CHROM-E-HOTEL-U-WHATS-HAPPENING

hey, uni is going mental, there is only a few weeks left until assessment and ive become really skint.

went manchester again earlier this week to see chromeo play.



jamie had sushi in the car on the way up. i had some biscuits where each biscuit was 18% of your daily sat fats. i finished the pack and felt brilliant.




we got to our hotel and there was a shoe cleaning thing. how the fuck are you living then?




mandatory check in on x factor before heading out.




chromeo were really good, they played tunes off all three albums. we got there just in time for when they started, so it was pretty cool. everyone was in a really good mood, singing along and shit. ive just read that the guy on the left is currently earning his Ph.D in french literature from columbia university. pretty good innit.

went to some club after, we asked some locals where an indie music club was, and they pointed us here. outside the door it was described as an indie club. we got in and within 10 minutes had already heard nirvana and papa roach. brilliant.

a really good chunk of the night's fun happened back at our hotel. we were playing a game where you had to do a static jump from the foot of the bed and hit your head on the headboard. we were giving the game added meaning by saying like 'your family is going to get slaughtered in the night if you dont reach the board'.

it was a right laugh as pictured.

also, we were doing forward flips. max was incredible at this, from standing still to making clear air between him and the bed.

jamie couldnt get it at first but then got a bit better.

i found this on the little room cleaners kart thing in the morning. they must have rescued it from a room. ive just looked at that picture and thought i have no idea where it was, or what it might have got covered in the night before. shouldnt have been touching it really.

weasel.

i felt so fucked the next morning.

so we got a little mcdonalds drive through style!

about an hour later, we all went to some country pub and had some proper food. we sat there for fucking ages just chilling and chatting, we were all pure tired. me and max both had mashandick, jamie had a chicken roast and george had a beef roast.

i drew louie walsh in the salt on the table. jamie told me off, and reminded me that we were not in the soar point.

'SLOB FOX'. i would love to know the thinking behind this number plate.

here are some drawings max did on his birthday, monday. notice the top one is by max aged 25, and the second one is by max aged 26.

i fucking hate this emma watson bitch. i dont get why bare lads are obsessed with her. her face is ok, but thats about it really isnt it? and now she has a dykes hair cut it cheapens that. personally, if i wanted to fuck a 12 year old boy, i would just fuck a 12 year old boy. fuck her, overrated twat.

a new barber shop has opened up on wilberforce road. as you can see, it looks amazing.

valena made a lovely little shepherds pie for dinner the other night. in bulgaria they have toast with everthing, and whenever she cooks, she offers me some. i always say yes, and i wouldnt be more right in doing so. its a relatively british custom to have bread and butter with dinner, next time try toast. they are getting it right.

these shit biscuits were "half price" at £6.00. that means the RRP before reduction must have been £12.00. (thats maths by the way). i cant help but feel that someone is lying about the original price. this is in the tesco around the corner from work. there is a young man who works there who i cant fucking stand.

he is about 22-25, in a slightly about the bottom role, but he has fully let it go to his head, in the gareth keenan style. he has the shittest, most irrelevant moustache. he is so drippy, always talking in a really annoying voice and never offers me a bag, regardless of how much i have bought. i always want one. i never want to ask. i have one every week, you would think he would have cottoned on by now.

the sun is the best. naked, but wearing a skimpy dress.

looooooool at this on the wall of the SU. me and valena were there for a burlesque show fund raiser for our end of year degree show. it was a strange thing, like attending a strip club with your girlfriend, but you know most of the dancers.

besides that, its a fucking joke, even though every single student on the course has paid the uni at least £9,000 over the three years, they cannot cough up a few hundred pounds to give us a degree show.

so through this, they are making us go out and earn it through fund raisers. its fucking bollocks, im not at all interested in a degree show, or fucking a fucking graduation for that matter, the uni is a joke, the whole set up is laughable. cant wait to finish my degree and never have to bother with it.

on a lighter note i went for dinner at my sisters last night. she got carried away again. home made chicken kievs stuffed with homemade salsa and cheese, roasted Mediterranean vegetables and baby new potatoes. dinner was wonderful. i forgot to get a picture of the meal, so this zoomed in photo i took of never mind the buzzcocks will have to do.

i got some pictures of kyle to put up, and we are going to do another podcast soon. i hope you have enjoyed reading.

MCBUMPER*

here is a little comic strip i made for uni. based on true life events. click the image to enlarge it so you can read whats going on, i hope you enjoy it.

SOME CELEBS I DISLIKE*

RONALDO


PATTINSON



WALSH



PATTINSON



WEST



BOYLE

COLE

gonna post a comic i drew up soon. cheers for watching.

DAN OUT, JEREMY IN

hello, ive been off uni all week, and a lot has been happening. i turned chinese, and some other stuff.





for a sort of last supper the night before the day dan flew out to new zealand, a few of us went for a peri peri. you could cut the tension with a knife, nobody was saying a great deal.




it was a brilliant success.



darryl was straight up thugging on tuesday night. it was really dead, they kicked out the dj on the floor below us, and moved us down, it was so so quiet.




a leicester tigers player, manu tuilagi was out on the tuesday. he was outside just after closing grabbing up this little blonde slice that was all over him. he is 20. fuck his massive physique.



there was a massive bloke with the gruffest voice talking to me, frank and jimlad telling us to 'keep it real' and to 'share the love'. glad he eventually fucked out. he was shouting at girls and that.



we have got a cheap, shit, fake jagermeister at work. made me loooooool. at the time i didnt think of some corner shop selling it which seems far more plausible. i thought of them serving it in a bar instead of the real stuff. ha ha



this shit fucking pisses me off in the paper on wednesday. fuck the article, i dont give a fuck if there is a catch and its not what it seems, ill just read the headline and make assumptions. why not use condoms? or the pill? or a coil? fuck off and get the fuck out of my paper.



wednesday night me, john, jamie and max gathered to watch the very dull manchester derby. we made the skittles milkshake things and really enjoyed it. shit was cool as fuck.


MANCHESTER - TO WATCH JEREMY KYLE GET FILMED.

well max dropped out of going, and bradley had four tickets. i was on the subs bench, and got brought into it and that was it.


the weather was beyond dreadful on the way up. i enjoy georges car. he has his ipod on shuffle and has a lot of music i enjoy but dont hear very often. i like being in cars, not talking and listening to music quiet loud.

there was an odd roadside billboard for a book on being safe. on the left of it is a picture of a man attacking a woman. it is hailed as 'the book that counts', apparently available from all good book shops. i have no idea as to the contents of it.

some shop had about 4 or 5 signs above its door for different business's operating out of the building.

WHAAAAY!!!!!!! it was fucking huge. a huge building purposefully built to booker. it was massive.

we got to the studio and had a little briefing with a member of the crew. he was a very funny young lad who just took the piss out of jeremy and the show its self. we got lead down and seated.

the floor director was warming the crowd up cracking a few jokes and that, and asked the ladies in the audience who fancied jeremy the most. sure enough a girl bit the bait and got lead down to the stage. after answering a couple of questions about what she might say faced with jeremy, he casually strolled over and took a seat next to her.

he was right in her space, asking her like what she liked about him and this and that, the whole time, dead straight faced.

he did a sort of weird stand up routine for about 20 minutes before filming started. going round the crowd and chatting to and picking on people. by pure chance he spoke to bradley, notifying that 'he had put on a few pounds since his s-club 7 days'.

it was almost surreal, because he had a really cutting sense of humour. he was fully emerged in his character. seeing that i was laughing at his joke on brad he turned to me, and called me dolph lundgren and quizzed me about what i do in my spare time and if im single or not. i also got prince harry before he moved on. ha ha.

the show wore on, and was shot in more or less one take. every interval he turned to bradley and asked if he was doing ok, and if everything was ok. he took a shine to him. it was really funny, he was such a funny guy, who it seemed behind the scenes is, in on the joke. like before one couple came out on stage he mouthed to the audience 'this is the one...' as if to say these are the sort of tramps you see on the show.

as the show wore on, we got more and more into jeering and this and that. we started boo's, big claps, and kept shouting out words at the tramps on stage, fingers crossed, when its aired you will hear us.

the five chairs were lined up for a five way lie detector regarding a missing bracelet. in the part where they cut to adverts jeremy took a seat on the steps. he looked at me, with the 5 people lined up in the seats behind him talking to the crew members and mouthed to me who i thought stole it, numbering the guests 1-5. i said 3, he was apposed.

when the next segment was underway, and he unveiled that the mother (number 3) passed the lie detector and did not steal the bracelet the crowd went into a shower of applause. with this, and the revealing of the truth, he turned round and stared at me, raising his eye brows as if to say 'i told you so'. it was so odd, and enjoyable.

it was a fucking wicked day, and honestly he was so so funny. on one part, he did his start-of-show audience lap and got to the end and turned to where to camera was meant to be, and it was 2 yards to the left. he cut the shot and complained to a bloke about it not being where he said it would be.

the bloke replied that 'maybe the fact that there is a 6 foot tele camera slightly to the left would be a clue?'. everyone laughed. jeremy replied 'yes, funny aren't you terry? i bet your wife finds you funny; oh wait, she divorced you a fortnight ago.' some of his jokes were so so carried.

i come away with a completely changed opinion on him. he really enjoyed the fact that us lads on the back row were jeering and getting into it, and had frequent chats with us. he was funny, and it became apparent that he gets that the show is just a freak show, and didnt take his work too seriously, its a character act. for the first time ever, i revoke calling him a wasteman.

on a side note, a trampy son of a person on the show was sat in the crowd for one section next to this girl. after going off, the floor director brought out a scrap of paper with the lads number on it. everyone laughed and that when word got around. i made sure i got the girl after to get the number off her, gonna get valena to prank the number pretending to be her.

puuure big man mcdonalds on the way back. i love mcdonalds so so so much.

mandatory piss break.

i hope you have enjoyed this entry. all things going to plan and i should have a busy little wickedland schedule next week. thankyou for reading!