Chasin' Jason

So, Jason has left. This is saddening- but we must soldier on. We will reforge the shattered pieces into a glorious new jigsaw puzzle, one free of Jason and his incessant boasting of how much he has done with his life.

Right after two days of moping in bed.

'But, Rory!' You cry, spittle flying and a crazed look in your eye (my god, you do get passionate about these blog posts, don't you?), 'I wanna hear about Australian Christmas!' At this point, you stamp your feet and throw all your toys out of the cot because I haven't housebroken you properly. Well, fine, metaphorical baby readers, here's how christmas went down: on christmas eve, Jason and I attended a double bill of Shop Around the Corner and It's a Wonderful Life; we had to leave the second slightly early and so in my mind that film now ends with him committing suicide- I don't know why everyone calls it uplifting.

Pictures from the Astor, where we viewed this depressionfest.

Jason and I then returned home and drunkenly chatted with loved ones on the internet, and showed each other pictures of how we used to look (so much hair...*shudder*).
The next morning, Shane, Jason, me and some douche I've never met before had a barbecue for breakfast.

Not pictured: croissants in the conservatory.

There were sausages, sauce and bread. We'd hunted the bread ourselves, because we're MEN. During this time we tried to name all fifty states of the US because the brain can atrophy like any other muscle.

All that's left of the dropbears that jumped us during the bread hunt.

Then, the douche left, stung by his inability to remember New Hampshire, and the three real men sat down to smoke and ruminate. Not cigarettes, little one, my heavens no, but a hukkah pipe. It was really rather relaxing.

Jason's christmas hukkah.

After this, we watched some christmas movies, including Charlie Brown and, perhaps more bizarrely, Batman the Animated series, then Jason and I went for a walk, wherein we encountered a brown snake. Let me dictate for you how it went down:

JASON: (Thick Gloucestershire accent that is somehow at once both homely and grating) Oi'm not looking where I'm going, so oi'm no!

(The brown snake appears. Jason makes to step on it.)

ME: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!


(I dive between Jason and the snake, and, using my incredible kung fu skills, vanquish the fucker (the snake that is, not Jason))

JASON: Oi've never seen a snake trounced so thouroughly before! Neato!

Starring Rik Hart as the serpent.

Truly, I am both the st Patrick and the shakespeare of our time.

On Boxing Day, I saw the Hobbit, and honestly I was disappointed: they've turned what is an enjoyable fantasy heist movie into a bloated diatribe on what 'home' means. There's a lot to be enjoyed, but also a lot that could be cut.

Gandalf the grumpy.

Interestingly, I saw Les Mis and I would have much preferred for that to have been split into multiple films: or, even better, presented like an old film with an interval in between two two hour parts. So, essentially, a stage play on screen. Hmmm...

Then, on the 27th, I stayed up all night with Jason, wishing him farewell and then spent the next two days sleeping it off. Go me. I really will miss the blighter, and am now holding auditions for his replacement, but things aren't looking too swell on that front: I may have to wait til term begins anew. Which is in february. Alack.

P.S. I realise I still owe a Blank slate post and a 'the other stuff I did when I didn't post for ages' post, but hold your horses. They're coming.


Probably.
P.P.S. As of today, this trip is the longest I've ever spent away from home.