No Rest For Da Wicked

Well well well as Laura says ‘There’s
no sleeping on an empty chest of gold’ and that’s the rule that i’ve
been living by for the past 2 days…I arrived back in Grenoble after a
tiring day on trains (oh my god Eurostar First Class from Firenze to
Milano was the absolute bomb-diggy and just do it) but also in a
cattle-truck style piece of shit French train whatever) and went oot
into town, had a couple of beers (first for like 1 week) and nearly
fell asleep…saw Mariatzell who was battered (good start) and she was
going out on a big one which pretty much sealed my fate of going
home…EXCEPT…

When I got home (on the first day) i had no electricity and couldn’t
buy any until the day after so i had to stay at Joss’s that
night…ouch…slept really badly on the floor on my shoulder and was
nearly paralysed(sp?) the next day…oh well. So yesterday i was so
busy doing stuff like picking up 2 week old biscuits off my floor and
buying stupid fucking electricity tokens and by midday i needed to sit
and chill so caf�s called….

Last night then continued in an enourmous houseparty double-header
which was brilliant, the first a small affair with good friends and
cheesy 90s music, the second a big house and lots of wasted
stoners…always value for money. I woke up at 1pm, watched the Chelsea
match (joss nearly cried) and then caf�d it again until now…and WORK
tonight for the first time in ages. It’s not so bad. A bit of cash.

Oh shit yeah and I have to do my second essay for Warwick which is a
bit of a downer…for next Friday. I have told myself i will do it
tomorrow and i do seem to be in a motivated mood (i bought a text
yesterday for one of NEXT YEAR’S courses – shit!) so maybe it’ll
happen. Maybe not.

Does anyone know why Al-Faed isn’t allowed British citizenship?

Flintoff – Gossip. On the message board. ASAP.

Wank – I just found a frozen 1.5litre bottle of coke in the freezer from yesterday. wank.

Uptown

Yo so i wrote a big ass update on Easter day, and just
as i finished it the computer froze and i lost it so i got pissed off
and just went out…
So what did i write? Did i mention that Thomas
just left yesterday or the day before (the day before) after spending a
few days here. I think he had an ok time (i think the life here must
look good to anyone doing final year university exams). I spent Easter
day with Mariatzell which was really nice, and then last night me and
Joss and George the whining irish went to this girl Coolia’s house
which was (George: Savage!) mental. We had fondue which was really
nice, then played drinking games for about 2 hours (with my new Manga
playing cards which rock the house) before going to the old familiar
Vieux Manoir for some continuing alcohol consumption
activities…Monster.

Whilst playing ‘I have never’ I’ve learned a lot about some of the people here. Examples:
- One chick has pulled one of her sisters.
- One guy had sex in an airplane toilet.
- The French like sodomy.

Good Morning

It’s 2.30pm and I just woke up. Oh my god what a
crazy night last night was. First of all I went to Elisa the psycho
Mexican’s house for a party…there weren’t many people there
(unfortunately it was the whole crowd who I had kissed and had now
banded together in an unholy alliance against me) but it was ok fun
(until one of the girls, a real nutbar, decided to start crying because
she wanted to kiss me (which I didn’t want to do or I would have)).
ANYWAY
so after this incident I made a pretty sharp exit and went to Notre
Dame for a bit – it was nice and busy and I jumped behind the counter
and put a few songs on (someone had to save Meghan – she was just
overwhelmed by the complexity of music and drinks in parallel (only
kidding M!!!)) before chatting with a smashing Swedish girl for about
half an hour (who’s actually Dutch) and dancing with the crew (Z, E and
T).

WELL usually the night would end there but NO!!! because the Empress
Shiv was there….She looked at me and Joss with her eyes of swirling
complexity and spoke unto us, instructing us to go swiftly to that den
of despicability known as Vieux Manoir…The nightclub from Hell…..

So we set off to the club, but first George the whining, bar pissing
Irish says that we should go back to his for a few drinks before hand.
Joss had to tidy up Notre Dame so he came 20 minutes later and by the
time he arrived, George was asleep on the bed…..he then picked
himself up, went into the bathroom and threw his guts up, and fell
asleep with his face in the cold, white porcelain (of the sink, don’t
worry!)….

We left him there (not in the sink, we put him to bed) and proceeded to
the club of death…Queen Shiv was quickly found at the bar with her
aides, Rob + Alex, and much drink festivity was had…and as soon as
the sounds of Mary J Blige were heard weraced to the stage to shake
some tail – oh shit I just realised that I forgot a big thing….

*Appendix* – before seeing Mistress Shiv, I had the misfortune to come
across the crazy chick from the party who was crying (again) in the
club (but this time she was mixing it up with a bit of throwing up as
well which is pretty novel)…anyway I think that her mates were taking
stress tablets or some shit because one of them started to have a go at
me…’Make her better!’ ‘You know how to cheer her up!’ ‘How old are
you?!’. If I had have known how to sober her up and make her full of
the joys of spring, believe me, I would have just to get her to piss
off – and then I would have finished with another phrase which would
have made this guy turn into a fucking big can of petrol which I would
have tipped over her and set on fire (only joking kids – don’t play
with matches)…Well obviously I could do little to save her so she was
carried home…in the meantime we went back into the club and danced
for ages….Joss (who was ace earlier in the night dealing with the
faux-agression scenario) was on fire…Shiv was on fire…Alex
was….oh Alex….

You see the problem was (and always is) with this club that there were
roughly 2 girls there (ok a couple more than that but you get the
impression) and Alex started dancing with this real hotty (a shock to
all of us due to the fact that there was already one bona fide hotty on
the stage)…it all looked good until her boyfriend showed up and
dragged her off the dancefloor (by her hair) into the cloakroom. Doh!
Alex then showed why he won the ‘Nice Guy of the Year 1997′ award
because he persued the couple to the bar and demanded that the prick
boyfriend apologise. Naturally this dickhead wasn’t going to, but Alex
stood his ground and eventually (when surrounded by about 20 blokes)
the twat boyfriend left (after vowing to ‘break Alex’s heart’ (an
interesting proposition)).

Shortly after this carnival Joss and I walked home (in the bitter cold)
which took 45 minutes for me…Ouch! I still have George’s front door
key (he he he)…I wonder what carnage I can cause with this little
beauty…