Taken 4: Amster-Damn That Was Scary

This is an old one but looking back I can't see why I've never told it. Possibly because of the statute of limitations but I can't think why that would be an issue.

In October 2013 I took a trip to Amsterdam. It was my first holiday sans family so I wanted to go somewhere that I'd never been before and this seemed as good an option as any.

Sadly I booked my tickets two days beforehand so the rooms were very hard to get at the hostel I wanted to go to so I had a tricky situation where I had to switch rooms halfway through. Either way it was the Flying Pig and by far one of the coolest places I have ever stayed.

I left in the early hours of the morning on the Eurostar to Brussels and had to catch my connecting train to Amsterdam Central Station. Everything went well and I boarded the train with time to spare. Sadly I was sat next to the only woman with a baby and the baby must REALLY not have been looking forward to the holiday as it was screaming the entire time.

Or so I assume because I spent most of the journey in the food cart doing battle with an absurdly hot croque monsieur in a constant lunge position due to the fact that the train was going at an absurd speed. Anyway I caught my connection after a brief and terrifying encounter with the the Brussels' train timetable.

I was greeted with what only can be described as a shitload of windmills. Like seriously. Windmills fucking everywhere. Like the scene with the grandpa from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang on steroids.

Either way after an uneventful train ride I reached the station and started the 20 minute walk to the hostel. For those twenty minutes I was Into The Wild. An oversized backpack on and the wind in my hair and trams up my arse. It was freeing in a way but the terrifying idea of having to make friends on this solo trip was freaking me out.

I got to my hostel and checked in. This kind woman behind the reception had written down my checkout day for me in a very confusing manner. But I went to my room nonetheless to be greeted by eight fast asleep Canadians and one not so asleep Canadian.

I introduced myself like the social butterfly I am and we promptly decided to go check out what Amsterdam had to offer. Which predominantly consisted of going to the Blues Brothers coffee shop across the road to enjoy the benefits of a more relaxed drug culture.

Inside we went upstairs and bought the weakest strain they had on offer as I didn't want to spend my time lying on the ground thinking of myself as sleeping beauty as I drifted off. I stupidly asked how much a ten bag was. I know, it's idiotic but hey, that's me after being up for 24 hours.

We left an hour or so later and went back to the room, his friends were currently at the Heineken brewery so we decided to sit by the bar and chat. The barmaid was also English so we got a few drinks for free and I felt like a celebrity.

His friends came back and I thought I'd give them some time to themselves. The man at the bar gave me some drinks so it would have been rude to refuse.

Either way when they told me they were going out and I decided to tag along I was fairly drunk and in-between I had taken advantage of the smoking room. I was enjoying life so to speak. We went out and decided to go to a gay bar as one of the group was gay and I had never been to a gay bar.

We stepped inside and what I found inside was basically the running gag for every Police Academy movie of the Blue Oyster bar. I was way out of my depth. They all seemed like lovely guys but I had never even owned a pair of chaps let alone seen them.

We hit the next place and after an hour or so I decided I had drunk too much and tried to head back to the hostel. Tried.

This was a great idea. Stumbling down the streets of a foreign country with no idea where I was going and no-one knowing I was gone.

Luckily I had the bright idea of hailing a taxi.

This was my error. Probably one of the worst mistakes I've ever made.

In a flash a black BMW pulled up. It looked way too expensive for a taxi but this was another culture so I thought, what the hell. I got inside and there were two guys in the front seat.

Of course I think this is normal.

They ask for 25 euros up front before we've even moved.

Of course I think this is normal. 

They ask for another 25 after we start moving.

Sadly this is the only moment in the night my brain kicks in and thinks this whole situation is weird. And I remember there is nothing on this car to signify it's a taxi. Nothing. I'm a British tourist being kidnapped in a foreign country. I'm a Daily Mail article waiting to happen. The comments section would be filled with people blaming the Tories for absolutely no reason.

So I say I have to get out. I feel ill. Of course these guys don't want to rob me of 100 euros and have to clean out a car. So they stop and I get out and start walking away as fast as I can with wobbly legs and wet cobbles beneath me.

End of the situation. I did something stupid and I paid for it in money. Far less than a lot of people.

Not so.

The passenger climbs out and start running after me. He is very athletic, I am not. He grabs me by the shirt. At which point the car is well on it's way, reversing up the road towards me. I turn around and put on my serious face and tell him he better let go. I'm not giving him any more money or I'm going to beat the crap out of him.

I turn and run, throwing caution to wind I go as fast an I can. Usain Bolt in the making of course I run past several women in windows with dead eyes. The man keeps running after me but I'm away. I'm gone. Like dust in the wind. I have a stitch, and have to stop.

Who would have thought poor health would be the reason I left this planet early.

The man catches up to me and grabs me. Telling me I owe him money. Now I'm not a financial expert but I assume that 25 euros for 100 metres of travel is overpaying. I tell him to let me go or I'm going to release the Hulk. Apparently this doesn't cross the language barrier because who isn't scared of the Hulk?

Either way I struggle like Houdini and shove him off of me.

He let's go and calls me names you wouldn't find in the phone book. The driver who pulled up beforehand is looking through the rear window as this is happening with a look on his face that I could only describe as pure hatred.

I turn and walk. Slowly. It looks as if it's with purpose but really it's so I don't trip and fall.

I find my way back to the hostel to be greeted with my Canadian friends asking what happened. I mumble the word kidnapping and fall asleep. Which pretty much describes the entire trip.

On the other hand did you know that Amsterdam puts mayonnaise on their chips like ketchup? I've seen 'em do it, man. They fuckin' drown 'em in that shit.

THE Date

Now for me dating is something that doesn't happen much. Not because I'm not incredibly charming and "ruggedly handsome but not in the traditional way" but because I work long hours. So I usually turn to the internet for such things meaning that I have an OKCupid profile like a surprisingly large amount of people it turns out.

The first girl I met was great and it turned into a three month relationship but then failed due to me and her not being available at the same time. She was an air hostess (I know, right?!) with crazy hours and I generally just had long hours. 

I'd been messaging people for a while but nothing had come of it until I met the next girl. We'll call her "Sarah" as that's not her real name. 

"Sarah" was great, she was dry, and had a wicked sense of humour so we talked for a month. I thought things were going really well and I knew they were for a fact. More on that later.

So we decided to meet. Or rather I perhaps sent the sweetest message ever and she accepted and we decided to go get burgers at a place that was enough of a restaurant for people not to assume your first date had been in a rest area and served out of a van. 

But something had happened a couple of weeks into us talking. She had a blog. It was not like this where I occasionally post stories but she treated it more like Twitter with constant updates about everything. Everything.

Now I don't mind this as you can do what you want on the internet as long as you're okay that people will read it. But this was different, I had found she was posting things about her online dating adventures (that was the hashtag she used). The first message was innocent and sweet, something along the lines of "But in case you were wondering I have found a really sweet guy on there who I'm probably going to do something with. He's super tall."

Now I would have been suspicious that it wasn't me but I am tall compared to her and I am incredibly sweet when I need to be. So we carried on and she had no knowledge I was looking her account almost every day. Looking for feedback and what she really thought of my messages. 

It was like The Departed. I was Michael Douglas feeding information through and waiting to see what would come out of the other end. She was Matt Damon. 

So on the day of the meet there were several posts about how she was nervous. I expected nothing less and was still looking forward to it. Towards the end of the day I was nervous but still excited and that's what caused me to make my first mistake. I decided to go to the pub with a female co-worker to relax and wait out the time until we were supposed to meet. This in itself wasn't a mistake but then leaving the pub which was coincidentally next to where we were meeting with the girl from work was. 

I saw her and she saw me, and then she saw her. I'm not sure what she was thinking but I then rushed over to clarify that she was from my office and not in fact the first part of a double feature Friday for me. Not a good start. 

Either way I could tell she was terrified. Incredibly nervous so I took it easy and started with a handshake. But then I found she was a very different person in real life. In terms of looks she was lovely. The same. But she wouldn't say anything. Didn't start any lines of conversation. But again I thought maybe she needs time to ease into it, it's okay. It's nerve-wracking for anyone. So it was all on me. And I'm fine with that. Anyone that knows me knows I love to talk. But at first I was struggling. I mean none of our in jokes seemed to have any effect so by the third minute of the date I was pointing out where I got my hair cut. Not a good sign. 

Then we got lost. This was all my fault as I hadn't been to this place before but it did help her crack a smile which I was happy about. 

I was confused, none of her blog posts had indicated that it would be this difficult. But I persevered, knowing that there was no way we could talk for this long before the date and be this quiet and that she would soon become comfortable enough to talk candidly.

We arrived at the restaurant and sat, down, I ordered a burger and a beer and she ordered a burger and a coke. I got chips and indicated that she was more than welcome to have some but she declined. I get it. Some people want to stay away from carbs, no judgement. 

But then she took the red onion off her burger. How could you abide by taking the sweet delicious crunch of red onion rings from your burger. I was flabbergasted. 

Either way we sat and the table was wobbly. And due to my lack of material that became the topic of conversation. It would be the anecdote that we would always bring up when we thought back to our first date. And the story we would tell at dinner parties with our other married friends over wine, which I would eventually learn to love. But sadly not. 

We paid and left feeling our stomachs more full but the chances of a second date slowly emptying out of the bucket that was the evening. 

I rejoined her upstairs and I could tell she wasn't feeling any more comfortable so I decided to slowly walk back to the station so that if somehow she seemed more receptive to me we could always grab a couple of drinks in the pub next door. 

But then something happened. I always thought it was a possibility but never really considered it. It was quite a coincidence considering the timing involved and the distance we had to walk. 

We ran into my boss. 

To be fair he was great about the whole thing. He stayed for the appropriate amount of time which was about thirty seconds. But it was the like the thirty seconds that the main protagonist has to defuse the bomb at the climax of any movie. As it actually is more like five minutes. After he left we were back on our way. I still felt no excitement from her. 

We arrived back at the station and I knew it was time for us to part ways. I thought a one-armed "well we tried!" hug might be appropriate but she felt differently. We ended on  handshake. I mean seriously I expected nothing but a handshake is far more awkward than nothing in my opinion. I would have taken a relaxed wave but sadly not.

All in all I picked her up from the station at 7pm and she was back on a train by 8:15pm. Which really is an excellent advert for Byron and their fantastic service. 

I went back to the office to pick up my belongings and then headed back home. She texted me sorry that she was so awkward and I replied telling her not to worry and get home safe. There has been no conversation since sadly. 

I checked her blog later that night. Two posts. One, whilst I was in the bathroom about her being nervous. By this point that was a running theme. 

And two, which I found particularly difficult. #not bad not good.

Like, no shit?

But when I went home I did have time to catch the 11pm showing of Whiplash. Which is incredible by the way. Especially with a completely empty cinema and the beers I managed to sneak in my large jacket pockets. 

I highly recommend you go see it. Either way I'm reworking the profile.

I realise the irony of her writing about it and now I'm doing the same. I'm okay with it. 

Gaming: The Art Of Looking Like A Moron, Confidently.

Blah blah, last post was over six months. Sorry.

In my ongoing quest to be able to work out the fairer sex and actually find myself engaging with them I have been trying far more desperate ways to satisfy the need for a relationship. I mean I will admit that the Metro paper's Rush Hour Crush was a low point but I would have thought the majority of people would describe me as "The tall, muscular, dirty blonde haired man with exotic features on the train from Plymouth."

Either way my searches were in the back of my mind when I arrived at Speedflatmating in order to find someone to move in. I just wanted to get in, get out and possibly have a couple of drinks in between. I did my usual spiel about where it was, how much, and how I'm actually a lot tidier than I look and after several drinks decided to leave. I was checking my phone outside when someone from inside who I had talked to asked me for a lighter. Let's call him Jeremy. Because his real name is too hard for me to spell without looking it up.

I obliged Jeremy's wish and as anyone who was slightly tipsy on a Tuesday night would, asked if he wanted to talk to the girls who had also just left the building. Obviously they heard me loudly ask the question but kindly decided not to slap me straight away when I walked over.

Obviously it went horribly. They were all talking amongst themselves, and I stood at the edge of the group for about five minutes standing guard in a fashion not too dissimilar to a meerkat before turning around and walking with "Jeremy" back to the tube station. It was here that Jeremy suggested I read a book he had studied called "The Game" which was about the art of pickup. He explained the basic concept and left me to walk home.

A couple of months later I had read everything I could find on this subject. It was fascinating. The idea of manipulating someone's mind in such a way but in the back of my head there was the part that suggested it was a horrible idea. Some of the basics include the push, pull technique. This is where you show interest before suddenly and randomly leaving them. Apparently this "shakes reality" for them leaving them confused and disorientated. With the same amount of social tact of shaking a baby I imagine.

(Side note: Don't shake your baby. Wave a spoon around their head in a circular motion like normal people.)

Other's include negging which is a similar principle but with compliments instead. "That dress looks great on you, shame it didn't come in a more fitting size" (I realise this makes no sense but either way). Now I have wanted to go to this 40's themed night for a few months now but have had no-one to go with. So I did my usual Saturday night routine of buying eight beers and watching something equally bad on Netflix.

Now I know thought processes don't usually make much sense if you have been drinking but this night was especially bad. I had almost finished my beers when I decided that tonight was the night I try "Gaming" some poor woman. So I looked the route up on Google Maps, put on my best 40's style outfit, then took it off because I looked ridiculous, and replaced it with a shirt my mother bought me for Christmas.

I walked out of the estate with long confident strides as I saw myself lay out a new life with my newfound confidence. I was going to game a girl, take her home, make passionate love for two to three minutes, including foreplay, re-game her every morning to fill her confidence in me, (not unlike Adam Sandler in 50 First Dates) and before she knew it we would have two kids and too many wedding gifts that would need returning to even think about calling off the marriage. You know...like in the movies and stuff.

Anyway my confidence was short lived as I had to wait twenty minutes for the bus and by the time it arrived I was sober. Bearing in mind it is midnight and I am making the half hour journey to a club night that closes at 2am. I guess my logic on the matter was that the more late to the party I was the more fashionable I would appear.

So when I find the bus terminating somewhere other than I need to be and I realise I went in the wrong direction, again another smash to the confidence bone. So as I wait another ten minutes for another bus in the cold, I ponder what brought me to this point in my life. I suppose one of my biggest mistakes was breaking up with the only serious girlfriend I had under the guise of needing to concentrate on my French aural exam. In my defence I only switched to foundation level at the last minute...

It's sad to peak at fifteen.

But tonight this was no matter for I had my "Game Face" on!

After about an hour I arrived at the destination and immediately walked into a private party. I was not told to leave but did so out of kindness to the kid that was trying to sleep at his own bat mitzvah.

Now two essential points for Gaming, I should always stand up straight, posture is very important to women as it shows I carry myself well and care about how I look. So as I walk into the correct party looking like I'm smuggling scaffolding down my shirt I see people dancing and having a good time. Which is great! But in the five metres I walk to the bar, it all stops. Immediately. Not so great.

Second essential point. I should always smile, and have a smirk that makes people think that you know some gossip they would love to hear. It's juicy as hell too. So I throw my best Clooney face on and stand at the bar. For an hour. I drank two beers and left. I honestly could not think of a worse was to spend my Saturday. I decided that as no women were there at that point I should leave. I have no idea what the bar staff thought of me but they were perfectly pleasant about it considering. I mean who in their right mind come in to a bar an hour before closing, stands with his drink for an hour grinning like the Cheshire cat on acid, and tries to make their back so straight they're practically looking at the ceiling?

Anyway I've decided that this is the beginning and the end of my Gaming career. I will stick to my usual routine of over thinking and attempts at witty banter that come off as creepy.

Oh and the worse part was that instead of just being that guy at the bar alone, every time a woman walked past I would push the grinning to the next level so much so that I was laughing at them. and instead of it coming off as charming and mysterious, it came off as rude and insulting. As laughing at strangers usually does.

Ah well. Plenty Of Fish...The tide is coming in.

Selflessness.

This one's about selflessness. Obviously as you may have garnered from the title.

Now when I'm comes to looks and attractiveness I'm pretty average, possibly below despite what my Mother says but still. This is probably due to me caring little about my appearance. Like I've always found it strange how the 'messy but on purpose' hairstyle has become popular. Apparently it looks good now with men and women. You could have the worst hair in the world but if it's on purpose then it's okay, or fashion. Either one.

But this doesn't translate if it's not on purpose. Like you don't see girls going down the street, seeing a homeless man and being all like "Damn girl, check out this dude's do."

I'm not assuming all women are from Harlem but that's immediately where I go when I do think about them. Probably a reason deep down in my subconscious for that one.

So my point is I do very little to alter my appearance. My hair, although different lengths now and again, stays in the same style, and has done for my whole life. I only ever try to do something with it when it's like a costume or something. Which is a surprising amount.

Anyway I'm going to quote Lois C.K. here and say that I'm not one of the guys who walks into a
room and the girl's hearts immediately start pounding and all the blood goes from their brains to their ladyparts. Those guys are out there but 98% of the male population that doesn't comprise of them aren't fans, but we're so lucky that we outnumber them, like they could get most girls but due to our vast size we overwhelm the rest of the women. Like one ant is no problem but a million ants you woud struggle with.

Anyway I'm the guy who walks into a room and the girls are like "Wow, that dude's hair is big AND orange." And I'm just like "I know but, hear me out." And that works for me sometimes. The problem is I get on best with couples, because my appeal can span both genders. So my humour in that sense is about as useful as a dog breeder picking up a neutered puppy.

So this got me thinking, I'm a big believer in the whole, if someones got a nice personality them looks don't really matter. which could be considered a big kick in the teeth for any of my ex's but I've always been pretty lucky in that department. But I always think why do I believe this? Well it's because I can't afford not to. I mean my life would be so very empty if I was a snooty as others.

And I was thinking well how do I know this is actually the case because I'm a good person and not because I just have to be? Like yeah, I would be with someone attractive like Jennifer Lawrence or any of The Saturdays. That's a fact, but I would also be with Sarah Millican because it would be the MOST fun I would ever have.

Now again how do I know I'm doing it because I'm selfless and not for say the money which that Millican is obviously raking in?

Because it spans genders.

I would totally be with: Richard Ayoade, Seth Rogen, Louis C.K., Jason Sudeikis, Jason Segel, John Krasinski.

But if you handed Brad Pitt, Matthew McConaughey or any other male stereotypically attractive to me on a platter I would say no.

Please note this is not to say that anyone in my first list of men is NOT attractive.

So there you have it an easy test to see if you really believe looks don't matter. If you think you would sleep with Matthew McConaughey, you're a bad person.

Taste Is In The Eye Of The...Wait, What?

I recently read an article on the favourite books of celebrities. It was enlightening, not in the sense that we got to know who they were as people but who they wanted people to think they were.

The people who were in it were people like Jim Carrey, Alec Baldwin, Gary Lineker and such so I was expecting some half truthful answers.

Now I expected that with some of these books there would a be a few who claimed to like the classics such as Great Expectations and Oliver Twist but never so many as there actually were. The article was filled with books that would all easily make it onto my high school reading list.

I mean my main point is (you can see I'm serious because my main point is coming in so soon) that you cannot tell me that if once you become mildy famous you suddenly need to like things of what some would call a 'higher class'.

I mean all of the books chosen were the sort you would find in the Waterstones classics section. I mean there was Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, and J.D. Salinger. But the only people with any real sense of truthfulness were Gordon Brown and Wayne Rooney. For those that are interested Brown's favourite book was The Snail And The Whale (I can only presume he has a kid, and is forced to read the same book over and over until he is forced to fall in love with it. We shall talk about this concept later).
and Rooney's was Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Yeah you heard me Philosopher's not SORCERER'S.

I'm just saying they surely have guilty pleasure books and these are often the best. If you ask me 100 time what my favourite book is, 100 time I will say it's Hover Car Racer. By far one of the most enjoyable books ever. Just brilliant.

I have read that book ten times and probably more. I got it when I was like 11? And it's now the most dog eared thing I own. And I have a dog so think about that for a second.

"And that's all I have to say about that."
(I know this was a short and awfully written piece but it just came to my head).
P.S. I'm also a little tipsy. Sorry.

Head Monologues: Episode 2

Brain: "Ed..."

Ed: "Yeah?"

Brain: "Why are you so happy right now?"

Ed: "What do you mean?"

Brain: "Your serotonin levels are coursing all the way through me and it's making me feel uncomfortable."

Ed: "Serotonin?"

Brain: "You know the stuff that makes you happy?"

Ed: "So you remember what it means when you need to complain about me but in an actual psychology exam you choose not to remember?!"

Brain: "That's neither here nor there. Now stop avoiding the question."

Ed: "It's nothing to do with you."

Brain: "Well it is because you are me and I am you etc."

Ed: "I think you might just want to avoid it, you know how you get when you try and understand emotions."

Brain: "It's not much different to when you try Jaegermeister I imagine. Lots of swearing, sweating, coughing and later, vomiting."

Ed: "Fine! Me and the pretty girl from accounting are going on a date."

Brain: "Wait you're not talking about earlier are you, when she said she would show you how to do your expense reports?"

Ed: "Well yes, whenever else?"

Brain: "At exactly which point in that conversation was either one of you suggesting and/or confirming to meet and exchange pleasantries for an extended period of time with the suggestion of romance?"

Ed: "I love it when you talk dirty."

Brain: Yes very funny, ha-ha. But seriously was there any suggestion of you two going out, because I didn't hear any and you know I have to listen to every painful thing you say."

Ed: "Well yeah, you never stop complaining about it..."

Brain: "Well when was it exactly?"

Ed: "When she said she would teach me how to do my expense reports..."

Brain: "Really? You're that desperate, you think that could be classified as a date?"

Ed: "It could! She suggested it! If you replaced with the words expense reports with dinner and a movie  it could easily be a date."

Brain: "And if you replaced them with flush and toilet seat she could be talking about potty training you."

Ed: "Whatever Brain you just don't understand love."

Brain: "This isn't the first time you've done this y'know."

Ed: "Done what exactly?"

Brain: "Romanticise things."

Ed: "In what other ways have I done this then?"

Brain: "On the tube today!"

Ed: "Oh come on don't throw that in my face!"

Brain: "You were debating with me whether the girl on the escalator was amazingly attractive or if you just hadn't been with a woman for so long you were going crazy."

Ed: "I think she just had good bone structure looking back now."

Brain: "And then you followed her."

Ed: "Please I wasn't following her. We were just going in the same direction...for a long time".

Brain: "I rest my case."

Ed: "But this is different, we know each other's names, we work in the same office..."

Brain: "Ah so it is true love."

Ed: "It's fate Brain. F...E...T...E."

Brain: "Wait that's how you've been spelling fate all this time? You really are an embarrassment to both of us you know that right?"

Ed: "Shut up! There are like 4 different spellings and meanings, how is anyone supposed to keep track!?"

Brain: "I'm just saying don't over-do it. Talk to her first and then maybe in 6-8 weeks you can have a casual meeting out of work with a group of friends."

Ed: "You're a real life Casanova you know that?"

Brain: "Please for both of us just don't treat it like a date."

Ed: "I can't hear you over the sound of me renting a tuxedo!"

Brain: "Don't bring her chocolates either."

Ed: "Not even Ferrero Rocher?"

Brain: "Especially not Ferreo Rocher."

Ed: "You're right, if I get her those she might just want me for my money."

Brain: "What money? I think Skittles might be more within our price range."

Ed: "Skittles, individually engraved with hearts?"

Brain: "Don't go there!"

Ed: "Too late! I'm getting that miniature engraving kit I got from eBay. And you said I would never use it..."

Early Morning Head Monologues.

Brain: "Ed, you know you have work tomorrow?"

Ed: "Yep."

Brain: "Do you know what time it is?"

Ed: "It's exactly 1:55am."

Brain: "And you have to be up in less than 7 hours."

Ed: "So by this logic I will get 6 hours of sleep by the time I finish my work."

Brain: "Yes, but your work will take longer than that if you go by your usual logic of as soon as you finish a question you get to eat and watch an amusing video on YouTube. Not to mention your cholesterol."

Ed: "Brain, please. I'm 18 I don't worry about annoying things like cholesterol or...tax forms."

Brain: "Yes, but you don't have to worry about it that's always my job and you're always really annoyed at me when the alarm goe...Wait you haven't even given in your tax form?!"

Ed: "I'm sure it will sort itself out, usually does."

Brain: "It's because of the girl from accounting isn't it. You just want her to come over and have a reason to ask you something."

Ed: "Credit me with some intelligence brain, I don't need to come up with fake reasons to talk to attractive women."

Brain: "You called her back to tell her that you preferred to be called Ed not Edward."

Ed: "IT WAS A SLOW DAY! Look please I'm making progress, you should know you were there."

Brain: "Yes...Sadly myself and everyone else was there to witness that pathetic display."

Ed: "Please like you could ever get girls."

Brain: "I can and I have!"

Ed: "Yeah but you go all mushy with your emotions and it's pitiful."

Brain: "Well if you didn't drink so much I could be on my game. You know I hate chugging but you and throat team up and force me into it."

Ed: "Actually I made those decisions myself...The fact that people were yelling chug has nothing to do with it."

Brain: "Whatever, we're getting off topic, are you going to at least go to sleep?"

Ed: "Well if I go to sleep I can't get my work done."

Brain: "Well how about doing your work then?"

Ed: "Yeah but work is hard and I'm very tired. It really is a vicious circle that I get caught up in."

Brain: "So what? You're just going to continually watch Hotel Babylon until you either fall asleep in your chair or mash some half-arsed piece of work together?"

Ed: "Or until I finish this series."

Brain: "Then what will happen?"

Ed: "Honestly?"

Brain: "Yes."

Ed: "I will probably start the next one..."

Brain: "Exactly."

Ed: "But Charlie just kissed Rebecca at the Christmas party!"

Brain: "I don't care if she dressed as Father Christmas himself and asked him to call her daddy."

Ed: "What? Where did that come from? It's like you had that ready..."

Brain: "Let's not talk about it."

Ed: "Look, we have pulled all nighters before..."

Brain: "Yes but at a party with no responsibilities the next day!"

Ed: "No responsibilities!?"

Brain: "Yes, you fell asleep in Toy Story 3, and then cried for half an hour but you only had yourself to blame."

Ed: "Look I can do this!"

Brain: "What about the night before that?!"

Ed: "Hey! We said we would never speak of her."

Brain: "Yes, we did I'm sorry, I crossed a line...But you know you can't claim you were drunk forever..."

Ed: "Shut-up! Stop reminding me."

Brain: "Look I will help with the first step, where is your memory stick with all your work?"

Ed: "Uhhh..."

Brain: "You left it on the pretty accountant's desk."

Ed: "Well..."

Brain: "So she would find it and return it."

Ed: "It might work!"

Brain: "Ed, she doesn't even know it's yours! She has never had any affiliation with it before!"

Ed: "My name will come up when she plugs it in."

Brain: "Oh Christ don't remind me, why again did you call it Ed's Stick?"

Ed: "Hehe...I think that's fairly obvious."

Brain: "You are a child."

Ed: "What does that make you?"

Brain: "Okay smarty pants, what happened when she didn't return it?"

Ed: "Oh..."

Brain: "You forgot it for real didn't you?"

Ed: "Maybe."

Brain: "I give up. Let's just see what happens with Charlie and Rebecca"

Ed: "Well I assume it will be awkward as she is his boss."

Brain: "I meant just watch the show."

Ed: "Okay now you're speaking my language."

Brain: "What does that even mean? What time is it?"

Ed: "2:30am"

Brain: "You're the worst you know that right?"

Ed: "Love you too buddy."