The Emasculation Diaries Chapter 1

Yet another series that I intend to start on this blog (one which I'll probably keep going... which I'm not sure is a good thing). In particular, this will document the continuing episodes in which I manage to demonstrate how much of girly-man I really am.

So yep, I've gone from the frying pan of assignments into the fire of exam study. Joy. But hey, even in the confines of my room I'll need a break every now and then. And what does one Loveable Loser do during said breaks might you ask? Well actually, I pump weights while simultaneously polishing off a slab of VB and watching V8 supercars.

Or... not. Even though I had you fooled I actually ended up... cleaning my room. Oh yeah. Just saying that made my stubble grow an inch. I decided to re-arrange my room which would hopefully encourage more study unlike the mess I had before. It all sounds boringly sensible.

Eventually I had to tackle the beast that is my clothespile. I maintain that every healthy 20-something should have a clothespile. Nevertheless, there is a point where it can get outta control. A quick look at my own clothespile and it seemed as though I was miles past that point. I think my guitar was being chewed by the pile. Really.

And so led to my training in the forbidden Japanese art of errr... folding shirts.

BEWARE: Intense training is very intense.

After 38 seconds of the most intense, brutal, sweat-inducing training ever, I was ready to tackle my clothespile. And you know, after an epic 15 minute battle: VICTORY. But that wasn't the most satisfying feeling. Sure, my room was a lot cleaner. It was however the thrill of learning the ability to fold shirts quickly was the best feeling I've had in quite a few weeks.

That's right ladies. I've got arms the size of pythons (well... baby pythons) and I also can fold shirts really quickly. One at a time please.

Stay cool dudes and dudettes