2012: The Round Up

So the curtain has finally fallen on 2012, another year and another wrinkle on the great ball sack which is the timeline of my life. Now 2012 has actually been quite a year. A year in which I have gone from prolific procrastination and wild activities of a brave and heroic nature; such as tumbling elegantly over Grade 6 waterfalls with the grace of a high jumping walrus, to becoming a studious, hard working engineer, destroying with equal grace mathematical equations so hard they make male porn stars look like undercooked pigs in blankets.

It has been a year to remember, if not always for the right reasons. Missing out on a first class honours degree by 2 percent perhaps one of the more frustrating experiences of the year, up there alongside my failure to fulfill my life long ambition of sleeping with Jessica Alba. Perhaps this year, another degree, another chance.

In other news, and one I have been warned by some may put off the huge following of teenage girls this blog enjoys the frequent visits and lovingly typed love letters from: I recently acquired myself a girlfriend. I of course make this sound as if i purchased said lady, perhaps from a dubious thai black market dealer of such items, but this is simply not true. I actually went about it in the semi traditional way of wooing a friend using the art of long distance seduction, black magic and rohipnol. To say this is recent news is also perhaps not strictly true, and to assume readers would be interested in reading this may be a step too far, but this comes from an author who regularly writes of such things as the magical powers of his gentleman parts and dull metro train journeys, so really, what did you expect.

The lucky lady...



So Christmas has come and gone with the bedroom speed of an inexperienced teenage boy, and the New Years party went down with such a bang it made the UFC look like a tame kindergarten brawl. Of course no one was seriously hurt, except the pride of a certain Mr Grant and Mr Farrow who discovered just who was the boss by the hero of this story. At least that is my version of events. The teeth marks in my left ear might suggest otherwise. It should also be noted, as a New Years resolution and just as general useful life information, that at no time is lemon juice an acceptable or suitable eye bathing fluid.

Mr Grant being bossed around like a little school boy


Anyhow, bruises and macho strutting aside I now find myself planning and packing for the long journey back up to the cold and distant North. The romantic lure of exams beckons, and off I must go. Only half a year left and ill be back down South, safely in a job...

Or... ill fail my exams and ill be the one busking on an over-sized guitar on the street, wailing like a gutted boar trying to earn pennies for sustenance. That or turn to high end prostitution for the middle aged spinster. Time will tell. On that note, back to work. If ever there was an incentive to work hard, the threat of becoming an old, greying, hair-lipped widows play thing is a good one.