Tag Archives: drinking

Being sober in a club.

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Apres Avant-5.6.10 - 125We all know the drill with nightclubs right – drink, dance, smoke – increasingly frequent toilet brakes – then repeat in various different combinations – strangely the dancing usually consumes more of your time the more drunk you become. The experience, however, is entirely different when your not overspending on tequilas or dancing with single ladies your convinced want a piece – it is like a minefield, of crazed hormone-erratic  maniacs trying to seduce their woes into a numb salvageable pain.

The over-squirted scent of bubblegum and candyfloss cascade whilst bass-pumping and ground thumping speakers try their hardest to do the minimum amount of damage to your eardrums – and without the warm arms of alcohol to insulate your body standing in the cold is like taking a dip in an ice pool!

The weirdest thing is you start to try and justify what you’re doing, and why your trying to dance in that way, or pretend to smile at music you have no interest for, maybe trying to amuse yourself with two measly bitter-sweet drinks knowing that you can’t have anymore because you’ve got to drive home – either way, its like the worst experience in the world.

Even just trying to hold a drink among the screaming intoxicated rabble desperately trying impress their mates with a seemingly endless line of over-priced drinks is a mission. Just for the record the things that you think on a night out will be a great idea like people pretending to scream in selfies, or scantily clad women clambering tank-topped giants, with the elder gentlemen trying to fit in, gawking at what they’d wished they’d done in their youth – when your sober look damn right embarrassing, for all parties involved!

The  only solace that can be taken from an experience like this is that you realize you’re exactly the same on a night out – they are you, stumbling, fumbling and making an absolute fool out of themselves – a horrible realization – which has led me to the realization that clubs without alcohol would literally be the worst thing ever – like a year seven disco, replacing alcohol with sweets and fizzy drink!

Rule of thumb – if you’re going to a club sober, you’re going to have a bad time.

Power Rangers The Movie Drinking Game

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After coercing our film-loving, plot-illuminating housemate, Meg,  into watching the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. We decided that instead of watching this like the sober finches of the Galapagos, we would endure the ninety minute calamity-classic doing a shot every time we noticed a cliché catchphrase like “see ya later alligator” – Ivan Ooze, intentionally compromising pun “I’ve got a bone to pick with you” – White Power Ranger (whilst fighting dinosaur skeletons), and ridiculous music that is played over scenes of no importance at all.

So the rules are simple – a sip, of a prolonged duration for minor instances of cheesy: behaviour, lines, music, sayings, bad green screens – the key is to be understanding of where each incident could be categorically organized into a scale; so anything 5> would be sip and 6< would be a shot! The drink of course is your decision, the shot is always nice to have something between the strength of vodka but stronger than schnapps – not too much and not too little, that’s the dream!

After twenty minutes of rib-tickling, lip-smacking idioms of far too obvious description, a bottle and half of shots has been annihilated. Continuous hand shaking and rhino-mercenary but-kicking has lead me to believe that this is the future of student drinking games. Never before have over-dramatic news broadcasts, and villain-induced witticisms been so damaging to ones liver!

Just to mention: “uh oh, were in trouble” – is genuinely part of the soundtrack. They also have a giant red button which kick’s other specifically similar sized robots in the metal genitals – convenient.

During one scene, you may remember, a rhino explodes into thousand of pieces after being corkscrew kicked so hard – needless to say a lot of alcohol has been consumed. Not even mentioning the collective skating, hand shaking, cockpit-swaying, child-filled mono-railing, glass-shattering building shaking brilliance that the power rangers ensue,

One genuine issue about the film is the fist-pumping white ranger has to be the leader – of course, seems a little racist, considering the black ranger is reduced to being a frog! – well done Brian Spicer! Some may say it was a different time back then, others simply suggesting that being the black ranger surely the crotch is the most appropriate place for him – can hardly imagine the white ranger having an equally sized time down there – ah stereotypes.

So spread the word, drink the dream and think – what would Zordon do?!

Review: how i met your mother

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(May contain Spoilers)

In 2005 when Ted was an emotionally invested, love lusted know-it-all desperately trying to find his perfect wife – even signing up to “Yourperfectmatch.com” – it seemed as though the roller-coaster would never end. He was complicated, stupid and often just in the wrong place at the wrong time – which happens constantly. So, throughout the story he recaps indignant, self-loathing and character building moments throughout his adult life, until he inevitably – met the mother.

Then there was Barney. A sociopath womanizer, who dealt in numbers and clever colloquialisms always nudging Ted out of his comfort zone with games like “Have, you met Ted?” His character brilliantly brought to life by Neil Patrick Harris, of course. Barney transcends from a deeply troubled individual into a genuine person – which really was what let the show down in the end. After all those years of Lily nagging him to change his ways all it took was to knock a girl up – but what are you going to do?

Which brings us onto the perfect couple – acclaimed Mr and Mrs awesome – Lily and Marshall. The pair had their ups and downs but through it all they reminded us that love and life have no unchallenged paths – they’re long and meandering journeys that pushes one another’s boundries – bringing us to the finale!

The 43 minute episode follows the same style as the rest often flicking back in time to past events then to future events and then back to the present – trying to keep track of it, is somewhat difficult. The whole series that was spent leading up to the finale turns out to be a giant waste of time as just like before when Barney and Robin were together. They both ended up unhappy – maybe not because of over-eating or not caring for personal hygiene, but the result is and was still the same.

The mother, played by Christin Milioti, was a superb choice for the role. With giant boots to fill she was quirky, beautiful and an exact match for Ted. Over the last series she was introduced one by one to each of the other supporting roles playing a frequently influential part in their lives. So in the final episode it is confirmed that the mother had passed away due to “illness” – although it doesn’t, thankfully, specify an illness. I know is seems hard to handle but I genuinely think that was the only way they could have ended the show. The show has never tried to be a serious drama, or a serious comedy it just was – and why judge now when she gave Ted everything he’d ever wanted. Children, a house in the suburbs to call a home, someone to finish his crossword puzzles on a Sunday, a bass player, a dog lover – every ridiculous detail that Ted had ever chosen – Happiness.

After every great television show ends there is always a want for more, and they gave the audience a real development of the characters lives: changing, becoming increasingly more hectic, having children, finishing a night in the bar early to go home and working jobs they didn’t want to work to get by. Nonetheless everything worked out to some degree. If you had asked me four or five years ago who I wanted the mother to be – heartbeat – Robin. After everything that Ted had been through surely it stands to reason that he shouldn’t have to be alone because life took something from him. Now she isn’t technically the mother but it answers one question. It turns out that Robin was the reacher after all and Ted was the settler – oh, irony, you.

I for one am glad they didn’t butcher the ending with a fairy-tale rendition of how they always stayed in touch and still hung out in the same bar every-night, because that just isn’t realistic. It is after all just a television program, but I think it was a great example of the shows ethos: Love for as long as you can, because the universe has a funny sense of humour.

Goodbye, how i met your mother – you will be sorely missed.

Bénicassim – The Only Place You’d Ever Want To Be

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Last year, I lost my international festival virginity. After having only attended V Festival, I and my other two companions were anxious to see what the festival had installed. With only four months until the glorious, sun-drenched festival begins again the anticipation has already resurfaced – only this time, we know exactly what to expect!

The Festival runs, opposite to most British festivals, as almost all the music occurs during the evening and night hours of the day – giving the crowd a much nicer vibe and easing the heat situation – if only for a while. For anyone who hasn’t been to an international festival – Go, you will not regret  it.
(Included are some photos of my time in Bénicassim)

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One of the four headliners released so far has been Kasabian – believe me I’m going to be club-footing all over the gaff! After seeing them at V festival in 2012 I have very high hopes for them at Bénicassim. Tame Impala, Courteeners and Paolo Nutini amongst many other acts have been announced alongside the beat-banging, foot-stomping march that’s lead by the one and only Sergio Lorenzo Pizzorno! – Serge.

My first experience of being at a festival in another country was more than pleasant – I would, hand on the bible, state that it was the best week of my life, and best of all nothing went wrong: no one got hurt, our plane wasn’t delayed, nothing got stolen, broken, pumped, taken or felt – it was bliss.

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The first four days, really take you through the paces – 40 degree heat, trips into town to purchase food and cheap booze, not a great deal of sleep, waking up far too early, partying all hours of the night, being submerged in alcohol, scantily clad women and more sun you can shake a stick at – and that’s just the beginning!

There are many ways to be awoken at the festival including: being trodden on by stumbling passers-by, the warm coastal breeze, suddenly realising that your miles away from your tent, a pint of Castéllon’s finest OJ or, moving onto the luxurious way, the ice cold showers. Now bare in mind that the lowest temperature at night was a cool 25 degress. So in the morning all you could ever want is an ice cold shower – I must have had at least 6 a day, all equally spread out to cool the body instantly – glorious!

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The next four days, are a completely different ball-game, often not actually going into the festival arena until this night, the fifth night is probably one of the best. Everything is so new, bright and wonderful and the other friendly festival-goers are great! We had our own little triangle in the middle of all the stages which made it so easy for us to meet up if we were watching different bands – It’s what every festival needs – in the words of the Last Shadow Puppets a ‘meeting place!’

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As the festival draws closer and closer to it’s final night you’ve probably already checked out the beach – which someone we had been hanging around with swore he saw Liam Fray on the sandy-shores only for Liam Fray to turn round and affirm – “Yes, its Liam Fray” – and if you didn’t read that with a mancunian accent then you should at least feel disparaged. The water park – which has the best ride ever, it is life-threatening to go on that ride – seriously, almost died – is an awesome day out, although take sunblock you do not want to end up like Sid – embroiled with blisters and a sore lobster skinned back!

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After you’ve spent a week, guzzling beverages, overdosing on vitamin D, traveling to Aldi, struggling to get to sleep, sometimes not even getting to your tent, loosing various items of clothing to what can only be described as bad drunk decisions that makes you think throwing your T-shirt into the Courteeners crowd is a good idea (actually, I don’t regret a thing).

The beautiful thing about this years Bénicassim is that me and the chums know what to expect, how to handle the heat, the best time to take showers, not to use the cubicles during the day (a – there is no toilet roll (b – its like being trapped in the Sahara dessert that smells like 16th Century London) but the point is that we are prepared, for everything!

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A day in the life of Bénicassim:
you’ll spend your day, smoking, drinking, thinking, laying, laughing, talking, buying, eating, walking, sun-bathing, shower-taking, oscillating, perspiring  and constantly hanging – I’ve already got my 2014 ticket, the question is when are you getting yours?