Bazooka that veruca

So I was in heeerfvdrreeerfhjeegrfeggeerededeedddeddddd, which is a small town in Holland, to see motorhead play Ace of spades and some other songs that sound just like it.

Much beer was consumed by me and my companion. Ace of spades was, well, Ace of spades really. At least they turned up though, not like some high class entertainers I can think of. Yes thats YOU Im talking to Phil.

So the gig ended and we left herfeeerdhehrhehhdhehhdhehehehdhhereedeedddeed, and we were given a lift to Alkmaar, which is a small town in Holland. From Alkmaar we got on a train where we immediately encountered the sidekick of The Man With Microwave Eyes, The Ticket Inspector.

'You have a ticket?'

'er... nope'

'Go and get one then'

So we gets off the train, which was still at the platform, walk down the platform looking for a ticket machine, give up and get back on the train via a different door. Me and my travelling companion then decide the safest option is the age old haven of the ticketless traveller, the extended bathroom stay.

So theres a knock at the door.

Still we wait. Tick followed Tock. Another knock at the door.

My companion rustles some paper and spashes some water in order to shake off the man at the door.

We decide to scarper but in about a minute so that whoever it was will have found a new toilet or got bored.

We emerge...

Straight into the evil clutches of The Ticket Inspector, who we were already aquianted with.

We leapt to our own defence. My companion had instructed me to act Italian as that might be the deciding factor in securing hospitable treatment.

Me: 'Ima soa Soree, I ama Italiano, mea noa havea anya Maney'
The Ticket Inspector: ' that will be 48 Euros'
Me: 'Buta Iya hava noa maney'
TT: 'Well then get the fuck out of my face and get the fuck off my train'.

So we were ejected from the train. Unfortunately the train wasnt moving so I didnt get to alight from a moving train and roll down a hillside like what they do in films what i've seen and I was thus unable to complete number 46 on my list of things to do. There arent any hills in Holland anyway.

So we found ourselves in Fuck Knows Where, Holland, which isn't a small town in Holland.

Seeing as that was the last train we'd just parted company with, I got My Thumb out. Me and my Thumb go back a long way.

Some nice bloke gave us a lift to the intersection where the road leads to Amsterdam.

Unfortunately that was a motorway. By the time most drivers see a hitchhiker when they are on the motorway they are already two hundred yards past or it requires an exquisitely dangerous emergency stop. So all in all, it was a rather piss poor position to be in.The contingency plan was then created. We walk down the road for about a mile to the services, where we would be able to procure a lift and if that failed, at least it was indoors.

Off we set. It was like the modern day equivalent of the Canterbury tales. Except we weren't on a pilgrimage. And there was only two of us. And we didn't tell any stories. And we weren't aiming for Canterbury.

When we had about four hundred yards left to walk, I heard a car approaching so i got my trusty thumb out and by jove, it worked. The car signalled to pull in and slowed to a halt. The joys! The relief washed over us like warm rain on a summers evening, only to be replaced by the cold damp soul destroying drizzle that feels like the piss of an incontinent sailor on a monday morning after your pet rabbit gonzo has died of cancer.

The car was full of policemen.


After being told with a very straight face that walking down the highway is strictly prohibited, he got his breathaliser out. Now i didn't know it was illegal to be drunk in charge of yourself, but apparently it is. Somewhat predictably, we both failed by some considerable distance. Consequently we were charged with being 'drunk and disorderly and having a negative effect on the highway' or something equally bollocks. This was accompanied by a fifty Euro fine.

Thatchers Britain eh?

This is Weird

Bored readers may recall that I rubbished the threat posed by The Man With Microwave Eyes.

Well obviously TMWME has started to exert his unsettling influence over my life in response.

Firstly, I was in a literature class, and a girl had an eppy fit. Now I dont mean she got a bit stressed out about the overarching themes of The Importance Of Being Earnest, she had an epileptic fit. To an inherently useless man such as myself who has no skills, be them First aid or jungle warfare, I was a bit taken aback.

Secondly, I saw England and they didn't smash up Amsterdam.

Thirdly, I went to febo and the Burgers were unlocked! The joys.

D) Despite the England fans good behaviour a few days later I was in a Dutch student bar and it turned into the bar room brawl from How I Won The West. Glasses everywhere, ashtrays in peoples faces and stools over peoples heads. It was truly mental. Afterwards it was like the dressing station at Roukes drift.


Then I went to see Phil Collins. Weeks don't get stranger than that.

England Schmingland

So I went to the game. I cant be bothered to talk about the meat of the game. That'll happen somewhere else I presume.

The England fans didn't seem too bad, but by that I mean they didn't set fire to Rembrandtplein or desecrate any churches.

Either side of the international-football-superduper-extravagnza-a-thon ive been on a drink hiatus thats lasted a colossal 'few' days. I shit you not readers. However, fear not, I'm not turning into a big gayer.I shall be returning to the drinking arena this evening with avengeance.

Libraries gave us power

The location of the Book I Need is apparently the 12th floor. No probs.
Wait for the lift, or to our cousins across the pond, the elevator.What places lift/elevators are. What is the expected protocol in a lift?. Look up? could do. Look down?. Turn to the feller next to you and say 'bit tight in here innit mate?'. Fuck knows.

12th floor. Entrance to the library on the 11th floor. Ok.

After much delay I find said reading material. Excellent work our kid, youre a legend.

'Sorry you cant borrow these books, theyre from the reading room'. Not the end of the world. Ill write my essay at the university. Piece of Piss. Ill be done in time for tea and scrumpets.

7th floor.Computer room. Access denied. Only Social Science students can access these computers. Didn't want to use their mickey mouse computers anyway.I'll nip down to the facultiet de letteren and hop on the P.Cs there. Easy.

8th floor.Facultiet de letteren, computer room. Access denied. Incomprehensible mix of computer speech. My good will is evaporating quicker than Dennis Rommedahl with amphetamines up his nostrils.

to the help desk.
They ring The Man, who sorts out computers. Not in.

Back to the library.Woman suggests I CAN get the books out for one day at a time. I will thank her but only after I find the correct order of Playing the are you what at fuck.

Nowt queer as folk

Well I got a bike.
It took some time but it all came to fruition eventually.
The friendly man who deals in bikes originally offered me a bike similar in stature to that ridden by Krusty.Needless to say I sent him away with instructions increase the size of his merchandise.

Other developments at OurKid Towers include a highly educational trip to the sex museum.
Now I like a phallic symbol as much as the next man, but I have my limits.Having said that what do you expect for three Euro? A Dutch man providing a voice over on the different types of penis? I know thats what i hoped for.

Operation Softly Softly

I wait.

Tick followed Tock followed Tick followed Tock.

A man walks past who looks like George Best. I'm tempted to shout 'where did it all go wrong George' but then I remember that Georgie is no longer with us.

I turn to the newspaper. Apparently, The Greeks have been poisoning British tourists. Or Carbon monoxide, it adds almost as an after thought. Never order the feta cheese salad with extra CO, I say.

A man walks past who looks like his wife ran off with the milkman and sold all his Led Zeppelin albums including the one signed 'Jimmy Flange' by a pissed up John Bonham.

Biscuits give you venereal disease.Thats what the Guardian says.

A woman walks past so uneasily i think she may be made of blancmange.

Time ebbs and flows.Some times I check my watch and 10 minutes has passed.Sometimes a few seconds. The gracht flows beneath me and people flow beside me.
I zone in and out.I think about things to buy from the shops.Cheese, Cake , Cheesecake, biscuits.Better not buy them actually.

George Best returns and walks towards me I now begin to suspect that he is a Mental.
I suspected correctly. He asks me why I'm sitting on his friend.Im sat on some sort of stone sculpture. I have absolutely no idea how to answer that question.I see out of the corner of my eye that Mrs Blancmange is staggering towards me.I wonder if Ive always attracted mentals like this.

All of a sudden a man shuffles up and says 'fiets?'

To be continued

Science Scmience

These are heady days, readers, should I say, reader, heady fucking days.

According to the BBC, a team of scientists has successfully created an invisibility cloak.

I know what you're thinking, 'does that mean I can buy an invisible suit like what Solid Snake did have and then walk up to Tony Blair in Prime Ministers question time and slap his face using a wet kipper thats been soaked in petrol?'

Unfortunately you cannot.

On closer inspection the team had 'managed to hide most of a copper cylinder from microwaves'.

Now that will be all well and good when we get attacked by The Man With Microwave Eyes, but currently I think thats a big fat load of nothing.

Dead important Secret Science HQ, somewhere underground...

'Hey Bazzer, shall we have a go at curing cancer?'
'Nah mate, Lets hide all our copper coins from TMWME, and afterwards Im going to paint some antelope green and then play a slap bass guitar solo at them'

War! huh, yeah! what is it good for

So another isolated island of utopia between the oceans of the week draws to a close.

What a load of pretentious shite.

The enclave that is the 8th floor appears to have developed some enemies.
As part of the 8th floor contingent myself I'm beginning to become slightly obsessed by this.

Firstly lots of food went missing.Bread, pizzas,cheese, shallots, cosmic dust from saturn, that sort of thing.
Then we were subject to a latenight viscious and entirely unprovoked condiment attack. It was like Tarantino had filmed reservoir dogs in a kitchen in the suburbs of Amsterdam using sauce, no actors and a complete lack of dialogue.

When I was empowered by Fink brau yesterday I decided to hide in the kitchen and wait in order to catch our nemesis with crimson mitts.

I took a seat on the sofa next to the bear.
'Whats up?' I asked him.
No reply.Bear was keeping schtum.
'come on', I said, 'Don't be like that'.
The bear sat there, with that huge smirk on his face like he was laughing at me.
I proved to him that I too, could play the silent game.

In the event I soon quickly tired of my vigilante ways and the conversation simply wasn't good enough.Never try and talk to a three foot inanimate bear called Harold when youre motivation is wavering.

Living for the freak end

Another working week draws to a close. I use the term working in a most loose manner.

This is the list of stuff what i must still complete.
*I still need to buy a new bike. I dont like being johnny NO bike.
*DO some revision
*Do some essays
*Buy some beer. ( this is an ongoing quest)
*Create a massively popular website and sell it to Google for a trillion Euro Dollars
*Become a virtuoso on piano and be able to recite Rachmaninoff's opus 23.Or whatever its called.You would have thought composers would come up with more catchy names.Elitist Bastards.

Our Kids bet of the week, in a new feature which I will certainly abandon instantly, Is Derby county to beat Birmingham city 15 -0 and England to beat Australia by 11 wickets.

I hope to be back with an amusing anecdote about badgers later.

Peace out

A hoy hoy

Well its a good job I didnt promise to update every day, as i would have broken it, par excellence.

However, I have a reason. 'Oh no you don't', I hear you cry.

Well I do.I went for a short break in the capital of the EU, Brussels.

Very Enjoyable it was too.
Whilst I was tempted to shout 'BACK OFF BRUSSELS!' Like a right wing wanker, I didnt think my international compatriots would see the irony.

Im sure youre familiar with manneken Pis, it really is amazingly dissapointing.I had prepared myself for the dissapointment, yet i still was.

It really is the most overated attraction since the magic stone of Alvaston, Derby was unveiled.


Needless to say I bought some choccies .I picked a small yet attractive box and the woman behind the counter said ' ah hello youre Englissh yessh?, That'll be 15 000 Euro please'.Or something similar.

She'd better enjoy every last one .Even the coffee creams.

After that we retired to a chinese restaurant where I asked for the special but the poor lady apparently mistook this for 'I'd like a plate of chicken soaked in lemon jam please'.

Education just doesn't seem to be fun anymore

So then it goes like this.
You havent got the correct number so you cant print.

If you cant print then you cant hand in this assignment.

If you cant hand it in you will fail.

So thats that then.

Now Im not going to go down the line and suggest that every other European country is SOOO WEIRD, because that can be nauseating, But they do like an incredibly complicated system here in the Netherlands.They also like beer.This, now THIS is a principle.
They also like food that comes out of little walls.This is incredibly convenient after a bucketful of heineken.But administration? Forget it.
On a sad yet inevitable note, Derby County got knocked out of the 'one of the cup's we dont do very well in' on penalties.
Well at least we can focus on the League.Ahem.

My shitty little room gets that little bit shittier

Evening

Apparently theres Bedbugs in my room.
However, as the letter informing me of my new roommates states, 'Don't worry Bedbugs are not indigenous to the Netherlands'. Well well well.Thats alright then.
This to me suggests that the Bedbugs may be holidaying here for a while. A short weekend or a maybe a stag do.

So I head down the shops to get some 'BedBug deinterester' as I like to call it.
Then a thought strikes me.The only way to get rid of bed bugs is to get rid of ones bed.

I buy some matches.
And eight cans of Heineken.