Bucket List

Last night I watched the film Bucket List starring the ever-great Jack Nicholson and the always outstanding Morgan Freeman. For those of you that haven't seen this movie yet, I highly recommend it. The film follows the two characters Edward and Carter - Nicholson and Freeman respectively - as they set out to tick items off of their bucket list after having met in the hospital.

What's a bucket list? I hear you ask. A bucket list is of course a list of things that you want to do or accomplish before you die, or should I say Kick the Bucket!

This has gotten me to thinking of what I'd like to do to live what I can later look back on as having been a complete and fulfilled life. So, ladies and gents I give to you, in no particular order, the first draft of my own personal bucket list:

1. Visit America, particularly Florida, New York and California - A US tour would be ideal.

2. Visit Rome and to utter the phrase 'When in Rome' while there.

3. Go gliding (again).

4. Go to the Superbowl.

5. Go to Wrestlemania.

6. Cycle the length/width of the country.

7. Climb a great height.

8. Help someone out by peeing on their leg after they've been stung by jellyfish.

9. Meet Mick Foley and give him a hug.

10. Write a Book.

11. Become a published author.

12. Make the New York Times Bestsellers list.

13. Discuss the art of literature with Stephen King.

14. Have a Media Room in my house - a place to retreat to.

15. Have those little fish nibble at my feet.

16. Get a tattoo.

17. Read Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol at Christmas time.

18. Build a snowman that comes to life at night and aids me in walking in the air...

19. Ride in Santa's Sleigh.

20. Learn how to play the pia-pia-piano.

21. Perform a successful backflip.

22. Create a signature culinary masterpiece.

23. Celebrate a milestone birthday with a party that I can actually remember.

24. Be a film extra.

25. Ride the biggest roller coaster there is to ride - arguably this is life itself!

Ok, Ok, some of this is pretty silly, and there will be many other things that I will want to add and change to this list in the future as I continue to age and change as a person. Of course there's an obvious few missing from this list - those being to remain healthy, to have a happy family, and to have a successful career - but those are standard and the three staples of any bucket list... for most people anyway. There is also the factor to consider of that it took me about 5 minutes to write down this list, therefore it hasn't been well thought-out, which kind of makes it null and void. I guess you've all just wasted your time reading this. Poor you! Maybe you should all go out there instead of continuing to just sit there and tick some things off of your own bucket list!

Dreams of Torment

My dreams of the last week seem to be playing some kind of psychological game with me, like a gang of school bullies who've stolen my rucksack and are throwing it between each other, keeping it out of my reach. The first was on Saturday night, and left me in a bit of bad mood all day Sunday. The dream involved me receiving news that the job that I'd originally been turned down from had changed their minds and wanted to hire me. The job itself was a mesh - a hybrid - of all of the jobs that I've been to interviews for so far this year. The job that I was being hired for incorporated all of the good qualities from each of these realistically mundane roles and rolled them all up into one for me. It had the best pay, best location, best company benefits and best dress code! Lovely. I then woke up, and after a few seconds that harsh, gritty realisation that the job had been the fiction of my mind came crashing down around me in the bed. And there we have it, I was hard for poor old Stacey to get along with all day, because the job wasn't real and I felt like a failure for not actually possessing what was merely a figment of my unconcious imagination. Towards the end of the day I did manage to get over it - and myself - and cheered up.

Truth be told, my epic quest to gain full time employment has been put on hold for a couple of weeks, and with good reason. The good reason being that the light at the end of the tunnel, the finishing line is finally in sight... My degree is nearly complete! Yes, I am currently in the midst of my last ever assignment, and I can't wait to get past it. Not only will I be able to put that I am a graduate on my CV (which should bloody well help with the job hunt), but I also won't have to spend any more time trolling through textbooks and meeting deadlines on pure self motivation. I'm ever so close to the word count at the time of writing, after which I have only to edit and reference... Oh, and maybe send it off to Pete who wrote the same essay a year ago for a readthrough if he has time before my Thursday deadline (heads-up buddy!).

Elsewhere, there is some happy news on another job front, and that is that finally, after a total time of over a year racked up as a temp at her current job, Stacey has been awarded a permanent position! Congratulations are in order, she deserves it! Now if only I could catch up!

BEER MONEY!

Last Saturday, Stacey and I visited France for the day along with friends Tam and Andrew. The main purpose for any Englishman to visit said country was fulfilled during the day as several bottles of alcoholic beverages were purchased for low-low prices. On the ferry I picked up a tasty bargain in the form of 48 bottles of Budweiser (King of Beers) for a meagre £20. I already had two bottles of the stuff at home, meaning that I was among other things in life, the proud owner of 50 bottles of Bud! It didn;t take long for me to drink one (48 hours to be exact), and I was then left with 49. I've made mention on here before of the mild form of OCD that I feel I suffer, and believe every single person to possess in some form, and Stacey, remembering this felt that I should drink another to take it down to an even 48 bottles. I surprised her though by replying with the fact that I think 49 is a nicer number than 48. I can't explain any reason or rationale for this, it's just the way I feel about those numbers... 49 > 48 afterall.

I also picked up 10 bottles of French Lager for €2.70 - another great deal - and we all bought plenty of wine and some cheese, making us stereotypical English in France. After our shopping trip, Stacey drove us to Dunqurke and we parked up for a walk around. We found a bar/restaurant and decided to stop for a drink and some food. The waitress that came to our table didn't speak English, and after a bit of a struggle, we managed to order our drinks. The girls ordered Pepsi, while Andrew and me ordered whatever the beer was, opting for the mammoth litre glasses. These glasses of beer were bigger than our heads, and needless to say we were pretty drunk after finishing. The funny thing about this place wasn't the fact that the beer came in such large quantities that you could get pissed from 1 glass, no, you see after our struggle to communcate our drinks order, the waitress whipped away our menus before we could attempt to tell her what we wanted to eat. When she went to get our drinks, I grabbed it back from the nearby bar where she had put it, but when she came back with our drinks, she actually snatched it from my hands and took it away again. We thought that maybe food wasn't being served at that time and that maybe she didn't know how to communicate that fact to us. We were wrong though, as other tables ordered and were served meals of their choosing. She obviously couldn't be bothered with us bloody English not speaking her language. A nearby McDonald's therefore served as the antidote to mine and Andrew's drunkedness, a Le Double Cheese soaking mine up for me.

The Corruption of the Bean Market

I had planned to write a very different blog tonight from the one that you're about to read, a more standard blog. But, my friend and broski Tom Birch - to whom this blog is dedicated - alerted me to this very serious matter that must be addressed in some form. The baked bean industry it seems, could well be getting poured out of the frying pan, and into the flames!

The conversation began as I went out on a break to purchase a snack during work this evening. Browsing the snacks in the supermarket, I came across a new product - an event that always excites me, not matter what the product - A Pork Farms sausage roll featuring Branston Pickle. 'Yum' was my immediate thought, and I grabbed one and made my way happily to the self-service checkout. I returned to the store, clutching my prize, and as usual was asked by my colleagues for the shift - one of course being Tom, the other John - what I'd got. I showed them with glee my Branston injected sausage roll, to which John returned a look of disgust, apparently not being a fan of the stuff. Tom on the other hand seemed intrigued. It was then that Tom mentioned about how Branston make the best Baked Beans, 'Better than Heinz' he told me. I then mentioned one of those things in life that really grinds my gears, and that's when there's too much sauce in a tin of beans, referring to the other top bean brand Cross and Blackwell, who's beans we'd enjoyed in the Cooke household for years until last year when we noticed that with each tin, we'd suffer from more bean juice pouring out over our dinners. It had unfortunately gotten to the stage where the other month, we found that we were ridding ourselves of the sauce before baking the beans on the stove, and that when we did so, we were left with a mere, measly, meagre - some would say sickening - half a tin of beans. We no longer buy Cross and Blackwell beans, but rather, the supermarket own brand, or if they happen to be on offer that week, we go Heinz.

Upon telling Tom of this, he told me that Cross and Blackwell weren't the only offenders of the half-a-tin-of-sauce shenanigans. No, he told me that the budget beans, namely Sainsbury's Basics were also guilty of the same charge. Although to the defence of Sainsbury's, their Basics beans only cost around 5 pence, which is a tiny fraction compared to Cross and Blackwell. Even still, Tom then begged me a question: If they have to fill half the tin with the sauce to charge so little, then why don't they just produce tins half the size? Makes sense, as it would not only save on production costs to make the tins, but it would also save space in the warehouses, stores, and in the homes of the bean-loving public. It would also mean that those who buy these tins of beans would no longer have to sift out all that pesky sauce before the warming up process!

I agreed with Tom's more than valid point, and even provided an alternative. I mean, we don't want to tell these bean manufacturers to go to the fuss of producing smaller tins. For all we know, that could mean all kinds of paperwork for some poor schlep in an office somewhere. Therefore, my alternative is to raise the price a little then (only to what's fair) and put more beans in the tins again. I'd rather pay an extra few pence than end up with a soggy dinner when I forget to pour the sauce down the sink.

Whichever way you look at it, the bean world is in clear crisis! There's corruption afoot as far as my sources* tell me. I hope we can all stand together and fight the figurative giant that is the bean manufacturers (little Jack and the Beanstalk reference there for those that didn't notice). Who's with me?

If you've made it this far into the blog, I thank you for reading. I'll try and write the more conventional blog that I had originally planned to write and to which you have all become more accustomed to tomorrow. And Tom, I hope this is enough thanks for bringing me Chuck!

*Source: Tom Birch

Can't Catch Tomorrow

...yeah the haircut's hot, but this has gotta stop. Good shoes won't save you this time!

-LOSTPROPHETS



This job hunt is really becoming a complete and total bitch! Not only do I have to contend with the fact that I am younger than many a job seeker out there, and therefore am lacking in experience, but now the excuses are becoming absurd and ridiculous. Earlier this week I went along for yet another interview - My 5th of the year for those of you keeping count - and although the interviewer for this company was rather hard read, a fact I had been alerted to prior, I still thought things had gone relatively well... and they had. I got the phone call from the recruitment agency that had sent me there the following day, and was told that yes, indeed I had interviewed splendidly. I had presented myself well, looking dapper in my best suit, had spoken eloquently and given all of the correct answers. Unfortunately I wasn't being offered the job. Of course my immediate response was 'Why?', and the recruitment agent was almost embarrassed to inform me that it was because the man that had interviewed me felt that I was 'too nice'. That's right, I didn't get the job because apparently I'm too pleasant a person. They felt I would have been 'eaten alive'. You're probably all wondering now just what was this job doing - Prison Warden? Parking Warden? Bouncer? - None of the above, this job was in payroll. Now, I can understand that they may get some pretty irate clients phoning them up about pay, but I had assured them that I had dealt with much worse on a regular basis in my retail career. I guess all I can do is look at this as a blessing in disguise, as surely something much better can come along than working for a company whose name is similar to Maxipad!

 

Maybe I'm becoming impatient with wanting my life to move along a little. It's all just so frustrating!

 

In more lighthearted news, we had another long weekend this past week. The Royal Wedding gave cause for celebration a week ago, and a street party broke out in my neighbourhood, and then of course the Americans finally caught Osama Bin Laden. Quite the historic weekend then. In my world, the highlight would probably be a BBQ with a couple of friends on the Monday. At work, with the imminent release of The King's Speech - which I just enjoyed even more upon second viewing last night - we received a Colin Firth cardboard standee at the store. The problem was, this standee is life size, and whenever any of us were busy behind the counter, we would have this constant uncomfortable feeling that somebody was watching us. That someone was Colin. It got the stage in which Colin was used as a tool in terror, and would forever find himself lurking behind doors in a bid to scare the hell out of whoever happened to walk that way next. Thanks to Jason setting him up right behind the door at the top of some stairs, I nearly fell down said stairs, and that was after being warned by Jason that he was in fact hiding there. To gain a measure of revenge, I hid Colin behind the door that leads to the upstairs area from the shop floor. My not-so-cunning plan backfired like it was one of Baldrick's, as Jason didn't need to go upstairs for a few hours, and I ended up needing to go up there before he did... and stupidly I may have forgotten about hiding Colin there. Needless to say I fell backwards and screamed as soon as I opened the door, much to the hilarity of customers in the vicinity. At the request of the boss, Colin was to be gone from the store, so knowing how much Stacey's Mum likes Colin Firth, I took him to Stacey's where the hijinks have continued, as he actually intimidates everyone, not just us scaredy-cats at work.

 

Anyway, the job hunt continues, but at least for now I know that I've essentially got my interview technique down, even if I'm not mean enough. I'll catch tomorrow eventually, but for now I can enjoy today. I finish my degree in a few weeks with the submission of my final assessment, so I've got that to look ahead to. With that said, I've got a book to finish reading...

Toilet Humour with Asterix and Obelix

Here we are; I expected that I'd write another entry last week, but those plans ended up dead, gutted and fried in the pan. Things seem busy, and not necessarily in a bad way. Last Monday I travelled up to London's O2 with friends Sam and Andy to see WWE Raw live. We made a day of it, setting off at 10am. My day began in a hurry, as instead of pressing the 'snooze' button on my alarm clock, I turned it completely off, and woke up again at 9:45. I hopped in the shower, and got ready A.S.A.P. Andy picked me up and we headed to Sam's. Before setting off for London, Sam sorted his car at the local BP (of which Pete is fully familiar), which allowed me to have a little banter with a couple of former colleagues from the woolies days. It was on the way to the O2 that I got to make up for having skipped breakfast with a nice healthy Burger King. The show wasn't to start until 7:30pm, so I'm sure many of you are wondering why we left do darn early. To answer that, I'll explain that there's plenty to do at the former Millennium Dome, and we entertained ourselves by going to the cinema. We watched new comedy Your Highness, starring Danny McBride, James Franco, and the lovely Natalie Portman. There were memorable quotes galore in what was a very epic adventure comedy, such as 'Look at Courtney's new hair cut, doesn't it make him look like the tip off a cock', which gave us a new nickname for Andy in Courtney. I'm not exactly sure why, but from now on Andy shall be known as Courtney, and that's that.

Now, before the movie started I found myself needing the loo - having not been on my morning excursion to the lavatory what with rushing thanks to oversleeping. I'm not one for public toilets, and usually make visits to them as brief as possible. However, this was precarious situation, I'd become pretty uncomfortable and would not enjoy myself nearly as much if I attempted to hold it all in for the entire day, so I had suck it up (not literally), and do what a man sometimes has to do. I entered the men's room and as there was nobody around, I took the time to make a brief inspection of the facilities... I had a look at which of the cubicles was the cleanest, that the one I had chosen had a working lock and toilet paper, and that the dispensers above the sinks had a fresh supply of soap. With all of the above confirmed within half a minute, I placed some paper over the seats, and... well, you get the idea. While in this position, I couldn't help but wonder whether I was being over the top, and whether I was maybe crossing the boundaries into complete suffering of O.C.D. I came to the conclusion that either way, I was in a losing position, as I'm guessing that about half of you reading this think I'm insane for going through all of those checks and precautions, while the other half of you probably think I'm insane for using a public toilet in the first place - and to the women out there, trust me when I say that you can't imagine how much worse a men's room can be in comparison to how I'm imagining the ladies' to look.

After some drinks in Thai Silk and a tasty meal that sizzled like the sun in T.G.I. Friday, we made our way into the arena and found our seats, which although were close to the entrance stage, were to the side of it, meaning that we couldn't see the jumbo-screen. Thankfully there was nothing of note to see on the big screen during the telecast, however when going to a TV taping like this, when the crew were setting up for the next segment, they'd play a video on the screen to keep the fans entertained - all we could do was hear some sounds out of context, while looking out into the arena and seeing 20,000 people staring past us. Highlights of the night included a guy by the name of R-Truth turning bad and lighting up a cigarette, inciting a 'That's Illegal' chant from the masses, and a couple of thrilling, edge-of-our-seats matches.


The rest of the week seemed to disappear in a blur. I enjoyed the sunshine when I could, and worked a couple of shifts, one of which lasted for 11 hours, on what was a busy day indeed due to the company's schizophrenia causing us to have to change our systems every other week. I also attended a leaving night out for one of Stacey's (now former) colleagues. Suddenly it was Good Friday, and I had the day set aside for a visit from some relatives. We spent the day in the garden talking, drinking and jumping around on the trampoline. Saturday was spent at work again, and then I had my first Easter Sunday off in quite a few years. Easter Sunday happened to coincide with the 75th birthday of Stacey's Grandma, so the day was spent round her Uncle and Aunt's house. I tried beef wellington for the first time, which I'm sure you're all excited to read, and we spent a day talking and playing games. I hate the Best of British board game - because I lost - but love Articulate, because nobody can beat Stacey and me when we team up. We are The A-Team, even if Stacey had never heard of Asterix and Obelix....

...I'm hoping some of you readers actually know who these guys are, because I'm starting to think I may be the only person I know who's actually heard of them, let alone read their adventures in Primary School.

I'll end things here, as all I did on this day - Easter Monday - was kill a day at work... Oh, and I ate some ice cream, it was Ben and Jerrie's Phish Food, and it was yummy. Um, yeah.

I Came To Play

For the last three years now, in April I've had what I like to think to myself as a 'big weekend'. A big weekend is one in which there's plenty going on, events planned, and that usually stretches into the next week. I remember back in April of '08 (which terrifyingly is 3 years ago now), on this very weekend it was jam packed to the brim! On the Friday was the release of Mario Kart Wii, which for me was a pretty big freaking deal - I still give it an occasion play even today, three years on, which must say something about that great game. Then, the Saturday night featured a house party for our friend Chris's birthday, followed by additional birthday drinks in our local Wetherspoons on the Sunday evening. This big weekend then stretched into the Monday, as I went on a double date to London, during which we wandered around Oxford Street before heading to the O2 Arena to see WWE Monday Night Raw live. Then in 2009, we had ourselves a similar weekend, although I can't quite recall nearly as well what exactly happened as I can with the wonder-year that was 2008.

Last year was probably the biggest of all, and was one that I even documented in this very blog, as things kick started on the Friday night with celebrations of Chris's 21st in what turned out to be a pretty wild night... So wild that my good buddy Pete dozed off in the middle of the night club. Classic Old Man Town! Stacey and I were then to get up early...ish after a night out to travel up North for her baby (toddler these days - they grow up so fast) cousin's naming ceremony, from which we'd travel back down on the Sunday. This was all followed on the Monday by another trip to see WWE Raw at the O2 arena on a day in which I'd also watch one of the finest films I bore witness to last year, Kick Ass. This 'big weekend' would even stretch as far as Tuesday, as I'd go to the O2 arena yet again to see WWE's other show Smackdown.

One thing's for sure, these April big weekends seem to centre around two things: My friend Chris's birthday, and going to see WWE. And, here I am, sitting here on a Sunday night, slap-bang in the middle of the 2011 version.

On Friday night, along with Stacey, Jason, Pete, and Natty, I travelled down to Portsmouth where Chris currently resides for University (three guesses as to which Uni he attends), and we spent the night there to celebrate the Old Boy's 22nd. We kicked things off in style, by ordering a Domino's and by... watching Eastenders... Come on, it was the one where Ronnie finally admits that she stole a baby, how could we not watch? After kicking things off in admittedly, maybe not so much a grand a style as I would at first boast, we did then kick things up a notch by playing some drinking games. While it was a bit of a laugh, and allowed us to persuade Chris to pull a mooney outside his front door (I have video footage of this, just ask), the problem with drinking so much before heading out was that myself, and I believe one or two others were ready to hit the hay before a taxi had even been booked. I was seriously sleepy, and would have been happy to call it a night the way I felt back then. Thankfully I managed to get perked back up, and off we went into the weird and wonderful land of Pompey. We first stopped in at an overpriced Yates bar, which came with built in soap-dispensing man - I hate those guys, I mean this guy, he actually fired soap at me in order to try and score a tip, despite me using the furthest sink, and obviously attempting to use the normal soap dispenser on the wall. After leaving Yates, Chris guided us into a gay bar. He claims this was for Pete's benefit, but I have some other theories on that matter. Anyway, this was certainly a new experience for me, and for the sake of not giving our straightness away and potentially getting kicked out (I'm assuming thems the rules), Stacey and I avoided physical contact, and it turns out we touch each other a lot - And if it's there, get your mind out of the gutter! It was in the gay bar that Jason came out... with the quote of the night, when he began frantically stating that he needed to find a chair to sit down in because he could 'feel them staring' at him. To be fair to the nervous wreck that was Jason, there was an intimidating, tall, and bald man staring at him for the entirety of the time that we spent in there.

After leaving the gay bar, which aside from the butch lesbians making out was actually a little different to how I pictured one to be, we set off to a 90s club. Due to most students in Portsmouth being back home for the holidays, the club was a little quiet, although I still enjoyed it more than a regular night club due to actually knowing/recognising/enjoying the music played. They even strayed a little from the 1990s and in the right direction, as they played several hits from the early 2000s, a time when I was first discovering my music palette. There were several people dressed up as icons from the period, and at one point, as an employee of the establishment was taking our photograph I spotted a WWE Championship belt at my feet, and as the picture was being taken hoisted the gold above my head. Unfortunately none of us remembered to buy the photo, so my moment of glory has probably been deleted from history. On the way out of the club, I went over to grab my title to leave with it, but as I went to pick it up I spotted a group of guys and girls dressed up as Hulk Hogan and John Cena among others blocking my path to the door, and putting 2 and 2 together, realised that the belt must belong to them. Fearing a suplex through a table, I chickened out and left the belt behind, and I still regret it to this day, 48 hours later.

It was after the club that things really kicked off, and a certain birthday boy may not like this part being brought up, so he'll be known as 'CJW' for the duration of the following paragraph. Most of us were feeling pretty hungry, the Domino's having evacuated our stomachs and making its way through our intestines. So we stopped off at a classy joint known by two names, Ken's Chicken/Ken's Kebabs. CJW went right up to order, while the others all sat down. I took Stacey's order and went up to order for the two of us. Jason then shouted over that he wanted to grab a doner kebab meal which consisted of a doner kebab, chips, and a can of drink for the bargain price of just £4.99. Pete had sat down next to Jason, thus Jason couldn't get out without asking Pete to get back up again, so he passed me five £1 coins and asked me to give them to CJW to order for him. I relayed the order to CJW, 'Doner Kebab Meal, with Dr Pepper for the drink' and handed him the dosh. CJW ordered and paid, and then I ordered mine and Stacey's food. As I began to eat, CJW's order of his food and Jason's was ready and placed on the counter by the friendly staff of the fine restaurant. Suddenly CJW's eyes turned to crimson as a storm began to brew. CJW began throwing a fit over how he didn't have enough money for it all, and blamed Jason for not having given enough. We tried pointing out that he'd already paid and here was the food, to which he began claiming that he had been ripped off. The end result was an upset CJW storming out of the eatery and disappearing for 10 minutes while we ate. I still don't fully understand what brought about the temper tantrum, but I believe it was something along the lines of when CJW ordered Jason's meal deal, he worded it so that he asked for a doner kebab and chips, followed after a little while with 'and a Dr Pepper', so I guess it was all just an error in communication. No big deal, but it made for a funny little story. Natty and I even went to look for him at one point when he's stormed off, but CJW had disappeared completely, hiding in an alleyway or something. I guess that's just the kind of thing that happens when you've been drinking in celebration of turning of age, you either pass out as I did last year; fall over and crack your head open as Stacey's brother did; or storm out of a wannabe KFC at 2am over a doner kebab and a can of Dr Pepper. Happy Birthday CJW, and thanks for all the laughs and all the memories!

This currently-in-progress 'big weekend' doesn't feel as big for some reason though. Maybe last year's was too big. Maybe it was because there were only six of us down in Portsmouth (although I doubt this as we still had a very entertaining time). Maybe I'm just getting old. Oh God! No, I think the real reason is that I kind of derailed the whole thing today by having work. I'm appreciative of the hours if you're reading this boss, buy man was it a quiet day. The sun was out and no one came into the store. Then when I finished at 5 it decided to cloud over a little... Great! It wasn't too bad, it just killed my momentum a little. Saturday was pretty good though, the six of us from the night before went wandering around Portsmouth, eating an oriental buffet lunch, and looking around various outlets. I discovered an awesome store called The Works, which seems to sell various cool bits'n'bobs for low, low prices. I was even talked into trying on some designer jeans in FCUK by Stacey and Natty, and in the shocker of the year, I wound up parting with £25 on clothes - although Stacey did chip in as she was so happy to see me actually spending on such a product, cheers sweetie! Now, I've never been one for expensive designer clothes, and have always felt/assumed that you're only paying for a label, however, when I tried on these FCUK jeans, I could literally feel the difference between those and my regular non-designer pairs. They felt more comfortable, and as if they'd last longer. Plus they were on sale at £25 down from £55! Check me, maybe I should auditon for Sex and the City 3 after all.

Enough with the fashion talk, I'm scaring even myself. Tomorrow comes the final day of my big weekend. And once again I'm heading to the O2 Arena to see the TV taping of WWE Raw. As of yet, nothing has been announced for the show, which has me questioning whether it will be as good as shows I've been to in the past or not. It could go either way with nothing at all announced, as you have no idea what to expect from a WWE show. It could be the a bigger flop than CJW's brewer's droop was on Friday night, or they could put on the most spectacular show ever seen. All I can do is anticipate for now, and in 24 hours, those questions will have been answered and I'll most likely write about it.

That'll do me for the evening, as I've been writing for quite a while and fancy some reading before bed. I'm currently reading Ozzy Osbourne's autobiography and a 50 pages in can safely say that it's better than expected. The stories he's had to tell are more than fascinating, and so far he's not even formed Black Sabbath. I've read of bar fights, imprisonment, and self tattooing so far in the book, yet for me the part that's made me smile the most is of learning that there are more human beings in the world that eat pickled eggs. Ozzy Osbourne eats them! Seriously, I eat them, Stacey eats them, as does her cousin, and that seems to be it. People seem to be scared to try them. Next time you're down you're local chippy have them throw a pickled egg in with your cod and chips - you won't regret it!

'Have a Nice Day!'

In my head I'm telling myself that this will be a short entry, but then I know full well these days that when I sit down here and start tap-tap-tapping away at these keys in front of me that I can end up going on and on and on. So I guess we'll see.

This entry's title could be referring to the fact that I'm at the tail end of what has been an extremely pleasant Sunday off. A much needed Sunday off, after feeling half dead at work on Saturday, following which I participated in a round of Pub Golf. Thankfully I woke up this morning right as rain, with only a dry mouth to contend with, oh, and the realisation that an hour has been stolen from me... Damn daylight savings! I spent my pleasant Sunday watching movies - Megamind and Unstoppable - and going for a lovely stroll around the currently under renovation park in my town. There's some pretty cool stuff happening in my town it turns out, and to steal a line from my boss, and friend Sarah: 'It is becoming the new Miami Beach... sort of'.

Alas no, this blog title is not to do with that. It is in fact the title of the first book written by Mick Foley. I mentioned in my last blog entry that I'd read and enjoyed Mr. Foley's latest book Countdown to Lockdown. I also happened to mention my enjoyment of the book on Twitter. Well, Mick Foley actually read my tweet, and better yet he sent me a response in the form of a private message on Twitter.

That's right, he sent me a thank you message. It may have only been two words and an exclamation mark, but still, that's more than I'd have expected. Especially since what I expected was nothing at all. I think that was really cool of Mick, and I can tell you that it made my day even brighter to read that message. Those twelve characters that Foley directed to me brought a smile to my face. Thank you Mick!

That day (Friday) had already been a pretty good one. I'd enjoyed my day at work - what's wrong with me? - and took home my shiny new 3DS. I can happily report to all of you out there reading this in Internetland that Nintendo's new handheld gizmo is indeed the real deal. The glasses-free 3D actually works a treat, and is well worth the cash considering the tech you get for your buck! I got a little nerdy during my Friday evening, as I spent some of the night playing Street Fighter in 3D over the internet against my friends Jemma and Chris who also bought 3DSs and copies of Street Fighter for themselves. I won some, and I lost some, but the important thing was, I had fun! Not that I needed Street Fighter mind, as the console also comes loaded with some pretty wacky, crazy, and fun-filled games preinstalled. Face Raiders is one of the most insane things I've ever seen, and automatically became one of my favourite games ever out of pure uniqueness. It all has to be seen - or rather played - to be believed!

In between all the 3D mayhem and messages from legends, Friday was also my brother Ben's 16th birthday, so I guess I'd better mention that, and reiterate a Happy Birthday to him.... OK I think that's enough on that topic.

Just Kidding! Hope you had a great time bruv!

I think I'll wrap things up now for this entry into James World by briefly mentioning that I had a pretty cool idea on Friday, an idea that given time, patience, perseverance, and some hard work is one that I feel could be rather rewarding. Only time will tell though....

Oh, and one last thing (I promise), after discussing 30 Seconds to Mars in my last entry, immediately after posting the blog, I saw their latest video for Hurricane. It is a 15 minute long video, just like Michael Jackson's Thriller was. Even more proof that they can be the next big thing, although the video is rather risque... Give it a watch on Youtube, see the bizarreness for yourself.

I'm outta here!