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.

Proving distance is just a number

Long distance...

Two words which when you hear them you usually summarise in your head a romantic beginning, sad goodbye, amazing reunitation, another sad goodbye and eventually a troubling break-up.

I must admit that I also thought that long distance relationships were something that cannot work and that only the naive or desperate attempted them. However, having been in one for 10 months I can categorically say that they are possible if you find yourself being with the correct person.

Relationships are not something I am going to lecture on about as anyone who does is frankly an arrogant and ignorant twat. They vary for everyone and mine just so happened to involve monthly breaks from my girlfriend, some might think of that as a blessing. Our relationship sort of sprung out of a meeting in a club, very cliche I know, hanging out and using skype for when she returned to keep building upon our friendship. She then came back to England, from Poland that is, and we decided to give it a shot. I can safely say that there are no regrets to that decision and never have there been any doubts.

The longest we have had to endure without each others company is 4 months. This might sound like a huge amount of time but you kind of just accept that there is no other choice and that counting down to when you next see each other is far more enjoyable than counting the days since you last saw each other.

This is not to say it's been all perfect and happy. Of course there have been the odd tear, not from me... We argue occasionally like any other couple but this is usually a result of frustration at the situation we find ourselves in or more commonly, me being an arsehole in some way, no sarcasm in this by the way if you're reading this Weronika.

The only picture I could find when I wasn't pulling a face.

It just takes patience, determination and a real affection felt towards each other. Me and Weronika both have that and it has lead to her spending her summer in England and me spending Christmas in Poland, bloody cold by the way.

The meetings in the airports are incredible and the goodbyes are horrific but if you dwell too much on the goodbyes then you are only going to let bad feelings dominate your relationship.

Luckily Weronika is over tomorrow for 12 days and it gives us the time together that we so deserve. After that... we dont know when the next time will be but knowing there will be is enough for me to keep going.

So if you know someone doing long distance then don't criticise them for it but admire their will power to keep on going. I've found that spending time apart really makes you appreciate what a relationship is about and just multiplies all the feelings you have together. Also, and more importantly, distance can seem like some big ugly word that has to be tackled and cried over but really, if you break it down, it just a number that can always be changed from 1,500km (in my case) to 0 if you really want it.

A traditional uni birthday

Birthdays are usually the most anticipated day of the year for the majority. Yet as you get older you usually find that they lose the excitement that they originally had until you get to your 18th.

Birthdays from 0-12 usually consist of burgers and ice-cream with the occasional birthday party thrown in every couple of years. At 12-17 they lose a lot of what they originally had and the presents normally dominate the day more than they should. 18+ they become something completely different.

At uni, birthdays aren't always seen as a positive for the individual having the birthday but more of an opportunity. Presents are very rarely anything but a drink in the pub but this is not to mean that it is a kind gesture of buying them there favourite drink.

My birthday started with myself buying a pint and everyone sat together enjoying a simple beverage. Then out of nowhere there were two shots waiting for me on the table. One being black sambuca, a vile liquid thick with everything evil in the world. The second was chili sambuca, a bright green acid that when the disgusting taste has passed a burning goes about destroying your mouth and throat. Luckily the following two drinks were a pint of Carlsberg and my favourite, a pint of Guinness. A few shots of tequila followed and a couple more pints and then the pricks of the group had there say in buying me a drink. Joe, whose birthday drinking session is luckily tonight, bought me something called 'liquid cocaine'. This is a shot made of tequila, gin, vodka and baileys. Then a little bit is extracted so that when necking the shot, the extracted bit is then snorted through a shortened straw. The pain cannot be described in normal langauge but to simplify it, it is not a pleasant experience. The last drink was something called a 'gas chamber'. This is in essence flaming sambuca but the fumes are kept so that after drinking the shot the fumes are inhaled, this time luckily through the mouth. A few pints followed and the rest of the night was left for me to try and digest the foul drinks and for them to laugh at my drunk sayings and doings.

One of the main benefits of having a birthday at uni is that firstly you don't have to worry about coming home to your mum or dad waiting to judge you or see you embarrassing yourself. Another is that if you are living with the people who are giving you the drinks, it is their responsibility to get you home safely so you can get yourself to a proper screwed up state.

So to finish up, if you have a mate who has a birthday coming up don't just settle for buying them a drink. Buy them the strongest/ most repulsive drink that is available as if you're going to spend money on someone, make sure it is well spent. However, this is not to say you shouldn't look after them. As soon as they get that drunk they are your responsibility. So just make sure they get home and that when you are there then anything goes.

A drunken story

Last Friday (23rd) we found ourselves in the usual scenario of being in the pub, drinking and exchanging jokes at eachothers expense. I was drinking beer at a slow pace as I was hoping to be in the pub for a good few hours and didn't want to peak too early. However, some of the group were planning on going clubbing later in the evening. They tried to persuade me to come but after my first week back at uni I just wanted a chilled out drinking session.

Who was going and who was not was pretty much decided. All apart from one individual, Aaron. Now Aaron originally said no to this and was drinking his double-vodka lemonades at a comfortable pace for the same reasons as I was. But after an hour of chatting and contemplating, Aaron thus decided that clubbing would be a good idea and decided to go. However, there was a problem. When Aaron goes clubbing he can't just be tipsy or even drunk. He has to be absolutely obliterated, so that any hint of self-regard/ safety are long gone. He was though at this point in the night barely fuzzy from what he had consumed and with there being only an hour and a half left till departure, he had to speed up his intake of alcohol. What wasn't expected was the sheer rise in speed of consumption. Originally he was buying one drink to last about half an hour. Now he was buying two at a time to last for 15 minutes before getting another 2. So by the time it came to his leaving he was pretty much seeing double of everything and his eyes glazed over with what I can only imagine being vodka, as I doubt there was any room left for it to go within his body. But either way, he felt he had succeeded in getting him to the state he felt was acceptable to go clubbing and they departed.

3 hours later.

I returned from the pub with some grub and set about eating it whilst drinking some water so that the hangover the next day could be tamed a little. After this was finished I decided to head to bed at around 2am.

Then it all kicked off.

I heard what can only be described as a mixture of a heavy metal scream and the sound of a gag. Yet though this surprised me at first, I immediately knew who was the culprit and decided to investigate. I got to the bathroom on the first floor and found it locked so with a little pick locking, I opened it. What I saw was a hairy blob on the floor with its head buried in the toilet bowl vomiting furiously.

Aaron loves a good flirt

'Mate, you alright?'
The reply was just a desperate 'uh huh'.
So I tapped him on the back and left to go back to bed.
What followed was enormous banging coming from the same bathroom Aaron was in. I decided to just leave him to do what he wants but was told the following morning through another source what was actually happening.

Aaron had decided to take a shower but somehow was struggling to close the shower door, even though there is no lock of any kind and just needs to be pulled towards him to close it. So all
I can imagine is that he was pulling it so furiously that it was bouncing back out the hinge, making him think something was wrong. A very surprised Abbie was then the unfortunate person to open the bathroom door to see him now naked and very confused to why the shower door wasn't closing and wasn't even switching on. He hadn't switched on the correct switch and just stood there in bewilderment. Abbie then helped him switch on the shower and left him. She returned 20 minutes later to find him naked and sleeping on the floor of the bathroom in the pitch black.

Adding to supplies

Next morning.

Myself and Billy first met him on the sofa looking pretty awful and asked him what happened and what time he got back. He didn't know and had no recollection of what had happened the night before and that someone apart from his mother had now seen him naked. So Billy and I decided to see what state his room was in.

Firstly there was sick on his bed and his bin had a lovely puddle of the previous nights dinner and vodka. However the most shocking element was walking into his room. I was wearing slippers, Billy was not and he quickly commented on how the majority of the carpet was soaking wet.
'Maybe its water?' Billy asked in hoping that I would agree.
'Maybe it's not?' I replied starting to giggle. Billy on the other hand, did not find it very amusing.
So to clarify we asked Aaron what the substance on his floor was and it was indeed urine. However, the smell, according to Aaron did not occur until the Monday after and he has informed me that it still lingers.

He did attempt to clean up mind you. He used Billy's flannel which he claims, 'no one used'. He has now promised to purchase a new one for Billy who is distraught that one of his Christmas presents has been used to soak up urine.

This story is pretty tame in comparison to others but I thought I better start light and build up to the really ridiculous events that have happened.

Mini-saga (50 word story)

As part of my creative writing module this term, we were asked to go to a museum and take inspiration to write a piece of flash fiction, an exact 50 words story. This was inspired by a replica of a bomb shelter from the second world war. 

The leftovers

In a cold and twisted heap, it stank of decisions of powerful men. The metal with its black scars ripped through the onlookers. Sour understanding the haven from the shells, the unpredictable rain, was never protection but an unmarked grave for those who lack the simplicity of luck and fortune.