Christmas: The Finger Buffet

I never knew why Boxing Day was called Boxing Day, I thought it had something to do with sport, but no. According to the Student's Life Guide, Wikipedia, it was a custom in the UK for tradesmen to collect "Christmas boxes" of money or presents on the first weekday after Christmas as thanks for good service throughout the year.

Like this.

From my own personal experience, this is the day that Mother of Me brings out all the scraps and pieces of food that no-one was willing to ingest in fear of exploding on Christmas Day. She calls it, the "Finger Buffet".

I have never completely understood why we would be convinced that this food is more edible and appealing that the day before based on:

A) It has been chopped into smaller, "finger-fun-sized" pieces

B) It has been placed precariously onto a plate that she holds less dear than the expensive ones used on Christmas Day

C) She declares to the house (with great pride and satisfaction) that the "Finger Buffet" is ready, DIG IN!!

Let me make this clear, I feel no personal need to basically eat what would have been a nicer meal yesterday when I was slightly (HA) intoxicated, high on "new present fumes" and safe in the knowledge that I won't have to eat for another week or so, in the fear that if I do, I will be what medical people call "Morbidly Whale Formed".

Farewell,

:)

Christmas: The Train, The Student and the Old Person

To explain the story, I live in Southampton, and due to the UKs inability to cope with the snow, and any form of cold in general. I had to travel up to Yorkshire on a train, the only form of transport that works, and that is plagued with delays and other tedious wastes of time. But I had a seat reserved, so everything was well with the world.

I have discovered that trains combined with long journeys have more in common with a soul destroying demon dog than they do with the real world. They are pure evil. You can always guarantee that there will be a small child in front who feels the need to play their own version "peek-a-boo" which usually revolves around them staring at you, over an extended period of time, and not getting bored.
Horrible fact number 1.

As well as the child who has a weirdly long attention span, there are the token old people, who have adopted the ideology that the world owes them because they are old, wrinkly and have a hatred for anyone under 30.
Horrible fact number 2.

Horrible fact number's 1 and 2 were combined on this particular journey, and the old person in question was a particularly nasty specimen, she didn't like students, end of conversation.
I had a massive bag with me which I had managed to drag onto the Train of Evil, and put on the seat next to me (as there was no-where left in the storage bit).
I saw her coming from the bottom of the carriage.

I had 3 options.
1 - Smile politely and move the bag
2 - Stare out of the window as if I was in deep thought
3 - Pretend to be asleep, put my I-Pod in and hope to hell that she went away.
I chose option 3, but she didn't go away. Boo.

She came over, her eyes livid with the jealousy of youth and vitality (me...HA). As I feigned sleep with evry fibre of my being, she started poking me.
I kept the façade going as long as I could, but she was one determined old biddy, damn her!

To cut a long story short, this is how the conversation went:

Her - *Poking with her pointy talon* You, you there....you!
Me - *Grumbling* What?
Her - *Poking the bag* That shouldn't be there. I want that seat. (keep in mind there were about 10 other chairs dotted around)
Me - Well where else is there to put it?
Her - Anywhere but the chair, I want it, move the bag...
Me - Where else is there to put it?
Her - Anywhere but the chair, I want...
Me - Yes, you've made it clear you want the chair, please by all means, if you can find me somewhere else to put the bag and I will move it, and you can have this seat
Her - I want THAT..SEAT!!

She gave me the dirtiest look, mumbled something in the Tongue of the Old-Person, and shuffled off. She then proceeded to have a go at some other poor victim who had a handbag on the chair next to her.
Both bags were moved, and she sat next to me, Boo some more.
I took the I-Pod out and started to read, she took it upon herself to eat the biggest and loudest bag of crisps ever. Evil EVIL WOMAN!!

So, I put the I-Pod back in, and turned the music up as far as it would go, Hallelujah for overly-loud earphones that Boyfriend brought.

Victory was mine, she didn't look happy, but accepted her fate.
Good on her, she had the determination to have that for another 5 hours, at intervals of 20 minutes.

Farewell

:)

Life: Go Compare Guy

There are no real words to portray my hate of this individual. I understand that he is a character that has been created by a multi-national insurance corporation, and they are purely selling a product. But drug dealers are selling their products, and I have no lost love for them either.
He is the epitome of what is wrong with the world. Combine him with the X-Factor, snakes, PDA's (Public Displays of Affection) and socially-inept people, and you might as well hand me the gun now.
Every time this TV advert comes on, I feel the rage spiralling up inside me. The occupants of the room seem to have learnt a method of telekinetic-foresight that allow them to dodge the flying objects that will suddenly hurtle towards the TV with the speed of shit off a shovel.
This is how the situation nearly always ends.

I hate him. He is the bane of my life. I will hunt down the creators of this advert, and destroy them.

Farewell

:)

Life: The 3 Deaths of InDesign

May InDesign be forever the bane of any student's life.
Even breathing the word "InDesign" can bring any student to the floor, sobbing quietly in the feotal position, in a pool of their own dribble.
This is from my experience anyway.

In reality, we just slowly simmer until the end of the seminar and then hold an 20 minute long discussion on how shit InDesign actually is, how it is putting us off existing, and should be destroyed.

So I dedicate this to you, students who hate InDesign CS5.
I have come up with my 3 main ways, in which it should be destroyed.

1) Be sacrificed by a host of strange, mutated animals who hunger for the secrets of STICKING TO THE FUCKING BASSLINE GRID!! and making all their images HIGH RESOLUTION, THEY MUST BE HIGH RESOLUTION!!

2) Be sent back in a time machine to a few hundren, million, gazillion squillion years ago where that meteorite thing hit the world and destroyed the dinosaurs. The Big Man Up Above (aka. God) sent this massive hunk of flaming rock down to kill the dinosaurs because of the fact that they DIDN'T USE PAGE FURNITURE!! SHAME ON THEM!!

3) Be framed with the death of an innocent little bird, and placed infront of an animal rights protest, where it will be ripped to shreds. The animal rights protesters will say they destroyed the evil InDesign because IT HAD TO BE TOLD FOR 3 WEEKS IN A ROW WHAT A COLOUR WAS!! Hang your head in shame InDesign, red and green should NEVER been seen!!

And this was the 3 ways in which I see InDesign being destroyed.
Hope you enjoyed,

Farewell,

:)