Flushed
Poker World. That will be one phrase that sums up yesterday. The fact that I was in work (which letters appear in the phrase "Poker World"....and is also worth 11 points in Scrabble) meant that no huge bender of a night out was possible. Instead, I was shocked that I got a phone call from Goz asking me to play poker.
It was the first time I've played for money, usually when I play on Pokerstars (the name rhyswynne....add me to your favourite players list, and I'll give you a game sometime), I play for fun. Sure, it means that I play the odd silly move, but I think I'm okay at the game. This was the first time I played for money.
Anyway, it was only £2 in, making the pot £6, and, after a few hands, I ammassed a bit of a chip lead, Sibley fell - after a gutsy battle - leaving just me and Goz to fight it out.
I went all in on an Ace King unsuited, and Goz called, putting himself all-in. He had a King, 4 suited. I was odds on favourite...
I lost, due to the last card drawn being a 4, and he had a pair of 4's against my Ace High.
It brought it back to near-level, with me having a slight lead. Luckily for me, Goz's agressive play meant that I called a set of 8's against his two Aces. A big hand, which he was hoping for an Ace. Nothing came up, and I took the pot, leaving him with a mere 60 chips left, and I ended up winning.
£6, at the moment for me, is nothing to be sniffed at!
After celebrating my victory, I headed home for the night. Switched on to Itv, and - lo and behold - more TV poker! Christ, as if we don't get enough of it on Challenge. Unfortunately, due to it being Itv, they have dumbed it down. I don't know why, but they didn't even use proper terminology. When somebody had an "Open-Ended Stright Draw" (when you have an 5,6,7,8 and a 4 or a 9 would make a straight), they said "He's got an Up-And-Down Chance of a Straight". Jeez. They called the Button "The Dealer Badge". They even had dramatic music for when somebody went "All-In". It was just a bit silly, and it did lead to my brother shout at my telly a few times.
Finally head over to Today's 5 Things, where I've gatecrashed the 2 year birthday party!
Averagely Fantastic
Last night, I went to see Fantastic Four in the cinema with Goz (who complained why I never mention him), and Sibz (occasional commenter - why we have to end our names in 'z' I have no idea, but there you go). It would be fair to say that I was kind of looking forward to seeing this movie, as I loved the Marvel Action Hour every Saturday (which featured The Fantastic Four), and occasionally read the comics. I won't spoil too much of the film, but here's what I think of it.
First off, it's nothing like Batman which I saw a few weeks ago. That was almost an epic, and was thoroughly worth watching. This was more your run-of-the-mill style film, enjoyable, but not great. A lot of stick was given by critics saying that it isn't "dark and moody enough". That's complete an utter bollocks. In my opinon (and this is from somebody who has read the comic books), that it was too moody. The film shows them become superheroes and how they are thrust into the media spotlight. This is true. However, in the comic books the heroes actually embrace their newfound celebrity status where as in the film (except for Johnny Storm), they shun it. Sure, it would probably make a weaker film if you saw The Thing on Ready Steady Cook, but surely you could fit it in somehow.
The second failing point for the film is Victor Von Doom or, his alter-ego, Dr. Doom. Dr. Doom, especially if you've played the Marvel vs. Capcom series, is a evil-supervillan with ultra-strong powers. Even if you don't know anything about comic books, you'll know that for a film like this you'll need a super strong bad guy, especially with 4 heroes. Alas, this is not the case, as Dr. Doom comes off a little weak. Sure, he can throw lightning about, and he's completely metallic, but that's about it. Throw in no real beatings (though a divide and conquor mechanism which is snuffed out before starting), and very little threats (he kills a bank manager for goodness sakes, half the cinema was cheering), and the big baddy looks a little pathetic, and is beaten all too quickly (though they have left it open for a sequel).
However, apart from those two things, the film is pretty good watch if you don't want a serious headfuck. It's one of those trashy, throwaway films (such as Charlie Angels and the Home Alone films) with no real storylines. As such, it's pretty average, except for the fact I'm a sucker for these sorts of films and there are a few special effects. If you want a no brainer and want to stare at Ioan Griffudd (a fellow Welshman. What's with all these Welshie's being the lady's favourite)/Jessica Alba (or both, if you so desire) for two hours, with a fairly easy to understand storyline and cool special effects, go and see it.
Orgy Borgy
This post - unsuprisingly due to the title - is of a sexual nature. So if you're offended by that, or the thought of me naked surrounded by a number of beautiful women,
please skip this post.
Yesterday - during the first day of the busy period in the Zoo: Officially the chavviest tourist attraction in the world - I recieved a text message from Guy:
"If you were to have an orgy with you and five other people, who would they be?"
And, boy, has it been bugging me.
You see, it starts off fairly easy, as I know who 4 of them would be.
1. Lucy Pinder.
2. Amy Lee.
3. Anna Paquin (Rogue from X-Men).
4. Kelly Brook.
And then I seemed to get a bit stuck. Some of you may be similar, there's a list of about 20, possibly 30 girls who could fill the last place. But to pick one, is a bit of a pickle. It'd be like picking a standout British XI in football (the results you can see to the left: sorry to all you Scots and Irish, but your teams are shit!). I put up two different choices (Kelly Brook wasn't in the starting 5, but has made it in due to a late burst of form) on the tenpin bowling messageboard, but I felt dirty because I rushed the choices. They were both troublesome picks, and I wasn't happy with them. I asked for assistance from my workmates, who posed 3 important questions:
1. This is more for the men: would you have another man there? I mean, you wouldn't have to touch him in any way, shape or form (maybe a manly congratulately smack on the back for....job well done). Sure, the con is one less lovely lady, but the pro is a shared....workload. Would you sacrifice a lady for that?
2. Would you or would you not include ex's/current girlfriends. I mean, all well and good having all these attractive ladies, but supposing if one of your ex's or your current girlfriend was amazing. I mean, better the devil you know?
3. Finally, what about apres-d'orgy? I mean, Nigella Lawson would not be included in my original lineup, but maybe, maybe be included for her quality hors deuvres, or for quality bacon butties post snack? Surely the girls non bedroom skills could, and should, be taken into consideration.
With that in mind, I want you all to tell me what you think, and - more importantly - tell me your five. Vote-o!
Change of Plan
One of the things I found annoying about work is that blogging is a bitch. I reguarly think "Ooh, I'm going to blog about this, this, this and this, as
soon as I get home from work.". Then, you get home from work, situations change, and your masterpiece that would be nominated for every concievable
bloggie possible is ruined.
I've had it twice in two days.
Yesterday's entry was a lot more emotional, and less about Big Brother. I originally wrote it as quite hateful, and said a lot of things about people which I felt was harsh. So I tore it up and wrote a more blog friendly one.
Today I was going to write about the emotional struggle I was having on growing a beard. I kinda let it grow to the "more than bumfluff" stage (hadn't shaved since the wedding a few weeks ago) recently, due to my distinct chances of not getting laid. I was thinking about trying it, just because I had no reason to shave it off, had enough of the Eugene bollocks, and I was thinking of trying a new look. Alas, this wasn't to be the case, as I - if my subconcious was saying "don't be fucking stupid Rhys" - shave it off.
So, instead of talking about beards, I'm talking about shaving off beards. I suppose I'm becoming more mature now (as - if you watch Dave Gorman, you'll know a beard will eventually lead to matureness). I mean, I've spent all evening writing my CV (posted on my other site), for christ sakes.
Then again, how can you define maturity if all you can talk about is shaving beards?
You're an Emotional Wreck, you don't know who you are. You never say what you mean...
I thought I may as well update. The fact is well: life is pretty boring at the moment. So, ever the optimist, I hope to make an entry out of nothing, here goes.
First and foremost, I'm fucking miserable at the moment. I had a cry (yes, a cry) about a number of things, and then poured my heart out to Sarah online earlier tonight. Hell, I've had her do the same to me, so she owes me one. Anyway, I'm still feeling a bit down (largely due to lack of friends around, and social life hitting rock bottom due to the difficult hours the Zoo asks for, I would so suit a 9-5 job). Not even the Captain Pugwash theme - a long time favourite of the bowling club to put a smile on my face - can manage it. I'll get through it, just missing going out and getting wasted. Though, as my old man says, "If you go out to drown your sorrows, you'll find your sorrows can swim.", I just need a night where I can go out and be socaible.
Maybe I care about my job too much.
Right, now that the deadjournal bollocks is out of the way, onto more important stuff. A couple of people in work (the ones who say I look like Eugene) say that they are running a competition on the Big Brother: Little Brother program where they want people who look like Eugene to write in and come on the show. They also said - unsurprisingly - that I'd be a dead cert, and I'm kind of debating whether or not to write in. I've been weighing up the pros and cons.
Pro: I would probably meet Dermot O'Leary, which would be cool, and give me boasting points over all the women and gay men, in the world, ever.
Con: I'm not gay, and therefore any meeting - however cordial it would be - would not be emotionally beneficial to me (unless I can somehow convince ladies that some of O'Leary's charm has osmosised onto me....which probably wouldn't work).
Pro: I may meet Orla, who could be evicted. Which would give me boasting points over at least my mate Guy.
Con: I don't actually like her that much. Plus chance of cordial friendly kiss with Orla may lead to my mate Guy kissing me, to try and catch the tail end of Orla's taste.
The one thing that's bugging me is the whole "15 minutes of fame" thing. I don't want to be famous by being similar to a guy who we won't hear from after this summer. In fact, I don't really want to be famous at all. Nevertheless, it would bring some excitement to my life. What does everybody think?
Can't buy Meme Love*
This meme has appeared on a
few blogs recently, so I thought "Fuck it! My life is boring, so I'll participate in it.". So here we go.
What I was doing ten years ago - 1995.
I finished primary school this year, and started secondary school. I thought "fuck me! I can have a chance to make proper friends now!". The fact I thought the same when I started university sort of suggests the success of this (only joking anybody who knows me!). I remember having a huge bag which is now being used to smuggle illegal immigrants through customs. The bag, and my hair was the course of a lot of stick, and I used to hate getting the bus home. Oh the pain.
5 years ago - 2000.
Ah, 2000. The summer of love. I finished my GCSE's, and - though I didn't have a job - I did have the internet, and a house to myself. No good came from it. However, I did have a quality holiday, where I had my second kiss (which nobody knew). The first one was a year earlier, on the day of the Total Eclipse. The second one was slightly less historical, and a lot less romantic: it was during the first episode of The Weakest Link. I can't remember much of it, largely due to Anne Robinson overbearing voice ringing in my ears. Oh the pain.
1 year ago - 2004
Roundabout now, I was working in West Kirby for Active Presence. If all of my mates had stayed in Liverpool, then it would probably of been the time of my life. Alas no, and my social life hit rock bottom. So I bought a Sega Saturn. Oh the pain.
Yesterday - Wednesday 20th July
I went to Chester with Vicky to aid her to get ready for her visit to Japan. Also stubbed my toe on my front door. Oh the pain.
5 snacks I enjoy:
1. Kit Kat Chunkies
2. Scones
3. Prawn toast (though not really a snack)
4. Plain McCoy's Crisps
5. Mini KFC Fillets
5 songs I know all the words to:
1. Brand New - The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows
2. Feeder - Just A Day
3. Hell is for Heroes - I Can Climb Mountains
4. Radiohead - Creep
5. And thousands more.....
5 Things I would do with $100 million:
1. Get it converted into the pound stirling equivalent.
2. Have a big wank (private joke, ask Sarah).
3. Quit the Zoo
4. Buy a house with a games room, which will include (but not limited to): poker table, arcade machine, pinball table, fruit machines, pool table, dartboard, huge television and a bar.
5. Buy Colwyn Bay FC, and build my perfect 11, and lead them to the Premiership.
5 locations I would like to run away to - Temporarily, not permanently!
1. Amsterdam, if I get **too** lonely.
2. Sweden, think it's a brilliant country.
3. Magaluf. Especially if I go back in time and go on a holiday which I so should of.
4. Liverpool, Blackpool, Dahn Sahf etc. on a big road trip to see my mates.
5. New York. Just because I want breakfast in NYC once.
5 bad habits I have:
1. A bit of an exaggerator of stories.
2. Nose picker annonymous.
3. I find farts funny.
4. I'm loud.
5. I'm not the tidiest of people.
5 things I like doing:
1. Being sociable
2. Watching TV with mates, and making inappropriate comments.
3. Surfing the Internet
4. Walking (it clears my head).
5. Watching Wrestling
5 things I would never wear:
1. Thongs.
2. Speedos (though I have done in the past).
3. Anything pastel yellow.
4. Anything pink.
5. Anything that costs me more than £100 (suits excluded, as they are at least 3 items)
5 TV shows I like:
1. Takeshi's Castle.
2. Big Brother
3. WWE or TNA Wrestling
4. The Crystal Maze
5. South Park
5 Biggest joys of the moment:
1. Freedom
2. The fact that I'm losing weight.
3. Friends, when I see them.
4. The fact that my bank account is slowly going up.
5. Tiger Woods Golf: one of the best games ever made.
5 Favorite toys:
1. Internet
2. PS2
3. The little Street Fighter figures that congregate beside my bed
4. My mobile. So much trouble I get upto with it.
5. My PC, which has MAME on it.
Right, that's your lot. I'm not sure on 10 years ago, but every other one is pretty accurate. See you tomorrow!
* Unless you are certain members of the bowling club, in which case it's available for 20 Euros.
Question of the fortnight
There seems to be a general (and varied) concensous which is disturbing me. It's been eating my mind, body and soul. I thought I'd get the most general concensous possible, my 50 million readers:-
Do I look anything like Eugene from Big Brother?
I mean, it's not bad yet: nobody has come upto me in the street and said I was Eugene. However, a number (and a quite disturbing number: lets say it's more than 10) of people say that I not only bear similarities looks to Eugene (albeit slightly podgier....the pic above is old, just thought it matches the smile the most), but I also have similar mannerisms to him. For example, I was watching Big Brother tonight, and Eugene was in the living room, and he was sitting on the sofa exactly the same way I was. Same arm and leg position. I also apparently have the same "dramatic pause" (quote from Vicky) when telling anecdotes and stories, and I usually generate the tumbleweeds that Eugene gets.
So what do you think? Do I or don't I? I suppose it could be worse and look like Kinga.
*Shudder*
Bonnie Wynne
Yesterday, whilst I was at a wedding with
S (details to follow, if I can be arsed), my mum made sure the newest member of the Wynne household was well recieved.
The attractive little thing in the picture, is me. However, on my left is our new dog, a jack russell called Bonnie.
It's wierd, I've had an irrational phobia of dogs (hence the forced smile), I've been relegated to 2nd cutest member of the Wynne family (in your face, third place mum!), the little bitch has been chewing on my 3/4 length trousers, it pisses in more places than Rick after a night out, and it gets more attention than I do.
But guess what? I don't care, it's gorgeous, it's fun, it's not going to turn around and ask you for anything, it's not going to mess with your head and it's not going to complain about anything. It is going to give you the time of day, and I love it to bits.
Back Home
As the title subtly suggests, I'm back from my four day excursion to Scotland. No more shoddy Internet Cafe's which don't have
Firefox Although I promised an update yesterday, I was literally knackered, what with travelling, and seeing
S in Preston. I love her to bits, but she is an energy sucking black hole! I dunno why, but I always feel tired when I'm with her (one of the reasons we probably split up, but we won't go into the fine points ;) ). Anyway, it was cool seeing her before the wedding, and we went to Starbucks and to a random pub. The random pub had a pinball machine! How cool is that?
Firstly - the night out on Saturday. I'm not going to bore you with the details, but two Irish girls came down and sat by up, and I blame my brother why I didn't pull one of them. Although I was pissed off with him, truth be told I probably wouldn't of, as I am generally inept with women (ask S how we got together, and it'll prove it). The fact that another group of Irish girls (who were a lot less attractive, one of which smelt like a chimney, which is the biggest turn off ever) came and kept us company, and I did nothing to pull them also emphasised my ineptness.
Anyway, onto the good news: I had a really good time! The highlight of the holiday had to be Tuesday. Scotland - and particularly Edinburgh - was the hottest place in the country. A "Quality" daily newspaper run the story the only way they knew how: with a bikini photoshoot in the centre of town.
I think it was Michelle Marsh (I'm not too great with names - I only say that because a scottish dude beside me said "Aye...that's Michelle Marsh, that is". Either way, I remember feeling a bit dissappointed, as the girl was a hell of a lot shorter than I imagined. In fact, I was really dissappointed, like all your childhood dreams go up in smoke. Kind of like the feeling you have when you find out there is no Santa Claus.
Anyway, it only went on for 10 minutes, and I am still none the wiser. Anybody see this shoot, or the results of it?
As previously mentioned - yet denied by Razorhead - Haggis is gorgeous. For the unaware, it is a mixture of meat and root vegetables traditionally cooked in a sheep's stomach lining (however I think nowadays they cook it in sausage skin). I had the vegetarian haggis, which was similar, except the meat was replaced with oats, and it was really, really nice. Although I didn't eat much of it (I was sharing it with my dad). It's not served as pictured below, it's served open on a plate.
Finally, here are some pictures I took:-
Fuckstone Terrace: A road near where we stayed. By posting this, I'm removing the right to win £20 from FHM. Be fucking greatful!
My brother's horrible new polo shirt. Also included (but not seen) is a pink drawstring bag. No wonder we think he's gay!
Anyway, that's your lot for today. I'm going over to a mates house (which my mate doesn't know about that....yet) to stay before his wedding tomorrow. Should be fun, and I can drink some proper lager (Tennants - a Scottish Lager - whilst nice, goes through you like a JBL clothesline).
Bonnie Scotland
Ocheye the noo!
Yes, I'm still in Edinburgh, in an Internet Cafe, and having a pretty good time. More will follow, including some pictures, but here's what has happened this week.
- Edinburgh has the highest pub per square mile ratio of anywhere in the UK. Fact. After experiencing a few nights out in such bars, I'm inclined to agree. Scotland (but especially Edinburgh) has a more lax view on life than anywhere in England, which is definitely a good thing.
- You get two types of Scottish people. The first type is your stereotypical Scotsman: ginger hair, pale skin and a firery temper. Nobody knows why they fly off the handle so often, but I'd be pissed off if I was a ginner. These are in abundance in Scotland. The second type is the more secluded type. These you see on the nights out and having a generally good time. These people rule.
- I haven't pulled in Scotland, but that doesn't really suprise me. A lot of Scottish men have the chisseled, well defined, Mel Gibson esque features that most women drool over. This automatically put me at a disadvantage. As a double disadvantage most of the Scottish women have the chisseled, well defined, Mel Gibson esque features that most women drool over.
- There are a load of Irish birds here, and they have been known to find me attractive, especially on Saturday night, when a couple of them came over and spoke to me (more of this on the big update). However, I found out that my brother is useless at pulling......
- ....Though, I'm not much better
- Scotland at the moment is hot. Very hot. As such, the Sun have ran a photoshoot a few days ago, more on that tomorrow too :).
Haggis (the traditional scottish dish), is gorgeous. Very filling however I didn't eat the skin, it was all mushed up.- Edinburgh isn't hit as bad as some cities with global companies, and there are a lot of shops that aren't huge shops (ie. Topshop, HMV, Waterstones). One shop that does dominate is Subway, and the Smoked Scottish Salmon Six-Inch Sub - whilst being difficult to say - is gorgeous. But besides Subway, I've only seen two Starbucks, and only one of that famous Scottish restaurant - McDonalds.
Right, that's your lot for today, I will be heading back to Liverpool tomorrow, whilst making a stop to see S in Preston. I'll probably upload some of the better photos from my cameraphone tomorrow, with proper pictures to return on Sunday.
The Graduate
Before I post, I'd like to link to Diamond Geezer's post. That I feel summed up what I believe in the 'fuck you all, I'm carrying on' that us Brits have.
As you may be aware, Tuesday was my graduation from University. An early, 8-ish start meant that I had to be up even earlier than a work day, as I wanted to look my best. Tuesday was no exception, as I had a shower in the morning (something which I never do). With my Welsh tie, white shirt and dark suit, I was ready to hit the town.
I like wearing suits, I feel like king of the world wearing one, and walk feeling 10 feet tall. Unfortunately, at 10 feet tall, it's bloody hard to see where your feet are going, and by standing in a dead pidgeon wasn't the kind of thing to do. With little time to change my shoes, I decided to jump into the deepest puddle I could find whilst lifting my clean trousers up to wash off the bloody feathers.
Sure enough, it worked - and whilst references were made to my unpolished shoes - the mornings events went almost unnoticed.
I was one of the first to collect my gown, which had less form than I imagine (it had no definite arm holes, just two dangly things where the underarm should of been, I looked like Dr. Octopus from Spiderman). I waited around for my parents, but they told me they were going to be late. So I got my photo taken, and headed for the Philharmonic Hall.
The crowd was different to when I went to see Dave Gorman, and certainly different to when my mate went to see a KISS Tribute band there. A hell of a lot more formal, and people wearing these silly gowns. Also, you could see the back off the hall.
Apologies for my mum's shoddy camerawork, which is a theme throughout the pictures.
Anyway, after about an hour or so of sitting doing nothing except laughing at names in the program (included one of the honorary degrees: Sir James White Black, and somebody called Mohammed Hassan, the congregation came in, led to a piece of music which sounded similar to Mr. Perfect's theme music from the WWF, and the two hour ceremony started.
The next two hours were a bit of a blur, as the ceremony was just this guy reading out a string of names, they go up, shake hands with the Chancellor (who I've actually never seen before until today), recieve their degree, and sit down.
My time came, and - lo and behold - they pronounced my name correctly. In my three years at the department, I have been called all matters of name - with "Rice Wine" as my worst (so much so that some people jokingly call me "Sake", as in the Japanese Wine made from Rice). Not only did they get my name right, they pronounced it the Welsh way. Hell, I'm impressed, even I have trouble pronouncing my name the Welsh way.
Anyway, after the graduation, we got invited to our department for food, here are some pictures.
Me, my mum and my dad.
(l-r) Alfie, myself, Ian and Ste. Posing for pictures.
After the event (and a change of clothign) we headed to Barracuda for some more alcohol, in which I got very drunk, and ended up telling one girl "Do I look like a fucking Mafia bear". Answers on a postcard to for the origional question, in a jeopardy stylee.
So now I'm back in Colwyn Bay for a few days, after going out with Vicky for a curry, which was very nice. Anyway, guess who gave me a lift home. Only Laura! To say it was random is to say the least. She said she has given strangers a lift home before, I only wished I commanded a little more respect than that! I don't remember much of what I said, she was finishing work, I was pissed. Conversation was brief at best.
Anyway, to quote Blogjam: Bollocks to this, I'm off to Edinburgh. See you in a few days!
:(
I did have a post about graduation, but I don't feel like posting that today, as one story has dominated today.
The blasts in Central London
Although if you switch on the television to any news channel, you'll hear all about it, so I cannot really say anything, but my own personal experiences.
I'm lucky. I'm lucky I don't live near London, and I only know of one of my closest friends who lives "Dahn Sahf" (who I haven't heard from yet, but I think he's okay, as he was online for a bit this morning at around 10.), and even then it's a good 30 miles outside from London. (Edit: Just heard from him, he's been on the fucking golf course all day! Lazy bastard.)
Nevertheless I am pretty shocked. I heard reports coming through earlier on today before going to work, and assumed it was just a power surge - as they suggested. However, when I got to work, I heard the worst, that it was probably bombs.
it's been very surreal in work today. People - who should be enjoying themselves - were all stood around in the cafe listening to the 15 minutes updates from Radio 1 (a couple of the customers demanded for the radio to be turned up, even when we turned it down). There was most definitely an air of solomness in the zoo, even though we are miles away from the epicentre.
One customer struck me. He was a bus driver on one of the buses in London. He took the week off this week for a holiday in Llandudno, and said "he's very, very lucky.". He was visibly shaking, and not enjoying his day.
I suppose I over-react, but I'm a bit apprehensive going on holiday tomorrow, in Edinburgh.
Anyway, they are my thoughts at the moment, as well as those that are with the people who are injured or who have lost someone. London will continue, no doubt about it (a mate has booked a romantic weekend with his girlfriend this morning in a B&B in central london, so normality is returning). The blame will be placed, but I hope that the world will return to the same state it was in yesterday.
Graduation update tomorrow.
Graduation-Station
Tomorrow is my graduation from
Liverpool University. As
Tom McRae once sang "If they gave degrees, for cheating destiny. Then man, I've got a first.". Unfortunately, they don't. So I'll have to make do with my BSc 2:1 in Computer and Multimedia Studies. A couple of things to be note for my graduation.
Firstly, she's also getting a degree. I don't like honourary degrees, it kinda belittles the rest of us. No doubt she'll get a speech and a fucking standing ovation, whereas I'll be restricted to my "light clapping". Three years I worked for my degree! I deserve at least my own WWE style theme music*, cheers and name chanting. If you are at least going to give an honourary degree to someone, please make sure that 90% of the graduates have heard of them, like Roy Walker, or Jon from Big Brother, anybody!
If she gets a degree, then I reckon I should be made a dame.
Secondly, I'm not known as the neatest person. My handwriting is shit, and if I put a come through my hair in the morning, it's a miracle.
Tomorrow however, I'm up at the crack of dawn, all ready to look smart (though I'm not doing my hair, it'll be under a mortarboard, won't it?). I will be wearing my Welsh tie though, nothing like flying the flag, eh?
After the ceremony, which goes on for ages (I can imagine it being like the swimming galas from when you were in primary school if you couldn't swim and therefore had to race the "float" race right at the end of the gala, however I cannot imagine graduating in speedos) we've got a champagne reception in our depatment, then a unnofficial beer reception in Barracuda with myself and Ian. Some time between that point I'm planning on getting changed into my clubbing wear, which may or may not include a "Kiss me I've graduated" badge. Dunno if I'll let my parents see my house, as I don't think they'd appreciate the fine form of my Sophie Howard poster quite as much as I do.
Finally, this story drew attention to me. The reason being was that me and Guy did participate one of these auctions. We left shortly after it started, when Guy won a manicure kit (it got thrown to him). However, the advice remains the same: if it is too good to be true (and not a ticket to Edinburgh) then it probably is.
* Incidentally, if I did have my own WWE style theme music, it would be "I Can Climb Mountains" by Hell is for Heroes.
Public Transport? Expensive?
Today, I've been really, really good.
As you may be aware, in just over a week, I will be heading upto Scotland for a holiday. Whilst that does mean I'll be travelling through shitholes like Carlisle and Preston, it does mean that I will be spending my first ever week in Edinburgh (and indeed Scotland), on my first holiday for two years. It should be all plain sailing, right?
Wrong.
Due to me being a bit of a prick, and not realising my dates, I realised that I had screwed up my plans. Whilst avoiding my graduation ceremony by days, my impending return from Edinburgh would co-incide with a friend's wedding, which I said I would go to.
After a couple of hours of bellyaching, I realised that it was my mess, and I had to sort it out. So I decided to cut my holiday short by one day, and get down to Liverpool by any means necessary. Which, in this case, is a train.
I had quickly surfed the internet before and saw that if I was inflexible (which I usually am), the journey would cost me £46.
However, a more thorough search leaded in me booking this ticket.
TWELVE FUCKING QUID TO GET FROM FUCKING EDINBURGH TO FUCKING LIVERPOOL!
Ahem.
Needless to say, I bought it, before the computer decided to change it's mind. Twelve pounds to travel 230 miles - just over 5p a mile. A saving of a whopping £34. Needless to say, I am currently walking with a big spring in my step, now that I've got just that little extra bit of money to spend on holiday. Nobody can say to me now public transport is expensive. If they do, then thay are a Lenny Liar.
To travel from Colwyn Bay to Liverpool would cost a little over £10, and that's a journey of less than 100 miles. Why is it so cheap? Question is, do I really care?
Money was also saved when I was outbid with minutes to go on this auction. The bid was done drunk, and - after ressurrecting my old GBA (the un-SP version) - I decided I don't really need one, as I don't have time to play it.
Finally, I did watch Live8 yesterday, if that makes me a hypocrite, then so be it.
Highly Trained, Highly Accurate, Haile Selassie
Today, is one of those days that will make history. Today is one of those days that you will tell your grandchildren about, that today - today - the world stood still for one event, that brought good to the planet as a whole.
Live8? Fuck that. Some fucker won Takeshi's Castle!
For the unitiated, Takeshi's Castle is a Japanese gameshow where 100 contestants under the tutelage of the ladies favourite General Lee try and storm the castle of count takeshi's. The 100 are whittled down to about 4 or 5 after some really funny games, which usually results in comedy/painful exits. The remaining 5 or so try and storm the castle by penetrating a paper ring on the Takeshi-Mobile (using a water pistol) whilst trying to protect your ring from penetration on you vehicle. The emerald guard and count takeshi with their more powerful water pistols do their best.
Hardly anybody wins the game (so much so that I'm unsure what the prize is), and today was the first time I saw a winner. Couldn't tell you their names, as Craig Charles (Lister from Red Dwarf) provides commentary over the event. But there was a definite winner.
I have now finished work for two weeks (bar next Thursday), I've had the last 7 days in, and I am due a rest (slept in today until around half 10, which is unusual, as I'm usually up and about at around 8ish). Nevertheless, it has been fun, with the birth of the BNI Index, the fact that we have to do no more mopping due to the appointment of specialized cleaning staff (who could do a better job than us anyway) and the increased idolization of both Cillit Bang, and Sheriff John Bunnell. Nevertheless, I needed the two weeks off, what with graduation and Edinburgh and a wedding and all. But most of all, I'll be glued to Takeshi's!
