparked it off, but I couldn't tell you without doubting it. It could anything from the fact I am tired, so tired from the day itself. The fact that I can say that I have seen one of my favouritestestest bands ever play some of my favourite songs, and now I wonder if I could say a similar thing again. Perhaps it was the fact that the bus driver was reading a fucking book while driving (I really wish I was kidding) and I pondered if I would make it off the bus through the normal exits and not through someone else's skull on the way to the windshield.
But I do know that there was a distinct smell from my hoodie, a tiny trace of a memory nestled in the combination of sweat, fabric softener, and that smell that clothes have when you haven't worn them in a while, taking on the odour of the clothes they sat next to, hung with, or just looked at. And that smell reminded me of being back at school.
Year 7 or 8 languages in those crappy wooden huts. The smell of my uniform, the freshness and newness. The innocence I guess. What happened to that kid? I know he's dead, that child hasn't been seen for a long time, but I do know there's a man in his place who looks an awful like him. Completely different attitude though. Much better hair, too.
So yeah, that's what the hell I've been over-analysing.
I doubt I'll go into Con Law this afternoon. I really, sincerely, most honestly, need to chill. Today was meant to be that day, but Democrats and Billy Corgan happened.
I need to detox, I think. No drinking for a while. I won't go out on Friday, won't go out on Saturday either. If I do go to this cook-out doo-dah I will think long and hard about what the journey there and back will take out of me. It is hard work riding the bus. Every single drop of energy can leave your body if you're not careful.
I will think long and hard, too, about what I want to do after this. 'Cos now I don't know anymore. I knew this wasn't going to be an easy career path and nor should it be. But at times like this, when I have no motivation to think in any manner that isn't completely self-centred and whiny, when I just don't want to get out of bed or see a time that I might want to, I just have to think if I can be bothered.
Ugh, go to bed.
Tuesday, 14 September 2010
Homesick?
People that I have met out here frequesntly ask me if I feel homesick.
'No,' I tell them, 'I feel friendsick.'
And I do. Don't get me wrong, I do miss parts of Plymouth, I miss mum and dad, Nicola and Toffee, but I've been to university. I know I can cope with being apart from them. This is just like that, but with an ocean between places.
But truly I am friendsick. I would really quite like to go to the pub quiz with Sumika, Zack and co. Have cup of tea in Paul's back garden. Pretend to be eating steak and chips with Steve. Going on an aimless walk with Stefan.
It makes it harder seeing them do stuff together. I missed Zack and Dhani's housewarming. That sucks. I have missed countless nights out. That sucks. I have missed, no doubt, the stupid trips to KFC and marathons of My Super Sweet 16. That really sucks.
But do I begrudge them that? Hell no. Do I wish I hadn't come out here? Definitely not.
I know the obvious flaw in that argument is that I am away from them at uni. Well yeah, but I have friends in Norwich and they have their friends where ever.
Ugh, fuck this mood. I need to eat crap now.
'No,' I tell them, 'I feel friendsick.'
And I do. Don't get me wrong, I do miss parts of Plymouth, I miss mum and dad, Nicola and Toffee, but I've been to university. I know I can cope with being apart from them. This is just like that, but with an ocean between places.
But truly I am friendsick. I would really quite like to go to the pub quiz with Sumika, Zack and co. Have cup of tea in Paul's back garden. Pretend to be eating steak and chips with Steve. Going on an aimless walk with Stefan.
It makes it harder seeing them do stuff together. I missed Zack and Dhani's housewarming. That sucks. I have missed countless nights out. That sucks. I have missed, no doubt, the stupid trips to KFC and marathons of My Super Sweet 16. That really sucks.
But do I begrudge them that? Hell no. Do I wish I hadn't come out here? Definitely not.
I know the obvious flaw in that argument is that I am away from them at uni. Well yeah, but I have friends in Norwich and they have their friends where ever.
Ugh, fuck this mood. I need to eat crap now.
Monday, 13 September 2010
9 days without a post, how did you manage?
Well, I guess I owe you an apology.
Sorry.
There.
Look, I've been busy doing stuff. Class takes up some time if we throw in the amount of time it takes to get there and back on the bus, and the studying I do at home, and the shit done downtown. So there's most of my day gone, really.
Plus, I have been socialising a bit. On Friday I went to a trivia night hosted by one of the fraternities. It was at a pub in Midtown and yes, I got smashed. The hangover took up Saturday morning, and the rest of the day was, of course, spent drinking some more, watching college ball and doing nothing. Oh yeah, Marcus held a dinner party type thing. Well, he had some friends round (I was the youngest person by about 20 years) and cooked a massive dish of paella. It was tasty and so was the copious amounts of wine being consumed.
Thursday we went to another baseball game. Must stop doing that. It was Kayleigh's first time, so I guess it was alright. But no, the game is still shit.
Oh, Sunday was full of NFL and drinking. I do like that game, it's actually pretty exciting.
Um, look, I dunno how much effort I feel like expending on my blog. I haven't really had anything exciting to write about. I have a routine and it's not likely to change for a while.
Yes, I have a birthday coming up that may change all that, but what time do I have? How can I go anywhere not a bus route? People have been asking me if I have been making friends. What am I? A fuckin' 5 year old starting school? What do you expect me to say? Of course I've been making friends, but I hesitate to use that word. I have made acquaintances. I have gone drinking and met people who are in my classes and then I talk to them. I have people's numbers, added them on Facebook, made plans. What do you expect me to say? 'No, I am a lonely fuck'?
Ugh, sorry, but it frustrates me. It's such a dumb question.
I don't like talking about myself. I seriously hate it. I also hate being asked to tell someone how I feel and what has happened. If I have anything to tell, I will tell it when the occasion arises. If I have cause to say how the people are, who I made friends with, where I went, what is so 'craaaaaazy' about Texas, I will say it. Just don't ask me outright. Just don't. Makes me feel like a tourist, and I never want to be a tourist. Hence why there are no photos. I don't take them, because I want to see the world through my own eyes and not through a lense. If that isn't good enough, then I am terribly sorry that you feel that way. Yes, I get it, people want a record of what they have done, where they have been, but that's not. If I've done it, I've done it.
Man, I sound like a cunt.
On the upside, I have been getting mail from mother, so that's a bonus.
Sorry.
There.
Look, I've been busy doing stuff. Class takes up some time if we throw in the amount of time it takes to get there and back on the bus, and the studying I do at home, and the shit done downtown. So there's most of my day gone, really.
Plus, I have been socialising a bit. On Friday I went to a trivia night hosted by one of the fraternities. It was at a pub in Midtown and yes, I got smashed. The hangover took up Saturday morning, and the rest of the day was, of course, spent drinking some more, watching college ball and doing nothing. Oh yeah, Marcus held a dinner party type thing. Well, he had some friends round (I was the youngest person by about 20 years) and cooked a massive dish of paella. It was tasty and so was the copious amounts of wine being consumed.
Thursday we went to another baseball game. Must stop doing that. It was Kayleigh's first time, so I guess it was alright. But no, the game is still shit.
Oh, Sunday was full of NFL and drinking. I do like that game, it's actually pretty exciting.
Um, look, I dunno how much effort I feel like expending on my blog. I haven't really had anything exciting to write about. I have a routine and it's not likely to change for a while.
Yes, I have a birthday coming up that may change all that, but what time do I have? How can I go anywhere not a bus route? People have been asking me if I have been making friends. What am I? A fuckin' 5 year old starting school? What do you expect me to say? Of course I've been making friends, but I hesitate to use that word. I have made acquaintances. I have gone drinking and met people who are in my classes and then I talk to them. I have people's numbers, added them on Facebook, made plans. What do you expect me to say? 'No, I am a lonely fuck'?
Ugh, sorry, but it frustrates me. It's such a dumb question.
I don't like talking about myself. I seriously hate it. I also hate being asked to tell someone how I feel and what has happened. If I have anything to tell, I will tell it when the occasion arises. If I have cause to say how the people are, who I made friends with, where I went, what is so 'craaaaaazy' about Texas, I will say it. Just don't ask me outright. Just don't. Makes me feel like a tourist, and I never want to be a tourist. Hence why there are no photos. I don't take them, because I want to see the world through my own eyes and not through a lense. If that isn't good enough, then I am terribly sorry that you feel that way. Yes, I get it, people want a record of what they have done, where they have been, but that's not. If I've done it, I've done it.
Man, I sound like a cunt.
On the upside, I have been getting mail from mother, so that's a bonus.
Saturday, 4 September 2010
Fuckin' alcohol, how does that work?
It works well, dammit.
This week was good. I liked it. Not much happened class wise, and Ngoni and I went to another baseball game ('cos we didn't learn our lesson the first time). No, dear gentle reader, this week was good for the sheer amount of alcohol swimming through my veins.
You see, the Democrat Society are a great group of people. On Thursday they invited me to a bar Downtown called Charbar. Of course I went. It's a great way to meet people, and fuck, the girl's are hawt.
It was a good shout.
For some reason, and one I will never challenge, everything was paid for. At least for me it was. Ngoni had to pay for shit. Other people were paying for shit. But not me. I think we both know I abused this. How much I drank is irrelevant.
It's quite astonishing how small the bar is, yet managed to encompass all of us. I can't put into words the fun I had. Talking to everyone, just meeting people and discovering which of my classes they were in. I doubt I'll go a day at school without seeing someone from that night.
So, whatever time we left (I have a feeling it was about 2, maybe 3) Ngoni and I split a cab to his place. Fuck am I getting a cab back to mine. I crash on his futon and wake up knowing I'll have to face a class.
I kinda wanted to go to class, but I just felt so rough. The bus ride back home was broken up by visiting a few shops. I went into Marshall's and Old Navy by the Galleria, got another bus, stopped into Academy (a huge fuck off sports and outdoor store), went into Boston Market and had an amazing chicken sandwich, then finally got on another bus.
I knew that there was to be a social hour on Friday. The fliers for it were all over the college. I just didn't know if I was going to go. First, getting there would be a bitch. Second, HOW THE FUCK WOULD I GET BACK?! Third, I had just tied one on.
But, I went. You know that feeling where you feel like you missed out? That you could've had the best night of your life? The feeling that eats at you and makes you feel moody?
Well, that feeling I didn't want to have.
The bus ride in was a bitch, requiring three separate buses, some waiting around and a whole lot of avoiding eye contact, I arrive at Rebel's.
It's a country bar. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but let's face it, I'm a geeky white boy. This ain't my scene. Fuck it, let's do this scene.
Ngoni was already there. He was the fuck who persuaded me to go, so I expect him to show up. He had a beer waiting for me, which was nice. So, we spoke to people we already knew from around the school. And kept talking, drinking, meeting people, recognizing faces, drinking, talking, drinking, etc.
I do not recall at what point the music became intensely country, but I do know that, beyond my own belief, I liked it. I know, I was shocked too. Now, let me qualify that statement. I don't love country, I certainly won't be buying any albums, nor downloading anything, and fuck off will I go to a country concert. But I can dig it in the context of a night out. When in Rome, right?
The dance floor ebbed and flowed with the dances that EVERYONE knows. I can't dance. I am not getting on that dancefloor. Then the linedancing happened.
OK, I linedanced. Just once, I swear. Obviously I was awful, but the blatantly gay guy (who was in denial) insisted I do it. He was in my personal zone far too often all night. Hey, buddy, you're a nice guy an' all, but you are making far too much bodily contact. Unless you are a lady I do not want this contact. No sir, not today, no way, no how.
The night wa--
Sorry, I've just come back from the cinema. The American is a damn fine film. Watch it. Watch it now.
Anyway, the night was good. I dunno where I was going with that.
College football is on. I am not invested in who wins.
This week was good. I liked it. Not much happened class wise, and Ngoni and I went to another baseball game ('cos we didn't learn our lesson the first time). No, dear gentle reader, this week was good for the sheer amount of alcohol swimming through my veins.
You see, the Democrat Society are a great group of people. On Thursday they invited me to a bar Downtown called Charbar. Of course I went. It's a great way to meet people, and fuck, the girl's are hawt.
It was a good shout.
For some reason, and one I will never challenge, everything was paid for. At least for me it was. Ngoni had to pay for shit. Other people were paying for shit. But not me. I think we both know I abused this. How much I drank is irrelevant.
It's quite astonishing how small the bar is, yet managed to encompass all of us. I can't put into words the fun I had. Talking to everyone, just meeting people and discovering which of my classes they were in. I doubt I'll go a day at school without seeing someone from that night.
So, whatever time we left (I have a feeling it was about 2, maybe 3) Ngoni and I split a cab to his place. Fuck am I getting a cab back to mine. I crash on his futon and wake up knowing I'll have to face a class.
I kinda wanted to go to class, but I just felt so rough. The bus ride back home was broken up by visiting a few shops. I went into Marshall's and Old Navy by the Galleria, got another bus, stopped into Academy (a huge fuck off sports and outdoor store), went into Boston Market and had an amazing chicken sandwich, then finally got on another bus.
I knew that there was to be a social hour on Friday. The fliers for it were all over the college. I just didn't know if I was going to go. First, getting there would be a bitch. Second, HOW THE FUCK WOULD I GET BACK?! Third, I had just tied one on.
But, I went. You know that feeling where you feel like you missed out? That you could've had the best night of your life? The feeling that eats at you and makes you feel moody?
Well, that feeling I didn't want to have.
The bus ride in was a bitch, requiring three separate buses, some waiting around and a whole lot of avoiding eye contact, I arrive at Rebel's.
It's a country bar. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but let's face it, I'm a geeky white boy. This ain't my scene. Fuck it, let's do this scene.
Ngoni was already there. He was the fuck who persuaded me to go, so I expect him to show up. He had a beer waiting for me, which was nice. So, we spoke to people we already knew from around the school. And kept talking, drinking, meeting people, recognizing faces, drinking, talking, drinking, etc.
I do not recall at what point the music became intensely country, but I do know that, beyond my own belief, I liked it. I know, I was shocked too. Now, let me qualify that statement. I don't love country, I certainly won't be buying any albums, nor downloading anything, and fuck off will I go to a country concert. But I can dig it in the context of a night out. When in Rome, right?
The dance floor ebbed and flowed with the dances that EVERYONE knows. I can't dance. I am not getting on that dancefloor. Then the linedancing happened.
OK, I linedanced. Just once, I swear. Obviously I was awful, but the blatantly gay guy (who was in denial) insisted I do it. He was in my personal zone far too often all night. Hey, buddy, you're a nice guy an' all, but you are making far too much bodily contact. Unless you are a lady I do not want this contact. No sir, not today, no way, no how.
The night wa--
Sorry, I've just come back from the cinema. The American is a damn fine film. Watch it. Watch it now.
Anyway, the night was good. I dunno where I was going with that.
College football is on. I am not invested in who wins.
Sunday, 29 August 2010
Sunday, Sunday here again, tidy attire
The weekend makes me feel a bit restless. In theory, I could go anywhere I damn well please, but let's face facts. I'm restricted to the bus routes, and thus, the amount of time I am willing to suffer in order to get to where I want to go. Also, I'm a lazy fucker, so by the time I get out of bed, have a shower, get dressed and eat a Pop Tart or two, it's gone 12:30. That limits the times of stuff I could do things.
Downtown is doable within those parameters, but then, why do I want to go to place I go four days anyway? If there was anything there I would know about it and probably have seen it or been there already. Or made plans to do it.
The Galleria, while a nice mall, is expensive. And really doesn't have that many shops that I'm interested in. OK, the Lego shop is badass, but the lack of any visible prices isn't inspiring for my budget.
West Oaks Mall is 30 minutes by bus at the end of Westheimer, but I really can't see myself going there. I'll probably check it out at some point, but for the moment, there's not much (judging from the website, at least) to interest me.
Everywhere else requires getting on a different bus. And that requires planning and details. It hardly leaves the way open for adventure. I'm not necessarily pining to discover a cool/quirky/fruity/bitchin' shop or restaurant (and certainly not a bar before the 18th), but it would be nice to just check shit out. But then, I'm a lazy fuck.
Honestly, I don't need to buy anything. I guess I could do with some more pairs of shorts, a couple more shirts and a few more pairs of boxers* wouldn't go amiss, but what do I sincerely need? That's the question.
And out here, it's very easy to get 'need' and 'want' confused. My MP3 - while old and prone to crashing - does the job. Yet, I 'need' a new one. (That said, the current range of MP3 players are pretty hit and miss. Maybe the Zune would be the best choice, but why in the name of Kunte Kinte would you not have a dedicated volume button?)
It's the same thing with my phone. It's perfectly alright and works like a charm over here. Yet, I 'need' an Adroid smartphone. Well, no I don't. I just want one. It makes no sense to get one out here, it'll have to be a UK purchase. But then it'd be more expensive and taxed like a motherfucker.
Since I am a whore for DVDs, I had a semi-complete list written out in my head of DVDs I wanted to pick up. Spaced, for example, has a pretty sweet selection of commentaries on the R1 release. Oh, and pick up a bunch of volumes of MST3K, too. Yet, confronted on Amazon with these items I still look for the cheaper prices, only to find there are none. And the prices are pretty high. It seems that sales on that kind of item are just not happening. Dammit.
Still, I did pick up Better Off Ted season 1. Should be arriving any day soon now, so I will bask in that glory.
It's coming up to 1pm, I'm still in bed, need a shower, have work to do and no big ideas. If I am quick enough I could check out a KFC...
*Boxers out here are fucked up. It seems the most popular type of pants is the boxer brief. I'd hate to piss on anyone's cornflakes, but I will never wear boxer briefs. They do nothing to make my junk look appealing. Upon finding a cheap pair of proper boxers, I can guarantee that they won't have any buttons. Just a flap. I don't care for my penis escaping from the cosy ensconcement of my pants, thank you very much. Digging about for boxers that DO have buttons reveals that buttons out here must cost the fucking eart. $8-10 for a pack of three boxers with buttons compared to four or five pairs for $5. Oh and socks? Fucking hell, when did men's socks be confined to 'BLACK' and 'WHITE'. I pine for Primark.
Saturday, 28 August 2010
Week Dos Equis
Bars around STCL are surprisingly lax in their ID policies.
"Hey, can I open a tab?"
"Yeah, sure!'
"Sweeeeeeeet."
The weekend is here and it means that I give another wrap up. This is probably how it's going to go from now on. I don't really have too much time during the week to put my thoughts together in a cogent manner, if they ever were cogent. Tuesdays (being my only free weekday - henceforth dubbed 'Midweek Friday') might yield a blog post if I find anything sufficiently interesting to talk about.
So, last weekend was pretty killer. Saw Piranha 3D at a multiplex. A cinema is a cinema, I guess, and there's a few minor differences. This one had the box office actually outside the building in a separate booth. Great idea - sweat while in line and feel the need to buy drinks. Sneaky fuckers.
A word on Piranha 3D - FUCKYEAH!
Wait, I've said that.
Saturday also saw the purchase of a Houston Astros baseball shirt. I do look like a massive twat in it.
On Sunday I made the silly choice of walking as far up on Westheimer as I could before getting murdered by sweat. However, Whataburger made up for all that. Best burger beer and pizza evenever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. So fucking good.
So, Monday was Monday. Get up at 9, get the bus at 10:10, get into STCL at 11:20 (sigh), do Con Law, go find some food (Quiznos), eat said food, go back to STCL, do Legislation, get the bus at like 5:20pm, get home at around 7pm (sigh).
Quiznos Subs is Subway with a bowl. As in, they put your sandwich in a bowl so the filling doesn't go everywhere. As for the food, Subway is better. By a million times.
Tuesday saw STCL do a beer and pizza evening. So obviously I took advantage of that. I can't tell you how many or even which societies I joined, but my name went down on a lot of lists. Plus, I met a ton of people, but damned if I can remember their names. It was fun. After that, me and Ngoni checked out a few bars in the surrounding area. My word they are nice. And cheap(ish). And don't care about my lack of ID. Oh dear.
Wednesday through to Friday was uneventful. Nowt much happened. I had a Taco Bell at some point (and wished I hadn't), had a Sonic meal (and wished I hadn't) and went to a bar with Kayleigh (who was in awe that we could get served, bless).
Anyway, I need to brush up on my American football. I really am enjoying that game more than I remembered.
HOODAT!
"Hey, can I open a tab?"
"Yeah, sure!'
"Sweeeeeeeet."
The weekend is here and it means that I give another wrap up. This is probably how it's going to go from now on. I don't really have too much time during the week to put my thoughts together in a cogent manner, if they ever were cogent. Tuesdays (being my only free weekday - henceforth dubbed 'Midweek Friday') might yield a blog post if I find anything sufficiently interesting to talk about.
So, last weekend was pretty killer. Saw Piranha 3D at a multiplex. A cinema is a cinema, I guess, and there's a few minor differences. This one had the box office actually outside the building in a separate booth. Great idea - sweat while in line and feel the need to buy drinks. Sneaky fuckers.
A word on Piranha 3D - FUCKYEAH!
Wait, I've said that.
Saturday also saw the purchase of a Houston Astros baseball shirt. I do look like a massive twat in it.
On Sunday I made the silly choice of walking as far up on Westheimer as I could before getting murdered by sweat. However, Whataburger made up for all that. Best burger beer and pizza evenever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. So fucking good.
So, Monday was Monday. Get up at 9, get the bus at 10:10, get into STCL at 11:20 (sigh), do Con Law, go find some food (Quiznos), eat said food, go back to STCL, do Legislation, get the bus at like 5:20pm, get home at around 7pm (sigh).
Quiznos Subs is Subway with a bowl. As in, they put your sandwich in a bowl so the filling doesn't go everywhere. As for the food, Subway is better. By a million times.
Tuesday saw STCL do a beer and pizza evening. So obviously I took advantage of that. I can't tell you how many or even which societies I joined, but my name went down on a lot of lists. Plus, I met a ton of people, but damned if I can remember their names. It was fun. After that, me and Ngoni checked out a few bars in the surrounding area. My word they are nice. And cheap(ish). And don't care about my lack of ID. Oh dear.
Wednesday through to Friday was uneventful. Nowt much happened. I had a Taco Bell at some point (and wished I hadn't), had a Sonic meal (and wished I hadn't) and went to a bar with Kayleigh (who was in awe that we could get served, bless).
Anyway, I need to brush up on my American football. I really am enjoying that game more than I remembered.
HOODAT!
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