Certain events

During one's life there are certain events that happen to you and makes you feel different for a long time afterwards. The list is long, but your first kiss, the first time you fucked, your children being born, are good examples of positive events that make this differentness occur. However there are negative variants, one of which I shall share with you now.

It all started last thursday as I met a friend for lunch, and a nice afternoon in the park. Now it this point the first few beers were enjoyed, and a few more friends suggested an evening on the town. I of course said yes, as I have the willpower and strength of Shane McGowan when it comes to having fun with alcohol involved.

Now, as the night progressed I started drinking a lot quickly, as I could sense an argument brewing between me and a few others. Contrary to the mainstream of the population, I calm down a lot when I drink. Fast forward a bit to a point where I remember buying a beer and a shot at the bar. Bang! Blackout.

I wake up at some point on a very flat matrass. It was covered in plastic and blood, and so was the pillow. I touch my head, and it hurts like a motherfucker. Also, my hand turned sticky from the blood. Confused i lay down again, drunk, and besides, i didn't really want to know what happened. Later on i was awakened by a very stressed out nurse, apparently i'm not supposed to be falling asleep as I have a concussion. I was in Hospital! Well fuck me, im drunk, its kind of hard not to fall asleep with an alcohol percentage higher than my blood pressure. Anyways, a few hours on i start to remember a few small things. I shall repeat them in order of occurance.

1. Me being in a completely different pub from my friends
2. Me using a credit card to buy two shots of "gammel dansk"
3. Me + the long stairs at the bishop = Me falling down
5. Me sitting on the pavement while the bartender calls the ambulance, bleeding more than a lesbian festival
6. Thinking "oh fuck" in the ambulance

Then blackout again. Keep in mind, these are all 1 second memories from a time period of maybe 8-9 hours.

The damage report the doctor gave me stated that I had AKUTE alcohol poisining, and also a series of serious cuts in my scalp. In addition, most of the backside of my body was covered in small cuts and bruises that no one could explain. I also had to pay 300 kr for them to staple my head together. After the payment was taken care of, a friend that came to pick me up and we left trying to piece together last nights events.

Btw, my blood alcohol was still 2.0 seven hours later. That means drunk, folks. I probably would be sent home from a pub if i tried entry ;)

So i guess this is the He-Man moment where i explain the lesson of this.

1 Absolutely no weekday drinking, unless work is taken care of (that was also a problem with being held for twelve hours, people at work tend to be annoyed when you don't show up).
2 No booze, under no circumstanses, only aquavita at christmas because its tradition and it tastes like shit.
3 Less beer, at no point during the last 18 months has me being drunk led to good thing. 60% mediocrity, 35% too drunk for fun, 5% dangerous events and encounters.
4 No drinking when angry and/or seriously uncomfortable, as it leads to violations of points 2-3
5 No pubs with many and narrow steps to the bathroom
6 A little break for now

There you have it folks, a longwinded story with little or no payoff. Tune in next time when i write about my clogged sinuses and related health problem. Bai

Picture this

Imagine waking up one morning and realising that you wasted a majority of the last 3 years doing something that bores you to tears. Imagine the effect on morale when the gradual lack of enthusiasm you harbour has produced mediocre reading, with comprehension of what you're supposed to be learning, falling lower and lower, page by page. Also, this has led indirectly to my being basically held back another year, making me even more bored and angry. Exams are now three days away, and i have yet to have read more than an half an hours worth of syllabus this semester. The horror.... the horror...

So, I have decided that I would at least dedicate half an hour to something creative, and vaguely fun, namely writing. Join me, while I explore passtimes that are more fun than reading ever growing amounts of political theory, and european administration.

1. Consuming alcohol.
It makes conversations more bearable, it gives you energy, and when consumed by larger groups it sets the table for a lot of fun and schenanigans. Social sciences does none of the the above, in fact, they often bring the opposite effect.

2. Reading history
History in most forms are more enjoyable than the social sciences. History tells the story of human development, and tries to explain how and why certain important events occured. Social sciences are to a large degree dominated by ideal models, semi-accurate theories, and too often tries to generealize before the subject matter is ready for extensive analysis. Therefore attempts to learn the material seems futile, at least when compared to the drama of history.

3. Blogging
Writing blogs is a creative outlet, and lets me speak my mind, no matter if someone cares or not. Writing termpapers is not creative, it does not allow much room for opinion, and professors tend to care if the paper is shit or not. Blog epic win!

4. Love
Love is great, because every time it occurs, it's different. Also, it makes you feel good, perhaps the best feeling in the world. It's even creative, as the ebb and flow of a relationship leads to a lot of fun interaction, and sometimes horrible heartache. Studying the EU blows because it stays mostly the same for YEARS at a time. You almost shit your pants when a new topic hits the light of day. The EU has never made me feel good. Ever. In addition, my input towards the EU is bound to have little impact on the union itself. It leads me to believe that I and the EUs relationship is one-sided, uncreative, and I think its time we broke up.

There you have it folks. I could have continued the list, but I think my dear readers get the point, I chose the wrong academic line, and so I pay for it now. No matter, I will be fine, I always end up on my feet. Life in general is better than studing EU and social studies.

How pants change

As most people know by now, getting fat sucks ass pretty badly. You don't notice it as much in the beginning. It usually starts with blowing off the gym for longer and longer at a time, blaming it on an injury, or a bad hangover (Btw, also great reasons for blowing off work, or the neighbours dog). Then, after 4-5 months or so, you quit all together, seeing as the body you got after all that hard working out will last for a long time anyways.

So after a while, following many orgies of beer and hot-dogs, you notice a slight jiggle as you walk down the stairs. You notice the belly, wrapping nicely over the pant-lining as you check your facebook. And you notice that as years pass, the holiday pictures you have shows you gradually turning into a mushy orangutang, holding an umbrella-drink to chase that shame away. Worst of all, you notice your mother stop critisizing you for having low self-esteem and direction, and starts to poke your stomach when your eating, while asking " are you proud of this?"

Some time after this, you notice that every kind of exessive heat has lost any fun. Sweat has a lot of trouble escaping from the entire fatty groin area, leaving underwear worn at any season other than winter, as a wet matted rag of uncomfy cloth. Also, fat peoples assholes smell a lot worse, mostly due reason mentioned above, so a 2 times a day underwear change is a minimum.

But it doesnt stop there folks. Recently i ruined my 4th pair of jeans because i took a long stride down some stairs... You see, what happens is that as one gains weight in the thighs, the fabric right under the balls keeps rubbing, rubbing, and rubbing together, as I walk, losing more and more fabric for every inch of upright motion I can manage. Eventually the unevitable event ensues, usually when i'm drunk. I start falling down some stairs or anything comparable, then the akward landing, and so everyone can see my badly maintained underwear. In light of these terrible events, i'm now a khaki-guy, one step away from the classic sweater-vest, or green tweed.

In essence, getting fat blows, but strangely enough im still contemplating if its worth it getting back in shape. Probably not. Ill just eat less, im good at starving. CIAO

Hello

Well, i guess this is my first blog. The reason for the title of my blog is pretty straightforward, I am a young man, with mediocre achievements so far in life, at least compared to what was expected from me. Also, my pants are, for the time being, uncomfortably tight due to an untimely weight-gain, due again, to too much alcohol and too little general movement on my part.

Also, i started this project as a new posibility to procrastinate even further any type of schoolwork, housework, and also to avoid talking on the phone. I really hate talking one the phone. Thats why I text a lot. Put two and two together.

What this blog will be about i haven't really decided yet, but probably it will end up with being a few pages of boring pontificating until i lose confidence in both subjectmatter and self-censorship, and thus leaving this page to fail in the blog wasteland.

Stay tuned for my first topic. CIAO