You're crazy in the coconut!

I've had a really mad day so far. It all started, dear reader, last night.

Sunday nights around my house are roast dinner nights, without fail. About 6pm I wandered downstairs to ask father if he wanted to have a sneaky glass of sherry before dinner (shut your mouth, Merciless), something of a ritual for us on a Sunday night. I walked into the computer room...not there. Lounge...not there. Dining room...not there. Turns out father wasn't feeling very well, so he was asleep in bed, and mum was making pasta for dinner instead. Fair enough.

I thought nothing more of it, and after spending an interesting and productive night on the internet (no, not pornography, you sod) I collapsed into bed at 3am, looking forward to a long and marvellous sleep. Which promptly didn't materialise, as I was woken up at 7:30am. Dad still wasn't feeling brilliant, and now Mum was feeling sick, meaning it was up to little old me to take The Ginger Prince to school. I did that, came home, felt a bit tired (not long to go in this story, don't worry) so decided to go back to bed for a few more hours kip. Next thing I knew, I was being woken up by The Ginger One, at 3:30pm. I'm not joking, either. I have no idea how he got home, but I like the thought of him being like an animal, and having a homing instinct and getting home himself. More likely father picked him up, but there you go.

Anyway, I've just watched Countdown, and typed this. It's 16:13, and I feel like the day is just starting. There's absolutely no way I'm getting to sleep tonight. 

If you're still reading this, a) congratulations and b) you're mad. Have a video for your troubles - my favourite video at the moment:

You don't know what I have to put up with...

Those of you lucky enough to know me away from the mad internet world of Ewarwoowar will perhaps know that a) I have a little brother, b) he is ginger and c) no matter how much love and affection I try to give him, he is a tyrant and wrecks havoc wherever he roams. Not bad for a 5 year old.

Today's mischief can be found in this picture below. Particularly infuriating in that I left that piece of paper, and the multi-coloured pen, for about 1 minute only, I swear. I literally only went to get a glass of water, came back, and the deed had been done. The little shit.

The eagle-eyed amongst you will notice that is the start of my notes for a Literature reading quiz, and that is the section for the Tennyson bollocks "The Lady of Shalott". Bad enough doing it at A-Level. The even more eagle-eyed amongst you will notice the colloquial language I use for notes like this. In this particular section, "Sir Lancelot pitches up" is my favourite bit, a phrase nicked from radio presenter Ian Collins.

Anyway, thought that would amuse you bastards. I'm off to cuddle my brother, before inflicting upon him a Ric Flair-esque Figure 4 Leglock. Woooooooooooooooo!

Oh, Cock!

I was trying to think what James May would say in this situation, and "Oh, Cock!" is the best thing I could come up with.

So, last night I had everything planned out, as I like to try and do with my life. I would watch 'Question Time', followed swiftly by 'This Week in Politics'. I would then check the stat-porn for this waste of space/blog (hello to new readers in Atherton, Croydon and Sheffield, btw) then I could have a monumental sleep. Hell, I didn't need to be up early, my lecture wasn't until 2pm. Lecture 2-4, than I could avoid the train from hell by doing a bit of Mothering Sunday shopping in Wolvo, before catching the Aber. train at about 4:45 back home. Marvellous.
So, at about 1am, after also checking up on the NZ/India cricket, I made the short journey from my chair into bed.

I love sleeping, I'm not going to lie. Being a university bum also means I can get more of it, which is marvellous. So there I was, warm, comfortable, dreaming of Ana Ivanovic. Which is why getting rudely awoken at 7am wasn't my preference, to be honest. Anyway, to cut a long story short, (reading this back, I'm as bored as you are, seriously) my little brother, who I shall call "The Ginger Prince" had apparently been up all night being sick. It turns out that he won't be going into school, my father has "important meetings" (I always love that cop-out) until 3pm, and my mother is working from 9-4:30.

So, guess who's perfectly laid plans have now gone to ruin, and will have to sit with a sickly child and be brainwashed by CBeebies all day?

If you haven't read all that, here's a quick summary : I'm tired, and pissed off.