Monday, 30 May 2011

5 things that make me happy

1) Coffee houses; some people find it frivolous to spend £3 on a cup of coffee, but every Starbucks I enter is like a house of calm in the middle of chaos.  The chairs are comfortable, the d├ęcor is classy and the soothing music adds to the general relaxation I feel just entering the building. Plus, they make the best coffee in the world.
2) Fresh laundry; there is nothing better than just washed sheets straight off the line. It's the only reason I like the sun as being of the Celtic complexion I find all sunlight poisonous.
3) Rain; Some people hate it, but personally I love it when the heavens open and pour down on me. Now obviously I don't like being drenched when it's windy, cold and I'm waiting for a train that just happens to choose that moment to be delayed, but when it's bright outside and I have time on my hands walking around in the rain can be really relaxing. It makes everything smell so fresh and natural, I just love the rain pelting down on me and reminding me how great nature can be when you stop to enjoy it.
4) The smell of freshly baked bread; I love this so much that at least once a week I bake a loaf of bread just to have the smell of it in the house. I like the bread too obviously, but the smell of home baking really makes a house feel like a home to me.
5) Comedy shows; I basically have a limit of how much doom and gloom I can take each day. This is why I read the newspaper in the morning when I'm barely awake and the true horror of Britain can be easily forgotten by the time I have my afternoon coffee. After a stressful day I couldn't imagine sitting down to watch something serious, I'd honestly have to blow my brains out after a week.
That is if I wouldn't end up on an endless rush hour train journey.

Friday, 27 May 2011

Hell, thy name is public transport

To all you atheists out there who believe that when we're dead we become worm food I beg you to take a train before 9am. One journey during morning rush hour will scare you out of your wicked ways and into the arms of your nearest priest as, believe me, you will quickly realise that public transport is God's way of telling us "hell is real, here's a sliver of it to prove it". 
Stepping into that over crowded carriage the first thing you will notice is the distinct lack of personal space. You push through to find your own segment of floor, hands appear from nowhere, souls that have been trapped here long before you got on crying out at the discomfort of it all, oh the hands appear from nowhere begging for mercy and don't be surprised if some stray into your 'personal space'. Groping is what got them into hell in the first place.
Even though you can see frost on the outside of the windows inside the train is like being stood on the sun. You loosen the scarf that you so needed when you left the house this morning. There's no room to move so taking off your coat would be impossible. You stand there, hot and sweaty, pretending to use your mobile when really you're counting how long you have left until you can go down a litre of ice water. Having worked out the remaining time you decide to visit a social networking site, maybe tweet to warn your followers of what really happens at this time of morning, but oh no. There's no signal in hell. Deflated you return your mobile to your pocket and concentrate on your journey.
Another station and another group of people join your moving torture, with them they bring more unpleasantness, you're poked and jabbed until you give up your space and squash down the aisle. The floor beneath has begun moving and your balance is off. You narrowly avoid landing on that man's lap and find yourself squashed behind a business man who's at least two foot taller than you. Forgot the B.O. you heard about, you are faced with something much worse; the stench of too much generic label deodorant. The fumes reach up your nose and proceed to scratch out your throat. You choke trying to find a new air source, but alas the person behind you has forgotten to take their considerate pill this morning and you can't move an inch.
Then, after what seems like a lifetime, your prayers are answered. The train pulls into the station and after the deafening screech of the wheels against the track you are free. Free to join a Church and take driving lessons to avoid ever doing that again.

Monday, 23 May 2011

Rain, wind and 1000 word reports

Another Monday, another week started and another load of coursework landed in-front of me today. To anybody reading this who'll be starting a college course next year; they're not saying it for fun, you really do have to do all that work. There's no magical coursework fairy.

One of my favourite college pass times is watching old  cartoons with my college friends, there's nothing better than group nostalgia to lighten a Monday afternoon. Re-watching episodes of Courage the Cowardly Dog and Goosebumps really shows how low the censorship was back then. It's like they all sat around in the ideas office wondering how they could scare the crap out of kids, and it worked! Hell I felt scared just reading those Goosebumps books!
While I'm talking about this, what was going on with CatDog? I mean seriously, how much dope do you have to smoke before you come up with THAT as an idea pitch for a cartoon? Speaking of pot head cartoon writers, the new Family Guy cartoons are pretty decent. Less flair than the original series, but that's to be expected. However, the new series of The Cleveland Show is coming along nicely. In fact I'm enjoying it so much I've actually series linked it on my Sky Plus box. I might as go for the MacFarlane ha trick here and mention some good old American Dad, probably my favourite of the three.

So there you go, one blog entry in and I've already revealed that I never truly grew up because all my favourite shows are mainly cartoons. Got a problem with that? Well you can just suck my balls.

Saturday, 21 May 2011

A warm mug of welcome to you!

Hello! Welcome here to my blog, get yourself comfortable because you're about to indulge in some (hopefully) quality literacy.

Thanks for taking the time to check in, I'll post more soon.

F. Hurley