Water Fights and Nicking of Sofas

Yesterday (Monday) we arranged to have a poker night with the class. We've had one before, and if they continue to end up like these I'm not sure that it is justifiable to call them poker nights anymore. On the first one we actually played poker for some generous 10 minutes or something before alcohol took over. This time we didn't even get to take out the cards (this is a metaphor as we actually used them a lot for drinking games).  Of the twenty-something we (I) invited, only 8 showed; Frankie, Michelle and roommate Claire, Matt, Dan (who apparently wasn't even invited.. my bad!), Frankie's 'friend' Zac, Sophie and I. It was at Frankie's. She has a spacious (for london area standards anyways) living room. She was wall-to-wall carpets (do you actually call them that?) in every room besides the kitchen and maybe the bathroom (we have the same situation at our place).

We did:

The Circle of Death/Ring of Fire (Michelle had to drink the jug, which had a serious portion of guinness in it, together with some spirits making it a liquid pukyfier) Due to some unlucky waterfalls Frankie got it worst this round.

The Bus Driver (I can never remember the second half of this game, and seeing as it seems to be norwegian, I'm not getting any help here)

My very own modified "I have never" game. You state that you have done something, people say if they believe you or not. Those who are wrong have to drink. Simple! (and doesn't get the same repercussions the day after as the conventional game does when you, say, spill a bit too much about your bedroom activities and someone (Matt) decides to record the whole shebang on his camera)

Then we did some sort of version of beer pong with my newly acquired ping pong balls (2.90 at Argos!). Boys agains girls. Boys were loosing badly. Zac had to finish something that was mixture of guinness, vodka, whisky, more vodka and maybe some alcopop-mayhem.

Then we started throwing ping pong balls, and after I'd thrown a few at Frankie she decided that throwing a glass of water at me was probably something I'd greatly appreciate. This escalated into a vicious water fight, where Frankie barricaded herself in the bathroom with the shower head, and apparently she was feeling slightly trigger happy. Matt was our team leader, and the fight that did little to encourage further use of 'wall-to-wall carpets' only ended when Matt felt we had to retreat and close the door while my and was holding a class through it. Frankie, a glass shorter and rather wet, went to bed and the rest of us went to trusty Subway and I caught a bus home after an hour of talk by the bus stop.

This morning, my dear girl managed to convince me to come out of bed. I was slightly reluctant, but we have these talks on tuesdays, where professional photographers come and talk to us. Interesting stuff! - Usually that is...

This guy did not find anything even a little bit wrong with talking to a photography class for an hour and a half about psycho analyzation. It did not, by far, seem anywhere near worth it to get up to see that thingy. I was not happy at all.. I was bored and tired, and admittedly slightly hung over. He talked about this Baader-Meinhof german activist group. They are featured in a new film, which I might actually see (hopefully that one won't be about psycho analyzation). 

The photography course have this 'production space'-area at our disposal. Apparently they fought really hard to get it last year. This seems weird because no one really use it. Anyway, they're threatening to take it away if we don't start using it (bastards!), so we started making plans of how to make it more habitable (it's on the 4th floor. ALOT of stairs). Me and Matt have discussed getting a sofa up there. And by encouragement of my crazy-cool teacher (his name is actually Vince) and by inspiration from the talk we decided to start the Sofa Thieves Activist Group (we didn't really, I did now). Anyways we just nicked one that wasn't being used. We did some reconnaissance (damn, I actually managed to spell that correctly on the first go!) first. We checked out the lift and ran into this smart-ass security guard fella. He was digging for info, but we didn't give him any. We went in, got the sofa (our plan was to simply look really important so that no one would stop us. The guard wasn't there so it was all good (except that the sofa was heavy as fuck! and the lift was slightly too small.. didn't stop some art weirdos from insisting to join us in there, though). Finally we had to bring it up some stairs and into the production space. I went down to get the cushions. When I went to the lift the second time, the security guy was there and he was nosy once again. Wanted to know where I'd gotten the cushions. I replied that Vince asked us to get them (as he instructed us to say). He was smirking and looking slightly defeated. Once I got up I sat down there and looked through some photography books for about an hour before Matt came along telling me that we had to take the fucking thing back down again. We decided not to do it today.

You know the feeling when someone seems to be inviting you to punch them in the face? I met the security guy again. Same smirk - this time victorious. He could inform me that we had to take the sofa down again, as he had indeed hinted was going to happen. Punching a security guy is never a good idea, and I'm not the violent type. 

I went home. Made some curry. My girlfriend (Kornelie, if you didn't know it. Here she's called Nell, same way I'm called Theo) was going to London tonight because she's going to Paris tomorrow. She actually managed to forget her passport, so she had to go back, and I had to go to the train station with it, wearing shorts (pretty cold I tell you). When I got back I started this blog, and I felt I had to recap the last months before I started on today. So, there it is. It's beginning...

Now I'm going to bed.