I met Florence.

Who's Florence, you might ask? When did I meet her? Was she hot? All will be revealed in this week's exciting episode ooooofff..."Kushan could be fucked updating his LJ!".

This week, a friend of mine from Ireland decided to come over. No, he didn't really come to see me, there was a gig on near me and he wanted to go to that and figured he could shack up at my place for a couple of days. Which is fair enough, actually, since he took me with him.

The gig in question was some NME tour thing, sadly nothing of interest to me but what the hell, it's an excuse to go out with a friend for a laugh, eh?

Four bands were playing this night, buy my friend only really wanted to see one of them, Florence and The Machine. You may have heard of her (yes, her). I certainly hadn't, but Sylvia Patterson of the guardian believes that "Florence and the Machine's mad art-pop will be 2009's most beautiful noise". To be fair, she's actually quite hot, so I can't blame the guy:

Luckily she was the first act, so once she had played her set, we could fuck off to the bar near the stage, get a drink and sit down and have a yarn while the rest played.
As I'm the non-drinker, I was the one who decided where to sit and I strategically found a place that was just far enough away that you could hear each other talk over the music and there weren't too many people around (My friend Becky is absolutely correct - people are shit).

So there we are having a drink and a laugh and then my friend asks "Should we not sit somewhere else, maybe over there where there's more people?". I tell him I'm not really arsed.
Then, not more than a few minutes after he said this, guess who of all people walked passed our table to a little spot in the corner? That's right - Florence.

He's a little bit shocked at this point and it didn't help when I said "Dude! Go get her autograph!".
"I err...ahh...ummm...I don't have a pen!" he shouted.
"...I have one!" I shouted back. And this is possibly the most shocking event of the whole eventing - I never have a pen when I need one.
"Oh oh oh oh! Umm...shit...I'll never get passed the bouncer [standing in front of her little corner]" he says.
"Pussy. I'll do it then." I respond.
"Ummm...ok, here" and he handed me the pen and his ticket to hopefully get signed.

So up I get and casually walk over to the bouncer, "Any chance of an autograph, mate?"
He looks behind him at Florence and says "Off her? .....why don't you go ask her?" and steps aside.
Excellent.

So I walked over to Florence and introduced myself. She was lovely. "Could I have an autograph, please?" I asked. "Certainly! What's your name?"
Since this was really for my friend, I had to lie. "Oh, uhh...Martin".
"Martin, eh? Ohhh where are you from?"
"Belfast" (Remember, I currently live in Liverpool, so I certainly don't sound like the locals...thankfully)
"Ohhh, Belfast? Hey, come you over here and talk to me" she says as she moves to sit down and sign the ticket.
At this point, my friend must have suddenly got a bolt of courage, as he appeared right next to me.
"Well, actually Florence, my name isn't really Martin. THIS is Martin, he was just too shy to come over here" I said, while pointing at him.
She smiled "Oh so YOU'RE Martin! Aren't you cute!" she said, as she latched on to him and gave him a great big hug.
And then we stood around had a bit of a chat, got his picture taken with her, had a bit of a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I think I still have some of her glitter on my face.
Florence is lovely. I wish her all the success in the world, she was extremely nice to us and definitely seems to deserve it. And her music wasn't bad, either.

Suffice to say, my friend was (and still is) over the moon. And I'm happy I had balls when I needed it. I am officially a man now.

God. Fucking. Dammit.

http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/01/090126082343.htm?ref=aggre_pop

"Frequent Sex And Masturbation In 20s And 30s Linked To Higher Prostate Cancer".

Life. She's a cruel mistress.

Tru.dat

Resident Evil: Degeneration

I just finished watching Resident Evil: Degeneration. Those of you who know me well know that I have nothing but contempt for the Resident Evil films, however this is different. This is a CGI film from Capcom themselves, not Paul "will shit on your franchise for money" fucking Anderson.

And it ROCKS.

It's pretty much how I wanted the Resident Evil film to be - lots of zombies, lots of shooting and a plot that actually comes from the game. The animation is a bit screwy, it's not Disney-quality we're talking, but when you're mowing down Zombies all over the shop, do you care if the jaws look like they're made of play-dough? Ok well, maybe a little.

I should warn you, though, if you're not an old-school Resident Evil fan (As in, you actually liked the first games and not just the fourth one, which to be fair is also pretty awesome), you probably wont get half of the fan pleasing in it. Particularly if you've played Resident Evil 2, you'll love it. I must point out that RE2 is one of THE finest games ever made and if you disagree, you're gay. Or straight. Whatever is the most offensive to you. Oh and you have the bad AIDS.

I should go to bed.

But I wont.

Also, Nip/Tuck is awesome. It's going to fill the void quite nicely once Battlestar Galactica finishes this year. I must point out that BSG is probably the finest TV series ever made, ever. It's better than Star Trek. It's better than Stargate. It's better than you.

I really want to update this more, I need some sort of...incentive to update it. And no, promises of sex if and when I'm somewhere near your vicinity isn't really going to cut it - we both know that will happen regardless as to weather I update this regularly or not ;P

I don't even know who that's directed towards. Maybe it's just you. Maybe it's everyone. Maybe I really should go to bed. But I wont.

This year is one second longer

This is a public service announcement. It's officially New Year's Eve in the UK and that means it's officially New Year's Eve worldwide (GMT being the centre of the planet and all that), so I feel it's prudent to inform people that 2008 will officially be one second longer than usual.

Before you scream "Nooo, Kushan! You've been at the Domestos Bleach again, haven't you?", have a quick glance at this article on WikiWikiWikiPediaWikiYoWikiWikiWaaWaa.

For those of you who can't be arsed reading the source of all human knowledge, all you need to know is that 2008 needs to be 1 second longer in order to keep time closely syncronised with the earth's orbit. 1 second after 23:59:59 isn't actually 2009, it's officially 23:59:60. One second after that, you can start celebrating the new year (legitimately) all you like, but if you shout "Happy New Year!" at 23:59:60, you're officially silly.

So, when the countdown starts, remember, it does not go...

3-2-1-HappyNewYearMotherFuckers!

but rather, it goes...

3-2-1-0-HappyNewYearMotherFuckers!

You've now been informed, so don't make a fool out of yourself this year, save it for next year. Which is 1 second further away than you probably realised.

Guess what?!

The experiment was a roaring success! Or an absolute failure, I'm not entirely sure which.

You'll like this.

Ok, so before I continue I'd like to point out that I haven't actually said more than two words to BQFH since I got back. In fact, last year I didn't speak to her at all, so effectively I've not spoken to her for a solid 2 years.

Tonight is Christmas Eve. As is traditional, we tend to get a small group of family and maybe the odd friend and get together for a drink and some food, you know, just a nice little way to bring on Christmas. Typical fare.

So, my dad basically spent the whole day preparing lots of buffet-style food. You know, cocktail sausages, sausage rolls, etc.
He was so busy, in fact, that I had to go and do some of his last-minute Christmas shopping for him. Shopping which included expensive chocolates and drinks for BQFH. Wanting to be the good son, I went and did this, despite the fact that shopping on Christmas Eve is not fun.
Anyhoo, fast forward to later on that night. Everything's prepared and ready and we make our way down to BQFH's house. It's approximately 20:45 when we arrive.
About 15mins later, the food has been heated and it's time to eat, score! Note that at this point, all I've said to pretty much anyone is "Hello".
Everyone moves to get some food, I sort of hang back because the kitchen isn't terribly large and let everyone get out of the way. It's finally my turn and I pick up a small side-plate to put some food on.
Now, have you ever picked up a plate, or a fork, or a cup or whatever only to find that it's not completely clean? It's not the owner being dirty, it's just a spot someone's missed when cleaning it or whatever. No big deal, right? Well the only plate left was a tiny bit dirty, so I gave it a quick rinse and a wipe.
Now I'm left with a slightly damp plate so I figure I'd best wipe it dry with a cloth. I can't see any and by this point, the only person left in the kitchen is the lady herself. I ask her where she keeps her towels. "Why?" comes the response. "Oh the plate was a wee bit dirty, so I gave it a clean and now I just need to dry it", I responds.

This is what sets her off. I shit you not, this tiny statement is what set her off on a complete screaming rampage. She pulls the plate from my hand, shouting "ACK! It's not dirty, I cleaned that! My house is not dirty!" before slamming it on the counter. She storms off, shouting and screaming about how I'm doing everything I can to ruin her Christmas and so on and so forth.

My dad came out and looked at me "...what did you say to her?" and I respond with "...I asked her for a tea-towell...", at which point she comes back shouting about how I siad her whole house was dirty and filthy.
My dad ran after her as she went upstairs to try and figure out what happened. Shortly after they came down, he was shouting at her about how she was blowing it way out of proportion (yey dad for sticking up for me! =D) and she literally told us all to get out.
So we did. We all stormed out and left her there. On Christmas Eve.
We were back home by 21:15. Even my dad said that she must have been waiting for me to say something so she could have a go at me. I think that's actually a new record for her, I couldn't have been there more than 20mins before she went off. Oh and she claims that she didn't do a single thing wrong at my brother's wedding. What a bitch.

Oh...and Merry Christmas, everyone.

A proper Update

For those that haven't figured it out, I'm back in Ireland again for chrsitmas. Last year I stayed with my brother so this year I figured I'd see my Dad since I'm sure he misses his sons.
As usual the place is cold and I'm perpetually bored, but at least I get to see my cat and my dad again.

Of course, as you may have guessed, BQFH is up to her old tricks again. It's really annoying, I've not even seen her since I got back and already she's saying shite about me. In a way, I'm pissed off, but I'm also quite happy knowing that I STILL get under her skin after all this time - and without me even being there.

However, this year I'm going to perform a little experiment. My dad and I just went shopping for the christmas meal. You know the drill, turkey, ham, gravy, etc., basically the most expensive meal of the year. Well this year I decided to pay for it, all £50 of it. I can just about afford it and it'll be worth it to see BQFH struggle for a reason to complain about me.
I'm fully confident that she'll find said reason and have a moan and at this point, I'll be more than prepared to sacrafice the turkey by shoving it up her moany old arse.

I'm going to enjoy this Christmas one way or another.