I'm Just A Guy Trying To Knit...

So yeah, I'm one of those weird people under the age of 50, that genuinely enjoys knitting. I don't quite understand why myself, but I'd probably put it down to having way too much spare time...

It was brought to my attention this morning, however, that I actually hold my breath for a really really really long time while I'm knitting, sometimes going for minutes without making any more than the odd gasp for oxygen.

My mother has told me that I either give up knitting, or go see a doctor. Then again, my dad keeps saying that, but that's just because I started knitting...

Unnappreciated Genius

At the moment there are builders making us a new kitchen, as ours is about 20 years old now, it could do with a make-over.

So as the builders are busying about, cutting up this, drilling out that, and other manly-man thing, I have the rest of the day off school. My dad shouted me to go and make them some tea and coffee, so off I went.

I came back later with a pot of tea, some coffee, and a plate of biscuits. Arranged in the shape of a Union Jack, from pink cakes, jammie dodgers, and friuty biscuits. This artistic display of edible brilliance was not greeted with a warm welcome though and they quickly rearranged them into a more messy affair, destroying the perfectly placed sponge and dodger wonder.

Needless to say I won't be wasting my talents on them any longer. I'll stick to giving the interior designers food. They admire my skills.

Just Order Some God Damn Tea.

Long time, no blog, eh? Well I'm back for round two! It's now the second year of an Average Teengaer, and there's plenty to talk about.


This month, for example, I've started a new job. I'm now a waiter in a little 1940's themed tea room, a job I enjoy enormously. Some of the people we get in the shop are just pure gold.

Yesterday we had an old Ldy and her even-more aged husband, who obviously both had difficulty hearing, as their conversations were rather loud and they could still hardly understand what each other were saying.

At one point they were talking, or rather shouting, this:

Wife: "Dave"
Husband: "Gay!"
Wife: "Dave?!"
Husband: "Gay!!"
Wife: "Dave?!?!"
Husband" NO! GAY!!"
Wife: "Oh, for a minute there I thought you were saying Dave"
Husband: "Dave?"
Wife: "Gay?!"
Husband: "Dave?!?"

Thank god I gave them scones quickly. Anything to stop them shouting across the shop...

Laptops Are Addicted To Failing

I used to work on a PC, like all of the cool kids, but after years of hard interweb surfing, it finally gave up and died. It was at this point in my life I made the same bad decision as many. I switched to a Laptop.

Ok, Laptops are very portable, and give you a lot of power for their size, I can see their appeal even now.

You must realise though, that all computers age, but Laptops age like chain-smoking, binge-drinking heroin addicts. It's not long before you try to pull up internet explorer and it starts vomiting out error messages while it staggers around the room telling you you're adopted.

I think it's safe to say, I'm putting my laptop on my hate list.

Invasion Of The Cat Kind

Last night I woke up to the sound of Cat... I thought it was someone's ringtone or alarm clock or something, until I remembered that my brother, from whose room the sound was coming from, had such a crappy phone, it was neither capable nor cool enough to have a cat ring tone...

So I jumped up realising there was a cat in the house. Me being a little allergic, I was all ready with a broom to usher the perpetrator out of my home, but I find my brother feeding the feline fiend.

Noticing it's lack of collar, my instant assumption is that he's brought in a stray from the streets and is now harbouring it in his bedroom. My assumptions were half correct... He is keeping him in the house, however it's not harbouring if my parents have already consented to it.

I am not happy.

This. Is. War.