Friday, 29 August 2008

A Rolling Stone Should Be Prime Minister.

I remember watching an episode of mock the week a few weeks ago that mentioned David Cameron would not be a change and the only way we would ever experience an actual change was if someone like Vin Diesel was the Prime Minister.

Personally I would vote for Keith Richards. Fact.

I was watching the news earlier and they were talking about John McCain being Seventy something today, 70. Here’s me worrying about being 25, he’s running for presidency at the age of seventy something. What’s that about.

I’m not trying to be funny but why hasn’t he retired yet? And why is he even being considered. When my Grandpa was in his seventies he would eat porridge in the morning, take his teeth out and put them on his dinner plate, fall asleep while eating, and he actually couldn’t talk all that well, on top of that he would re-account TV programmes from the 50s and try and find them on TV in the 90s. To be fair he did have two strokes, but still. John McCain is old. What’s with that?

So, I might try and encourage one of the rolling stones to run for Prime MInister, if Gordon Brown ever hands the country back to the people and stops his reign of un-elected terror.

I’ve been listening to the Rolling stones for most of today and for a large part of yesterday. I then hopped in the car to go get some coco pops and I just shoved the radio on to Rock Radio, which was playing the Stones. What are the odds. I swear Rock Radio is actually just my iPod on random. I love it. I hate the ads, but I love the tunes.

Yesterday was just aquatic chaos, I only did 1300m or something like that. The pool was too busy, and it was just getting stupid, so I couldn’t do backstroke and I couldn’t really crawl properly because I had to keep looking ahead of me incase I clobbered someone.

Here are the stats regardless:

200m Front Crawl
200m Breast stroke
200m Front Crawl Legs
200m Front Crawl Paddles
200m Breast Stroke Paddles
200m Front Crawl
25m Breast Stroke
25m Front Crawl Sprint
50m Swim Down

Total: 1300m Time: About 40 minutes.

And that’s about it.

I downloaded a programme today called MacJournal, and hopefully it will cut some time when I’m writing blogs and it might also help with my bad spelling haha. Anyway, I just pushed a button on the programme that said ‘Full Screen’ And it made my screen black and the text bright green... it looks like a totally old school computer, like that scene at the end of ‘Stand by me’ when the author dude is all, ‘I never had any friends later in life like I did when I was twelve.’

‘Does anyone.’

And then I go off and take my 14 year old daughter and her friend to the swimming pool. This is totally freaky, I actually do feel like that author character. Mega.


Violin lesson went amazingly well... and I can’t remember if i blogged about Manchester convention yet.

I don’t think I did, that pretty much went okay, actually let me check and see if I already wrote about it.

Not at all.

Okay. So last Friday Sandy Brown and I decided to Road Trip it to Manchester and pitch up hefty late for the YSA convention.

This made it my fourth year in a row and I was a bit terrified to go because I didn’t have a best friend. I know plenty of people but I just needed to know someone would be there to go to early morning breakfast or to walk to the dance or church together.

Alas, I had to do these things on my own, but once I got there I would see people that i knew so it was fine.

It’s strange that if I was going somewhere that I knew no one I would probably have been more confident, but because I knew I was probably going to have to leech on to people that I didn’t know wholly then I was a bit more intimidated and that’s why I didn’t bother sending in my form any soon.

Regardless, Sandy Brown and I boosted to Manchester and I got the last available female room. Talk about timing. The weekend was pretty amazing, and really liberating. It reminded me of all the many many amigos and amigas that I have in the country of Great Britain and Ireland.

Ben ‘The Stallion’ Gabbitas was there, and many a laugh was shared. The sneaky appearance of Dave ‘The Ginger’ Oliver was mighty exciting as well. I snuck off to the curry mile with Dave and his ginger cohorts on the Sunday night/Monday morning. Usually I count the Sabbath from when I wake up to when I go to bed, but at convention they always do it 12 - 12. So I just followed their ruling for that weekend.

General highlights was telling a black man that I have two k’s in my name because i’m a borderline racist, learning how to power slap an attacker from a Glaswegian living in England because his Dad tried to stab him, learning how to street dance (I am so hip), watching Tom ‘The Awesome’ Hooker counter-strike a bigoted testimony, getting hugs from Dave ‘The Ginger’ Oliver, telling Tom Arber that a raging gamer is hunting him down in all the Arby’s restaurants in the US, walking faster than a random guy while I was wearing high heels (I can wear, dancing to jazz music with Ben and Dan, eating breakfast with a visor on and chatting to Jackson and Danny, seeing Lucas and wanting to pulverise him for and on behalf of McBride, seeing Stacie, hanging with the amazing Richardsons, going to Robert Richardson’s CES class... that very well might be it. Oh and I met David Hooson again, I thought he had gotten married, not at all, he’d been on his mission.

This week has consisted of working on Tuesday, finishing the week’s work on Tuesday, and spending Wednesday violin-ing it up, starting Mark’s sister’s poetry book and swimming... oh and visiting teaching.

Today was all about the cocopops, murder she wrote and the Chihuahuas. But that’s another blog. Because today is Seven.

‘Anybody seen my baby...’

1 comment:

hooson said...

How poignantly coincidental... I was mentioned in an entry written on my birthday!