Thursday, June 30, 2011

30 Day Alcohol-Free Challenge

I tried to give up alcohol for thirty days. 


The week leading up to my Vienna trip was a booze-fuelled funfest. In Vienna, I consumed Schneider Weisse like it was candyfloss. Post-holiday, high on life, I partied like it was 1989. After about three weeks of constant glugging, my skin had died and I was seeing the world as if through opaque glass.

What did I hope to achieve with the project?
Feel better, lose weight, save money. Complete an arbitrary challenge. See what happened.

Day One:
Easy. Willpower 100%. Victory in challenge certain.

Day Two:
An early test. Had booze-loving German girl round to watch The Apprentice. Tradition is to get wasted while watching the candidates's comic ineptitude. German girl drank prosecco and beer. I had camomile tea.

Day Three:
Still easy. German girl left loads of booze in my fridge, though. Stupid Germans.

Day Four:
Major crisis! After football I met up with guys from work. Was already pretty thirsty, but with willpower still maxed out I was rock-steady and resolute. Suddenly, one of my friends plonked a cold, refreshing Schneider Weisse down in front of me.

Look at that condensation! How sexy is that? Is this how the snake tempted Jesus in the desert? I touched the glass. It felt nice. I pushed it away. People kept pushing it back. I didn't drink it.

Day Eight:
All going swimmingly. I'm amazing at completing challenges. I went for a curry with Cecile. She hesitated about ordering a beer while I had water. "No, that's fine," I said. "It won't affect me at all." The cold beer sat there on the table, mocking me, the whole time. Stupid French women!

Day Eleven:
Friday night again. My order of 'diet coke' led to moderate ribbing from football guys after the match. They don't realise that weight is literally evaporating from my body and therefore nothing can deter me. Also, the jokes came from the losing team, whose opinions don't matter.

Day Sixteen:
Wednesday. Huh. I got tickets to see a preview of Larry Crowne, a romantic comedy with Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts. The trailer looked terrible. I invited Anna, to punish her for being German, and asked her to bring mini bottles of wine and something for me to eat. Why did I do that? Because it's what I always do when I go to the cinema - drink little bottles of wine. I forgot about the stupid challenge, okay? I also forgot that you get free drinks at the previews. I turned up and Anna plonked a free glass of prosecco into my hand, and I took a swig. Shocked by the fizzy loveliness, I realised what I had done. Bah! What to do? Down the prosecco and drink the wine, obviously. It made the movie better.

So, challenge FAILED. Not because of willpower, but bad planning and carelessness.

Maybe I'll try the challenge again some other time. Or maybe I'll just cut down on my drinking. A bit.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Asterix the Legionary: Latin Jokes Explained

A bigger, better version of this article now appears on my new Asterix site - click the white link just above this article. The one that says 'Everything Asterix'.

The new site is extremely beautiful, by the way. It's probably going to win an award and be preserved by UNESCO.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Asterix and the Normans: Latin Jokes Explained

A bigger, better version of this article now appears on my new Asterix site - click the white link just above this article. The one that says 'Everything Asterix'.

The new site is extremely beautiful, by the way.


Saturday, June 11, 2011

A Trillion and One Ways to Score Points with Chicks (part four)

22. Say sowwy, not sorry. Women will often demand an apology for something you did. The trick is, she doesn't actually want you to apologise. It's a surreal female test to see if you're comfortable in your own skin. It's okay to apologise for something you really did wrong, such as filling her bath with ice and using it to store organs for a week while she was on holiday. But if she's pissed that you were eyeing a hot waitress, that's really her issue, not yours.

You can say sorry if you do it extremely sarcastically. 'I'm sooooo sooooo sowwwwwwy!' Think Father Jack:

23. Give her a nickname. Examples: "Champ." "Slaphead." "Big Mac." "Stinky." "Ice Queen."

24. Women are needy. Compliment them - within reason. If you're in a good mood, spoon them some sugar.

"Wow, I realised that I really enjoy talking to you. It's like talking to my favourite TV character... Murdoch from The A-Team."

"I'm impressed by how quickly you learned to use the CAD software."
 "Wow! That was about the eighth best blowjob I ever had."
25. Do the math. A quick internet image search for the words 'hot babe' shows that there are a practically infinite number of hot babes out there. A search for 'eligible bachelor' brings up a handful of actors with good hair (many of whom are married or secretly gay), some guys with mullets, and tons of pics of Prince Harry.

How many fun, interesting guys do you know? How many are comfortable around women? How many are not gay? How many of those are single? The number in your head right now is zero, or close to it. See? If you're a cool single guy, there's almost no competition. There are about three hundred totally hot single chicks to every fun, interesting single guy. That's hard math.

Conclusion: Scoring points with chicks is fun, but don't get carried away. Remember that you are choosing from a very large sea of hot girls, and she is choosing from a puddle of quality guys. As soon as she realises that you are fun and interesting and that while you like and respect her you could care less if it works out or not, she'll be chasing you.

Monday, June 06, 2011

The Grandes Armes de Paris

My recent blog posts have been getting lots of media buzz, and my design skills have come to the attention of the world's cultural elite. So it wasn't much of a surprise when I got an invitation to meet the French ambassador to Zurich, Henri Léonard Jean Baptiste-Baptiste Mozambique in his plush lakeside office.

"Call me Henri Léonard Jean," he said, warmly. "I loved your book couvers and iPad box, and hot Heidis. You really got talént. And you've got a French name. So you're really perfect."

"What's this all about?" I said. "Perfect for what?"
"Une petit commission, Mister Androo. As you know, the Grandes Armes de Paris is very old."
"Grande... um... the big... furniture...?"
"The ah, how you say, Mantle of Arms. Crest, no?"
"Oh, the Coat of Arms."
"D'accord. So this is what the current one looks like:"

"It's nice," I said. "And I know that 'Fluctuat nec mergitur' means 'She is tossed by the waves but does not sink' because Professor Ibrox told me. It's kind of a nice way of saying that whatever goes down - plague, war, Sarkozy, there will always be a Paris."
"It is nice," he confirmed. "But it's exactly nine hundred years old and we want to update it. The crest, not the logo."
"And you think I'm the best man for the job?"
"Mister Androo, we see from your extraordinary work on the Asterix jokes that you totally understand the French mentality. We believe in you."

Was his trust misplaced? Judge for yourself. 
Can you find the eight changes I made?

New Coat of Arms for Paris, 2011
Nouveau Grandes Armes de Paris


Thursday, June 02, 2011