Wednesday, November 5, 2008

I spoke too soon!


On a straight path leading directly to Liverpool, John Brown managed to lead us into Wales. How does he keep doing this?

John Brown's group


John Brown, professional orienteer and FanWalk guide, has developed a bit of reputation over this past week. John has a special talent for getting his teams lost in seemingly straightforward navigational situations. When you're following Mr Brown it is a case of the blind leading the hung-over. His infamy has reached the stage that the other guides now join in with our desparing laughter when we are told that he will be leading us. At the moment we're walking down a direct path to where ever we're going (I've completely lost track of where we are) so it'd be difficult for him to get us lost - difficult, but you know somehow he'll manage to 'pull it out of the bag.'

'I can't believe we're going to the EMAs tomorrow, that's, like, tomorrow'


...said the girl in front of me on the bus. To be honest, I'm more excited about the bonfire party tonight. I know that the EMAs was always the final objective of this voyage into the unknown, and the after-show will be amazing, but I prefer the company of my new-found friends than celebrities with whom I no doubt share a mutual contempt.

Sean's reaction to the FanWalk champion, Dirk


Sorry this is so short, it got butchered in the editing suite.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

The sweet taste of innuendo


The Friday before the start of the FanWalk I went to Club NME at Koko in Camden with my best buddy, Andy. I go to Koko quite regularly, I love it, but that Friday was the first time I'd seen them stock an energy drink called Pussy. 'Pussy?' I said to Andy, 'that'll never catch on. Who's going to want to buy a Pussy?' (insert name of celebrity caught up in prostitute scandal). 'You'd not catch me with a Pussy in my hands' I added, somewhat homosexually. Then I get on the FanWalk and soon find out that Pussy, an MTV sponsored beverage, is the official drink of the FanWalk. Now I'm addicted to the stuff! On my first night I downed three cans before bed and got 2 hours sleep as a result. Another night I had Pussy-inspired headache due to drinking too much, and yesterday, during the walk, Sean and I were drinking double vodka Pussys. Now the next time I see the drink I will feel compelled to buy it, for memories of this week and the Pussy innuendo. My favourites all come from Sean: 'I'm on my third Pussy of the night,' 'I love the sweet taste of Pussy,' and, 'Oh no! My Pussy's dried up.'

Sean is dead


It was just a normal morning. We were walking through a wooded hill when suddenly we were ambushed by partially sighted bird assassins (I say assassins, they didn't hit a bird in 20 minutes). Sean made a break for freedom, but when aiming at a bird 50 metres above his head, a marksman ended up capping Sean in his ample buttocks, fatally wounding him. Just before he died, Sean uttered his final sentence: 'you can take my life, but you will never take my Pussy!'

Tamara


Meet Tamara. Tamara is from Malta. I've never been to Malta before but I've been told it's almost exactly like Narnia, but with more mystery. Tamara's hobbies include: being photographed in the morning, eating apples and owing me money. I wrote a seemingly friendly message in her book yesterday, but what she doesn't know is that if she reads every 18th letter of the message it spells: I want to kill you. Despite this, Tamara is my friend.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Westlife


Just checked in to our lovely Spa hotel. Westlife's number-one hit 'World of our Own' was on one of the music channels. I love the obligatory key change near the end. Just thought I'd share.

Superfluous signage


There are many superfluous signs in this country. I'd argue that, although hilarious, the above is an example of one; I doubt that anyone is prepared to sue the manufacturer of sexual stimulants for an unexpected orgasm - it is justifyable because it's beautifully worded and evidently it inspires debate. Another favourite is 'Slippery When Wet'. If I I've learnt one thing from this fanwalk it's that things in which water plays a large role are usually slippery: ice, slippery; mud, slippery; fish, slippery. Perhaps the slippery when wet sign should be placed next to cutlery at restaurants to stop over zealous meat eaters from accidentally stabbing themselves in the leg with a steak knife. 'Can somebody please remove these cutleries from my knees?'

'Such a charmer'


We've just been busking on the rain sodden streets of Birmingham for charity. Busking, and raising money generally, is all about picking the right people to approach and then hitting them with enough charm so that they're willing to part with their recession endangered cash but not so much as to make them want to punch you and steal the money you had made thus-far; it's a delicate balance. Fortunately I'd done a spot of fundraising before so I think I was reasonably competent today. One guy did threaten me that if I approached his girlfriend with my philanthropic pursuits her father (the Chief Commander of the Birmingham Police - allegedly) would have me thrown in the slammer - my words not his, people don't use prison slang enough anymore. However this was tempered by the young banker-type who (in a time when the security of his livelyhood is arguably at its most precarious) gave me £4 and a warm handshake, the banker's equivalent of a loving embrace. All told, a good morning I think; our group made £41.88 in an hour.

The problems of predictive texting


I was writing 'I'm sharing with Sean' but I missed the 'H' key. Honest.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Saturday round-up


I've not been too diligent on the old blog posts today, I've been too busy living the dream. Since earlier on we've set up camp in our army barracks room and dominated the bowling lanes. Team Sex Pistols might not have knocked over as many pins as the winners, but what we lacked in talent we more than compensated for in enthusiasm, celebrations and banter. I've gone hoarse from screaming everytime we knocked over a pin, giving motivational speeches to the team and laughing at some frankly ridiculous bowling.:d Now we're back at camp and the alcohol has unfortunatly dried up; I've drunk so much energy drink that I've given myself a headache - totally worth it. Special mention should go to Sean, with whom I've laughed (constantly), cried (with laughter) and sung Arctic Monkeys with tonight. Rock on Young Pretenders!

Saturday round-up


I've not been too diligent on the old blog posts today, I've been too busy living the dream. Since earlier on we've set up camp in our army barracks room and dominated the bowling lanes. Team Sex Pistols might not have knocked over as many pins as the winners, but what we lacked in talent we more than compensated for in enthusiasm, celebrations and banter. I've gone hoarse from screaming everytime we knocked over a pin, giving motivational speeches to the team and laughing at some frankly ridiculous bowling.:d Now we're back at camp and the alcohol has unfortunatly dried up; I've drunk so much energy drink that I've given myself a headache - totally worth it. Special mention should go to Sean, with whom I've laughed (constantly), cried (with laughter) and sung Arctic Monkeys with tonight. Rock on Young Pretenders!

Saturday, November 1, 2008

The Roast Cow Inn


We're all a bit knackered after walking all day and eating much cow, not roasted, sadly. I've just heard Mr Brightside followed by Sex on Fire on someone's phone. I wonder what songs with odd lyrics like that actually refer to? Sex on Fire sounds like it's about some particularly vicious STD, and The Killers are always writing nonsensical lyrics: during the title song to their second album, Sams Town, they sing: 'put your back on me'. WTF?

Aquatic bird racial equality


Look at the different aquatic birds of varied creeds, colours and species mixing and playing in unity. It's beautiful. The Young Pretenders win again.

More fictional place-names


They love 'em in this part of the country.

Welcome to Berkhamsted


We're not cheating, just stopping for the use of the Berkhamsted Station amenities, which are noted in hiking circles for their lavishness. I'm sure Berkhamsted is a fictional place. It's like they've taken three place-names and joined them together. Any fool can do that, just today I created: New Hampingtonshire and County Windslemingtonbry.