Jim should've fixed it, because Santa definitely failed

Some of you may be wondering where I've been for the past 11 days. Some of you may not have been wondering this. For those who are interested, I've had so much Uni work to do that Blogging had to move down my list of priorities, behind the work itself, Football Manager and Nickelback's new album.

I'm finally feeling kind of Christmassy too. Due to my humongous work load, I haven't really been in the mood for it to be honest, but now that it's all over and done with I'm well up for it. However, I'm beginning to think that Santa isn't doing his job properly because I've had a Stretch Armstrong on my Christmas list for the past 10 years or so, and I still haven't got one. I mean, how good did he look on the adverts?! I was envious beyond belief of those "perfect" American kids who seemed to be having hours of fun with Mr. Armstrong, fighting crime and tying him up in knots. He seemed to stretch for miles too. Thing is though, I probably would've been let down by it if I had of received it as a gift, because let's face it, nothing is as good in real-life as it is in adverts. Here's proof...



Just look how happy they look, and how amazingly fun it looks to play with Stretch! I mean, who wouldn't want one of those really! As I said though, the likelihood is that after a long stretching session on Christmas Day, Mr. Armstrong would just be a long floppy mess the next day. This is why I believe it is better to have dreamt about all the good times I could've had with him, rather than had a couple of good days stretching. So yeah, I don't want a Stretch Armstrong anymore. I'm clearly over it.

Before I go, I was told a few weeks ago that Space Raiders, every British child's favourite crisps, known for their distinctive flavour, wacky shapes and most of all, the fact that they're only 10p, have gone up in price. They're now 15p, which for those without an A in GCSE Maths, is a whole 5p more than before! I'll leave you all now, for that ridiculous fact to sink in, and before you get too angry.

We shall fight on the beaches... and in Lincolnshire, near a little village called Kettlethorpe

I've come to the the decision that I don't really want to be in the Army or the Navy, or the RAF, or any other war-based profession for that matter. This conclusion came to me whilst I was knelt in the mud behind a wooden board, dressed in camouflage overalls and protective mask and carrying a gun loaded with 100 paintballs. I was knelt there, along with 20-or-so other would-be soldiers, waiting for the other team to come and attempt a siege on "the Island" on which we were guarding. It reminded me of something off Lord of the Rings; we could see them all running at us through the trees like a bunch of slightly more unattractive Orcs.

It's not that Paintballing wasn't fun, because it was. It's just, I couldn't help but be a little apprehensive and hesitant when it came down to confronting the opposition. It's not that I was scared of getting hit, it's just war isn't really my "scene" to be honest. I wouldn't really fancy it if we were called up to do National Service tomorrow (Mr Brown, if you're reading this blog, please cross me off your list). I've got too much on my plate as it is to think about killing people and that. Anyway, it was a relatively successful day. No major injuries to speak of, although I ache a little bit now. Through the course of the day, I got hit "properly" three times, once by Matt, who was on my side. It was Rob's fault that happened though really. He shouted, "there's one over here Matt", pointing right where we were standing in the not-so-safe "Safe Zone". I didn't cry that much though.

I should also mention that on Saturday night I had possibly one of the worst nights sleep ever. Well, it was uncomfortable, but I was sharing a single bed with Matt which was kind of cosy really. Rob and Sam drew the short straws, and had to sleep next to each other on the floor, which was apparently also uncomfortable. We ended up going through Sam's contact list on his Phone and ringing random people (including a couple of Canadians, who didn't answer even though it would have been a relatively "normal" time for phone calls in their neck of the woods). If we rang you in the early hours of Sunday morning, and you're reading this, then I'm sorry for any inconvenience we caused to you.

All in all, it was a good weekend. I've never appreciated a single bed all to myself before though. Anyway, I must leave it there. I've got loads of work to do, and shouldn't be spending my time blogging...

See you all tomorrow then!