Party, police and pricks

Last Saturday our plans were to go to a university house party. I can't remember the last time I went to a house party and the rest of the group were excited for a cheap and sociable evening. We bought our booze a couple of days before and made sure we were sufficiently prepared with enough alcohol to last the evening.

On arrival we noticed that though the cab journey didn't seem to take so long, we were completely bewildered to our location in Coventry. The house looked nice enough and when we entered we found that though it looked relatively large on the outside, it was incredibly cosy on the inside. We lay our boxes of beer and cider outside so that they would remain cool and went inside to see what was what.

There was only around 20 people at the party at this point, 12 of which were us, so we decided to make our own entertainment by drinking and talking. Some individuals scouted the girls present and for those of us who were in a relationship, laughed at their disappointment that only 3 were actually present.

One individual of our group, John, had left to discuss his gym progress with an obvious stoner who was more interested in talking about how high he had been the night before. We again laughed as he looked at us from the other room quite confused into why we weren't going in to talk with them. The truth was we were quite happy with our own company. Furthermore, the guy in question loved singing My Chemical Romance whenever he had the chance and I can't be dealing with someone like that. .

Everything was going smoothly. We had started to make conversation with people we did not know and were getting involved with other groups. The party was starting to gain more people at this point and the alcohol consumed was starting to take effect. So as far as house party goes it was all going quite well. Until...

The doorbell rang and the host answered the door. Rico's (the host) face looked at those outside the house with a sort reluctant smile and welcome. Chris and I, who were sat in the other room watching, could tell that something wasn't quite right.

Four guys entered. Three of the four were incredibly round and the fourth looking like he hadn't eaten in a week. Two of the three round people were wearing polo tops which were clearly two sizes too small and the third fatty was wearing a coat, to our pleasing as two fabric stretchers was quite enough.

They came in and immediately we knew they weren't students. Not because of their appearance so much, though this did have some influence, but the very manner in which they waltzed in shouting and swearing with no regard for anyone else. Aaron, who had been school mates with the host had warned us that these people could come and stated they were 'massive knobs' and the only reason they were invited was because the host felt obliged to.We ignored the Jeremy Kyle contestants and left them to their own doing as we attempted to go on as we had done before.

About two hours later I was informed that a police van was outside and I decided to investigate. There was indeed a huge and full police van outside the front of the house. It turned out that one of the fabric stretchers had thrown a bottle outside, awoken a resident with children and racially abused them. On confronting the group I said 'why would you do that in a residential area?'. Their reply was 'it's a house party, got to have some fun'. I decided they were not worth the reply and left them to the host Rico.

It turned out that due to Rico's 'kindness' he could not tell them to leave. Chris and I insisted that if he wanted the party to be a success they would have to go otherwise the police would return after they politely warned us to not let it happen again.

Another hour later I got tapped on the shoulder by Abbie.

'The police are back again and one of the fat kids has just slammed the door in their face.'

Brilliant...

Next thing I know three police officers came round the back of the house into the garden. Two were in the house and around eight lined the entrance.

Not surprisingly they asked us to leave and that party was done. It was 1:30 am by this point but we had then planned to be there till the early hours of the morning. We picked up our existing drinks, most of mine had then been stolen, and headed through the house to leave. To my amazement the most stretchiest of fabric stretchers was trying to argue with police and questioning him on the law. The police officer looked at him with some amusement as we all did. The fat prick seriously thought he was better than the policeman!

I did ask why we had been asked to leave and the police officers were incredibly friendly and helpful in describing that they had two complaints and in a residential area that means two strikes and you're out. We completely understood and they knew who the culprits were but they apologised for having to end our night and gave us taxi phone numbers.

Once we returned home we were all quite annoyed that the pricks had gotten their way so we went and bought some greasy food and drunk the last of our beer. Chris was on full rage mode and ranted about how much he hated them for a good two hours. Even now if you bring the topic up his face goes a little pink and he goes 'argh', inhales and he's off again.

Having a party shut down by the police can show that the party was bouncing. This time it was not. It was just a few ignorant and thick skulled twats that believed that with size came confidence. It was a shame as everything was starting to get going and we were enjoying ourselves. But I think the biggest regret was that we hadn't even had the time to see one of the single lads make a complete tit of himself with one of the poor and unexpecting ladies.

How coursework lead to the discovery of the creepy housemate

Though this blog will most likely go out during mid-afternoon it is important to establish that it begun at 1:36am.

The reason for this is that my body clock over the past week has become completely distorted because of that old foe... the coursework deadline. And what better way to spend this peculiar time of night than writing a blog about the state it has left my mind in and what I have discovered harbouring in the house.

Firstly, I understand that some irritating and patronising few reading this might state 'but Matt, you shouldn't have left it to last minute' (goes out specifically to my dad who loves making this point). Yes it was set ages ago, but due to seminars on novels I am writing about having only recently happened, I wasn't going to begin the work to find out I had been wrong and needed start all over, DAD.

I have currently spent 10 hours in three days in the library. Might not sound like a lot but considering the other 62 hours were spent reading on relevant academia on the work done in those 10 hours, I think I have balanced it quite well. Reading academia for those not familiar with the term just means reading published articles on your essay topic to realise you cannot write anything near as good.

I much prefer coursework to exams and English does favour this. For example for the whole of my second year I have not had to endure one exam to my relief; mainly because I am crap at them.

But the problem with having an extensive piece of work is that it has the great ability to change your patience from a solid 8 to a complete zero. Your diet will become incredibly pizza orientated and will screw with your sleeping pattern. Even now it has got to 1:53 am and I am still wide awake.

Now the time is 16:52 as I finish it up and though it has been a few days since the deadline I have found that my sleep is still a little muddled. However, I have found that one certain individual awakens at this time of night (around 12am) and goes about his 'nightly' life.

We have someone living with us who never socilaises with us and the only time we see him is when he is skyping his American girlfriend, to which he attempts to imitate her accent with complete cringeness. His actual name will be hidden but that doesn't matter as we refer to him as Paddy, not that he knows this... The reason behind this name is because of Patrick Swayze who played a ghost in the film 'Ghost', a rather peculiar nickname but certainly has relevance.

In the middle of the night I hear him ponder downstairs to the kitchen whilst his irritating and fake American accent is in its most confidence. I hear the odd 'I love you baby' followed by an incredibly sloppy kiss sound or sometimes if he is feeling rather intimate 'what was that puppy?'. I lie in bed in complete horror that anyone could possibly act in this way.The nearest I get to imitating my Polish girlfriend is by shouting 'eeeshh meeesh' in a Borat accent to describe how the Polish language is thought to by the English, or maybe just me.

I struggle to understand how anyone can live with others without attempting to talk to them or even acknowledge them. We might be a group of guys who constantly take the piss out of eachother but we are a friendly bunch.

I am now forcing myself to wake up earlier so I can go to sleep before he wakes. Mainly so I don't have to endure his poorly executed American accent claiming that he is so in love with her that he feels the need to put his mouth right up to the camera to slobber... yes he does actually do this.

I get that not everyone wishes to socialise with certain people but come on! You can't stay in your room for the entirety of time doing things in front of a camera I am pretty sure would be illegal in most countries knowing of his character.

Yet even though he comes across as an nocturnal 'thing', he has succeeded where the rest of the group has failed. He possess something that usually makes someone an integral part of any friendship group. He has the 'nickname'. And for that he has some respect but I highly doubt he will be making the most of that come tomorrow when all the 'paddies' will be out drowning themselves in Guinness on his name day, St Patricks Day.

So tomorrow I feel it might be appropriate to raise a glass of the black nectar to honour Lord Paddy of the 10th floor and all of his creepy mannerisms. He might not ever speak to us but he has sure lead to us lot giggling and in a way contributing to our happiness.

Why student fees make sense

For most students when they are asked about student fees they are usually quite happy to criticise them without fully thinking it through. It is true that other countries pay far less when it comes to higher education. It is also true that if a Scot was to study in his homeland it would be free, yet if you were from anywhere else, it would cost. That by all accounts does seem completely ridiculous but I do believe that by shouting at politicians and universities about the £9,000 fee (not all courses) you need to take a step back to realise why they are doing it.

Firstly, they're not doing it to put us in massive debt and to cover the problems certain bankers have made in the last 10 years. The simple truth of the matter is so that universities can improve.

It is a common misconception that the actual study fee goes to the government. It doesn't! It goes to the university you are attending. That means that they can invest and improve so that when you apply for a job in the future they can look at the uni and go 'that's a good university'. It isn't going back into a complicated system which the government uses for benefits, the NHS, paying the EU or some other matter people love to moan about.

I am very lucky to be at a university that has clearly invested extremely well over the last 10 or so years. Coventry Uni has shot up the league tables since I have been here and in my first two years it has been voted Modern University of the Year 2014 & 2015. This doesn't just come from well planned lectures and good grades.

Yes the quality of the teaching and the classifications of degrees does have an influence, that's why Cambridge and Oxford are always up the top. However, it is not always what you have on a piece of paper that gets you a job or whether you went to fancy balls and have a sophisticated and frankly irritating accent and opinion on the world.

Ed Miliband has recently announced he will lower tuition fees to, if I am correct, £6,000 a year if he is voted in. This is probably a way for him to get younger voters to vote for him as everyone else has given up. Furthermore, he is willing to make these changes DESPITE last year having one of the highest recorded amounts of applications for university study. I can't see the logic in making this change if the money is not deterring students to going to university. He claims he didn't have that debt when he finished his degree and we shouldn't either... But to be honest Ed, you didn't have to worry so much about the money when you came out.

I do believe lowering tuition fees is a good idea if  the current fees raise a real question on the possibility of someone going to uni. It is clearly not doing that at the moment and to be honest if you have gone to any student finance talk, you will be aware that it does not cripple you when you start working and that paying back is doable.

I am not someone who has a wealthy background and has no money worries whatsoever. The idea of paying £££'s back when I am older is a horrible thought but I knew that was going to happen when I was applying to study. It is easy to moan and say 'we shouldn't have to pay'. That is right, but you don't have to go to uni to get a decent paid job. Going to uni is a sacrifice and a risk but it is one I have always been willing to take. And if it means that I have to pay back a fraction of my salary when I'm older so that universities can improve now then so be it. If putting yourself in debt is such a big problem then don't go to uni, simple as that. If you are at uni now and moaning then question how your university is funded and where the money comes from to pay for the academic professionals. Nothing is free in the world and if I am to spend a lot of money on something, my education isn't a bad investment, especially when I haven't had to pay a penny until uni.

Tomorrow by the side, yesterday over the road

In a moment of what seemed just like a usual day, she stood there next the tree next to the road. The tree was large, huge in fact, and its roots had distorted the concrete beneath her. Its very source of life had destroyed the concrete and made all man made structures look weak and pointless. Yet she stood there with her arm out with a small boy holding it. The boy epitomised the term ignorance is bliss. He looked up at the big tree and was in awe of its size, not knowing what damage had been done beneath. The branches looked alive in the wind and though bear with the season it looked more human than it had in any month of any year. He just looked and began to feel confused to whether the tree was more alive than the woman he was with for she had no expression and was motionless. Her stance was regular. She held the boy's hand in one and the pushchair in the other. Her face was terrible. It wreaked of misery yet it looked plain with no expression. It was as if the tears of previous days had scarred her face with terminal sadness.

She didn't look at the boy at all. She didn't look ahead at the man approaching her. She just looked over the road. She was still and made no body movement or change of facial expression. She was fixated on the building that was across the road. The building had no natural beauty whatsoever. It was just a plain building but it was what was inside the building that trapped her. She looked at the large pieces of stone with carvings that were behind the buildings large and revealing windows. The carvings said 'forever loved' or 'a wonderful husband, father and brother'. The words, though sympathetic, burnt her. Every letter was as bad as the next only because it had relevance to her current situation. She knew one of these stones would be squeezed in the earth in the coming days, but she didn't believe it was the correct way to say goodbye. She believed that something as cold and bleak as stone was disgustingly ironic for its purpose. And though she would constantly change the flowers and make sure some life was there, people would be more interested on what was said on that stone.

The man walking down the road was now very close to her. It was only when he was a few feet away she sort of snapped back into reality and said to the boy 'look at how big this tree is'. The boy was happy she had the same opinion as him and now they both went to the tree to see how hard its bark was. She showed enthusiasm for the boy and he was loving it with questions on how old it could be. She simply replied 'very old' or 'older than me', this made the boy chuckle and she would tap him on the back of the head because of his playful cheekiness.

They stayed by the tree for a couple of minutes and carried on up the road with the boy in one hand and the pushchair in the other. She would keep talking to the boy to keep him amused but the boy was too young to understand the pain behind her kind words. How when he spoke she would barely listen with her mind elsewhere. Her mouth would smile to him but her eyes would scream for yesterday to be back.

Life after uni?

Whenever you ask someone who is at uni and question what uni is like they will always give the same reply of 'amazing' or 'hard work'. Both of these are true. However, as a second year student, you'd expect that with a long third year in prospect and still a substantial amount of coursework needed to be done, uni life is still uni life.You're focusing on getting rent paid, making money stretch and completing work. This is now quite clearly not the only thing to think about.

This week I have had 'careers' week whereby I have had numerous lectures on options for the end of uni. Graduate jobs have been thrown at me from all angles and I find myself drowning in possibilities.

I have always presumed that as an English student graduate jobs would be incredibly hard to come by. It seems to be the opposite. My degree, so I have been told, opens up career paths in journalism, marketing, HR, sales, teaching, radio, television, publishing etc. The hard part is now deciding where to go. Business seems to have the most sectors and most possibilities yet I find the world of business to be too dry for someone studying English AND Creative Writing. I am looking into the media side of things and looking into publishing, journalism, radio etc. This has now lead to me looking into summer placement opportunities to build upon my CV and general experience.

Yet as I look into placements it becomes apparent that there are so many out there for all manner of things. The difficulty now is finding the right one and applying to it in the right way. I am lucky enough that Coventry University is extremely good at helping students apply for graduate jobs, placements and work experience, this leading to the university having a 90% employment or further study after 6 months in all of its students.

I am not going to be a graduate working in some boring retail job when I could have started a career. I am absolutely determined to take on work now and get right in there. It is both exciting and terrifying but if you are in second or third year, just go for it. Dont be intimidated by it. And if you are in first year, enjoy first year. Drink as much as you can, party as much as you want as when second year comes about, it really is time to start thinking ahead.

I remember thinking in first year how amazing being a fresher was. I was studying a course I loved, making mates through halls of residence and rugby, playing a lot of rugby and just pissing about. Second year has been amazing also but I am finding enjoyment in getting good grades and thinking about earning £20,000+ in the first year after I graduate. If you are in second year and not thinking like this then question why you are at uni. Uni is there for the experience and enjoyment but think of what you are paying. If you wanted to get pissed and muck about you didn't need to pay £9000 a year to do it. Get a decent degree and start thinking about life after uni. Uni was never something I did to stop me from working for a few more years. It was for the experience, the degree and the opportunities. It is only now that the opportunities are taking priority over the experience and getting the right career being paramount. I am massively excited for the future and can't wait to get going in the big bad world.

The virus of twitter trolls

Last night I found myself unable to sleep and thought that a browse on twitter might help me drift off. However, all it did was infuriate me at the sheer awfulness of some people in the 'twittersphere'.

'Twitter Trolls' are people who are well known to the media and there is often some article on a celebrity who has been 'trolled' on twitter. What this means is that some keyboard warrior has decided to harass someone by tweeting them some sort of rude or disgusting remark.

Now I have always known of these people but never really paid much attention to it. This is mainly because I don't believe they should be given the publicity they so desperately want. However, last night I saw something that made my blood boil.

Piers Morgan is well known for his opinionated and provocative tweets which always get a reaction. I do follow him on twitter and though he does irritate me sometimes, I do admire the way he goes about it. Yesterday was no different in him replying to the odd tweet which disagreed with his opinions but what caught my eye was not the tweet @piersmorgan was replying to but the tweet below it. @ShaunLFC4 tweets (as seen above) 'Get cancer Piers'.  

This instantly made me question why anyone would firstly, wish that upon anyone and secondly, why would you make such a disgusting comment on a social media website where anyone can see it. Moreover, what can motivate you so much to say such a thing?! My hatred for this individual lead to me replying to him with a rather colourful tweet asking if this guy was for real? (Not those exact words). He then replied stating 'rugby players drink each other's piss'. At this point I understood that he had gone to my profile to gain some ammo to slate me. His comment was so idiotic and embarrassing I didn't see the point in pursuing any argument further and allowing him to waste anymore of my time. 

Yet when I eventually put my phone down it made me think. With myself having a close friend going through the nightmare of cancer I couldn't quite contemplate the mind of someone who would wish cancer on anybody. Furthermore, how people like this get away with saying these things. 

People might say that me writing a blog about it is giving them publicity and that any publicity is good publicity. But more has to be done against this vermin. Whether it is the blocking of accounts, the knowing of who these people are so they can be revealed to the public or even going down the very real legal prosecution of these people. 

I cannot just sit by and accept that these people are allowed to do such a thing. Twitter is a weird and wonderful thing. About 70% of the news I read is through newspapers twitter feeds, it is the quickest way to find out about anything now. More so, you see some of the sheer brilliance of peoples humour and wit on twitter and the recent replies to the ISIS threat to attack the Roman Colosseum was both hilarious and inspiring. http://www.theladbible.com/articles/isis-threaten-rome-with-attack-but-italians-don-t-give-a-sh-t < read this if interested. 

It is true that there will always be people who feel the need to make fake accounts and discriminate, harass or just be plain horrible and yes they should usually be ignored. But when someone finds it this easy to make such a horrible statement then lets publicise them. Reveal them to the world as really, the world isn't that awful and the cruel and small-minded are the minority and any minority can be made to feel small and weak. 

The pen will always be mightier than the sword but it can be used both ways. I do believe that people are finally starting to realise the very real problem of twitter trolls and starting to sort it, or at least minimise it. The one piece of mind I do have however is that the people who do this will never get far enough in life to be in a position whereby they can make these disgusting statements to the celebrities face's. 

What uni has taught me so far

Obviously you come to uni to study whatever course you pick. Yet now I am about halfway through my university experience there is a strong realisation that there is a lot more to it than that. Some people will go travelling after completing school. It's true that work won't allow you to have 6 months off to go to some peculiar town in the middle of somewhere to 'find yourself' or some other boring cliche often used. However, all this experience can be achieved at uni and though there is massive debt at the end of it, you also get something called a degree which I am told helps a bit with getting decent paid jobs.

The sort of things you learn at uni apart from the academia side of things are:

• Independence/ responsibility
• Cooking/ washing your clothes
• Money (and how to live off the budget of a four year olds pocket money)
• Clubbing/ drinking (and where the limits really are)
• Getting a house
• Meeting new people 
• Societies at uni
• And seeing a different part of the country

I have loved uni more than I thought I would. The stress I have had to endure has only made me better as a person and matured me... some won't believe that.

The whole independence thing would be very boring to read about and it isn't so hard to understand that living away from home will make you become more adult. It's the same with cooking really. My diet consists of curries, stir fries, omelettes, bangers and mash and the odd something else (all cooked). You learn to cook quickly as if you don't your student loan can only buy so many take aways... If you really struggle then toast is always good. If you can't toast bread then you're a simpleton and sort it out.

Washing clothing was a nervous step for me. I have heard horror stories of white t-shirts going pink or clothes shrinking but it's easy. Colours with colours, whites with whites and don't put the water on a too high temperature.

Money is something that is often referred to as being non-existent with students. This has some truth in it but if your sensible and find the right shops to buy food and more importantly, the right pubs to drink in, you can budget it someway or another. 

Clubbing/ drinking at uni is on a whole new level than to back home. Knowing you don't have a parent to come home to means the limits are risen or even erased. I cannot possibly begin to describe the things I have seen of other people being drunk but take my word for it, it's bloody funny. There obviously has to be a limit and there usually is but if someone goes way overboard you know there will be someone looking out for you and if not... then don't drink unless with a good bunch of mates.

Getting a house is by far the most stressful thing to sort. You have no idea what you're doing. No idea what prices are good or not for rent. Whether the house is good quality. Or whether the people you will be living with will be OK or complete bellends. I learnt that you just need to trust your gut and go for it. Take note of prices etc and it will all fit into place.

Meeting new people is easy. You see the odd person wandering around with no mates but they're usually too busy talking to their left hand and and listening to their right. This isn't me taking a dig at the loners out there but if you really want friends at uni it is easy if you try.

Societies... Mine was rugby union. I will leave this for another blog for obvious reasons.

Seeing a different part of the country is great. Coventry, where I am situated, is amazing, bonkers, horrible, beautiful, friendly and perfect all at the same time. You see everything in Cov. The people on the waiting list for Jeremy Kyle. The people who shout at trees. The people who look as active as trees. The low lifes who moan. And you see the brilliant as well. Cov will also get its own blog. 

So to summarise, uni is just fucking brilliant! If you are not sure whether to do it, DO IT! If you don't like it then fine but you will be a very small minority who don't. Nothing will prepare you more for the rest of your life than lessons learnt at uni.

6 Nations!

The 6 nations is by far my favourite time of the year when it comes to rugby. International rugby is head and shoulders above club rugby and the 6 nations allows the world to see the greatest annual rugby tournament in rugby and sees the biggest rivalries clash.

A brief review and preview at 2 games in:

2 games and 2 wins, For me the Wales game had to provide a good performance. I wasn't too bothered at the result as to win at the Millenium stadium is extremely hard no matter how well you play. However, the performance was incredible! For a team that is awash with injuries this mix-match side made the Welsh look average at times and looked seriously good. The Italy game however was somewhat of a disappointment. The naive will say a 30 point difference at the final whistle would be a good result but England didn't really start till the second half.  Do that against the southern hemisphere sides, Ireland, France or Wales and it's game over by the time you go back into the changing rooms at halftime.

Summary in a sentence: The red rose not quite in full bloom but thorns are sharp nonetheless. 

Again 2 games and 2 wins, An away win at Italy was expected and though their performance was said to not be their best, they still got 3-26 win in Rome and that is a great achievement. I personally thought they would only be half the side after BOD leaving but they seem to have improved if anything. I think when Paul O'Connell calls it day then they will be without their leader and most important player and will need to restructure a bit. The win against France was never going to be predictable, you never know with France how they will perform but a win is a great result. I personally think the 6 nations is there's for the taking. However, if England win in Dublin the trophy is there's and the World Cup is within reach for the Rose. But I do think Ireland at home will be slightly too strong for a inconsistent England side.

Summary in a sentence: No God in BOD but playing stronger than ever.

Scotland are a team that people want to do well as the underdogs in every game but they can't quite get it together. The loss to France was incredibly narrow and the loss to Wales even smaller. They are not a team that should be taken lightly. Though they will never win the tournament they do cause a potential banana skin for every side. I do believe that in the next 10 years they will be a real force if they sort out their foundations. In Richie Gray, who is out for the tournament with injury, Stuart Hogg, Jonny Gray and Greg Laidlaw they have real quality. I think with players like Hogg and Richie Gray especially they need to build a team around them as they could get into the 25 man squad for any of the 6 nations sides. 

Summary in a sentence: Problem causers but rarely problem solvers.

Wales... They're a team I can't quite figure out. They have one of the best coaches in world rugby in Gatland. They have, for me, the best back 3 in Europe. George North is the most promising talent in world rugby and Halfpenny was the best Lion in the recent British & Irish Lions success down under. However, they seemed to have peaked in their 2013 championship winning year. The Lions that year was dominated by Welsh talent but I think what followed killed them for the future. The surge in players leaving for France and England has killed Welsh club rugby and left the national side a group of individuals not a tight group like the English or Irish. However, saying all of this, though the England loss was massively damaging and the win against Scotland incredibly tight, they are still the most passionate rugby nation in the world and you can never completely writ- off the Welsh.

Summary in a sentence: World class not quite making world beaters.

The Italians are a team that people watch with a sort of sympathetic patronising face. Everyone knows they try but really we know they won't win. They have arguably one of the best 8's and leaders in Sergio Parisse and one of the most charismatic players in Martin Castrogiovanni who has proven to be world class over his career. But the one problem I have with Italy is that people often put them in the same bracket with Scotland with quality and the threat they provide. I don't think they are the same. The Italians are expected to beaten by a high margin by most of the teams and usually are. There are the rare moments they cause an upset and everyone is raving about them but they aren't the same threat as the Scots. The two things they do have is Rome and they have made that a formidable place to go and the physicality they bring. They have 2 losses so far this year and I can't see them winning a game. When Parisse and Castro go they will be in serious trouble and the results could seriously become embarrassing if they don't find that world class again. 

Summary in a sentence: Nothing to lose but nothing gained.

The French a league is where the highest paid players in the world are. The French XV are most likely the best paid team in the 6 Nations as well. The players play with and against the best players in the world in the Top 14 and most of the French XV play like world beaters in their home nation. But Les Blues might have to be the most inconsistent team in world rugby. They only ever seem to produce at their best at World Cups. The 6 Nations should be a tournament they are favourites for every year and though the bookies might put them up there, any rugby fan will know they look good on paper but not always in real life. Mathieu Bastareaud, Wesley Fofana, Pascal Pape and Thierry Dusautoir are just a handful of the talent in their team and for club they are simply unplayable at times. For country... not so much. They have a loss against a very strong Ireland team and a lucky win against the Scots. They shouldn't be a big problem for England and Wales could snatch a win. Either way, they will not be winning this year's tournament, not that it probably bothers them too much when they get to go back to the clubs they play for and the salary they earn. 

Summary in a sentence: Everything says yes for them but the answer is often no.

Predicted finish:

1. Ireland

2. England

3. France

4. Wales

5. Scotland

6. Italy

A K cider type of night

Within my group of mates at uni we have a sort of tradition whereby if there is a special occasion we decide to buy a very specific pre-drink for a night out. This pre-drink is drunk with only one outcome possible; complete lack of any self-control and dignity. It tastes rancid, has a alcohol volume of 8.4% and goes by the name of K Cider.

The occasion for such a beverage was that a mate of mine was coming up to visit me in Coventry. He has come up twice before and one ended with myself being so horrifically drunk I cannot possibly say what happened. All I will say is that I was found with my trousers round my ankles and one shoe on in bed with a question being asked to whether I was still alive. This state was also caused by the joys of 'K'.

We bought our 4 cans for £6 and there was about 10 of us drinking it and all very excited to see what was to unfold throughout the night. The taste is so bad that it has to be drunk with some sort of blackcurrant squash just so it can even be durable. Yet still no matter how much you put in, it is always drunk with a grimace and an asking of 'why am I doing this?'

By about 2 cans in we all looked at each other with a sort of concerning expression as the effects of the liquid was already well underway. But even though we knew it was all to get much worse we bravely continued.

By about 10:30 my four cans were consumed and decided to have one Guinness just so I had something to drink for the remaining 30 mins. My head was a sea of a whatever brain I had left. It felt as if the drink had dismembered my brain so that just a pink mess was slopping around in my skull. I took a fuzzy look at everyone else and the expression seemed to be the same on everyone's face. A mixture of sheer delight at being at a state that now anything is acceptable and whether they will be sick or not. One poor lad who had never drunk K's before had brought with him 8 cans and had completed 6 by the time of leaving, a very rookie error. I turned to see if he was coming as we left and all I saw was him stroking the closed bathroom door like an affectionate mother would do to a child. I shouted 'Billy!'. He turned to me like an alert meerkat, looked at me with fear and ran to the stairs leading to downstairs and all that was heard was vomitting. We presumed he would be ok and no one really wanted to clean him up so we decided to leave.

We believed getting cabs we would be much more sensible instead of taking the 20 minute walk and proceeded to find two. However, one of the group had a better idea... Strictly under the influence of alcohol, Nathan, our resident old boy at the age of 23 decided to ride his unicycle to the club. He hadn't been drinking Ks but instead had been drinking some of my 65% home-brewed polish whiskey or commonly known as 'bimber'. He surprisingly looked quite capable of doing this and we watched him cycle, (is that right for a unicycle?) with a lock in one hand, down the road and round the corner. It is important to note we did not see him for the remainder of the night but he did return with his beloved unicycle a few hours later.

Being in the club is an incredibly blurry memory. We lost half the group almost immediately. We later found out that 5 had returned home and one had fallen downstairs naked with a full 2 pint stein of water. Apparently the hilarity of watching this was uncomparable. Moreover, after getting up he remained naked and wandered the house looking for friends. The remainder of us spent the rest of the night dancing and laughing at ourselves. I was later told that I spent most of the night on the floor as I kept falling over and making a tit of myself. There was some dancing but it was more of an attempt to stay stood up than rhythmic movement to the music.

Eventually I got to a point when even my mate who had come up said 'Matt, just go home'. I declared to him that I was not going to leave him like a soldier says dramatically in some Hollywood film. He insisted and I realised that the night for me was well and truly peaked and a burger and bed was needed. So I said my emotional goodbye and got a burger, a cab (for which I think I grossly overpaid) and got back.

Before going to bed I decided to go to the toilet to risk any further embarrassment. What I found was my bathroom, which only I use, covered in shaving foam and my shower door completely broken off. I was told that the 6 can guy who was sick was found by the early returning group and they proceeded in removing his eyebrows by shaving them. This was why there was shaving foam everywhere. The removed shower door was due to one of my friends pinning another in the shower and this resulting with the removal of a whole door. I am still curious into what might have actually been happening but of course they say it was 'just a bit of fun'.

The hangover the next day was absolutely awful. I think the headache was the result of my brain fusing back together and the very sore wrist being due to the high amount of falling overs the night before. A few videos were found on phones but nothing too revealing. One had Chris, our resident Mancunian, shouting to my mate from home Ash, 'Wherever you go I fucking go'. The point of this remark is still not understood. There was one clip of me drinking water in the club and my face looking like it was melting and all muscle function was gone apart from being able to do a ridiculous and exaggerated smile to the camera.

Overall it was a night that we all intended to happen and will be looked back on with success. Not just because it was a great night with a childhood mate but that the stories from it can be told for years to come.

Valenwhat?

There is no other time in the year where jealousy is more rife and the generosity of others is published more relentlessly than Valentines Day.

It is the same every year...

A week prior to February 14th there are the few who are already tweeting or posting something like 'brace for the pandora posts in a week' or 'can't wait for the valentine posts...' These are usually the same people every year and luckily this is a small group.

I can't quite understand why people moan about valentines day. Yes, it is nice to have someone and maybe as a guy I am being slightly insensitive to the woman who crave a bit of love after the usual blues of January but come on! There is more to life than moaning about a single day.

I agree that the endless posts about some unnecessarily expensive watch or other piece of jewellery are irritating but I wouldn't say it is 'jealousy' that someone has more money than me that annoys me. For me it is how the individual wants to show 'how spoilt' they are and how they want to make others jealous of them. I honestly couldn't care less if your boyfriend can splash out on something like that but don't shove it in my face.

Unfortunately Weronika is leaving Thursday so we are doing our Valentines day today and making it a whole lot more simple. A simple card and a meal out is enough for us, maybe the meaningful present put in but it won't cost a silly amount of money. Keeping things simple always makes life easier and by keeping it simple does not mean less effort! I am for one not a huge fan of Valentines day as I just look at it as a day that shouldn't really be needed. A day of 'love' for me is usually an anniversary or treating them on their birthday. If we need a day to tell us to treat them a bit more special than we must be doing something wrong in the rest of the year.

However... like most guys in a relationship if she wants to celebrate it then you will just have to accept it and get on with it. Just don't worry so much about the materialistic side of the day. Keep all that to a minimum as then it means an extra beer can be afforded at the dinner and it prevents the inevitable headache of deciding what special present needs to be bought. The same headache that is only just leaving after Christmas.