Sunday 7 November 2010

If you missed the clocks going back, its now five past the mackems.

   Evening blog fans. Hope you like the new design, that's some good quality Spanish Civil War propaganda, that is.
   So my first week back in the north east has been a relative success, I've bumped into a fair few folks I knew years back and made a few new friends too. On top of that, the Toon stuffed Albania-on-Wear five-one and today held the Arse one-nil putting us fifth. Fifth! I haven't felt this optimistic since 2002.
   Anyway, in my wide search for a topic for this week I've found pretty much nothing, yet again. So I'll just mumble.
   Let's see... School! Okay, so I've got two coursework pieces to do in English; one creative writing piece which could be literally anything, anything at all, I mean, even this! And there's an analytic piece on either how different news publications represent a story or how the story evolves in a particular news publication. This could be anything from a huge range of topics but trying to find something covered in the Morning Star in any depth also covered in a right-wing print is problematic.
   As regards the creative writing, maybe a return to the Welsh-inspired Geordie dialect fiction? Or a journalistic piece on the zionist call for an Israeli pledge of allegiance to a "Jewish state?" Either way, I'm confident I can manage.
   I've sort of dumped myself in a group with two other lads so my media course work doesn't have to be a print piece as they're doing a film opening scene for theirs and seem pretty open to my ideas. My sociology work is up-to-scratch so far too.
   Of course I'm missing Aylesbury, that place is a second home to me, but Washy's being kind so far and I'm getting back into the swing of it.
   I've noticed in the last week that my accent, as incoherent as it is to you lot down south, is actually piss-weak, the flat vowel sounds have gone as quickly as they appeared but the odd consonant that shouldn't be there in Geordie still turns up and calls me a soft, shandy-drinking southern jessie.
   Anyway, life goes on and unless I get a larger social circle it'll be more repeats of Darling Buds of May and jelly with Nanny Sharp on Sundays so I'll be back on the charm offensive the morra morn'.
   See ye's later.
- Nous.

3 comments:

  1. Hey Don't knock the Shqipitares, I'm sure they didn't pick Sunderland for its atmosphere. I met a bloke in the mountains who spoke English with a Mackam accent. He had grown up in his village and saw the downfall of Hoxha, then suffered the civil war/gang war that had followed, had defended his house with his dad at age 14 with an AK47, and drove a mercedes around the village whilst being shot at. He left and jumped on the back of a lorry through the channel tunnel because there was no money left to be made, and worked for 7 years in Sunderland, mainly in one of those Slug and Lettuce bars. He didn't exactly sing the praises of the locals. He told me of a time he had had to barricade the shop front because of a fight that was filling the square... Obviously I can't speak for all Albanian immigrants, but they had a tough time. After Hoxha, mafia dominated the government, and basically did a Ponzi (pyramid) scheme with everyone's taxes and savings. Hence the pyramid crumbled, the whole country went into gang war. Majority of Albanians I met though were friendly and unassuming.

    Miss you, you bastard.

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  2. Sorry babes, its more a dig at the fact The Land That Soap Forgot strikes an uncanny resemblence to a poverty striken area of an eastern European state.

    Miss you too, you whore.

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  3. Also, see how the poster looks like the Angel of the North?

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