Thunderbozz

A call for Inspecteur Sands was one of the first things I heard when I walked into the train station this morning. It's quite strange hearing it in French: at first it's quite funny, but then you quickly remember to look around you for the nearest exit. A day after the grand opening of St Pancras International station, it was my turn this morning to wait under the Barlow train-shed roof. The promise of arriving in a foreign city in just over two-and-a-quarter hours, combined with the magic of travelling by train and the awe-inspiring surroundings, was too much for me to resist. So here I am, writing after an incredibly pleasant journey through beautiful countryside, in, erm... Sheffield. Travelling by train beats the coach on practically every level: it's far less stressful, faster, more comfortable, more refined, with a higher class of traveller completing the journey with you. Over tables, complete strangers strike up conversations. Couples gaze out on the fields a...

It's an idea that could potentially change the way football is run: round-up enough fans – 50,000, to be precise, each chipping in £35 – and when you've raised enough cash, take over a football club. A real, established football club. As a member of the ownership trust, each member then gets to vote on transfers, squad selections and the running of the club. It sounds like the perfect combination: fans get to inject their passion for the game into the running of the game, clubs get a boost in finances and attendances. It's like Championship Manager – but for real, and with added democracy. This morning, MyFootballClub, the website set up in April to change football forever by attempting such a scheme, announced that it had agreed a deal. Ebbsfleet United (formerly Gravesend & Northfleet), the Conference team just down the road, have sold 51% of their club to the MyFootballClub Trust for £70,000. The impact has been immediate and drastic: directors have all become n...

Today, I was expecting to be sitting at my desk writing an essay. All week my fellow English students and I had been preparing for the 72-hour "take-home" examination, which is essentially an essay that gets set at 16:00 on Friday and is due in by 10:00 on the Monday. That was the plan, anyway... At around 17:20 on Thursday, a fire broke out in the basement of an electrical sub-station on Victoria Street. This knocked out the supply to the vast majority of university buildings on Western Bank and – crucially – to the computer network. With no-one able to access webmail, the English department had no means of telling everyone that the assessment paper would be inaccessible... until they recognised it was too late. Hence, we've all been granted a 7-day extension. As a result, everyone has been hastily re-arranging their plans for next week – which was reading week anyway – and (I'd wager) virtually no-one is panicking about their essay this weekend. Dartford FC update T...

As a rule, I don't like Hallowe'en. But that's not a very sociable attitude, and one that's earned me few plaudits when I refused to get involved in previous years. I was, therefore, slightly disappointed that no-one had suggested going out this year... that is, until Tuesday's suggestion that we head for Corporation's School Ghoul Disco. As you can see from the picture, I even dressed up and everything. In completely unrelated news, I've fallen in love. With Debbie Harry. But not Debby Harry as she is now, because frankly I'm a bit too young for her, only the young Debbie Harry. The reason for this is finding a copy of Blondie's Greatest Hits in Hoomv for £5, and my golly it's one fine selection of tunes. From the lyrically-sparse Atomic to "Denis, Denis" and right up to their 'new' stuff like the brilliantly catchy Good Boys : top class. Also, since I saw you last... Watched extended snippets from some dodgy B-mov...

Today I attended the inaugural Student Media day at the Union. It was an opportunity to hear first-hand experiences of getting into the media – especially from a background in student media, as many of the speakers had – and to gain an insight into an otherwise 'closed' world. The lectures and seminars proved to be fascinating, and, in the case of the seminar on breaking into radio broadcasting, very illuminating. I had always known that competition for such jobs was fierce, and that hard work is required to get anywhere near the top. However, it was highly beneficial to have these facts spelt out in no uncertain terms. Whilst I wouldn't go so far as to say my dreams of a life on-air have been shattered, hearing the real-life stories of people who have worked their way to the top has made me realise that I need to be far more pro-active (and in truth, far more committed) if I wish to fulfil these ambitions. The day also allowed it's contributors to off-load some real ge...

Well, here's something I didn't think I'd be saying this week: Three weeks into the term, and everything's going swimmingly. The courses are interesting, my seminar groups are full of pretty decent people (although there's at least one exception on each module, on the whole I can't grumble), and the workload/timetable is working out just fine. I even managed to get through Middlemarch : despite it being an ultimately pointless use of 900 pages, it's fairly readable towards the end. This weekend's been pretty relaxing, too. Friday night down at Bar One, watching England win twice on Saturday, then catching a couple of films on Sunday. It has to be said, sitting through A Clockwork Orange wasn't as pleasant as Ice Age on Sunday evening with a massive bag of Dolly Mixtures, but at least now I can say I've seen the film and read the book. Well that's a barrel-load of Cockney monkeys, and no mistake! Here's a question for you: does the word ...

The iPod effect Feist goes to number 8 in the charts thanks to this video The Cadbury effect Phil Collins re-enters the chart at 20 thanks to this ad The Big Brother effect The concept of irony is tragically wasted on these two. The Mika effect That bastard's got a lot to answer for.

I felt rather worse for wear two Sundays ago. I thought I had learnt my lesson, but this was obviously not the case. Kids, if you only learn one thing from me, let it be this: Never embark on a marathon drinking session on an empty stomach. Horrorshow Being in a near-paralysed state did home some advantages, the best being the opportunity to see Bill Murray in Groundhog Day , a film that I've been meaning to watch for ages but never had the chance. This year, one of my modules is Film Theory, which is essentially over-analysing movies. This should make a nice change from over-analysing books, although embarrassingly it's highlighted just how few influential films I've seen (as opposed to how many influential books I haven't read). To make amends, I'm taping A Clockwork Orange off the telly tonight... I've read it, for the record. Speaking of the Record, I've been lumbered with a Scottish £5 note. This is karma, because I paid for a 99p refill pad ...

My last day at work was back on Friday the 7th. I can't say I'll miss the work, but having a routine to keep me going through summer was good for me and I also met some great people. As with most things in life, the people you come across are fantastic – unfortunately at the Co-op the experience was slightly soured by poor facilities, shoddy pay and terrible management. - When do you finish, Steve? - Er, Friday - Oh, you shit‘ead. Had the place been more tolerable, I probably would have stuck it out a bit longer. As it is, I've been able to use these last few weeks of the holidays to get a few more things on my "to do" list accomplished. This includes growing a beard (it's coming along, thanks) and getting round the country to see some other places. No offence, plebs, but... A few weekends ago, this meant a trip over the Pennines to Manchester. I didn't see much of the city, although in fairness we were rushing through the place in order to find a pub show...

The trouble with me is that I go through phases. When I discover something I like, it inevitably becomes an obsession. It's not always the case: there are many things that I like which I have liked for years and will continue to enjoy. But since I was little, there's a vast list of long-abandoned fads which I've simply got bored of. My life tends to be like that, too. The reason I don't like my job has nothing to do with the people I work with, the poor pay and the rubbish hours: it's just that I've learnt everything there is to learn; there's nothing new any more. I've literally just got bored with it. The same thing happens at the end of every semester, the end of every summer, the end of every week (to a far lesser extent). The same thing happened with my old blog: it wasn't long before I started another one. Ignore the excuses I've given before: the main reason I haven't been writing much recently is because I'm bored of it. I've...

Our internet connection has been playing up over the last few weeks, and it's highlighted two things. Firstly, that it's incredible just how much we've come to rely on e-mail and the web to get things done every day; secondly, how useless BT (and, from experience, other ISPs too) are at customer service. First we had problems with the line, in fairness that problem was resolved very quickly: but that's because it was BT the phone company rather than BT the internet provider that dealt with it. Trying to get through to someone with the latter was like calling the Indian call centre on Fonejacker . Thanks in absolutely no part to the thoroughly unproductive calls made to the helpline number, it's just about working again now, although at a much reduced speed. Still, at least we can all carry on with our lives now, eh?

I've been enjoying a few days off work this week, and the prospect of returning to the new-look Co-op tomorrow for a gruelling eight-hour shift is not one that appeals. I travelled home early on Friday morning by the train, for a change. It's a vastly more comfortable, relaxing and romantic way to travel (although proportionally more expensive, too) – essential as I needed to be as awake as possible for the long night ahead. My friend Tom is off to sunny South America next year as part of his university course. As he does Spanish, he'll be working at the Argen times newspaper as well as travelling and generally not being in Blighty for a good few months. To send him off well, we managed to organise a surprise party for him, and I'm pleased to report that it worked perfectly. My mum and dad drove me back up to Sheffield on Sunday, and they've been staying up here for the last few days to see the city. This has meant I've been enjoying eating out in sty...

Other people's families have always intrigued me, but I'm constantly surprised at people's interest in my own. After my first year of university, for example, one of the first questions I was asked by a friend from home was "how's your family?". I'm not sure why I remember this particular instance, but it took me by surprise because it was a question to which I had no 'stock answer' for a reply. Unlike most people I know (in fact, nearly everyone I know), my family is very small. I have one brother, two parents and two grandparents. My mum's brother lives nearby, but my dad's sister lives on the other side of the country: I rarely see my younger cousins and certainly didn't 'grow up' with them around. And that's it . If we were to host a family gathering, you'd only need set the table for eight. I simply can't imagine what life is like in larger, close-knit families. We also tend to keep ourselves to ourselves. My pa...

I feel I should contribute more to this blog, especially after events like this one at work today. Woman runs into store. Shouts: "Excuse me, does anyone in here have a silver Rover parked on the hill outside the greengrocers?" Woman at checkout tentatively raises her hand: "Er, yes me" First woman, absolutely deadpan: "It's just that you left the handbrake off and it nearly caused a major accident." Woman at checkout drops shopping on counter to run out... "Oh my-" First woman, cool as you like: "It's OK, there's no rush, someone's put bricks under the wheels." Both women leave the store together. First woman: "A jogger stopped it, he noticed it rolling as he ran past..."

The long-awaited return of my deposit from last year's house has finally occurred, and in celebration I've splashed out on a brand new record player. I don't have any records, but that's because they're all at home. In the meantime, I'm having to amuse myself by helping convert my housemates' vinyl collections to digital. Speaking of new, I've also sorted out our Setanta Sports subscription, so there's now some decent sport on the telly. The only problem with a lot of the games is that they clash with my hours at work. Something's got to give... I'll let you guess which one.

I've just finished reading Ian McEwan's Enduring Love . The critics' reactions printed on the back cover largely agree that the book is "a page-turner, with a plot so engrossing that it seems reckless to pick the book up in the evening if you plan to get any sleep that night". Sorry, Alain de Botton, but I have to disagree on two counts: Firstly, I literally had to stop reading and close the book after each chapter to decide whether it was worth carrying on with. The narrative is self-indulgent and unashamedly elitist, and feels like little more than an excuse for McEwan to prove how clever he is. Secondly, despite all these delays, I still polished off the novel in an afternoon, so Goodness only knows how long it takes de Botton to get through a decent-sized tome. Why did I stick with it? Well, now I don't feel so left out when people on my English course discuss it (most read it at A-level); I know I'm a fast reader and that I could get through it...

Rilo Kiley – A Man/Me/Then Jim Here's a strange thing: for the last few weeks, I've never slept in of a morning because I can't be bothered to wake up; I haven't bitten my fingernails; I haven't posted as much as I usually would on here. I think it's because living up here in Sheffield over the summer – and it's definitely living , not just staying – and the independence that comes with it has been a genuinely positive thing. Yes, the money's tight and the job's a bit rubbish, but being in the house for the calendar year (not just the academic year) has shown me the best the city can offer and brought out the best in me, too. Which is nice .

I had the bottom set of train-track braces fitted to my teeth yesterday, which, some discomfort aside, hasn't proved too painful an experience thus far. The experience of having had one set in for the best part of a year (more?, I really can't remember) has helped. The only slightly embarrassing feature is that while the bar running across my top teeth is now practically as straight as an arrow, the wire on the bottom set looks like the rises and falls of the stock market on a particularly turbulent day of trading. In a strange way, it looked less obvious with just the wonky teeth.

And what a ten days they've been. Since the beginning of July I've been living in our new house (with new housemates) and so far everything seems to be working out splendidly. The general consensus seems to be that I've landed the best bedroom, although in fairness I agreed to have the last room left, so they've only got themselves to blame. It's only a few minutes walk to Broomhill, so our old haunts are still in stumbling distance, Crookes is just up the hill and the University is even closer than before. All in all, I'm pretty chuffed. It's also been a busy week thanks to work, emergency shopping trips ( "Erm... has anyone got any knives or forks?" ), dentist appointments, meals out, poker nights and a trip to the (rather impressive) Kingdom Embrace nightclub in town. Tomorrow I'm having a brace fitted to my lower teeth, which I'm dreading (especially as I have to start a 9-hour shift straight afterwards), but there's birthday celeb...