The Lock-Out

(Post #150)

Bit of a fiasco yesterday. Walked to Next with Sarah and, once her shift had started, plodded over to the Atrium to find some stuff for my dissertation (in fact, yesterday's update was typed in the Mac lab). Headed back but realised that I didn't have a doorkey. Could, I suppose, have gone into Next to ask Sarah for hers but would have had to wait 'til her break so went it alone.



Knocked on the door, hoping Marius would be about to let me in but, alas, no. Sat on the front wall for a bit, enjoying the sunshine and reading the Britpop book I had just checked out of the Atrium library before taking action.

Went to my parents' house. Rang Paul the Landlord and asked if he had a spare key. Very kindly offered to pick me up from parents' house and take me back to Tewkesbury Place. Had a nice chat in the car with him and his wife, apparently they have a 14-year-old daughter with a penchant for gory horror films. Her mother showed her Jaws in the hopes that she'd enjoy it but just pointed and laughed all the way through.

Got in, but neglected to ask Paul to lock the door. Spent the second half of the afternoon alone in an unlocked house, playing Tetris and nervously refreshing Twitter every two minutes to make sure riots hadn't started in Cardiff yet.

They never did, contrary to myriad rumours. Sarah rang me after work and reported that the only violence going down on Queen Street at that moment was seagull-based. She was waiting for Tom and Jen to pick herup and bring her back, which they did, eventually.

In the evening we went to Asda. On the way, Tom and I demonstrated our Destiny's Child sing-along skills for Jen, and upon arrival I bought 5 bags of Smart Price penne for 17p each.

Joel.

P.S. Paul has apparently been 'round today r drop a couple of spare keys so hopefully no more key-nanigans.

Life's A Game/Manly Garments

Tom is in the house, and he, Sarah and I have just finished playing the Game of Life for the second time in less than 24 hours.

He was here last night too, you see. He popped by after work, and the three of us went to the rec to kick the Cars ball about for a bit, take some penalties, make some passes, that kind of thing. On reflection I will probably not be the next Pepe Reina.

After that we returned home, and after having various meals (I had pasta and mussels in cream; Sarah fishcakes. Tom just ordered a pizza) I coerced the other two into playing the game. They were reluctant at first but it didn't take them long to get into it. Sarah was a scientist to begin with, but she lost her job and became an actress, earning a fair few grand more for her troubles. I was an artist-turned-rock star, and Tom was an athlete (if you asked him he would tell you he was Usain Bolt...he was not), but neither of us could mount any kind of challenge and Sarah finished the game as a millionaire, while we barely had 10k each. Still, it was the first time Tom had ever been in the black. Zing!

Today was more interesting. Tom the Scientist and Sarah the Doctor (both of whom went to uni) seemed to be competing in a two-horse race for the win, while Joel the Pilot (who did not) was toiling away in 3rd. But oh! A well-placed bet won me £400,00, and I managed to pip them both to the post. Yeah!

And now the revelation: I have been typing this whole thing while wearing a rabbit onesie, complete with a little heart for a tail. Before setting up the Life board again, Tom and I took a trip to Primark. So now Tom is a dalmatian, and Sarah and I are a pair of bunnies. Cliffey, in a shocking turn of events, is not wearing his onesie, for I think the first time since he got it. But three onesies is probably enough for one room.

Sarah is currently poking Tom.

But not like that.

Joel.

P.S. Oh, and our little shopping trip got even gayer when we popped to HMV. Keep in mind that we already had a Primark bag full of onesie each, and Tom saw fit to buy a Destiny's Child compilation to go with his. Jen Brooksby works in HMV. She was most befuddled.  

QWOP 'Til You Drop

ALL THE WOMEN WHO INDEPENDENT

There are five heterosexual men, all squashed into a Fiat.

ALL THE HONEYS WHO MAKIN' MONEY

One of them is wearing pyjamas, another has glorious pair of Bill Sykes muttonchops.

ALL THE MOMMAS WHO PROFIT DOLLAS

They are listening to Independent Women (Pt. 1) by Destiny's Child. They know a few too many of the words.

ALL THE LADIES WHO TRULY FEEL ME

These were the scenes when Tom, Josh and myself (for it was I in my jammies) went to pick Cliffey and JR up from The Black Griffin last night. It was the first time we've listened to Destiny's Child in Tom's car without being stopped by the police.

THROW YOUR HANDS UP AT ME!

And the night only got better when Josh introduced us to QWOP.

It's perhaps the most difficult - yet most addictive - game in history. Go ahead, try it out. I'll wait.

* * *

Whu-you came back? How? Well, uh, I don't remember who did the best. Suffice to say it wasn't me, I think it was Cliffey or maybe JR (he was The Ultimate Man of 2010, after all; muttonchops and dirty pints are apparently the way forward). Pete did pretty well too but he kind of cheated.

Joel.