By Any Other Name

I've ordered pasta from Pizza Hut. I've had pizzas from Shire Chippy. I've drank lemonade made by Coca-Cola. When I eat a Mars bar, I don't expect red rocks or the bringer of war. I have never yet expected intelligent conversation from Smarties.

If I pick up The Sun in the morning, I don't expect to burn myself, nor to find it incredibly massive and one astronomical unit away. I don't expect to have The Daily Mail delivered daily, nor the Express to run faster than the rest. The Guardian does not watch over me, and neither does The Observer see what I'm doing. I have never yet expected The Times to be a world clock.

This was going to be a lot longer and cover more than food and newspapers, but since the notion against which I was attempting to make a point is increasingly rearing its ugly head, I must endeavour to spread the word as quickly as possible.

Yes, "Marvel Avengers Assemble" is an idiotic name for anything but an action figure collection, or one of those overpriced collect-one-piece-each-week magazines, but, really, who gives a fuck? It's just a name.

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.

[I forgot to give this a title; I realized 04102010]

So, after feeling all fit and exasperated yesterday, I'm feeling much more ill and exhausted today. Some fool has given me yet another serotype of human rhinovirus and it's taken all physical strength out of me. Thanks some fool! Although, I think it's 30-something down, 69-minus-something to go for total immunity to the common cold, and this'll make it 30-something-and-one. Excellent!

Nevertheless, my mind and fingers are still working at their usual full capacity, and, hence, I've drafted an article about yesterday's rowing regatta which the News Guardian will hopefully be printing on Thursday. If you want to know how that turns out, you'll either have to get the newspaper or have to learn French.

Now, I'm finishing writing today's post after a long battle with my laptop. It seems it caught my cold, bless it, but trying to fix it with alternate medicines gave it amnesia and an inferiority complex that could only be resolved by rebuilding the entire thing. So, I am now essentially connecting to the interweb through a brand new laptop! It's analogous to the way the TARDIS rebuilds itself across series, and is possibly only through the ingenuity of Ubuntu Linux. Windows rebuilds are pathetically long-winded, and almost certainly result in a loss of files and the will to live.

Anyway, I now have to manually set up all the nifty tricks I used to have, ahead of the scheduled rebuild I was planning for Ubuntu 10.10 next month. Night froods!

To be a rock and not to roll.

And so, with three weeks to go until the deadline for UCAS applications to Cambridge, my personal statement is still leaving something to be desired. That something just so happens to be a personal statement.

I made a start on it, but, seriously, do they want modesty and showmanship, personality and humility? I can do all kinds of things with words^†, but writing a personal statement truly is a challenge.

Anyway, tonight was Alex's first gig! It was awesome - the band played some right good tunes. Not left good, but right good. Led Zeppelin, ZZ Top, ACDC, Fleetwood Mac, loads more, and even 2 4 6 8 Motorway.

Tomorrow, that formidable regatta in Durham. I'd best get some kip before the 0700 rise. Oh, and I've committed myself to writing a newspaper article about it. Stay tuned!

^†Read my earlier post featuring An extract from Rijako