I make a poor correspondent. Telegrams would be so much more effective on me.

Evening all.

Sorry. Honest. But all will be revealed in due time. There's another project in the pipeline which I'm all excited about (with good reason) and that may take up my time I would otherwise be not devoting to this.

But in all seriousness I'm part of something new, bigger and all together more professional at the moment (not my job no, that's not even an exciting thing to tell you). I intend to start doing this again, but I will also be whoring out this other project like nobody's business.

I hope you can all forgive me for now and enjoy the coming fun.

Hope to see you all indulging my new habit.

The adventures of my idiot friends!

I received a telegram this morning containing the most wonderful tale, which I felt I must share with you all...

Here follows the tale of Captain Haddock and The Sirens.

"The most peculiar set of events has just befallen me and I am in a semi form of shock! The story starts in a most ordinary manner when I was strolling through the Norwich Mall after a pleasant meander! As sauntered through the mall a sales lady walked up to me and asked for a moment of my time . . . little did I know that she was springing the trap. So not wanted to be a prat I obliged by walking over to her stall. She asked me to put my hands in a dish and started washing my hands with this crystal stuff. Then she dry s them and gives the jargon on their 'extraordinary' properties. Of course I'm half dazed . . . like a shy wilder beast being caught off guard by a Lioness. Then she says if I have a girlfriend and again not too look a prat in front of this pretty lady I say I have . . she's called Grace (please don't ask how this happened because I really don't know!) Anyway the sales lady washes my hands and pulls out this fancy nail kit gizmo. She proceeds to polish my nails whilst we small talk. "What do you do for a living?" Again the I make it up not to look a prat, "Oh, I'm a writer!" "interesting" she says, "what do you write about?" and I reply "oh only History". The young lady (probably 25!) smiles and ask's me what my age is . . . "oh 23!" and then "what does your girlfriend do?" and I reply "oh she's in marketing". Again I'm hopelessly lost and putty in her hand as the lies flow. As she finishes polishing my nails (which now look like the manicured nails of a Turkish Bagshandi [Hooker in English!]) she asks me how long I've been with my girlfriend and do we live together, "oh around six months and yes we live together!" Again it feels like I've been taken over by a alter ego. She reply s to that "oh its still fresh! How lovely!"

To cut a long story short I end up buying some hand-cream that I will never intend to use (because I'm not a bloody pansy) and a snazzy nail polishing set. And no I'm not telling you the price I'm too ashamed of myself. Anyway this sales lady had such a memorizing effect that I walked off feeling as happy as a fox whose graduated from the University of Foxing-ton with a Masters in Cunning. The outrageous thing is that I feel happy because the lady wishes me good luck in a career that I don't have and hopes the girlfriend who doesn't exist is pleased with her little surprise!

I'm sort of in a state of shock! I thought I was good at shouting Bolshevik abuse at Capitalist pigs. But this women was good she made me make up a fake life so I bought her items. The worst thing is never did I feel angry at her for being a Capitalist Hoar. It felt perfectly natural!

(I was going to make this into one of those morsel's people say on facebook you know like "Oh pygmy, the vampire pain inside my heart is twisted into a gazillion pieces . . . I long for thy fangs to bite into my tender bossom of fleshy happiness!" but the ruddy thing would not fit . . . apparently you can only put 427 words up which is crap because one should put a whole 2000 word story up if one wants to!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)"

Just a quickie if you don't mind?

"My life is changing in so many ways..." - Neil Young, A Man Needs a Maid.

So this is more of an update than anything else really. A lot's been going on and I haven't had a chance to write for a while.

Where to start? Ok, well university ended, and for better or for worse, I had to leave Cambridge and return to Ashby. Many a melancholy day was suffered.

Had Ben's birthday which was a riotous storm of incredible consumption and decadence (I believe this is a worthwhile description and believe he'd approve. Maybe even gift it the Charles Atlas Seal of Approval. Who knows?).

Job hunting came and went as I begin gainful employment tomorrow morning. I have a spiffing new black suit with which I intend to impress and charm anyone and everyone with. If they so wish it or not. I feel a suit lends me both the impressive and charming air as if by magic.

I spent a week at Benter Parcs. In this week we managed to watch Inception twice, the various trailers 97 times and listen to the soundtrack while performing mundane activities (and shaking martinis) around 438 times. It lent drama and epicicity (oh yes) to every situation. Getting dressed was suddenly a race against time in which consequences would be dire if not completed before the kick. Getting undressed became the same but also sexy. And consequences would never be the same again.

Now I await my father, as I intend to relocate to his abode for a while to get settled in my new job in Nottinghamshire. I'll try and keep you updated as to the whethertoos and whyfors of my life in the near future, however, I fear I shall be busier than I could normally anticipate.

Having run some quick diagnostics, I can confirm the injoke density on this post to be not only the highest yet, but to rival most of the blogs on Myspace. Congratulations me.

I hope this found you all well,

Cheerio!

PS: More detailed and rambling updates in the future, I promise.

Photographic evidence is permissible in court.

The photos from the super lil road trip we took are here, and there's some pretty ones here including one perfectly illustrating the ability of Johnson and I to talk absolute nonsense. I believe in the final photo we are arguing over coffee. Spectacular aren't we?

Mad propz (that felt awfully wrong) to Flo who is the photographist of these.
Find her and more of her at her Flickr.

The Mavericks are(n't) playing (thankfully).

With a recent upturn of the weather once more in the, now clement, environs of Cambridge I has doubtless dawned on you all by now that summer is in full swing. Tis a season of BBQs, wearing linen, parties going on longer than is strictly acceptable, not to mention an excuse to drink almost all day, and to indulge in the delights of Pimms and gin and tonics to an excessive degree. It all rather makes me want to play cricket, even though I usually have no care for the darned sport.

Anywho, I thought I might just fill you all in on my life so far, in the thinly veiled hope that someone will find it vaguely entertaining, thus validating my need to have a blog in the first place. However before that, I might suggest that someone buy me this:

I believe the words I'm looking for are "immediately if not sooner".

But obscure, mildly homosexual wishlist aside, what has been "going down"? Well after my final exam, I attended the psychology BBQ with friends, and wandered off into town to get so horrendously trashed I was held up by 3 people at one point I'm sure, while I attempted to get service.

After that it's been balls and parties left and right.

Summer ball was a rather wonderful success, with booze a flowing, and a wonderful equilibrium being attained by all, having to judge alcohol/food intake alongside bumper-cars/mechanical bull riding time. Thankfully messless...

This was followed by some small downtime hanging out with Flo as she visited Cambridge, and chilling before the advent of May Week.

May week, for those not in Cambridge/Oxford to witness it, is the week of all the CU and OU balls, garden parties and larger socials. This equates roughly to a week of open bars and the excuse to dress up.

Cue the Gents' garden party, a day of May Bumps (observed from a pub), the World Cup drinking excuse, The Wyverns' Garden Party (Magdalene College Drinking Society) complete with Jelly Wrestling, the need to get drunk, Brad's BBQ (not a huge event, more sort of... A friend's house warming), then just an evening of watching Trinity Fireworks (which I missed, but drank in honour of) and then a morning of gin fuelled breakfast. Tonight is the John's College May Ball and despite my lack of ticket I anticipate Matt and Ben fulfilling my quota, while I visit Doom HQ.

Where is this all going? Am I just bragging (of my alcoholism) or does it have point?

Well if I'm honest, I'm trying to say a farewell to Cambridge. My current lack of a job has made it that I will find it impossible to continue to live here for now. This saddens me greatly. This has been my home now for three years, and I feel that it should continue for now... Alas, I am, as of yet, unable to source work. C'est la vie.

I hope only that I can return soon enough, and re-indulge in this hedonistic life which university has afforded me. Frankly I've had an excellent three years here, met some wonderful people and can't really face leaving it all. Much disappointment all round but thanks to you all for the time.

I feel proud to have said goodbye to the ol' place in this fashion.

Cheers Cambridge,

Elliot.

Wikipedia is not only my god, it's also hilarious

Just a little update today having seen the greatest Wikipedia article of all time about Greg Staples a Sheffield based artist whom Ben (housemate) has had dealings with, and built a website for.

This is the article

Never have I seen a better entry than the line: "Staples best known for his work in the weekly British comic 2000 AD, especially on Judge Dredd. His son, Brian Staples, is known as a fine fellow."

I have never been happier. I can only assume Brian is the author of this particular article...

Next update will tell you about the hilarious man we heard on the way back from the One O'clock Shoppe.

Stay tuned for that absolute gem.

Road trips and room mates

Evening all, been a bit of a funny ol' week just gone, but was rather lovely all round!

So there I was at uni, printing some stuff off, chatting to Shane and Tash when I receive one of those mythical, epic Johnson calls.

"Spirrett, what are you doing tonight?"

"Revision and stuff?"

"No, you're getting your sleeping bag, your drink and you're going to get drunk and go on a road trip with me."

"But I have-"

"Do it."

"Ok."

2 hours later on the road, I realised I'm going to have to ring Flo as discuss tomorrow (I'd planned to meet her in London), and it worked out that I probably wasn't going to make it at any decent time... Sad Elliot was sad.

So we went to Kent to pick her up. Eventually.

I have a tip for you dear readers. If you ever go to Kent, and you ever want to find anything other than main roads take a very detailed map. We must've drove every road in Medway before being able to find her house, and we had Ben on Google Maps. It was beyond ridiculous how poorly laid out a town it is.

Anywho, after much more driving (and failing to find a suitable place within the towns to sleep and chill), we decided to try the country. Kent, as well as having inadequate signage, is also something of a stranger to anywhere you can park a car and not be surrounded by scum apparently.

So anyway, after a while driving, we find ourselves on Sheppey, which is kind of shit, but we end up on the coast road, chilling on a little hill, right in front of the beach, drinking and chatting nonsense, eventually watching the sunrise and then hitting bed. Next day we wake up, and it's stupidly hot, so we drive down into Kent again, for food, and after breakfast we wander about a bit, and then head back to Gillingham, and happily convince Flo that she should come to Cambs. It wasn't difficult.

So then Flo came to Cambs and we spent days in the sun reading mildly pornographic material around children and drinking excessively.

Fantastic.

And now Flo is going to move to Cambridge. Whether she likes it or not :D

So that was my week. Hopefully pics to follow soon from Flo.

I have a good feeling about June.

Peon voices say work work

Hello again you!

Good god it's been a while now hasn't it? I promise you I have an excuse! It's been months of working, reworking, testing, retesting, signing, dining, drinking, winking (it had to rhyme) and an election to satirise (vaguely).

So my dissertation is done and handed in. My other essays (bar a long story) are also done. I have an exam in June. And today the sun shines.

So what first? You don't want to hear about my work, so I won't go into detail. Needless to say, I'm extremely happy and more than a little sad that it's all over. I'm sure you can sympathise!

Election: many of you know I voted Conservative. They won. Get over it. I won't go into my reasons but suffice to say my reasons were good enough. I just hope that if the next four years goes well that people will be able to climb down off their high-horses and say "Yeah, they were the right men and women for the job!", and not just keep the old prejudices.

I had a birthday. That was lovely! Thanks to everyone who sent me messages, sorry I couldn't reply to them all but they were very sweet!

I went punting with my Amy and Ben G, which was nice and between the three of us we managed to get drunk enough that we could still punt, but not talk particularly well. This is deemed a great success in my home country. Of England.

The night was equally spiffy, I would assume.

So all this so far has had something of a theme and leads to a point... I'm getting old(er). Soon enough I'll have to leave uni and enter the real world. It's a terrifying thought, as I'm sure you can appreciate if you're in a similar situation. Especially considering I may be woefully under-qualified for any job in my chosen industry.

I'm worried a fair amount, and I don't think unjustifiably. But then I guess most students are in this position. Hell I assume most people looking for work are in this position. Then again not so many of them are attempting to find work in an industry that's just suffered its biggest setbacks for some time... Oh well, we'll see.

Dad asked what my plan B was. And my C and D.

I told him I'd join the Navy. He seemed pleased with that idea. What have I done?

I think I have decided on my summer looks, and I think they mostly contain beige. It's a non-colour to most of you, but I've fallen slightly in love with the idea of beige and everything it can offer me. Is this possibly the most ridiculous statement I've made? No. But it's up there. I stand by it nonetheless. But srsly, I've got my chinos and my deck shoes, I'm totally ready for summer. If only my Ray Bans weren't in Manchester :|

I feel like this is something of a non-post, but it was an attempt to get me back into the swing of things I guess. Not that people care I'm sure!

Oh well!

Until next time (where I promise to offer you ramblings and musings, both of which will be bollocks), have a wonderful day!

Oh, and this: how excited am I? Very. Why? I get to see Flo again soon. This makes my life! ^-^

Fred Astaire and Ginger Rodgers star in

YES!

Finally wore my top hat.

And went as far as my own doorstep. Disaster.

But soon...

Hello there you,

Sorry it's been a while. I've been super busy and rather unable to think of anything I thought worthwhile to talk about. But then again I've never yet found anything worthwhile so that shouldn't stop me.

So what's going on? Well mostly I've been writing my dissertation and a lovely essay about the nature of diagnosing autism, which has been interesting to a point. Mostly though I've been attempting to change myself. I started running. I didn't get very far. I did a few days, and I failed to keep going as per everything thus far in my life. It worries me that I get into something in a short term fashion, and get bored of it easily. Does this transfer to more serious matters? Will I ever find a job where I'll stay interested long enough to make a career? Will I marry only to find I am uninterested? Will my children bore me to tears with absolute nonsense about their day at school and the latest incarnation of the pokémon card (more than likely this will happen, children bore everyone with this nonsense it would seem. I know, I was a children once!).

But where was I? Ah yes, changing myself... I took a few steps; I rewrote my CV, I applied for a MENSA home testing kit, I agreed to a new regimen of working and many other promises. I failed thus far to achieve anything of note. In 20 years.

I have watched the entirety of The Thick of It, and In The Loop though. That's not a notable claim, but it is an amusing situational comedy anyway.

I got my top-hat for Christmas. I've yet to find a suitable occasion, outfit or weather system for it. Galling.

I've lost weight, yet failed to consolidate on this position and continue to lose weight.

I've given up smoking. So much. A day. Fuck that.

I've argued with people I would otherwise get on with. I've retreated into my room. I've eaten ready meals (something I am opposed to wholeheartedly). I have become a social pariah.

I hate this bollocking university.

Still. It'll all be over soon.

I'm sorry that this wasn't an update more than a moan, but frankly I'm not in a hugely great mood of late.

I just sneezed all over my screen. I have no intention of cleaning it, and I didn't even derive pleasure from the sneeze, something I normally do.

Tomorrow I'm going to get up, drink tea, read the economist, play golf and do some work. Hopefully I can think of something more interesting to write and something more light-hearted to say to you.

If you're reading this, I probably love you. If you're not, you won't know that I have called you a buffoon and an imbecile and that I probably don't love you.

Apologies again for the rant.

Retraction

Dear Mendeley,

I cannot create computer programmes. I cannot write code.

I apologise for my rage.

Thank you for your support.

Yours,

Elliot

Mendeley Desktop

Dear Mendeley.
Your programme Mendeley Desktop has been nothing short of useful while it has worked. But therein lies the problem. It does not work. It is a pile of horseshit masquerading as a programme.
I wish to read my PDFs. I wish to read a specific one so that I may write my dissertation and get a degree.Your pile of computing bollocks will not, however, allow this. Any sub-par grades received from here on out are to be blamed entirely upon your company. I shall be billing you for a wasted year at university if this occurs.
Kindly fuck right off, and take your shoddy bucket of blood-tainted-piss you have marketed as a computerised academic tool with you.
Sincerely yours,
Elliot Spirrett

PS: Adobe, you are as much to blame for the invention of this stain on the face of technology which you call the PDF format.

Oh and Haddock, I know you're reading this. Stop being a cunt.

Broken Britain? Pause for thought before putting us down please.

For those of you that have read my blog before and have been surprised (and amazed) with the amount of inane toss I've been able to produce (or seemingly pull from thin air), here's a slight change...

Having just read an interesting article in the Economist, I wanted to take a different and uplifting track with this post, so here it is.

British police have just reported the lowest number of murders in 19 years.

Murders of children has fallen more than two-thirds since the 1970s.

Britain used to have the 3rd highest child murder rate in the rich world, now we are 17th.

Burglaries and car theft are roughly half as common as they were 15 years ago, and the onset of recession has not reversed this downward trend either.

After a long period of increase, there is evidence to say Britons are drinking less alcohol.

Drug consumption is dropping overall (though admittedly, some drugs including cocaine are becoming more popular).

Smoking rates are among the lowest in Europe, lower than France, Germany and the OECD average.

A girl between 15-19 is now half as likely to have a child as her grandmother was at that age, though some of you may find abortion rates which have risen by 31.4 per hundred between 1969-2007.

Though her partner will unlikely marry her or stick with her than men in previous generations, the same girl is a lot less likely to be beaten by him.

Finally, victims of violent crime both with and without injury have fallen greatly since 1995.

Sorry for the list of statistics that may seem boring to some, but frankly, I find this all rather heartening.

Enjoy this knowledge when talking to Americans.

Ta ta!

Oh and:

Goodnight Sweet Prince!

Ian Carmichael, the original Bertie Wooster died this week.

Gents the world over in mourning.

Not a real post obviously

But I'd just like to whinge about how terrible the Jack Wills party was. Full of kids, no real drink, the bands were ok but no one was watching them, and frankly this season isn't that great a range. Especially those godawful £90 shorts in pastel pink.

I may now go cry. Have to find a new favourite.