Famous for 15 Minutes
As Andy Warhol said, "Everybody's famous for 15 minutes", hope mine wasn't today, as it was disrupted by my mum. Eager that she heard her first born on the radio, she rang me as soon as my part was finished, and it switched to talking about
University Of Glamorgan weblog.....
"RHYS! CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WERE ON THE RADIO! WELL DONE!"
"Errr...thanks mum, but I'm still on the radio."
"Thought your piece was finished?"
"Nope....there was a little bit at the close of the show. It's known as sandwiching, did it all the time for the media part of my degree. Start with A, move onto B, maybe a C, but then come back to A to finish."
"Oops, sorry."
Bless her.
Today was my little piece on Mousemat, I was really kind of unsure of what to expect, as the interview itself offered little clues (whether it was a feature on blogging or a new regular feature about a specific blog). Four a clock came, and the show began.
Do I really sound like that? I know nobody (with the possible exception of Luciano Pavarotti) likes the sound of their own voices....but I never realised how lispy and nasally I sounded. My brother had the (unfair) reputation of sounding like somebody shoved a sock up his nose, but I sound like it too.
Apart from that, the piece went well. I feel I came across a little egotistical (which I suppose is expected, as I was talking about my own personal website), and they didn't mention the fact that my mum found out about both A and Sarah through this blog. However just the fact that I've been on the radio has meant something to me, and came across generally pretty well.
Personally, whilst I know nothing major will come from it (no chance on being on Celebrity Big Brother next year or anything, which one of my mates will think), but it was fun diversion for me. I've got it on MP3, and my mum has it on tape. I've also printed out the website and put it into my "Big Red Book" - a book, that's blue, which I've had since Sixth Form, which contains cards, personal messages, and that rare bank statement I have where my account doesn't have a huge minus before it. It's nice to think that people from all over Wales (which, I believe there are not enough bloggers....there probably are, but I haven't found them) were listening to me. Probably not hanging on to every word I say, but listening nonetheless.
If you have come here from Mousemat....welcome! You may be able to help me find Double Chocolate Bars, y'know, as repayment for edutaining your Sunday afternoon.
If you are a regular reader, and haven't heard the show, it's repeated on Wednesday night at 6pm on the usual channels, or - failing that - you can click here to hear it for about the next week or so (I'm around 10 minutes in).
The Treble
Today I completed a treble of domestic cups that I've held. Basically, for the unaware (largely American) audience, there are 3 major domestic cups contested in the English football leagues: The
Premiership,
The FA Cup and
The Carling Cup.
I had previously held the Premiership trophy at a "Manchester United Day", held at that area of great local support of Manchester United, Boddlewyddan Castle. It was at the height of Man U's success (which, coincidentally, was the height of my support of them), and I was eager to meet the "Superstars of the greatest football team in the world". It turned out to be Denis Irwin and Andrei Kanchelskis. I was hoping for Ryan Giggs, but beggars can't be choosers. It was the season that Man U won the Premiership, so they had it on display, and you could hold it. I did, and got the photo (somewhere). It was when I was around 10-ish, so I had huge buffon esque hair, and probably not going to put the picture up.
The FA Cup I've held twice: Once was the old FA Cup in Geordies Garage in Llandudno (don't ask me why they had it), the second time was sometime last year, when it was in Liverpool. Both relatively uneventful, but it's notches on the bedpost. The first time obviously was impressive (though it was an old FA Cup, not the one currently in circulation), but the second time (whilst it was the FA Cup), just didn't seem as impressive.
The Carling/Worthingtons/Coca-Cola/Rumbelows/Milk/League Cup - for some reason - was in Liverpool (the only time it will be this season.....mwhah). Guy let me know it was in the University bar. After much persuasion, threatening and even bribing of Guy (he has a bad throat, I have Strepsils....make of it what you will), I found out he wasn't interested, having just seen it himself. So I took Mike with me instead.
Look at that! I've completed the domestic treble. In your face Mourinho!
One thing I did notice was the distinct lack of security surrounding the cup. The FA Cup and the Premiership had about 3 or 4 bodyguards surrounding the cup, and you had to stay a designated distance away from it, and you weren't actually allowed to hold it too high. The Carling Cup (know as "The Worthless Cup" during it's time when sponsored by Worthingtons) however had one security guard, who looked like he didn't want to be there, and you could just almost walk out with it.
Still, it provided a talking point for here.
On The Air. Unaware.
Today I took an extended lunch break to record the interview for
Mousemat. I had spent the quiet times in the call centre swatting up on my blogging knowledge, to hopefully avoid getting caught out. I went to the pub at lunchtime for a couple of calming pints of coke, and headed for the interview.
First thing I noticed about the BBC Merseyside studios were the size, they were tiny. Of course, never been in a radio studio before I had no idea what one looks like, I suppose I couldn't pass judgement, nevertheless I expected bigger. I sat down, and prepared for the interview, and we were underway.
It was then I made my first mistake. One thing I've learnt in my time at the call centre (besides the Phonetic Alphabet) is how to talk down the phone. Now, as part of a habitual comfort when on the phone, I hunch over and bang my knuckles on the table. Of course, on the phone, the headset doesn't pick it up. Unfortunately, a hugely powerful (and expensive) microphone designed for a major radio station does pick it up, and a few minutes of the recording has me gently knocking. No doubt it'll get edited out before it airs, but nevertheless, it was teething trouble.
The interview went pretty well after that (which, for me, with no formal media training, is a suprise). There were no questions I couldn't answer (though the question about my mum finding out about my girlfirends via this blog did take me by suprise), and I felt I came across as a nice guy, if slightly arrogent. I didn't mention a few things such as blogging being theraputic, which was annoying, and also I think I suffered from the Wynne family trait of having a voice completely lacking in emotion (as well as the scream of "Christ, do I really sound like that?".
I think the best thing about the whole experience was that I felt wanted. For the first time in my life I felt like people wanted my opinion, and actually they would (to some degree) fit around me to get it! That's never happened before. To go back to the call centre, which - don't get me wrong - is a nice job, was a bit of a let down. Come broadcast date, it's kind of reassuring to know that there will be 5-10 minutes of Radio Wales about me.
Sorry, becoming a bit big-headed with it all. I won't turn into some Diana Ross-esque diva and demand a Ferret Milk Bath or anything, I promise.
I recieved an e-mail from Nan explaining the airdate of the piece. Basically, it will be on BBC Radio Wales at around 4pm this Sunday (GMT). However, I think the show will be able for a week after broadcasting to listen to online. To recieve it, you need one of the following:-
There, you have no excuse not to listen to me!
Mum's doing a recording on tape, and I'm going to try and get an MP3 of it (though would appreciate if somebody could tell me how, or do it themselves), just of my bit though, and just to keep for the grandchildren.
A.....please ignore that last statement.
Perfect Face For Radio
My job at the moment is a bit mundane. Sure, it's fun, but nothing really blogworthy. Due to the Data Protection act, I cannot really give juicy details. What I can say is a very interesting un-work related development that occurred today.
On MSN mid-afternoon I spoke to my mum, and basically she said that a lady by the name of Nan Pickering, from Radio Wales had been in touch, and want me to contact them.
I got in touch with Nan, who explained to me that they want to feature me on a weekly program they do on the station, Mousemat.
They want me to talk about my blog, and why I blog, and why people read blogs. Just general chitchat about blogging really, don't hugely know what to expect. I've been asked to prepare a selection of 3 or 4 sentences from posts on this blog that I can use (which sounds easy, but trying to find 3 sentences that don't include swearing and are interesting is bloody hard). On top of this, I have spent a good few hours swotting up this evening, just so I'm not caught out. Not that I know I won't (it's a radio show, not a exam), but I feel I should do some preperation.
Anyway, the interview is in the studios of BBC Radio Merseyside, with it being pre-recorded and edited for the show (I have no idea when the show is, but I'll let you know tomorrow). Needless to say, I am very excited. So's my mum, who is gushing with typical maternal pride.
As I said, I will let you all know how I got on tomorrow, and when and where you can listen to it.
In other news: They don't sell them in Tesco Metro in town.
20/10/05
A rare moment of brilliance occurred today in work, when I looked at the date, and said "oooh, each number in the date is half the previous one!". I then proceeded to work out the previous one (16th August 2004), when the next one will be (Christmas Eve next year) and then told the
bowlers .
Kept me occupied for about 3 minutes.
Anyway, the real reason for this post is development in the chocolate stakes. Yesterday, I sent an email to Nestle enquiring about the chocolate bars:-
"Dear Sir/Madam,
I am writing to you enquiring about the production of Nestle's Double Chocolate Bars.
In the past 6 months I have noticed that these chocolate bars are very difficult to find.
I am writing to you to find out if these bars have been discontinued, and if not, where I can get them.
Your help would be most appreciated.
Yours Faithfully.
Rhys Wynne"
To be honest, I've never written an email enquiring about a chocolate bar before, and not sure how to word it. It's not like a CV or covering letters, where there's tons of resources on these things, there's none on "Enquiring with a multi-national confectioner on the wherabouts of a product". However, with the lack of such guide, I think I did pretty well.
Anyway, they must of took my query seriously, as I got a large, lengthy and disgustingly thorough reply today.
"Dear Mr Wynne
Thank you for your recent enquiry via email concerning Nestle Double Chocolate.
We were very sorry to hear of your problems obtaining this product. Unfortunately it is very difficult to provide details of shops stocking our products because only the retailers themselves have this information. For example, although we do supply most of the big supermarket and store chains, goods are often delivered to a central warehouse and it is the retailers who decide which branches are to receive the products. Similarly, many smaller shops tend to buy their stocks from wholesalers or Cash & Carry outlets.
The majority of our products are in full national distribution and if you ask one of the larger supermarkets or at stores such as Woolworths, they may be able to tell you of the nearest branch stocking this particular line. Alternatively, it may be worth asking at a smaller shop where a friendly retailer may be able to help you by ordering an outer (the retail pack) of Nestle Double Chocolate for you when he visits his local Cash & Carry.
One point worth considering is that demand for products can vary from month to month and it may be possible that the most popular lines may sometimes have simply sold out.
Thank you for taking the trouble to write to us, we sincerely hope that you will be successful in obtaining Nestle Double Chocolate in the future.
Kind regards,
Karen Short
Consumer Services
Nestle UK Ltd"
So, even if it's slightly patronising (hell, I've worked in customer services before now, we have a good giggle at people with stupid questions such as this, so I understand) reply, it basically is good news: the chocolate is still being made, and sold. Now it's your turn.
I'm going to look in my Tesco: Local store in town tomorrow, and hopefully that will come up trumps. If you live in the Liverpool area, and do find them on your travels (note: not the Double Cream, which is in blue packaging. I want the Double Chocolate, which is in brown), please let me know. The advice is to check big supermarkets, please do next time you're on your weekly shop. Thank you.
Anaesthetic
"You make it better."
"You make that weather seem okay"
"You're my Anaesthetic"
"You just take the pain away"
- Feeder: "Anaesthetic"
Today is "her" 1-month anniversary of the start of my relationship with A. Typical of our relationship, we cannot decide on anything, least of all anniversary dates. So we have 2 anniversaries, with mine being last Saturday. I'm sure it's a ploy to try and get two anniversary meals/nights out/nights in out of me, but I'm really not complaining.
I've been struggling to write this blog for a few weeks, hence why I'm doing it now, whilst I'm half pissed.
We met in the Krazyhouse in Liverpool. I'd love to say our eyes met, and we were just lost, but it wasn't. Her first words to me were "Stay there, I'm going for a wee", and we kind of fumbled of our way to a kiss.
We left that night - but I demanded her phone number. A few days later we agreed to meet, things hit off, and the rest is history.
The reason why I'm quoting "Anaesthetic" was because late last week, when I was legitimately ill, A came online. I know it sounds wierd, but although I only spoke to her briefly, I began to feel better. Just speaking to her brought a broad smile to my face, and work (as I was in work at the time) seemed to fly by.
Anyways that all I kind of want to post about her at the moment. My relationship is going fine. Now leave me alone on MSN!
It's like an orgy in my mouth, and everybody's invited
This is the nicest chocolate bar ever invented, Double Chocolate, as the Nestle website says: -
"Pieces of pure roasted cocoa encased in creamy milk chocolate. The same chocolate which is used on the Double Cream Bar but with added Coco Nib pieces, which are darker in colour."
Anyway, it's sex in bar form. I first tried it when I nicked a bar from work one day (okay, bang goes my chances of getting into heaven. Stupid 4th commandment). Anyway, this blog is not for entertainment purposes, something more sinister.
Basically, as far as I'm aware, these chocolate bars are very difficult to get hold of, and I haven't seen one for sale since they were in Home Bargains at 10p each (needless to say, I stockpiled) in May. Now I've ran out. Should anybody on their travels see double chocolate (not double cream, or double berry, which are bountiful) please drop me an email, as I would like to talk business.....
Ignorance is bliss......
I always thought I was shallower than the kiddy's pool in Oompah Loompah land. I
try being deep, philosophical and other enigmatic words that people who go to university for 3 years may describe themselves. Not me. University in that respect is the same, as I was shallow when I went in, and I am shallow as I left. I always thought my simple love for breasts, beer and big brother would remain forever, I would forever read tabloid "news" papers, and would never admit to any of these. Not that I would bullshit my way through MacBeth past Act 1, Scene 1 (which I can recite*), just that I would employ don't ask, don't tell philosophy.
But this weekend, my shallow self has something to be proud of.
Here's the story I've told people. Basically, as I've previously said, I work in the same building as the Passport Service. Everybody needs a passport. Me, you, politicians.
Even celebrities.
I was walking to work one day, and I noticed a few camera's accross the street poised accross the way. All of a sudden they started snapping. A woman rushed out of the passport office, brushed past me and into an awaiting cab.
Using my shallow memory, I immediately thought "Fuck me! That's Kerry Katona! That bird who shagged that one from Westlife, slept in a jungle and whored herself out to Iceland". Happy I've met a Z-List celebrity, I told anyone and everyone who wished to hear.
And that's the story I told my mates. This is what really happened.
Everything happened up until that last bit. Basically, I thought nothing of it (though it was rude), but one of my work mates saw the whole incident, and caught upto me.
WM: You see who that was?
R: No?
WM: That was Kerry Katona! That bird who shagged that one from Westlife, slept in a jungle and whored herself out to Iceland!
R: ..........who?
I impressed myself of my lack of shallowlility. I wonder if those pictures with me walking past somebody I've never heard of will make it into one of those celebrity mags. With the caption of "Kerry Katona gets a hole stared into her by some random person after pushing past him whilst leaving the passport office in Liverpool."
Better yet: "Rhys Wynne, blogger extra-ordinaire, gives a random person nobody's heard of a visual smackdown after he was nearly knocked to the floor by her...."
* When shall we three meet again, In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
When the hurlyburly's done, When the battle's lost and won.
That will be ere the set of sun.
Where the place?
Upon the heath.
There to meet with Macbeth.
Not-So-Rampant Rabbits
I was going to talk about the new girlfriend in this post, but I've decided on a major news story in the world today.
Youth feeds zoo rabbit to 'gator
Yes, once again my old employment has hit the levels of national news (apparently appearing on Radio 1, no less) with a story about one of the rabbits in the Children's Farm, being fed to a alligator, by a bunch of chavs.
Don't know really what to say about it really. It's pretty grusome, I understand. But the funniest thing is The Zoo's Director complete over-reaction to the situation (apparently quoted as saying "I'll be having trouble sleeping tonight"), turns what is a minor tragedy, and highlighing the further social decline of todays youth, into a story that's actually quite amusing.
I mean, the Zoo does have problems. Namely security. It's so easy to break in. Apparently, the youths (quoted on another article) "Climbed the wall of the zoo without paying". Truth be told, you probably could walk in the back entrance of the zoo and nobody bat an eyelid, it's not exactly Fort Knox. Lord knows I've done it before now (though it was to collect wages etc.).
The problem with the zoo is that it's still living in the 1970's. By god the people who work on a day to day basis work bloody hard keeping the place running. But, and I know that "A poor workman always blames his tools", that place is falling apart at the seams, and it's only a matter of time when somebody or another animal gets seriously injured, what with people breaking in at all hours to trash the place. Don't believe me? We've had another break in over the summer.
It's a vicious cycle of "Zoo loses money, zoo cuts security, animal dies, zoo adds security", and the Zoo Director will probably have a "As heard on Radio 1" banner up tomorrow. But until somebody erects a 40 meter electrified fence around the place (or hires a couple of security guard for the night, either way it's good), that cycle is going to continue.
Lead me not into temptation. I can get there fine by myself.
I think the world is against me.
I thank everybody for all the motivational messages regarding my self-imposed "sober binge". Unfortunately, it amounted to diddily-squat, as only 1 day in, after a busy friday (which included a Scottish lady ringing at around 4:55, and was on the phone for 20 minutes), I had a pint of lager.
Of course, I largely blame myself (for boasting about my lack of alcohol at every concievable opportunity) and my workmates (who wanted to prove my integrity by buying me alcohol). Nevertheless, I used warped logic as "I don't binge drink. Binge drinking is defined as 4 pints in one sitting. I need to stand up to go to the bar at least 3 times". Me, being the honest type, decided to text my fellow sober bingers, to explain my wrongdoing. The accepted, and said that "I can start again tomorrow", right?
Wrong.
You see, I went to Chester to see my lovely girlfriend (who now knows about this blog, and will get a write up, scouts honour*). Amongst cooking a meal, watching Wayne's World, and doing other couply antics, we went to Chester's Student Union. Again, my sober-dodging logic kicked in with the statement "Student Union beer is practically water, so therefore shouldn't be inlcuded in the sober binge". So, whilst nobody actually bought me a drink like the night before, I thought - as I was in new people company - it'd be rude not to.
Start again on Sunday? Yes! Well...kinda. Unfortunately, karma had it in for me, and we won a crate of beer at the quiz. We, being my team, and three members of the 7-strong "Barry Scott and the Cillit Bangers" are trying to curb drinking. The beer is still intact, but I'm waning.
That, and Sarah's birthday today, meant last night was messy. I'm starting again from......now.
People have told me what a stupid idea it is, and I'm beginning to believe them. I mean, I'm at my most creative when hammered. Here's some classics that I can remember:-
- Alcolapped: Drinking so fast that you end up over 1 pint ahead of your drinking partner.
- Wynne's Law Of Internet Communication: The excitement you get to speaking to strangers on the internet is inversely proportional to the distance you are away from them (i.e. you're more excited to speak to a stranger who lives on the end of your street than a stranger who lives in Mongolia, for example).
- Handy Texting: The fact that both 'shot' and 'pint' are the same on predictive texts.
So, maybe I won't give up the beer. My liver may just have to be creative too, creative in waste disposal.
We shall see.
SuperSober Me
A few days ago I went out, this is becoming far less common now that I'm working, but meh, thought it would be fun. Anyway, I got
hammered over the course of not a long time. So, myself and my housemates have decided the unthinkable.
We're giving up alcohol for 1 whole month.
Over time, this blog will chart the successes and failures of trying to give up the booze for 1 month. It's fair to say that my liver has taken a hell of a pounding from the amber nectar the past 3 years, and - now that I'm earning - the liver will take even more. So, I'm now making a concentrated effort not to drink for a month.
How hard can it be? I mean, my brother gave up alcohol for lent, and that was in his first year (the reason was that he got thrown out - literally - of a club one night after passing out on the dance floor, oooh the secret's out!), and he survived.
Luckily I'm not doing it alone, I've got two of my housemates to watch over me, Guy and Tom. Both of them will also be giving up beer for a month, with the end coming with a huge bender on bonfire night. Readers may remember it was Guy who joined me on my "Feed Me Till I Want No More" Take Away Fast For Lent. Now, it's the big dog. Alcohol.
It does mean that I'm not drinking when Sarah comes down for her birthday, I'm sure she'll live.
I Dunno What To Do, I'm Always In The Dark.....
Today, there was a
partial solar eclipse across most of Britain and Europe. At best, the UK had 60% of coverage (Spain had an impressive 98%) and nothing really was noticable. It didn't even go dark (though I was in a very bright office, where artificial light was giving me a headache), and due to the heavy cloud cover, there was fuck all chance of seeing it in Liverpool. As such, I shall talk about the one in
1999.
Solar Eclipses are unbelievably surreal, and should you get to experience one, do so. We were lucky, as we weren't guarenteed totality, and were not aware, so we didn't get any of those stupid glasses you see everywhere shilling before an event such as this. Nevertheless, there was very thin cloud, which shielded out much of the sunlight, which meant - with a bit of bravery - we could look at the sun safely (though I cannot be held responsible should you try this method and blind yourself, it's dumb, I was young and foolish. Best look through a polaroid).
The other thing you notice is the small things, the way the birds make a hell of a lot of noise. The way animals looked confused. The way the lights all switch on. It's like in a film, when something bad's going to happen. But nothing does. Should you ever get the chance to see one, do so, and take pictures. Psychologically, it doesn't seem dark, but I've pictures taken at midday, and it's pitch black.
Which, all in all, made today's no show very dissappointing.
The Only Thing That Rhymes with Australia, is Failure!
Not wanting to turn this blog into a Jerry Springer-esque rant, but one of the things
Sarah couldn't stand about me is my distinct lack of spontineuity. Apart from the
kiddies party and the odd game of "Landing Cricket" last year, spontaneous moments were few and far between.
Until this year.
We got a new housemate this year, who has become a catalyst for all things random. In the past week we have done some random stuff including, but not limited too:-
Decorated each room in the house with a welcome message from Brian Blessed (that's the one on my door)....
Made Skittles Vodka. Which was not very nice.
We have also had some of the most random conversations. Such mysteries as "Where are the 1000 Islands that make up 1000 Island Dressing?" have been discussed. Hours have been spent down the pub discussing situations like this. The Athelete Kings Tournament has seen a revival from last year, and all sorts of wonderful things like that. So much so that when 5 o'clock comes, I'm REALLY looking forward to getting home, as I know some crazy madcap scheme will occur.
