Uggh

Warning: Mini-rant.

It's a fifteen minute walk from my flat to the physics building at uni. Last time I did it, I noticed something, so I started counting.

It's still only September. It is not OK for me to have been able to count 35 pairs of Ugg boots* teamed with skinny jeans. That's completely out of proportion with the way things should be. Because I was there, I also feel completely justified in saying that everyone wearing this combination was a student. Once upon a time being a "student" implied not only that you had some intelligence, but also some taste. Guess that's not the case any more.

Y'know, I don't even hate Ugg boots. I used to, but now I understand; they're actually exactly the kind of fashion I wanted to start happening. They're not screaming "penetrate me now" as a person slightly more vulgar than I pointed out (doesn't count as being vulgar if you're quoting), but they're also not completely hideous. They actually score neutral on the aesthetics front.

This matters little by itself. Clogs score neutral for goodness sake, but that doesn't make people pay over £100 a pair for them, nor does it make them wear them incessantly, nor does it make them fashionable. What works for Uggs has to be teamed with the neutral appearance: They are incredibly comfortable. Incidentally, Crocs failed for a different reason - apparently quite comfortable, but completely foul to look at.

This is actually from having worn fake Uggs. Any student who pays for full price Uggs whilst on a normal student budget should not have got onto their course on account of being an idiot.

Back to the thirty-five pairs I saw. It's not acceptable, I won't accept it. So I'll give a guideline for anyone who's too stupid to be sure of what to do. This is, after all, a slightly contradictory rant if you're IQ dropped a few points after that terrible accident. Or if you're a twat.

I won't be a bitch to you (about your Ugg boot - skinny jean combo) if you don't wear them until October 20th. Yes, even if you're living in Glasgow - this isn't the god damned North Pole. Get over it. Wear a scarf or something.

If you fail to do this I will not give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you don't have any other shoes. I will instead assume that you are a waste of human flesh that could be put to better use in a Matrix-style pod, providing renewable power for the rest of us.

When I get my degree, I'm totally going to develop those pods.

*This includes a pair of male Uggs, or Muggs as I shall be wittily calling them from now on. Not sure how I feel about Muggs, but it's definitely not a good feeling.

Third Circle

So, I moved into a new flat about 10 days ago. It's around twice the size of the old one, the bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom and hall are all much larger - which is excellent. Naturally I was pretty excited by the prospect.

However (if you've spoken to me at all in the past few days, you'll already know this) the previous tenants were all completely insane. They lived there for two years, and I don't believe they ever cleaned. Ever.

There are signs that they planned to. There was a cupboard full of recycling, behind which we found cleaning products. This tendency to start with good intentions and excellent plans, and then just give up on them is evident throughout the flat. For example, it seems they were into their music, abandoned speakers were in every room, and they'd all been wired up so you could control them from a single point in the kitchen, or individually. They'd started the wiring well, it was neat in some places - in others they'd pretty much dropped the wires on the floor and pinned them to the nearest wall.

That's another point leading to the suggestion of insanity actually; they've left behind tonnes of technology. As well as the speakers they abandoned a classic mac (complete with floppy drive, but no usb ports), an unused 3-in-1 printer, a projector, a handful of amps (if you happen to have massive hands), a tv, and much more!

It's like a shit treasure trove. We even found a couple of lobster creoles. I quickly vetoed the guys suggestion that we keep them as conversation pieces. I reckon I can talk about lobster creoles, even if I've thrown them out. Hell, I'm blogging about them.

After spending a full week cleaning and working our way through the general carnage that was our new abode, we were in a position to use it without breaking into screams of despair every few minutes. Which was nice.

We're now on the DIY stage. Having thrown out most of the broken furniture (no idea why the last people wanted to keep it) we're sanding down and staining the good items. Not doing so would have resulted in splinters. We're also painting walls, ceilings, skirting boards, doors and any other surface that requires it, read: all of them. Soon we'll be able to sand and varnish the floors.

So, I'm asking myself two questions about this place.

Firstly, how exactly did the "people" who lived here before not get extremely ill from living in their own filth and die? Instead of moving away, did they in fact simply "move on?"

Secondly, how much money can I get out of my landlords for leaving the place in such a state? If we didn't have a week's overlap where we had the keys to both the new, and the old flat, we would have needed them to put us up in a hotel for a few days. If we all worked full time, we would have needed them to employ cleaners, joiners and painters.

I'm thinking that we probably deserve the deposit the last tenants paid when they moved in. At least. So, I'll be visiting the landlords at their office next Friday afternoon. I'll be asking for a long list of things, and I won't leave until I've got all the ones I actually want. Could be a looooong day.

P.S. Sorry for neglecting the blog and not being especially funny lately. What with moving, work and study there seems to be little time. I promise to try harder in future ;-)

Licked

There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who feel the need to lick their finger before turning a page, and those who do not. I suppose technically there's people who believe that there's two kinds of people, and people who actually know there are many more. There's also people who smell their clothes before putting them on, and those who already know all the clothes in their wardrobes are clean. I don't know where these groups intersect.

When I turn a page, I do not first lick my finger. I wash my hands regularly, I have a keen knowledge of where my hands have been, and yet I still do not lick my finger. I have always found that the pages turn without that being necessary. I cannot help considering it "icky" to have saliva on the pages of anything I'm going to read.

Mum is a licker, dad is not a licker. They should have known from the start that it would only end in tears.

I do not judge lickers. There's nothing necessarily wrong with being a licker. Some of my best friends are liquors. So long as you don't want me to handle your document after it's been moistened that's just fine.

It's also important to note that some things are OK to lick. Envelopes are fine, so are stamps, lollipops, and the tops from yogurt pots. It's OK to lick your fingers if there's food stuck to them, though, in most cases this should be done with minimum fuss and no seductive gazes at people across from you.
Especially if you're a guy. And/or in your 40s. And/or clinically obese. In which case failure to comply may mean that I'm forced to sterilize you. Sorry, it's the rules.

It's OK to lick salt from your hand before a shot of tequila (another excellent liquor, possibly because it makes other kinds more bearable). Though you should only do so if there's lime wedges handy.

Perhaps I am more of a sucker than a licker. It seems that anything that can be licked is likely to be better sucked. At least that's what I'm told. It's certainly true for the lollipop.

Pink

It was my birthday a couple of weeks ago, and I was very grateful for all of my gifts (even the ferrero rocher from Worby, that I reckon he probably picked up at a service station on the way in. They taste the same wherever you buy them from. They taste good).

I am going home at the weekend, since my parents didn't see me at my birthday, and want to see me now. I don't trust my postman, and its best not to ask why, because the rant's a long one. Anyway, they agreed to give gifts when I came home, though that's actually by the by.

As well as the FR from Worby (bless him) Nick's parents gave me a Thorntons box. I've always felt that being fat wouldn't suit me, my ankles couldn't take it, so I put both boxes of chocolates in the kitchen so my flat mates could have some. They did, though I suspect only out of the goodness of their hearts and concern for my delicate ankles.

I like chocolate. I know some people claim that they don't, but they are lying/robots. I thought I liked all kinds, even that 80% cocoa mass stuff, that people claim is too dark, I think it's perfect. I like white chocolate too, and all the weird flavours green & blacks do, though I've never been brave enough to try the chili one, I have put cocoa in chilies, and it works.

I have one question: What the hell do they put in the pink goo in the centre of the chocolates that are suppose to taste like strawberries? Seriously? They taste like cancer. Gone are the days when I could take a chocolate without looking at the "menu card" on the box, claiming that it doesn't matter because "I like them all". Now I have to carefully try to dodge the nasties, ideally without anyone noticing, the last thing I need is people thinking I'm fussy about chocolate, or they might stop giving me it.

5 Things I'll Never Understand

1. Footless tights.

You're wearing tights because otherwise your legs will be cold, yet you somehow think that your feet won't be? I only realized you could buy these about three years ago, I couldn't figure out why, but I bought a couple of pairs anyway, just to see if there was something everyone knew and that I didn't. My feet got cold.
I guess maybe they're to attract foot-fetishists without looking too slutty.


2. Bloody Mary's

Generally speaking this is an early morning drink, or a hangover drink. It's got vodka in it. Now, as I've mentioned before, I don't do hangovers, but one the two occasions when I have, the thought of more booze has only made me feel worse. I do do breakfast, and at breakfast time, vodka seems not actually repulsive, but definitely bad. Vodka with your cereal is a bit much really.

Also, if you're going to ignore the above and decide that it's just a cocktail (which I guess is valid) then that's fine. Until you read the ingredients list; vodka, tomato juice, Tabasco sauce, Worcestershire sauce, black pepper, celery stick garnish. Some people will tell you to add horseradish. Could someone please try to explain to me why you'd want to drink that? It's spicy!


3. Wave-particle Duality.

I can relay explanations parrot-fashion. I can take some numbers, put them into the right equations and come out with answers that are somehow "correct." I can not work out how matter/light can technically be described as two things at once, and that it knows which one to be when you're dealing with it in a certain way.


4. International Obsession with Dan Brown Novels.

You'd think the vast majority of people didn't read real books at all. I admit to having read "Deception Point." It was ok. Not amazing, not eye-opening, not worthy of awards, just ok. I guess people never get bored of conspiracy theories. But they should, they really, really should.


5. Crotch-Topiary.

Just... No. There's no words left. Please, for the love of whatever you happen love the most (unless what you love the most is shaping your pubic hair), get a hobby. Or, just don't talk to me about it. Or in fact ever. That'd be great. Thanks.

Classically Trained

oI used to do a lot more reading than I do lately. I would read anything and everything, and there was rarely a book on my extensive shelves that I hadn't read at least once, and since my shelves make up about 80% of the literary material to be found in my home, it is not surprising that I have read mst of the books in the house.

However, I was looking at my shelves last night, and it seems that in my absence my collection has grown and changed of it's own accord. Something which naturally delights me, especially since I've recently discovered a gorgeous little second hand book shop in Glasgow (just off Otago Street for anyone who wants to find it) and have been growing and changing my collection myself.

So I was starring at my shelf last night trying to decide what to pick up next, and ignoring the books on inflation that I have to read for my essay. In the end I decided to listen to an audio-book of Catch 22 I picked up a couple of weeks ago. However, it seems that Nintendo heard my silent prayer of indecision, and sent me an email today about their new DS Game.

100 Classic Book Collection

As far as I'm concerned, putting a selection of classical novels on a DS cartridge does not a video-game make. Even if it does come with an "interactive bookmark" whatever that is. It seems that Nintendo is running out of cute, quirky ideas.

Now, I got curious, and I discovered that the most recent novels in the selection provided by Nintendo were written by D H Lawrence (who died in 1930) and Arthur Conan Doyle (who died in 1930). According to Wikipedia, "the default length of copyright is the life of the author plus either 50 or 70 years."

I am therefore quite certain that even the most recent novels on the cartridge will be freely available on the Internet for those who like reading things on a monitor. Presumably then Nintendo will be offering this "game" free for anyone who wants it? Or will be charging a moderate sum for the materials and programming time that went into creating it?

I will thank them however, for providing me a checklist. I will read all the books they think they can sell to people in "game" form, but in an easy book form instead. I've already read 28 of them, which I actually think is pretty poor, and plenty of the others on the list sit unread on my shelf.

This could be a damned good project, and will sort out my hobby problems for a while. It will also give me a good excuse to go to that bookshop and squander my student loan. At least it's virtuous and will make me seem all cultured and well read.

The only disappointing thing is that I have to start with Jane Austin because she's at the top of the list.

Pffft, as if I can be bothered with Sense and Sensibility, I'll read about Inflation first.