All Blogged Up

Semester one of college is now behind me, and, apart from physics, has been what I would call a success. In fact, i'm looking forward to the second term in some ways. But yeah, college, after all my fretting and initial doubts has been a blast. Truly coming to learn the true meaning of college. Finished a presentation with about two hours to go, showed up ferociously hungover, after approximately two and a half hours of admittedly fitful and alcohol induced sleep, managed to, not to blow my own horn or anything, knocked that sucker out of the park with a stream of bullshit that would make a politician proud. Ten percent of Professional Engineering module, you didn't stand a chance.

Speaking of drunken/hungover triumphs, unfortunately for those of you out there who know what a great drinking buddy I can be when I'm not lost, passed out or befriending homeless people, will be saddened to learn that as of today I am curbing my drinking in the interests of my throat. Getting up in front of about 200 people and making an arse of myself for three nights in a row just for the sake of a few bottles doesn't seem like a good idea to me... I also know that I will be eating these words and washing them down with a pint of something or other in not too long a time, but still, it's good to have ideals isn't it?

Well, it seems I have run out of verbal tripe to cram into your cranial cavities so it is time I depart. Farewell, and good tidings. (Or something a little less gay than that, I'm sure you can come up with something.)

Jagerman? Aidanmeister? We'll work on the PR side of things later.

2 facts about Jagermeister: 

1) It is an evil drink that captures the souls of those who drink it.
2) It grants me superpowers.

There is a story behind factoid number two, but not one I shall recount here. Went to Al's last night and had a freakin' great time. I love sessioning with my friends, it's actually the best thing ever. Getting slightly concerned about my visits from the amnesia fairy though. The slow drip of memory gain in the morning after is never fun. You know you've had a great night when in your mind you went from ripping a shirt off of yourself Hulk style and collapsing with laughter, to being outside on decking in just your underwear, unsure as to whether or not you want to get sick.It's moments like that make me want to believe in some sort of God, just so I have someone to blame all my faults, failures and misgivings on.

I would regail you, dear reader, with tales of excitement and fantasy from that most wonderful of parties, if I could remember any of the fucking night. Ah well.

You know what's great, when you talk to someone for the first time and you feel like you just click. You know who you are... I mean, staying up until it's bright out, talking absolute bollocks with someone who you've never met before in your life? That's something special right there, wouldn't you agree?

I dunno, perhaps I just try to see the extraordinary in the mundane too often, but I think I might be right in saying I'm a little bit richer after tonight's events.

Also, starting from tomorrow this blog is going back to how it was in the first post. I'm starting to head down a road into a town called "Faggotsville" the way I'm going with all these sentimental posts, and I think I'll just keep lighthearted and trivial from now on, unless the mood strikes me...