End Game

As April approaches with ever increasing speed, I can't help but notice my teenage years are disappearing with the same alarming velocity. Hence why the updates are somewhat few and far between: my life is being plunged into the depressing vortex of 'being in my 20s'. So I try and summerise the past two and a bit weeks:

Favourite falling incident: Claire, on the Firewater stairs where BOTH her shoes came off.
Best illegal moment: Coming into possession of a 'Twenty's plenty' sign.
Top creative project: Guess Who? Kelvindale Edition with all your favourite characters such as Lewis, Mrs Ronald and Carrie.
Greatest expense: Getting a kilt
Most beer filled evening: Mhairi's 20th birthday
Optimal irony of the month: A birthday party that was fundraising for the British Liver Trust... with a free bar.
Questionable drunken choice: Limbo dancing.
Most expensive smoothie: From Zest
Most overplayed song: That one from the end of the Skins finale... I just can't stop myself.

LLY LN and general business

I have had an excessively busy few days:

Thursday
Said goodbye to our dead body. She's been good to us.

Went to Lily Allen at the Carling Academy. Getting there, I went by underground - this turned out to be a foolish move, as I had forgotten that stupid Rangers were playing a stupid Spanish team at stupid Ibrox. Therefore the train became ridiculously busy with fans of the aforementioned stupid teams... I did find the Spanish fans sporting giant red wigs particularly amusing.

The concert itself was pretty awesome... at one point Lily Allen (or Lils as I like to call her) was standing next to us, and she was so wee. Yay high. This didn't stop the concert from being ace.

• Highlight = cover of Heart of Glass
• Lowlight = stupid drunken man who insisted on talking to me

I then went to the HIV. And went home after about half an hour. I'm cool that way.

Friday

From this day forward, I had to weigh all the food and drink I consumed. Sometimes I confound even myself with the stupid things I involve myself with.

Went to an art school partay and drank:

• 525ml of Strongbow Cider
• 470ml of White Wine

Saturday

After the excesses of the previous night (see exact quantities above) I did not get to bed to 3am... This would be fine, if I wasn't getting a bus to Edinburgh at 10am. The combo of slight hangover and excessive tiredness was NOT pleasant.

The reason for the Edinburgh visit was twofold:

• To watch the rugby in a bar beside Murrayfield (apparently I have no idea what happens in a rugby match)
• To visit Sheona, in her delightful flat in Marchmont

All went well, Scotland lost (apparently) and I found Sheona's flat without a problem (and I didn't resort to getting one of the bicycle rickshaws... which was really tempting, I had an amusing image of turning up at Sheona's door with the sound of the stupid bell on the rickshaw... it would have been good).

On the way back to town, on the Royal Mile I almost fell onto my face after slipping on a condom. This would have been embarrassing, much like if (for example) I was sick... in Fat Boab's... on the floor... after 4 drinks.

THEN when I got back into Glasgow, I was rushing to catch the Kelvindale train and thought that I would save time by using the self service ticket machines... just use the card and it will take 2 seconds, none of this fannying around with a real person. Unfortunately, my card didn't work, so I had to use the cash one - having only a £20 note, I put this in without thinking... Just as it disappeared into the machine, the thought 'I wonder if it gives change in notes'.

It did not. I stood there for about 15 seconds as £18.30 dropped agonisingly slowly. People around must have thought I was a super retard.

I ended the night at Claire's, where there was much hilarity and drinking. By this point I was feeling decidedly ill and tired, and thought that a night at the Garage was probably not the best remedy.

Sunday

Today was spent at the stupid Old Firm game.

It was cold. I was tired. I felt ill. The game was shite. The fans were (the usual) scum of the earth.

That is all.

Nine Inch Nails live up to expectations

As ever I went to the Carling Academy with an open mind - Nine Inch Nails might not be as bad as I expect.

Wrong. They were pure pish.

The lead singer apparently wants enough smoke from the smoke machines so that he 'can't see his microphone'. This indeed happened and for the first 15 minutes, we could not see the band at all (which, as it turns out, was a good thing as they turned out to be: middle aged, boring and unattractrive). Now I don't like to generalise (actually, come to think of it, its one of my favourite things to do) but I noticed several things about Nine Inch Nail fans:

• they smell
• they have bad hair
• they are awfully stupid

I base the last one on a woman who came up to me when we were standing upstairs (in blue boiler suits and a fluorescent yellow jackets emblazened with 'FIRST AID') who asked 'Could we make the smoke machines stop'. Now I'm never one to denigrate the importance of first aiders, but when was the last time you thought 'Hmmm, I don't like the lighting in this venue... I know, I'll tell the first aiders, they'll be able to use one of their triangular bandages...'. I can only assume that NIN fans somehow mistake the words 'St Andrew's First Aid' for 'Stage Manager' or 'Smoke Machine operator'.

The only song I recognised was 'Hurt'... and it made me appreciate how much better Johnny Cash's version was.

I bet his fans smelled better too.