Seeing Red

The title wrote itself.

After being beaten by RGS and a further three schools in the UKMT Team Challenge – though, granted, we beat local rivals Whitley Bay High by 9 points, which softens the blow – I went to the cinema with Niall! Bobby took us in his lovely little Corsa, although this meant having to endure Saskia too.

The film we saw was entitled RED, hence this post's title. Any film starring Morgan Freeman, Bruce Willis, John Malkovich and Helen Mirren, must be good. Add to that its origin in DC Comics, and suddenly it is brilliant.

Right, enough waffle, goodnight!

Going with the flow.

Today, I made myself a flowchart on my whiteboard, with coding, multiple loops and a few of my Perl moves to boot. I do enjoy a good bit of Perl. This isn't just any flowchart, though. This flowchart has a time-frame of 11 weeks, several variables, four real-world processes – each of which can have up to 6 contextual meanings, dependent on the variables – and reiterative loops, as I said.

Besides being a good geek, I had to fill my day with some regular person stuff, so I went to a decent party, saw some people I hadn't seen in months, some I hadn't seen in years, as well as Niall, Stevo, Bobby, Ben, Saskia and Tom, all of whom I hadn't seen for a few days.

So, after reiterations, recreation and reminiscence, it's time for bed. Night froods!

Crime and Punishment

It was a dark February night. Three young men were walking home after a day's shopping, but this does not make them any less heterosexual. Suddenly, a moron leaps out from behind a hedge, runs at the most handsome of the three boys, swings unsuccessfully for his head, gets behind him and puts him into a headlock. After struggling with the drunken fool, Robin James – that's the handsome one I was telling you about – broke free and walked briskly away from him. It was at this point when Niall – at least in the top three of the most handsome of the lads – politely asked the moron what he thought he was playing at. The moron – lacking the ability to communicate with intelligence ‐ responded to this perfectly reasonable question with a well-aimed right hook, followed by a unsportsmanlike knee to the ribs. Somewhat satisfied with this display of stupidity, the degenerate stood back and observed Niall's cowering. Following this, the three desirable young gentlemen stepped up their pace, putting considerable distance between themselves and the assailant.

Alas, this was not the finale of the incident, for the drunkard tailed the boys down the street. During this pursuit, Niall phoned the police whilst bleeding from a cut above his left eye. Before long the idiot had regained his previous aggression and sprinted towards the trio, throwing his fist at the back of Robin's head, missing only due to the agility of the handsome adolescent, who ducked, sensing the oncoming fist. At this point, Bobby ran, followed by Niall and Robin, unperturbed until reaching Niall's house some 500m away. Half an hour passed before the police pulled up outside the house, at the same instant that Stig of the Dump crawled past, presumably still looking for a fight. The police arrested him immediately.

Today, justice was delivered, as, finally, the imbecile rekindled some dignity by pleading guilty.

Gluttony and Three-legged Races

For me, Sunday mornings mean heading down to Tynemouth Rowing Club; as you may already know.
Again, as you might know, both Bobby and Niall are ill. I row when I'm ill! I went to a regatta when I was ill.

Nevertheless, I got down to rowing, courtesy of the ever brilliant Michael, and spent several upcoming hours not rowing, but, instead, babysitting Saskia. It's not all that bad, really. We did do some brilliant three-legged racing, however, it'll be nice when Bob's back on his feet; he's much better at looking after her. Bless 'em. So cute!

Back to superficial matters: I ate a burger and a sausage at the post-rowing barbecue. Yes peeps, October barbecue. I later ate my entire Sunday dinner. I have a big Sunday dinner. Loads of mashed potato.

Right, enough monologic drivel. Exeunt.

Drugs are so cheap.

Seriously, right, ibuprofen are really quite brilliant drugs. Headache? No bother. Cold? It'll take the symptoms down. Depressed? 150 of them will set you back maybe £2.50, and, well...

Obviously, no store would let you buy this many at once, but how hard would it really be to go into, I don't know, 5 stores? 2 packets in each.

Anyway, on a cheery, less hypothetical-suicide-related note, I finally got myself a copy of the local newspaper News Guardian in which my story and photograph were printed. Again – as if I don't mention the sexy dudes enough – I'd like to draw attention to fellow rowing heat-winners Bobby, Niall and Tom. Go guys! In fact, if you really love Niall – and why wouldn't you? – you can read what he has to say about games, films and stuff on his blog.

So, that's today: benzene rings and newspaper things. Tomorrow promises to be similarly – if not more so – disappointing.

Night fellas!

Il pleut encore!

Tout d'abord, je voudrais vous afficher cet histoire d'un journal local au sujet de mes amis au club du rowing. Il y a même un photo de nous: le Bobby infaillible, moi-même, le joli Niall et le fou Tom. Et le vieux dans le pic? C'est le chair-man légendaire s'appelle Chris.

Ce soir, j'ai attendu un événement célébrant les projets comme l'un qui j'ai fait pendant l’été. C’était pas mal. Rentrant chez moi, il pleut beaucoup encore. Le semaine dernière, il pleut jeudi. Je suis désolé; une semaine, je écrirai en français au sujet de quelque chose au lieu de la pluie.

Donc, c'est le fin de jeudi français.

Tynemouth Triumph/Sculling Success

Today's rowing regatta in Durham was utterly fantastic. It was thoroughly enjoyable; all the Tynemouth Rowing Club crews rowed well, picking up countless second places.

However, our 4X+ novice crew – the infallible Bobby in stroke, the enigmatic Tom in three, the handsome Niall in two, and myself in bow – was the best crew as we won our first ever regatta race!

Unfortunately, that first race was a heat, and, by winning it, we had to compete in the final against some not-so-novice machine-like athletes from Tyne United. Beating them really was impossible: despite rowing much better than we did in the heat, we still fell at least a boat's length behind.

The words "Durham Today/Argh!" and "We Won!" are now written in large friendly letters on my whiteboard, and will be for days to come.

Today really was brilliant - I even had a bacon sandwich, and I'm now eating custard. Good night folks! Have a great day.