#18 Carlton Palmer
Greetings from the North, here be this week's shenanigans...
During the Summer holidays, it was ludicrously easy to lose track of the days. We had no need for Wednesdays when everyday involved getting up at around 12 noon, combining breakfast and lunch into a meal that lasts until 2pm (brunch, anyone?) , then finally venturing outside to catch the late-afternoon sun and to socialise (repeat to fade). But bizarrely, it's also dangerously easy to lose track of time here at university...
For example, I can't remember for the life of me what I've been doing for the majority of last week. Apologies to anyone reading this who distinctly remembers being with me at some event of great magnitude that I've missed out, but I think my brain is finally creaking under the strain of understanding a) several strong and out-of-place regional dialects in such a concentrated area; and b) why some people find it necessary to play police sirens in an attempt to coax people into donating money for the earthquake appeal.
Friday night, I do remember. It involved paying £3, getting my hand stamped, and then walking into a space roughly the size of a double garage: no, I wasn't being smuggled into Scotland, but rather enjoying the Transmission indie disco night. Slightly dodgy speaker set-up aside, and rather criminal lack of CDage on the DJ's part, the music wasn't too bad!
As you may know, I am probably one of the greatest dancers this country has ever seen. So for my first proper club night in Freshers' Week, I put aside my nervousness and unleashed whole "canned heat in my heels" experience, safe in the knowledge that I'd never see the people standing nearby again. Of course, one of them turned out to be in both of my English modules, and I've ended up sitting next to her in every lecture to date. Cringe. Hopefully, the memory will fade over time...
What with being in the middle of World Cup qualification, Tuesday night week was an excellent occasion. Down in Bar|One, a Football Forum with no less than Ray Stubbs, Garth Crooks and Carlton Palmer were on stage to answer anyone's questions and strike up debate...
Needless to say, it was a thoroughly entertaining night. The mood was set when someone asked why Crooks - walking on with a white wine - wasn't drinking the beer, he replied "Because I'm a tart!". Classic. Indeed, all three gents were well up for a laugh, and not shy at pointing fun at either themselves or (more often) Everton! Although Stubbs and Crooks had to maintain some sense of balance - what with being BBC employees and all - Palmer was free to say what he liked, and practically all of his responses could not be printed in this, a family blog: "Last year, Everton over-performed. This year, they're b*****ks".
There was also the opportunity to win the chance to read out the classified football results on Score on Saturday. Well, as some of you may know, I've always fancied having a go. All you had to do was commentate on the England goals they were showing on the screen. Following a pretty good attempt, I knew my effort would have to be something a bit different to get noticed. Hence, the Soccer-AM-style American commentary style came out. Without any trace of bitterness - ahem - the first bloke won, probably because everyone else was rubbish (one attempt even copied me, but replacing American with Mexican) and there was no audience vote. But to sweeten the blow, I did get a free beer out of it and shook hands with Crooks and Stubbsy. Which was worth the effort alone, methinks.
I've forgotten to tell you in previous entries that one of my favourite games - guess which emergency services vehicle it is just by listening to the siren - has had to be put down. The trouble is, the road between the union and the halls contains not one, not two, but three hospitals. Hence, the game is so predictable it's not worth doing any more.
I didn't realise this until I moved up here, but there's a different issue of 'The Big Issue' magazine for the North. In an inspired move, it's called 'The Big Issue In The North'. What I find guiltily hilarious about the advert on the back page of last week's edition - remember this is the page that the (homeless) seller will see when he's trying to flog the thing to you - is that it was for the new Franz Ferdinand album. It's called "You Could Have It So Much Better". Comedy genius.
Number of Bernard-sightings this week: 5
Number of times Bernard has gone "Ooh look! It's Bozz!": 0
Quote of the week:
"When I saw you I just needed some air. And a Dime bar."
