Friends don't let friends knit drunk (ADULT CONTENT)

It is not often nowadays that I blog about personal stuff because I kind of did it to death a year or two ago but sometimes something happend that fucks me right off. So maybe while friends don't let friends knit drunk one should always bear in mind a few other little mantras. Let us consider some.

• Don't blog angry
• Regularly test your smoke alarm
• Always make sure you have contents insurance because you don't know what the stupid fucker you live with is going to do next
• Men don't change unless they are under 5 years old
• That which does not kill us may well make us stronger but is also going to piss me right off

The stupid twat came home paralytic last night. What kind of person reaches the age of 31 and still totally fails to recognise their own limits? He bursts in and immediately falls against the bedroom wall waking me and making the wardrobe shake. I fall back to sleep. I am guessing this is about 1.30am. I can't be sure but I think it is a good estimate. Because it was 1.50am when the smoke alarm went off. How long would you say it takes a fuckwit to stagger into the kitchen, find a pack of pikey super noodles, spill them open and into a saucepan, turn the hob on full blast, pass out on the sofa and for them to boil dry and burn to the point where they fill the flat with smoke and set the fire alarm off. I'm estimating 20 minutes.

I got up when the smoke alarm went off, as you do, and turned it off, turned off the hob, poured cold water into the smoking noodles and walked into the living room where the computer genius was. It took 20 seconds of rough shaking to rouse him. I actually kind of enjoyed that bit. You might think of that as a highlight. In hindsight I should have made more of that. I opened the window and went back into the kitchen to turn on the extractor fan and by the time I got back to the living room he'd got up, closed the window, and passed out again on the sofa. What a fucking retard.

This morning I got up and on my way to the bathroom heard my name being shouted from the spare room. "What's the matter" he says. "It wasn't so bad" he says. Wasn't so bad. I've had the windows open most of the morning and the place still stinks of burnt noodles. He had passed out and hadn't even stirred when the smoke alarm had gone off. We don't have any contents insurance because he said he'd sort it out 3 years ago and then did fuck all. He won't even sign his fucking 'death in service' insurance over to me even though we're fucking married. If he had managed to set fire to the kitchen, himself, the flat and most importantly my uninsured stash and even me in the bedroom I'd have been left with nothing except some memories of how fucking typical the whole thing was. It's also left me feeling slightly narked. Can you tell?

Now when he reads this he's going to be pissed off and use that to try and gain the upper hand in the grumpy stakes. But do you know what? I don't fucking care. I am so pissed off with him. I just booked a 5 star cruise down the nile for october. I should be happy. I should be floaty light. I should possibly stop using the word' should' so much since i regularly lecture others on how that kind of phrasing leads to depression and despair. Perhaps actually I 'should' just stop blogging and go and do something fun.

Catch Up Part 2

Right, where was I? Ah yes, Tutankhamun.

I'm rather strongly opposed to fiddling about with graves and putting the bodies on show. I intensely dislike that part of the British Museum. I'm not religious myself but these people did believe very strongly that their bodies had to be prepared and buried in certain ways and that if that happened they would live on in the afterlife. I might not agree with them but nor am I ready to say they were definitely wrong. However, as there is no chance of them putting the stuff back (and in fact they have left the body in there most of the time give or take the odd MRI) I decided to pay the exorbitant entry fee and go down to the O2 centre which is only three tube stops away. I had to take a photo of the dock on the way as it looked so springlike and lovely.

The exhibition itself and the O2 centre were deeply dissappointing. I never went to the Millennium Centre when it was 2000 and although the scale is impressive I hated how commercial it was. You are forced to walk past every shop and eatery in there to get to the exhibition entrance. I guess I shouldn't have been suprised but still - it doesn't exactly get you in the mood. I foolishly paid for an audio guide but it was a waste - barely more than the cards on the items said and only about a tenth of the items on display had audio anyway. The exhibits were pretty amazing but so uninspiringly curated. It was like a temporary warehouse with no atmosphere. I kept reminding myself the things were thousands of years old but it was hard work to get excited about any of it. A channel 5 documentary is generally more evocative and engaging than that exhibition. The commercial thoughtlessness of it was summed up by the gift shop. Look at these.

Tissue boxes. And they were probably about £20 each. Such a load of tat.

Anyway, happy thoughts. One happy thing is the arrival of two new books chez byrne. I have developed an apparent thing for Zoe Mellor since seeing TutleyMutley's 'Animal Knits' at SkipNorth. I've been keeping an eye on ebay and this one came up. It's got some really lovely stuff in it and a beautiful kaleidoscope type baby blanket.

There's also another funny 80s book. Some of the designs are quite amazing.

I've made progress with my step-dad's jumper. This is the first sleeve. The pattern is doing my head in a bit but it's going ok. Which reminds me - I hear MagKnits has ceased to be. Glad I printed the pattern while I had the chance.

I've been having more luck with this scarf. I love it!

I think the kind of fabric it has made is just beautiful. Then lastly there is a sock, of course. Always a sock. But it is a good sock.

These are crosswalkers and good fun to do but they are progressing quite amazingly slowly. The yarn is another SkipNorth acquisition. I've got it in orange and pale green too. I like the way it looks a bit like crazy fruit- which I guess would mean the black bits in this pair are tarantula's eggs.

Now finally one of the most exciting things to happen to me recently is that I finally got to see Wrestlemania 24. Awesome. I watched it all yesterday afternoon. There were a couple of classic moments. Rick Flair had his retirement match with HBK. Look at him.

Last of the old showmen really. He was also inducted into the hall of fame. The match was really rather good which surprised me since I think Rick Flair is long ast his prime but Sean Michaels did him proud.

Then there was the biggie - that I'd been looking forward to.

Triple HHH - mmmmm. John Cena - mmmmmm. Randy Orton - ....maybe. All three sweaty men together thumping each other....mmmmm. It was all a bit gay though. Look at these two grappling in their tiny black pants on the announcers table.

Again there were some classic moments. What about when Cena had Orton in a submission hold and then HHH got Cena in the same hold? I know - wow.

I was dissappointed the match wasn't longer as there were some really good moves going on and the outcome was rather unsatisfactory - I never in a million years would have thought 'he' would win (don't want to spoil it for you!). The other big match was the weirdest - the world boxing champ versus the world's largest athlete. Check out the size difference.

Big Show is about 300 pounds heavier than the boxer whose name I forget. It was actually quite an entertaining match and not just some showpiece nonsense.

Wrestlemania 25 is in Texas next year. I would give my teeth to go. Which brings to mind a bit of a conundrum. I have saved up enough money for a pretty nice holiday. I had been set on japan but I'm wavering. Maybe Egypt. Or maybe...who knows. I do know I need to get on with it. Otherwise I'll never get anywhere!