Lazing On A Sunny Afternoon

Another weekend, another shiny new blog for you all to devour. I don't like saying 'all', I really should accost some fans some day. Though maybe if I leave it as is, it'll become a cult classic, to gradually be hailed by the whole world. I'll be like Emily Dickenson - uncovered in years to come!

Yeah, now I'm just being a twat. Back to my weekend...which was surprisingly very quiet! We'll ignore Lou and I getting far too excited about 'I Will Survive' coming on at Millie's 18th and me plotting to murder the exceedingly rude barmaid. I asked for a drink and you'd have thought I'd very crudely asked for a sexual favour by the way she looked at me. What a bitch.

On Saturday, I had an eagerly anticipated lie-in, having booked a weekend of death-row pardon (that's 'weekend off work' to you lot). However, my slightly groggy, sun-dappled morn was broken by the sight of my little brother hobbling into the flat. He informed us that he and some friends had been having a snowball fight at three in the morning, when he had slipped and heard his anklebone snap. In an attempt to be tough and manly (and, I suspect, delirious with pain), he had slept over it, which only exacerbated things. A taxi to the hospital with Mum and he was safely in plaster without having shed a tear. Almost causes a lump in the throat, does that brave little soldier - sniff.

After that, it was time to go to Tom's for some much-needed mash potato making. De Facto, Jen and Keef came over late afternoon, as we had all decided to see 'Cloverfield'. Having shared the most rubbish bottle of wine ever (like vinegary water for £8...proof money can't buy you everything), we trotted off to Cineworld.

I myself am a rather avid film connisseur, but I'm not beyond making immature comments during the trailers. The best one had to have come from De Facto, though. An advert for STIs featured some incredibly attractive people getting hot and heavy, though they were wearing garments with 'Gonnorhea' and the like printed on them. De Facto, very loudly, claimed 'If I'm honest, that'd put me off!', causing me to choke on my peanut M&M's in a fit of giggles.

Something that completely tipped me over the edge was a trailer for - wait for it - a U2 concert...in 3D. As a well-known Bono-hater, I was heard loudly muttering 'What a fucking cunt!' and so on, until Tom had to shove a handful of popcorn in my gob to silence me.

As for 'Cloverfield' itself, it really is much better than your run-of-the-mill modern horror film. Handheld camera work managed to save it from being too clichéd and we were genuinely chilled at the prospect of a monster tearing up Sheffield as we left the cinema.

Sunday was rightfully peaceful, so Tom and I drove down to The Old House for pub grub and then wandered round Topshop. I was originally going to allow him to meet the mother, but with the flat looking like a war hospital, I thought better of it.

Tomorrow is Elie's band's gig at The Harley, as well as some educational fun, it being a Monday and all. Until we meet again!