Late nights, libraries and long lost friends.

I have a bit of a love hate relationship with the library at the moment. I don't think I'm alone in believing the library is the most sexually charged place in any university campus. Forget about your pubs and clubs. If you want to find genuine sexual tension sit in a dead silent room with a load of young people thinking about anything other than work. Maybe I'm just a freak with a fetish but to me its like reliving Victorian society. Everyone walks around with books and exchanges pleasantries. At the beginning of university I promised myself I would have sex in the library before I left. It was a more optimistic time, before I realised that at my university a man should cherish every handshake with someone of the opposite sex.

Anyway I booked out a book last week. However the book I booked was booked out by someone else before me and remains booked out to this day. If that last bit was unclear, in short, coursework progress has been hampered severely. Not only this but I had to walk forty minutes to find this out, twice. On a more positive note Potty Mouth has forgiven me for my indiscretion and we are officially best buddies again. It turns out any wrong doing can be undone by differing degrees of public humiliation.

I have recently decided that I want to take up a cool habit or hobby. I have a radio show, but that's a bit of a 'Keen' past time. You tell people that you have a university radio show and they instantly think
"Oh your one of those. A 'chatty'"
Chatty isn't cool. The coolest people always know that to be cool, you should talk as little as possible because if you talk enough you will always say something that alienates or offends company. Truthfully I am a 'chatty', always talking myself into a canyon of embarrassment. Having accepted who I am, I must now make every effort to hide my true self. The best way to do this, apart from shutting up is to have a cool shared hobby. My friend P Dizzle is a snow boarder. Now that's a cool hobby to hide behind but balance is not my strongest point so I have to think of my own cool hobby.

I have been having a serious think about this and it has occurred to me that every past time worth having is either dangerous or illegal or both. Smoking,snowboarding, skate boarding, sky diving, rugby, taking class A drugs, being in the mafia, and starting a fight club all require more bravery and ruthlessness than I possess. Looks like I'd better shut up then.

My sleeping pattern is erratic at best at the moment. With two lectures a week, there is little to no point in getting up any time before three in the afternoon. Add to that the appeal of staying in bed when everything anywhere else is fucking freezing is massive.

Hobby of choice = naps
Moistometer 6/10 ice cold wind and rain.

Moistest man of the moment

Tony Soprano

thirty pieces of silver

Recently I betrayed one of my buddies. Potty Mouth and I had planned to host a radio show for the university last year but it never happened. So there I was with all these great ideas for a show and no show. Then I got the opportunity to go on the radio this year with Lucy while the mouth is on placement. Not thinking, I started radioing it up without Potty mouth, which would of been fine had she not found out, but she did and now I'm screwed. I tried to explain that I was just being thoughtless, however it seems that it is in fact worse that I didn't realize I was betraying her. Kind of like Judas absent mindedly telling the Romans where Jesus was without even asking for payment.

I should point out it wasn't simply something Potty had mentioned in passing one rainy afternoon. As soon as she said how pissed off she was and i denied that I was being a bastard i had flashbacks of Potty excitedly saying

"What shall we call our radio show?"
"When are we starting our radio show?"
"When we have our radio show I will be so happy."

I, as usual was in the wrong. So I apologised. Then came the demands.

1. Grow a moustache

2. Go out dressed as a calf

3. Punch Potty in the face (so she can report me to the police)

I refused to punch her but it looks like i will have to do the other two. I always wondered what I looked like with a bit of face fuzz anyway.

The whole episode taught me a valuable lesson. It's better to be betrayed, be cheated on, be lied to, or be stolen from. Being the bad guy is horrible. Guilt is horrible We shouldn't be locking up our criminals, rather giving them a pat on the back and telling them not to beat themselves up.

ok that didn't work.

Pete's big idea

In an effort to force my way up the google rankings I'm going to mention the word moist alot...... alot


MOIST CHIN moist chin MoisT cHin MOIST CHIN MOIst ChIN
moist chin moist chin
Moist chin Moist chin
Moist chin
Moist chin Moist chin Moist chin
Moist chin
Moist chin Moist chin Moist chin
Moist chin
Moist chin Moist chin Moist chin
Moist chin
Moist chin

Hopefully now i will be the first moist chin google thinks of, but im not sure, there are alot of fucked up people out there

This weeks villians

driving test, #1

Today was bad. It all started very positively, but then everything went from great to shit.

Just as a quick tit bit of information to make me feel good about myself. Remember the girl with the fat eyes from a few weeks ago? I actually acquired some balls and we had a bit of a pash. sweet huh? Who's the stalker now ay!? In fact without getting carried away, ladies seem easily wooed these days.

PERSONAL WOOZILLA FOR THE RECENT PAST : 8.5/10

Anyway lets not get carried away. Back to the bad. I FAILED my driving test

MOISTOMETER.......... 0/10 so fucking dry you wouldn't believe.

I started fucking brilliantly. The examiner, for a start, was actually Father Christmas, (I was expecting him to look like Hitler or Stalin.) I managed to steer safely away from the test center and so with Santa in toe, I set off round the town. At first I was a tad nervous but that soon passed as I completed what was without doubt, the greatest "reverse round a corner" of all time. The test continued, 20 minutes without a fuck up.

"Am I Jenson Button?" I thought to myself.
"No don't get carried away, your just a demi god."

It was around the time I was having this internal dialogue that Santa asked me to pull over so he could explain how brilliantly I was doing and I mounted the curb like it was the girl from Gray's Anatomy.

From then on everything went down hill..... badly.

I was angry with the curb, I was fucking angry with santa too, but mostly, I was pissed off with the car. How could it let me; a driving demi god, down like this? I mean it must be terribly manufactured to steer itself into curb so carelessly. ..... fucking Henry Ford

After that I cut a demoralized figure on the roads. I barley minded when the car excelorated itself and cut up the blue mini and I definatley didn't give a shit when the stupid car, mounted the curb a second and third time in the bay park outside the test center.

I am waiting for cancelations.

I WENT TO LEEDS that was sweet
9.7/10 moistness!

Moistest man of the moment

Dr DAMP who turned 21

I am currently watching the Soprano's through for the second time. God it's brilliant.
The plan now is to get fat, get racist, get a wife, kids, a mistress and start wacking people.

My house has already started a family up and were picking on the runt of the litter, Prince to get coffee, drive us around and dispose of the bodies.

some pretty sweet people

A FIST FULL OF MOIST

Hello again, It’s me, your friend, Moist. Another couple of days have passed without a blog and I am beginning to feel I have let my hundreds of followers down. Today I made a fool of myself... again. The more observant of you may have noticed a theme in my numerous blogs. The trend of constant embarrassment is something I have had to live with on a day to day basis my whole life. Sometimes I don’t deserve it. Sometimes, however, I do. Today I do. It’s a simplecase of not keeping my mouth shut. We had a poster session in my class for our dissertations and I was hung over (another theme). Naturally I wasn’t taking things too seriously, and I jokingly suggested to my tutor we should have a poster competition. I also suggested that I should be the winner. Then my tutor declared to 40 of my peers, “Moist had a great idea everyone. Let’s have a poster competition.” This brown nosing didn’t go down well with at least half the class and I’m pretty unpopular right now. It then got worse, seeing my discomfort my friends all voted for me and I won my own competition and the grand prize of a text book. What a douche. Also an attractive woman told me I smelt. In fact that was the worst bit.

On the plus side, I am currently demolishing season two of True Blood with Pete which leads me to the awards segment of my blog.

MOISTEST MAN OF THE MOMENT: Bill Compton, the vampire!!

LOVE OF MY LIFE for the week Deborah Ann Woll, she is 8 sorts of delicious. There are ten sorts of delicious devised by myself and potty mouth. I will explain at a later date.

HALLOWEEN

Well it’s been a while. A lot has happened, some good; some bad. One thing in particular was so scaring that I am unwilling to talk about it. What I will say is that I did not tune into match of the day. Halloween is traditionally a pagan festival celebrating being ungodly and symbolizing the start of winter. Well that’s what I took from my primary school RE lessons. For students it’s prime time to get drunk and to dress up like a twat. No change there then. This Halloween was no different except much better than any ever before. Not only did I go to a house party I also went to two night clubs. That’s right two. It’s extravagant yes but I don’t really believe in recycling and energy saving anyway so I suppose it was always something that might happen to me some day. One day I will probably buy a car like a hummer that does four miles to the gallon. I’m a Mugabe.

(Before I continue I apologise for the quality of my writing. I’m tired so I can’t really form coherent sentences or spell.)

I originally wanted to go to the party as a jelly baby. Then I decided that because I’m having such a disastrous sex life at the moment any slim chance of getting laid would be damaged by painting myself purple and wearing a nappy. So I settled on being a zombie like everyone else. At first this decision looked like being my greatest ever. I met two hot female zombies at the party and we chatted in great depth about how we became zombies. One claimed to of been hit by a train and become undead that way. Unfortunately in my drunken state I felt the need to explain that she couldn’t have been hit by a train; her injuries weren’t nearly severe enough. (She would have been splatted.) This was intended as a joke but it made me sound like some freaky gore expert who pickles dead things. Needless to say the drought continues. One big plus is that god is now on my side, as I befriended a zombie Jesus. Let’s hope Christ is a good wing man.

Drunkometer 6/10

Woozilla 4/10

Overall woozilla 8/10 PETE GOT LUCKY

Moistometer 5/10 it pissed it down at night!

NIGHT OUT RATING 9/10

Today I watched films and drank milkshakes with my good friends Lucy Pete and Potty Mouth. To be continued....