Fortress of Solitude.

So, Morgan's been gone for a almost a week. Being alone... isn't all that bad. It's kinda nice actually. A little lonely, but there's no need to compromise and I can do whatever I want! Shaving? Who needs it? Fancy meals? Not for me. Clothing? Yes. Yes, I do need clothing. Even when Morgan is gone, clothing is still a must, except for designated naked areas like the bathroom and kitchen.

How does one entertain themselves when their entertainment is 5 hours away in a theme park? Well. One reads books. And one cooks, and one searches the Internet for all manners of entertainment. Mostly that comes in the form of documentaries. Ask me anything you want to know about Charles Manson, I've seen three movies about him. Oh. I've also been looking for jobs. Endlessly. What great defeat job hunting imposes on the spirit. I've spent hours scouring the city for ''for hire'' signs. I've applied to about 6 different places. Butcher shops, card shops, pizza places, bakeries and diner's. It's so crushing to hand in your resume and sit at home and just know that the chances of anybody telephoning me are slim. I wish somebody had told me that, apparently school isn't important, unless you want to do more school. Go to school, get good grades, and maybe you can go to university or college. I wish I had known that school means nothing when trying to get a job. I think I may have been better off now, if I had gotten a job when I was 14 and stuck with working until I graduated. It's very frustrating knowing that school means nothing and employers don't care what your grades are like, or if you've never missed a day of school, etc etc... They want experience. For good reason of course. But... I don't have experience. One job means nothing. Or maybe it does and I'm just frustrated of certain others successes with this particular matter. Job hunting is simply frustrating. Oh well. I'll keep on that. Any advice on the matter? Comments section please.

The One That Got Away

On the subject of entertainment, fishing proves to be a splendid way to pass the time. To tell you the truth, I had always held the belief that fishing was boring, and stupid and only the father figures from the Sunday comics would put themselves through the drudgery of fishing. Anyone else who fished was just a plain boring person. But it's awesome. It's terribly enjoyable, and the whole killing the fish thing is a lot easier. I've managed to keep myself from screaming like a little girl when I cut it's head off. But! I've a story to tell. A story my friends, about the one that got away.
There I was...standing... and holding my fishing rod when I felt a small tug on the line. Then a big tug, then a huge tug that sent me in a stumbling mess toward the edge of the water and straight into the fence. The line was pulled taught and my pole looked like it was going to snap. I pulled and pulled and looked toward the water and that's when I saw it, flipping about in the water like an alligator in a death roll. It was huge. It was a beast. It had these terrible teeth sticking out of it's head and it looked like it could have swallowed a toddler. I panicked and tried to think quickly about what I should do next. It was far to large to reel in. Not only that, but I very much intended on keeping my limbs. I struggled to think as it flopped around in the water and thrashed around, creating it's own wake in the calm water. I decided it would be best for both my limbs, and the beast fish, if I cut the line. I let out some line and backed toward my tackle bag grunting like a fat asthmatic jogging behind an ice-cream truck. As I reached for my bag, the fish broke away and that was it. He was gone, and I was safe.
And that my friends, is my very first fisherman's tale, about the one that got away.

It's been an interesting week in Plymouth. Last night.... I got a call from (hopefully) one of Morgan's friends who was commenting about how sexy I looked in my facebook pictures. The number was blocked, but I just assumed it was Morgan's boyfriend playing some sort of strange trick on me. And I'm still hoping I'm right in assuming so.

One of the strange culture shocks in coming to Plymouth would have to be the constant fighting. Not many days pass that I don't see two or more men beating each other senseless or two women screaming their necks off. It's absolutely prevalent here. I can't say I feel as if I'm in any danger, because everyone has generally been very kind to me, but it is rather strange to walk past a couple getting into each others faces, or a drunkard stumbling toward me in the middle of the day.
Cougars

Clubbing in England is fantastic. Morgan and took a trip down to a local club the other week. A 70's themed club! Ya. It was awesome. Lot's of fun, lot's of dancing. But, as I should have expected, with 70's clubs (or maybe just bars and clubs in general) comes 70's women. You know. The.. the older ladies. The forty-plus-ers. Nothing wrong with them. They add character, and they're fun to dance with. Most of them anyway. This is the revolting tale of one such lady who was not much fun. Not much fun at all. While at the club, Morgan and I had decided to take a break from dancing and instead focus on getting something liquidy and impairing into our bodies. It was my turn to get drinks to off to the bar I went and that where I bumped into her...
We'll call her.... Betty.
The dialogue between Betty and I went a little something like this.
Betty-( to be read in a raspy, horrible British accent. )
''Ello there''
''Hi!''
''Are you gay?''
''Ummm, nope.. nope, sorry.''
She stumbles a bit and her drink spills on her hand. She takes no notice.
''Are you Ammmmmarican?''
''Nope, I'm from Canada.''
''But ya not gay then?''
''No. Still not gay''
''But ya breath smells like gaaalic (garlic) and gays breath smells like gaaaalic.''
''Ya, sorry, I've been eating garlic''
She comes in close to my face with a yellowing smile, winks at me and says
''It's ok, I like gaaaalic.''
''Well, that's lucky then...''
She gets really close to my face then slips past toward my ear, and brushing my ear with her lips she says
''..mmm, so, you're sure you're not gay then...''
''YUP!''
She slowly pulls her head away from mine and her lips gently brush against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. My knees feel weak and I tell her I have to get some drinks back to my girlfriend. She gives me a quick look from top to bottom and nods her head with a wink, and I'm outta there.

Ya. England is fun. That's all for now. Peace out... P-town.

OH MY GOD WE KILLED SOMEONE!....well something.

Sooooooooooo last night, Jesse and I went night fishing because we're really cool. We had low expectations for catching fish as we had not caught any the night before, however we were more prepared this time. We had been fishing for about 30 mins before our first real nibble. I wasn't quite sure if it was just the tide pulling out our hook or if it was a fish, so I started to reel back in just to check. Sure enough our first fish ''Floppy'' was on the line. I pulled him up on to the dock and Jesse and I just started screaming like little girls. Jesse swiftly bashed Floppy in the head several times with our ''Fish Killer'' (an empty olive oil bottle wrapped in hockey tape) and the freaking fish would NOT die. Finally he stopped flopping around so we chucked him in our fish bag.

Jesse put some bait on the hook again and cast out, not even 5 minutes later we had another fish on the line! Jesse pulled him in and he was even bigger than Floppy (not much bigger, but still bigger). Jesse chucked him on the dock and I gave him one swift blow to the noggin and he was paralyzed. I thought I'd hit him one more time just to be sure he was dead, and he reanimated...it was quite strange....so I wacked him again and he bled from the eye so we called him Bleeding Eye Murphy and threw him in with Floppy.

Once we got back home we poured the fish into the sink to only find that....they were still alive! Floppy was flopping around like mad, and Bleeding Eye Murphy was just laying there breathing his last breaths. We were so scared, and had no idea what to do. So we called around and found that our only option was too chop off their heads. The only problem was that we had the dullest of knives and they were serated. So Jesse grabbed Bleeding Eye Murphy first because well, he was the most dead. He lowered the knife to his neck and it was almost like the fish knew what was going on, his eye slowly drifted upwards staring at us, I'm sure he was cursing us '' YOU FOOLS! Why couldn't you have given us a quick death instead of making us suffer!'' we apologized to them for not being experienced fishers and Jesse began chopping - sawing rather, Bleeding Eye Murphy's head off. It was horrible, his mouth opened wide and it was as if he was trying to scream out. So Jesse and I screamed instead like little girls and had a hug right after because it was so sad. (Now we know why people are vegetarians)

Next to the cutting board was Floppy. I forgot to mention this but while the fish were in the sink, we were looking up on the internet how to kill a fish and it said to stab them in the head behind the eye....so we did it to Floppy....and it didn't do anything, just made him flop around in much more pain. So anyways, once Floppy was on the cutting board we knew what to expect...so Jesse sawed off his head and we plopped both of the decapitated fish into a bag then into the fridge.

Only a few minutes later, I was speaking to my parents on Skype, and they told us that we had to gut the fish or else they would rot. ''Had we not done enough slaughtering for the night!'' we thought. So back to the fridge we went, and grabbed the headless fish and plopped them back on the cutting board. Jesse had read up on how to gut a fish so he sort of knew what to do. It seemed to be going alright apart from it being utterly disgusting. So after the butchering, we had 4 fish fillets, that we later discovered were cut wrong but whatever, it was our first time. So hopefully we'll be out fishing again and know what to do next time haha.


Morgan and Jesse

This video was done on my phone so shitty quality. But genuine reactions haha.

Gobbildy Gook.

Well it seems that Joseph fails at finishing posts, so I thought I may as well post some more until he actually decides to finish and publish a post. I found two posts on here that he has yet to put up and am quite disappointed as I know there quite a few people who actually read this account of our lives here. I actually find it quite interesting to think that people read our blog, it's as if we're creating our own little gossip magazine.

Right, so anyways. If you haven't figured this out already or if no one has told you, Jesse is now here. He got here last Friday, and to my surprise he got in to Plymouth much earlier than I had anticipated. I was expecting him to get in at 3pm, and I believe he got in at quarter to noon. I had gotten a call from his mother and had to make a mad dash to the train station, I don't think I've ever walked so fast in my life! Then of course we walked back from the train station to the flat, then back again to city centre to get groceries. So there was quite a lot of walking that day.

There was quite a lot of walking yesterday also, as we had many a things to do. We went to the bank to get Jesse set up with a bank account here, got our National Insurance Numbers sorted (SIN), I showed him around the Barbican and the Hoe and we bought some fishing gear. The total walking time was approx 6 hours. Let's just say I've got legs of steel my friends, pure iron legs.

I'm sure you're wondering why we bought fishing gear...Well the ocean is only a 3 minutes walk away from our flat and there's always people fishing so we figured, ''why not!'' So we fished, and failed to fish. We shall try again another time and hopefully catch something large and in charge.


Anyways, off to go apply for more jobs.


MORGAN!

A new delight.

Sorry I haven't posted lately (don't shout at me or anything, please you'll make me cry). But I've been out and about discovering the rural area with friends. Last week I stayed at 4 different guys houses (hahaha that sounds horrible, but they're just friends from school) they all live in a town called Saltash which is just outside Plymouth, and just by Plympton. It's a nice little area very ''small english village'' like. I did take pictures and was going to post them but my batteries are dead in my camera....so I can't post them. SORRY!

But whilst on my wild and wacky adventures out there, I discovered a new delight of which I will share with you....it is called a ''Crisp Sandwich''. Basically two pieces of bread, buttered, chips of your choice in between the bread. It sounds freaking weird but it's DELICIOUS! Also ''Chip Sandwiches'' are good too, you just replace the crisps with fries and ketchup. It's brilliant.

Anyways, sorry this is a short post but I'm going to go finish eating my sandwich hahaha.


Morgan!