Monday 16 April 2012

Packing

Yes this is an entire blog entry about packing. Packing should not be considered a chore. Oh no siree! It should be considered an art form or possibly an Olympic sport. I wonder if it's possible for it to be entered into 2012 at this late stage?

So why am I so passionate about packing? I think it's something to do with my minor OCD problem. I love bringing order to where chaos reigns. I literally can not watch anyone else pack without wanting to physically shove them out of the way and do it myself. Why I hear you ask? Because you're doing it wrong!

Packing, as I said earlier l, is an art form and should be treated with respect. Anyone who just starts throwing clothes randomly into a bag should be hung, drawn and quartered! There is nothing more satisfying then making things fit logically and systematically into a suitcase.

So what's considered 'good form' in terms of packing. Well there are two trains of thought. The iron it and fold it neatly into the bag or the roll it technique. The first technique is self explanatory and time consuming. I consider it the traditional form of packing. The roll it technique is essentially roll all those bad boy clothes! Apparently this technique is meant to create less creases. Apparently I'm not very good at it. As whenever I try the roll technique my clothes resemble a crumpled mess!

So next time you're going somewhere consider your packing technique! I'm serious. As if you don't I'll go all hulk on you and pack that bag for you! You won't like me when I'm angry...

Till next time blog world.


Tuesday 27 March 2012

Man Down!

About how I was stating there is a spring in my step. Well it is still there, but now there is just a thorn in my side. That thorn comes in the guise of Man Flu.

Man Flu, mans worst enemy since Kane and Abel went at it, yes that’s right I’m saying Man flu is worse than murder. Well OK I admit it, it isn’t. This is what inspired to write about man flu. What is it with Man flu? Why do we (Men) feel so hard done by when he have flu? Why do we feel the need to call it man flu? Why do we even consider it more deadly than...I don’t know…than the Ebola virus?

So here I am sat in work feeling sorry for myself because I basically have a body that aches, a runny nose, sneezing, a sore head and a cough. I mean I can’t be that bad as I’ve gotten up and dragged myself into work and yet I feel the need to whinge about being here and that I’m practically dying despite the fact the evidence says the contrary.

Now I’m no psychologist and if you ever here me utter those words stating that I am you have my permission to call me a bare face liar and report me to the psychologist police. But just maybe, just maybe, we men like to moan/whinge about man flu because we can’t whinge about giving birth and all the other aches and pains women go through. Now I know some men reading this might think I’ve gone all feminist on them and to an extent they’re right. I don’t mind admitting the fact I don’t have to go through giving birth, why any man would? That’s their (Women’s) bag to shoulder and they are welcome to it. If this is the worst it gets for men, I’ll take this anytime. I mean have you seen those TV shows were it shows women giving birth? They don’t exactly look like they’re having a freaking ball!

So basically what I’m saying is that there are far worse ailments out there, not that I’m calling child birth an ailment, but essentially we men need to Man the F*ck Up (MTFU). So on that note I’m going to MTFU with Lemsip, yeah that’s right,I’m cheating but it’ll stop me whinging.

Till next time blog world….

Thursday 22 March 2012

Dates: An idiots guide

Dates, not as in on this date in 312 AD the Romans left Britain (If that is actually correct I've amazed myself), but dates as in romance, awkwardness, the sly glances across the table or the gentle brush of fingers. That type of date, you with me?
I would never consider myself a coniseur of the date world. I can probably still count the amount of women I've been on dates with on one hand. Now don't think that means I'm some kind of 'Ugo' with a large over bite and a mono brow. Oh no dear reader, I consider myself a handsome chap and it has been confirmed on a few occasions that this is the case. Admittedly all cases involved alcohol and it was dark so they couldn't see my hair. Anyway I digress. So why so few dates? Well I just don't like forcing things. Things should come together naturally and easily. I admit the last date I went on I asked the pretty lady if she did indeed want to go on a date but we kind of were already on a date. I'd love to go into details but some things should remain between two people so you'll have to trust me on this. Anyway the so few dates is due to letting things come naturally together and before you say it no its not lazyness. So onto the the actual guide (wriiten by an idiot):
1. Don't over think things.
Don't fret about what place to go, what to eat. Use the mantra of winging it and everything should fall into place.
2. Choose the Datee (Is that a word I just made up?) wisely.
Don't go asking everyone and anyone. The Dresden tactic (Sorry Germans) is not an efficient tactic. If you're going to ask someone out on a date make sure that they fit at least some of your criterias of your perfect partner. But If you're that hung up about not getting any action ensure they are at above a 5 out of 10 in the looks department. Sheesh, theres no need to tortue yourself.
3. Don't hold back.
If the dates going well make sure that you say it. Don't hold back feelings just say what you're thinking. I admit that you shouldn't really spout out 'have my babies' on the first date. I'd wait till at least six months into the relationship. Jesus.
4. Be yourself.
Relax. Be yourself. If you're dates turned up its a good sign that they may like the person you are. If you're comfotable within yourself you're datee (that word again) will be comfortable.
5. Have fun.
Run round at all times like an idiot. Seriously, if thats how you get your kicks then do it. Although try not to do it with a traffic cone on your head.
So there you have it. A simple five step plan to successful dating. Treat it like the AA twelve step plan and you'll be hunky dory. It works I can assure you. It was successful for me last night. Well I say successful I mean Epic. Epic Date nights are the future. I've seen it, tasted it.
So if you want an Epic date get yourself out in the East End of London with a beautiful lady in tow and wing it. You never know you may just end up drinking Champagne and smoking cigars all night.
Till next time blog world...

Wednesday 21 March 2012

It's freaking Spring!

Hello from the train...again.

It's spring folks and I don't care what a certain Groundhog says, it's here, it's queer and it's here to stay.

Anyway, to update my one reader on my bucket list before I'm 30.

Imagine this. Open window, said bucket list flying out of open window in the shape of paper plane.

Why! I hear you all screaming. Well why not? I've gone with my traditional approach to life, winging it! My tombstone would read "Here lies Iain Pye, he winged it a lot". Lists aren't for me and it was written at a time when I was down and out. I mean don't get me wrong I've done some of the things on the list. It's not as if I have an absolute loathing for lists. The bucket list at the time did help me focus, get to places and things that needed doing. For that I am truly grateful for the list and it's co-writers.

If it wasn't for this list I would not have jabbed posh people with a pointy end of a sharp stick and thoroughly enjoyed it. Despite my instructor telling me I have terrible form.

I also wouldn't be going on a two week RV cruise through America with two good friends that I haven't seen in a while.

So to return to my original comment about Spring. Why am I so freaking happy about it? Well Spring means new horizons and that's how I feel at the moment. It's Spring and there is spring in my step. I admit that I'm not exactly going to burst into song at any given moment but I feel like I could.

Whilst on the subject of bursting into spontaneous singing, why don't people do that more often? Surely the world would be a better place for it?

The prospect of turning 30 is no longer daunting for me. If anything it's like Spring. Come on 30 show me what you've got and bring a merry tune.

So if you excuse me I'm off to hum a tune with a spring in my step.

Till next time blog world...

Sunday 8 January 2012

To do List

Afternoon Blog world,

I am currently sat in my very drab flat watching the City-United Game (Good game so far) and thinking about my to do list. Today's include get hair cut and buy vegetable steamer. Exciting I know.

However due to recent events, i.e. me becoming single after about a billion years, I was written a to do list by my friends with one thing to do a month before I'm 30. So the list currently looks like this:

January

Try Fencing: Yes its a new year and a new start so why not try something I've never done before. Admittedly my thoughts of fencing have slightly been skewed by the Three Musketeers and the that James Bond film where they start hacking at each other broad swords. I'm guessing that this may not be the case.

February

Learn to drive. Yes I'm nearly that dreaded age of 30 and I can't drive. Sad I know but I've never needed too. I do now apparently...

March

Speed Dating. Sheesh. Not my idea that one but don't mock it until you've done it. Expect a mocking blog.

April

Horse Riding. Never done this either. I've ridden a camel, does that count?

May

Skiing. The prospect of strapping to planks of wood to my feet and throwing myself down an icy hill has never really appealed to me. However I'm told its fun and I should do it.

June

Travel for two weeks. This one I'm looking forward to. I've never travelled by myself before and the prospect of setting my own itinerary (or not), going at my own speed and not looking at random crap the people are selling is an exciting one.

July

Windsurfing. Why not?

August.

Run the Ol' Prestonia Guild Marathon. Yes I'm a sucker for pain and I enjoy running so why the hell not before I'm 30.

Pass Driving test. Self explanatory really.

Quad Biking. Because breaking myself just before I turn 30 is a fun prospect.

Turn 30. Cry.

Not a bad list all in all, a slightly expensive one as well. But hey you're only young once and I have the world at my feet so why the hell not.

Till next time Blog world.

Thursday 18 August 2011

Thinning new horizons

Err..hello it been a while, some might say its been to long. I would beg to differ. I've been a busy man what can I say.

Now I'm actually writing this on the train from Londinium to Ol' Prestonia (Please note Prestonia has nothing to do with Roman Britain, trust me on this one). I'm more writing this to starve off boredom. Admittedly I have Net book full of films and a rather good book, but I must say neither at the moment intrigues me at all.

Anyway to catch you all up, I say all...what I actually mean is you DB (yes you). Work has done its thing of taking up most of my time, what with random japes to random high seas and random countries. None of them that interesting I can assure you. Seriously there is nothing to do in Salalah (Again trust me on this one) and Boosaaso is not as scenic as I pictured it (Then again who would?).

Not only that my 29th Birthday has crept up ridiculously fast. I mean so fast an person would see it and confirm that it was ridiculously fast and then return to their own toilings. So here I am fretting that I'm almost 30. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. What have I done with my life, in fact why are their several chunks missing (Mostly alcohol related, and general forgetfulness)? Not only that I'm thinning. Some people would say that is a blessing given that I have Afghan Sunset (Ginger) coloured hair. I intend to disagree. For starters due to the fact that I generally have my hair short-ish and well trimmed (There was once a rebellious moment of my life were I tried to grow it...it didn't turn out well) so the thinning is quiet obvious. Now some may say 'oh, how very vain of you' and would be inclined to agree, but this not happening to you and I would also flick you the V's and insist that you stop stating these horrible things about me, how very bloody rude of you.

Of course at the ripe old age of 29 it is the time when many people choose to marry. As to that end two my very close friends have taken themselves down the isle. Of course them being a good friends both chose me to be best man. A captain goes down with the ship and in this case so does the kitchen hand. Both were joyous and wonderful events, the latest one being one of those black hole moments (Why do people insist on buying you beer when you have to be sensible for once?), but the problem I have with being best man is the best man speech. I'm not one for public speaking, sure I brief at work but that's work. I mean come on who takes work seriously? Generally the speech has to be funny, thankfully both my friends have both been drunk in front of me, but that's what gets me. What if I'm not funny? What if I make a joke about a monkey and someones half niece-cousin (Do they exist? Maybe in Norfolk.) is in fact a monkey, weird I know but you never know. So you play it safe with the speech and to be honest everyone said it was great (Both times) but I always think, it could be funnier!

Next time I'll tell you the one about the monkey...till next time (possibly in about 6 months).

P.S I'm not actually on the train now, that was at least two days ago.

Saturday 5 March 2011

Boredom, also known as lazyness

Boredom. Its a funny old thing. Its Saturday afternoon and I should be out enjoying myself. Instead I'm sat here on the couch whilst the 'Better Half' is revising at in the Dining room with the tones of Classic FM and random comments coming from that part of the house.

The Mad Ferret
Anyway to get things back on track. I think the main reason why I'm so bored is due to the fact I'm slightly hungover. Going out for a meal with a bunch of giggling 19 year old girls who also speak in tones that possibly only dogs can hear will drive a man to drink. Now instead of getting rid of the boredom/hangover by going out for a run I find myself sat here what can only described as self loathing. Self loathing has lead to me search the internet to try and keep the boredom at bay, yet hasn't really come up trumps. It has howver revealed the name of a band I saw last night, The Wooden Sky, at the Mad Ferret. A nice Canadian band that in my hazy drunkard mind I likened to a cross between The Strokes and The Black Keys. Although in the clear light of day this may not be the case. I believe a listen to them on Youtube is in order.

Right in order the quell this boredom I shall remove myself from said couch and do something productive. Its just deciding on what to do is the hard part. Till next time Blog world...