Elaboration

Alright then, birthday weekend.


Saturday was Bristol Zoo. My family came in the car to pick me and Sarah up, and off we went. We listened to songs from the 60s on the way there.

It had been a while since I'd been to a zoo, and I'd forgotten how much fun they could be. We saw lions and monkeys and penguins and seals and flamingoes and meerkats and lemurs and prarie dogs and snakes and pufferfish and gorillas and red pandas and chicken frogs and monitor lizards and bird-eating spiders and a butterfly landed on my leg and Sarah took many many photos, which I imagine will go up on Facebook as soon as we pay the Virgin bill and they give us our internet back.

On the way back from Bristol, we hit up Penylan library and took out a couple of DVDs to watch (after much deliberation and debate). That evening we watched Burlesque, featuring Cher and Christina Aguilera who were okay but very much upstaged by Stanley Tucci (a.k.a. the dad from Easy A). We paused the film halfway through to enjoy my pre-birthday cheesecake; apparently I would be getting my actual birthday cake from another source. Sarah and my mum knew something that I didn't.


So yesterday was my actual birthday and, even though I'm 20 now, I feel pretty much the same as I did when I was a teenager. Hopefully that should allay any of your fears if you're still 19 (I wish I were still 19; my childhood is over. I can't believe I'll never be young again!)

There were many presents, including Liverpool shirts, the Extras boxset, albums by PJ Harvey, Bon Iver, Radiohead, and R.E.M. (the latter on vinyl), all 6 Scott Pilgrim books in a nifty boxset with a poster, some awesome old man pyjamas (exactly my style), a coat that makes me feel like I'm in the Editors, and of course a clarinet, which Tom is going to show me how to play, maybe.

On to the birthday meal. Harvester has kind of lost its novelty, and the folks at TGI's have a nasty habit of singing to you on your birthday, so, at Sarah's recommendation, we decided to try something new and headed to Frankie & Benny's on Newport Road. It was very nice indeed; I had a cajun chicken pasta bake, followed by this insane cookie thing with ice cream and berries.

Frankie & Benny's left us very very full, but rather than go home and collapse we opted to go to Pets At Home and look at the fuzzy animals. It was like Bristol Zoo all over again - they even had pufferfish! Sarah and I were rather taken with the Degus, but decided that a student house was probably no environment for a little mouse, and decided to leave the pets for another day.

Back home, we watched The Other Guys (the other fim from the library) before heading back to Tewkesbury Place to set up for the evening.

There was to be no huge house rave, just a few people gathering in a place to play Mario Party 2 and say how much they like me. But we had a problem - we had lost the Mario Party cartridge.

Cue much wailing and gnashing of teeth. We enlisted the help of Mark and Josh (who arrived before anyone else) and turned the hunt into a party game of sorts, scouring the living room and sifting through the debris in Ciffey's room in search of that game. But it was nowhere to be seen; my brother's friend Jacob had lent us Mario Party 1 as a contingency plan, but dammit, that just wasn't the same.


So spirits were greatly lifted when I summoned up some previously untapped might to lift one of the sofas up and Josh, peeking underneath, cried out that he had spotted it. Success!

Tom and Jen and Tim and Anna soon joined the party, and pretty soon I had accrued a LOT of cake. Mark had brought a chocolate birthday cake from his work, and Jen had made piles and piles and piles of little fairy cake things. Having spoken to my mum today, she was at least partially in on this plan, and had relinquished the cheesecake a day early so as not to overwhelm me on the big day.

We played couples' Mario Party Drinking Game for a while - one person playing, one drinking - but eventually Anna left, Tim was left on his own, and the game descended into chaos. So we abandoned it and just sat around chatting. And singing, and rapping - I got hold of Pete's guitar and Tom and I did a rendition or two of all our most popular hits.

And that brings us just about up to present. Nobody really stayed over (well, Sarah and Tom and Jen did, obviously, but they would have done anyway) but it still had a bit of a slumber party feel to it, mostly thanks to the commitment of people like Tim and Josh who had brought pyjamas to change into even though they would have to change back out of them again before the night was over. The whole weekend, in fact, was excellent times, and in all seriousness, I'm not worried about the passing of my teenagerdom. I never acted much like a teenager anyway, and I don't expect to start acting like a proper grown-up now.

Joel.

Enter Bonelle/House of the Couples

And so, at last, Tom Bonelle is officially living here. God knows it's been a long time coming, given that he was supposed to be one of the original five housemates back in September, but he's finally gotten his shit together and moved in.

Not that, even yesterday, he didn't take is time about it. Sarah, who was nursing a Big Weekend hangover, had to go to Sturff yesterday, so I stayed behind to get our old room ready for Tom's arrival. My dad came 'round at 9.30 to assist me* in assembling the new bed (which was retarded; it came in two halves and the clamps that were meant to hold them together didn't do shit) and, some hooverin' and hammerin' later, the bedroom was ready for its new owner.

But the owner, it seemed, was not yet ready for the bedroom. I waited in my ivory tower, watching the road and playing tetris, but no-one came. I called his mobile, but no-one answered. We had plans to go to Varsity with Sian and Pete, and Tom was causing serious scheduling issues. 

I went to the station to meet Sarah after work, and when Tom had still not materialsed upon our return, we decided to take action. Sian had Jen's phone number, and we figured that she might know where our housemate-to-be was hiding.

Sian rang Jen and, well, it worked better than expected because apparently, even though Tom doesn't answer his own phone, he does answer Jen's.

So eventually the three couples managed to congregate at Varsity but, unfortunately, the kitchen had just closed. This posed a problem; what should our triumvirate do for tea? We were all starving, and many suggestions were put forth - takeaways, restaurants, cafés, even some pansy vegetarian place that Jen recommended - but no decision was made so eventually we decided just to cruise down Crwys and eat whatever took our fancy.

When we made it all the way to Death Junction without any hint of a decision, I took control (sort of). I corralled everyone towards Zio Peppino's, the Italian restuarant on Albany Road that my family always goes to, and as luck would have it, they had a table for six all ready to go.

Now I had already suggested this place, and that suggestion had been met with middling enthusiasm, but when everyone saw the free bread and breadsticks, well, I think my choice was validated.

Also the meals themselves were awesome and everyone was very full afterwards.

And that's more or less the end. We were planning to stay up all night playing games and eating snacks (couples slumber party!) and the night was shaping up to be a fun one. Tom and Jen had just popped back to his house to grab his TV and we were looking forward to a friendly bit of Mario Party.

Of course I was asleep long before they returned, but I'm told they took over two hours. We'll have to have our slumber party another time, I guess. Maybe for my birthday (which is on the 14th, that's a week today, buy me a present).

Joel.

*Okay, he basically did it all himself. He was appalled by the state of the garage, and very disappointed in whomever acquired that Fanny Street sign, THOM CLIFFE AND JOSHUA ROBSON I AM LOOKING AT YOU.

Mario Party for the Soul

So after the events described in yesterday's entry, Meg and Tim joined the fray and we got our Mario Party 2 Drinking Game awn. Tom and Cliffey watched but didn't participate, but for a few practice rounds of Bumper Balls.

Tim complained about a third of the way through the 35 turns that the game didn't get you drunk enough. We told him to hold his criticisms 'til a little further on; he was, after all, winning at this point and as such hadn't had all that many fingers.

He later complained that I wasn't drunk enough - I had invited him and Meg on the proviso that they would witness me inebriated, and I guess he felt he wasn't getting his money's worth. By this point I was in the lead, and he suggested that had we been playing a different game - one where I didn't have the advantage of nearly 10 years' experience - I might be drunkerer. I responded by pointing out that when playing Death for your soul, you don't get to choose the game.

Which seemed profound at the time but in morning's cold light it just seems pompous. And I'm not so up on my mythology so it might not even be accurate.

After the game, when we were all nicely drunk (including Tim, oddly enough), we just sat around and, well, spoke for about four hours on such deep and meaningful subjects as how much we would have to be offered to receive anal sex*.

We also watched Charlie the Unicorn and made jokes about an Italian man's pasta-based death. More on which tomorrow.

Joel.

*We all agreed that it would have to be quite a lot.

So Much For Lent

Yeah, I missed a day when I had solemnly resolved not to, but in my defense the computer seems to have come out in sympathy of the striking lecturers a couple of days early. So the possibility of a blog entry materialising yesterday was nulled by BSoDs, non-boots, flashing white hyphens, and people coming to the house and distracting me.

Still, as much as I want to tell you about a) JR and Hannah Tucker's attempts to best me at Mario Party, and b) our trip to Tesco with Tom in the evening, I have decided instead to discuss the impromptu visit of Sam Rees a couple of days prior, as I said I would on Facebook. If you're wondering about those other two things, a) they didn't, and b) he bought an extra-large pick 'n' mix and a copy of Nuts.

So Sam Rees spent Sunday night in our living room, and though I have gathered that he went to the pub quiz at the Cottage, I'm still unclear as to why he was down in the first place. He's gone back to Swansea now, as far as I'm aware, so it's not like he's finished for Easter or anything. Maybe he did just come down for the quiz.

I was surprised to see Sam in the house, as I think were we all. But we were all amiable to him - we haven't seen him in a while, and we all have our long, lonely nights spent longing for him to barge in and say something silly - with the exception of Pete.

Pete wandered into the living room at some small number a.m. and presumably saw Sam resting on the airbed. He was heard to exclaim, quite simply, "YOU!", before unleashing a lightning tirade of kung-fu pain upon his arch-nemesis. It took the combined strengths of myself, Sarah and Cliffey to peel him off, and as we dragged him back up to his room he cursed Sam to the last. Not everything he said was completely intelligible, but suffice it to say that the words 'vendetta', 'purge', and 'divine right' were all being thrown about.

This didn't actually happen, but I do distinctly remember mentioning that it would have been both cool and hilarious.

Joel.

P.S. In case you're wondering if our computer has recovered...no, it hasn't. I'm typing this in the Mac lab in uni.

Self-Promotion

Ugh. We're only three days into Lent and already I can't think of anything to talk about. Everyone's already read every single Monthly Scandal, right? That was good, sometimes. It's weird that I called Pete 'Peter' in that last issue though.

But yeah, today marked the end of a rather torrid three-assignment week down at t'Atrium - Monday had me and two others giving a musicological presentation on Bjork, yesterday was a five-hour recording session (although I did bring Jelly Babies to that so it wasn't too terrible), and today was the deadline for our 1,500-word research proposal.

Which, had you knocked on my door at nine o' clock this morning, you would have found me rushing to finish. I could have probably done some work on it last night, but in my defense I'd just come out of a five-hour recording session and Tom and Josh were 'round and they were all like "Oooh Mario Party" and I just can't resist being a dick to Tom through the medium of N64 games so I did that and then I came last anyway so THAT was a huge waste of time.

Not that I'd left the essay 'til the last minute or anything; I was just being a little more daring than usual with my time management.

At any rate, I got it all done, bibliography and all, by about half past one, and Sarah and I promptly dashed (through the medium of a bus) to the Atrium, where I handed it in with time to spare. Sorted.

After that Sarah treated me to a film. We went to see Unknown, with Liam Neeson. I must admit that I was rather 'Taken' with it.

Oh Joel, do stop.

Joel.

Mario Party 2 Drinking Game

MARIO PARTY 2 DRINKING GAME

Official Rules 

1. If you land on a red space, take a drink.
2. If you land on a ? space, take a drink.
3. If Baby Bowser steals coins from you, take a drink.
4. Upon conclusion of a mini-game (including Duel and Battle mini-games), any and all losing players must take a drink.
5. If you receive a star, all other players must finish their drinks. This includes bonus stars awarded at the end of the game.
6. Upon arrival at the Item Store, or any other space which gives the player the option of exchanging coins for goods or services, that player must either pay for what is being offered, or take a drink.
7. If a player employs the services of Boo to steal coins from a rival, then that player (the one who employed Boo) must drink for the duration of Boo's attack. Note that this includes use of the Boo Bell, and that Boo is also susceptible to Rule 5.
8. If you employ Boo to steal a star from a rival, you must finish your drink as compensation.
9. If, for whatever reason, you are sent back to the starting space, finish your drink.
10. If Bowser appears on the board and steals your coins, take a drink.
11. If you land on the Bowser space, drink a finger of each player's drink, including your own.
12. Upon passing the bank space, take a drink.
13. If a player lands directly on the bank space, all other players must take a drink.
14. If you fail to receive an item while playing the item game, take a drink.
15. If you receive a Bowser Bomb, drink a finger of each player's drink, including your own.
16. Upon arrival at Toad's star space, if you do not have the 20 coins necessary to pay for the star, finish your drink.
17. If you roll a 1 at any point during the game, take a drink. This includes the opening roll to see who goes first, as well as rolls bolstered by Mushrooms and Golden Mushrooms. It does not, however, include mini-games that involve stopping a dice, such as Honeycomb Havoc.
18. If you lose coins or stars through Chance Time (including Bowser's Chance Time), take a drink.
19. If you do anything in-game that makes the other players laugh for more than ten seconds, finish your drink. This includes events that incur drinking penalties under other rules.
20. FOR HARDCORE MARIO PARTIERS ONLY! Take a drink every time you see Bowser (or Baby Bowser) on screen.

These rules can be applied to any Mario Party game, although they were written with Mario Party 2 in mind so some issues may be unavoidable. Add your own rules as you see fit, and remember: play to win.

Joel.

Should Have Gone To Heli-Beds

It's fair to say that Tom, Cliffey and myself enjoy a spot of football now and then.

We usually satiate our soccerlust by playing various editions of FIFA, cheering on our fantasy teams on the Sky Sports website, and occasionally even going to Varsity to actually watch a game.

Last week, however, we decided to step it up a notch.

We decided that we would go to a proper football ground and watch a proper football match like proper fans.

The hard part was deciding which team to see. Cliffey lobbied for Everton vs. Blackpool, but the tickets would have been expensive, and the journey long. And I wasn't too keen on taking a pew in Goodison Park anyway.

Perhaps, then, we could go and see Cliffey's other team, Huddersfield Town, in action? They were in Exeter this weekend, and though Devon was a fair jaunt away, it would surely be a grand day out.

But no, too far. So we eventually settled for Hereford United vs. Lincoln City; Tom had family in Hereford, and as such he'd been to a few of their games before. He promised cheap and plentiful tickets and a relatively short drive. Plus, in all the games he'd gone to, he'd never seen his beloved United score a goal, so that would be nice for him.

So on Saturday morning we set off. Cliffey and I made it fairly clear that the music we wanted to listen to didn't feature anyone from N-Dubz, and so it was a relatively pleasant drive. We stopped at Tesco to get some food for the road, and my insistence that real men didn't buy pre-made sandwiches lead to rather a lot of crumbs in Tom's car. This is mostly due to my method: tearing off chunks of french bread and wrapping them in slices of discount ham, while tasty, is admittedly a slightly flawed way of doing things if you want to keep the surrounding area tidy.

A couple of hours and many, many jokes about Hereford later we arrived at Edgar Street. It took us a while to find a parking space - it must have been peak time at Heli-Beds - but we eventually found a spot, paid our £14, squeezed through the turnstile, and took our place at the side of the pitch.

Unfortunately, in spite of all the sportsmanship ("Booooooooo! Ya fat shit!"), witty and creative chants ("Come on Hereford!") and the opportunity to be amongst other people who really appreciate fantastic football ("What a shit kick!"), the game ended 0-0 so it was a bit of a waste of time really.*

But in spite of this dull performance**, we still enjoyed ourselves. Which just goes to show that the joy is in the journey, not whatever it is you're going for.

Unless you're on your way to any match that doesn't involve Hereford United. The Huddersfield and Everton matches were both veritable goalfests, with Huddersfield thumping Exeter 4-1, and Everton coming from 3-2 down to beat Blackpool 5-3 in what was probably a very exciting match.

And, to top it off, Tom has still yet to see his favourite West Country team score. On the plus side, he did get to drown his sorrows in an ice cream sundae and some illegal salad at Harvester afterwards, so he was in a good mood for the Mario Party 2 drinking game.

More on that another time.

Joel.

*The 'official' sources will tell you that Lincoln won 1-0 but I was looking at my programme when the 'goal' was 'scored'  so as far as I'm concerned it was goalless. The BBC, as well as both clubs' official websites will tell you otherwise, but you know what? I was there.

**The only one who was really making any effort at all was the old man running back and forth with half-time snacks. He was a HERO.