Football, Fish and Chips, and Double decker buses

I’m told I will not be able to escape this country without choosing a football club as my own. One of my flat mates is a Liverpool supporter and the other is…. I can’t remember, but I think it’s East London or something like that. I’ve enjoyed watching football on tv, however I have never known who to chair for as I had no reason to choose; often I would just end up chairing for the team who was loosing, you know, being meek and all. Fost has been a Manchester United fan so I hear this and that about them, and we always seem to be Man U when we play video games so I’ve gotten to take some interest in them. That and it upsets my flat mates who are both die-hard.

I’ve been doing a lot of reading and writing since I’ve been here, and the lack of screens to turn on has meant I get to sleep at a better hour. You know all those things people tell you about how your life will be if you get on a proper sleeping schedule? Well, they are true. I have energy all day because I go to sleep around 11pm, and if I go after 1am my body knows it the next day. Last night I went to sleep at 1:30am and had a good sleep in, but I was dragged out because I had been on the computer for about 2 hours, here typing out my blog. If you don’t know what I’m talking about you should ask Pete Laing who told me that steering at a screen before you go to sleep upsets the natural course of your brains shutting-down-process, or something like that. So this one night I’m writing and reading and doing some prayer too and I get a hankerin for a walk outside, so I go for a walk at around 10:30pm and after about 5 minutes I run into Malcolm my flat mate. He’s on his way back from the pub and asks me if I want to go for I drink. I tell him I don’t drink but I’ll go along, so he buys me a coke and orders a beer for himself. But when he orders the bartender points over to his right and says, “You have a beer sitting right theyr”. Sure enough there is a glass ¾ full which Malcolm had not been able to finish some 5 minutes past when he had first decided to leave the pub. We sat and chatted a bit, watching a bit of telly before making our way home. The walk was hilarious as Malcolm was telling funny stories and analogies of his weeks events at work. On the way home we stopped in for some fish and chips, however I was too full to eat any because I had eaten shortly before I set out. Malcolm had a fish and chips which was cooked in one long piece about a foot long at least, and three inches across. The fish stays in such a long piece because it is deep fried with the skin still on one side, but this means you are eating a skin that is a bit slimy and not crispy like its illustrious cousin, the pan fried. When we got home Peter was still up so we chatted in the kitchen and had a few laughs. Malcolm ate his fish and chips with a punkin pie (I think that’s how it’s spelled) on top, which is much like the meat pies of Sweeny Todd. I had to enquire about this habit and Malcolm replied with, “This is why I’m strait Cockney”. What else has happened?..... I’m starting to forget what I’ve told and what I haven’t, which is why it is important that I get up to date.