The television has been monopolised by the person with the worst tv taste in the house. I'm tired. I want to watch True Blood. I fucking can't. So I'll write another entry to my blog, number 30 if I recall. 30 entries of mindless drivel, that generally cover these subjects: exams, university, social life, television. I do try and mention some sport from time to time, but I know that no one gives 2 shits about sport, so that doesn't count. One of which has already been mentioned. Let's see if I can name the rest.
What's happened since my last post? It doesn't help that I don't remember when I posted last, but it was quite recently, I think. Ah yes, how could I forget. The bloody election. Last night I watched the events unfold until about 1:45, then I gave up as I had an exam in the morning, but I'll get to that later. The debates got less and less interesting as they went along, the first one was actually very interesting, the second one was apalling, and by the third one I was more concentrating on my pizza than the actual debate. Nevertheless, I did sort of watch them all, so I had a general idea of what was going on, if I could vote (which, unfortunately I can't - damn you parents for conceiving me on New Years fucking Eve!) but I had an idea, anyway. Clegg is a tool, with some good ideas, some bad. Brown is a solid trier, bless his little cotton socks. Cameron's a cunt. On a side note, I believe that's actually the first time I've used the word cunt in my blog. Did you know that? No you didn't, because this "you" doesn't exist as no one actually reads this blog. Anyway, it seems by that summary that Labour is my vote, but no, it was actually Plaid Cymru with some Lib Dem sympathies, thanks to Rhys Taylor. But Plaid was the way forward in my book.
As long, winding hours wound on last night, I just grew more and more frustrated, the epitome of my frustration vented in the form of the announcment of the result in a North Walean area whose name escapes me, but something tells me it's similar to Clwyd. Or Bracknell. One of the two. Yes, my frustrations. The unfortunate man who caused these actions was the bloke who read out the result in said place. He was clearly not a welsh speaking man, but he was evidently reading straight from a phonetically spelt script of the welsh bit. I couldn't help but think "Yes, you've tried, but you made an absolute fool of yourself in the process, so why did you bother in the first place?" The cherry on top of the cake of frustration? The fact the phonetical translation if you will was actually wrong. It seemed it spelled the welsh word "Felly" with only one "l", forgetting to pronounce the "ll" sound. Ridiculous.
Thus, my frustrations seeped away to a sudden bout of absolute hilarity, which can only be described as "The man with his fist up behind Gordon Brown". What a legend this man was. He ws quite literally stood behind the podium during the vote count announcment and during Gordon Brown's 5 minute acceptance speech after he held his seat in Kirkcaldy or somewhere. But, the cherry on top of this cake was his trimphant air punch after his party - the Land is Power party, what a bizarre name - received the absolutely whopping total of 54 votes. In comparison to Brown's 29,000, 54 is not "trimphant air punch" worthy, I say so politely. Nevertheless, as Andrew's told me already, an election would never be complete without a complete nutter. He has my full respect.
So, in the end, the cringeworthy tosser that is David Cameron came out with the most seats, but he was 20 short of the magical 326, so fuck you. And yet, the battle rages on for the Tories to get the Lib Dems in their government to get their 57 seats and therefore shoot passed the 326 mark. Please, Cleggy Weggy, don't turn into a cunt too.
I can't be arsed for anymore, I'm knackered and my eyelids are dropping slowly over my eyes. But, 2 hours of True Blood is a must, so I'll battle through the pain.
Hurrah, I didn't mention University or Exams! Victory for can't be botheredness!