Death of the Demo
With the almost infinite ways in which PC's can be
customised, it's very difficult buying computer games. I find games that should struggle with my machine run adiquately and games that should run that don't. In the past, I have used demos or trial versions to try and see if they run on my PC. Usually these have not only seen whether I can run the game or not, but also because they used to offer a large sample of the game, but now it's not the case.
When I started playing PC games, the demos were huge. Games like Quake, Commander Keen and Duke Nukem had massive demos - with between a thrid and a quarter of the game given away for free. Admittedly, whilst they were in the shops, they were shareware (sure the long time gamers amongst us remember the rudimentary DOS screens displayed as you returned to the command prompt following the games - one of my favourites was the quote when you exited the registered version of Quake "Congratulations! You are probably not a theif"). However, many of the games of that era had humongous demos, such as Carmageddon (which also had a crack available for it, so that you could play as any car in the demo), Grand Theft Auto, Championship Manager and POD.
Nowadays, it is not the case. First of all, there are tons of games without demos. I dunno, maybe I'm not looking in the right place, but it seems to be the case. Almost every game had a demo of some description in the mid 90's. 10 years later there are very few. I used to get pissed off that I only got 3 holes on PGA Tour Golf, now I'm lucky to get two.
I'm probably looking in the wrong place online however, and all this winging is for nowt. I suppose if anybody has any websites with PC game demos on? Especially Civilization IV and Pirates! (as in the Sid Meier game), as I'd like those please.
Spending A Penny.....
Saturday was
Buy Nothing Day. In a two finger salute to those who insist on thrusting Christmas on us in August, Buy Nothing Day works by - suprise suprise - not buying anything for 24 hours. Unfortunately, as Alyson lives in Chester and I am a pathetic alcoholic, the fact I had to buy essentials such as train ticket and beer meant that the chance of me not spending any money was slim at best.
Fast forward to yesterday when - only half way through the day - I realised that I hadn't spent a penny. If I could walk home from work and abuse the free hot chocolate machine at work and not be roped into a visit to the casino, maybe, just maybe I can achieve something I haven't achieved in about three years, a day whereby I don't spend a penny.
Lo and behold, I did it.
I spend money on everything, books, food, bus fare, and so on. By actually walking to work and home I saved myself £1.80, and god knows what else. I played Bullseye DVD Game
(which is rubbish by the way) instead of going to the pub.
And I had a healthy tea.
It would be interesting to see just how much money I spend a week or month just on things such as buses, beer and tasty snacks, and how that compares with other people. I'm not sure if it is blogworthy just saying "I didn't spend a penny yesterday", but - as this is my blog - I felt the need to tell you all.
Don't you feel special?
EDIT: Unfortunately, this post means diddily squat as I did spend the bank-breaking figure of 40p listing some items on ebay. So help me make back the 40p by seeing if you would like any of these items for Christmas. Bid high, bid hard, bid often!
Girl, I wanna take you to a gay bar.......
Happy Monday everybody! This weekend was spent in Chester, with the lovely Alyson. She was chuffed that I gave her a present (a
Krazyhouse pin badge, obtained from the Kray the night before, when it was
Will's birthday), and - in a break from the normal "curl up in front of a movie" Saturday night, we hit the town for a little while.
We started off by playing pool in the Chester SU bar (which, to be honest, is nothing like the one in Hollyoaks), and went to a few other bars. Much joy was had.
The funniest thing came after leaving the last bar - Alyson suddenly decided she needed the loo. As we were heading towards the takeaway, we thought "hmm...there should be a bar open, what with the new licencing laws and all"
We found a bar for which to use the restroom facilites. "Are you still open?" we said to the bouncer. He stood, looking at us, then said "You two don't look like you cause any trouble.", and then we walked in.
I've walked past that pub numerous times since I've started seeing Alyson in Chester, and I've always liked the look of it. It looks very homely, a proper old man's style pub, with log fire, old fruit machines and Sky Sports. So, what harm could it do?
Walked in, we got a realisation though. There were men. Lots of men. All dancing with the style and penache not usually associated with our gender. There was a DJ too, with hair that looked like he was from Dragonball Z. He was playing Vengaboys.
Alyson after looking around briefly headed for the nearest loos (which were unisex), I waited around outside, I would of had a drink, but the bar was choca. Instead I surveyed my surroundings. It was almost exclusively men, with a few women located in another room, and they kept themselves separate, like it was my 1995 Ysgol Pen-Y-Bryn school disco all over again. Alyson came out of the toilet, and we made our exit, passing a couple of men on a couch, who looked at us funny for holding hands. The bouncer, who was pretty big, greeted us with the phrase "oooh that was a quick one, wasn't it?", referring to the 'drink' we were supposed to have had. We turned and headed home, then - almost simultaneously - we questioned each other....
"That was a gay pub, wasn't it?"
Easily Persuaded
"Rhys!", Guy exclaimed, "There's a new casino in town! Fancy going?"
Like the poor, easily-persuaded son of a gun that I am, I accepted.
On the first day of the new licencing laws, we instead decided to take advantage of the old gambling laws, and headed to the Grosvenor Casino in Liverpool.
Previously my only experience of a casino has been the one hidden away in town, which any drunken rabble can go to on a night out and spend a load of money. I've never hugely liked it, as it was dark, underground and messy (now even more so, as it's undergoing a refit at the moment).
Once we registered on the system by a guy called Norman (which took FOREVER, he would be the type of person which would benefit when I rule the world), who insisted on calling me "Mr. Wayne". No relation to John or Bruce. It's a new one, I tell you.
Once we finally entered the casino, I immediately changed my cash to chips and sat down for some blackjack.
Something was a little odd about this casino. It actually felt like a casino. With the exception of Norman on the desk, everybody else was quite chatty, which made us feel like James Bond in Monte Carlo, instead of two students and an ex student with no sense.
The dealer, who sounded like he came to this country after the fall of communism, seemed to enjoy our presence at his table, largely due to me, Guy and Zandr laughing, joking and generally making tits of ourself. Imploring people on our table to "take one for the team", using the word "checkmate" for blackjack and innuendo's such as "I could use a BJ around about now", entwined with laughter and saying "Hit Me Baby One More Time" when we wanted a card.
Of course, if you're my mother or Alyson, you're probably more worried about how much money I spent. Well, below you'll see a picture, which I got back, and then changed into chips.
Yay! A £25 chip! I also had two £5 chips and two £2 chips! Barry Bolshevic (not his name) wanted to give me five £5 chips (I had a stack of 27 £1 chips at one point, as I sticked - by and large - to minimum bet blackjack), I told my sob story of never having held a denomination chip above £5, so I wanted to hold one legitmately for a few minutes. Touched by my moving account, he gave me a £25 chip. I was chuffed to bits.
I was still £3 down for the night (got back £37 from the £40 I went out with), but still chuffed to bits.
Two Kewl Too Spel
I've become a bit of a spelling and grammar nazi. I'm guilty of most english language crimes myself, and whilst my grasp on the language is not as thorough as some, I do believe that my grasp is a lot better than some.
Take Rick, the older of my two younger brothers. He's currently excelling himself at maths in Nottingham University. I've never known a brain like his, who eats, breaths, and sleeps maths. He's got books full of numbers and number theory. Is mental arithmatic is amazing, and can grasp concepts on second order differentials a hell of a lot better than I can (the bane of my A-Level maths was 2nd order differentials).
He also cannot spell the word "pretty", spelling it with an "i" instead of an "e".
I'm sorry, but even if it is an MSN chat, that's 'pritty' inexcusable. Much mocking was done by me, he said "he's a maths brain", I continue mocking. It's the relationship we share.
If my brother has trouble grasping even basic spelling, that's fair enough. When a corporation does it, and it affects us, then that's bad.
Enter itbox, a company that manufactures quiz machines for pubs. One of the most popular games is based on the classic "Hangman", with questions answered. Last night, the clue was "Popular Australian Soaps.". The answer, no word of a lie, was 'Nighbours'.
We luckily managed to work it out so even Mr. Itbox's shoddy spelling meant that we still won the princely sum of £1. However I was a bit miffed, and - if it wasn't for the fact that we've been busy today - I would of written a very angry email regarding the situation.
Linked to this, I spoke to Amazon recently to sort out and order, and they sent me back a generic response:-
I always thought it was spelt "enquiry"? Can anybody confirm one way or another?
The Nation's Biggest Lock In.....
In a few hours time, the licencing laws will change so that pubs can stay open longer. They would have to apply for a licence that will be individually reviewed, but out of the quarter of a million pubs in this country, 60000 will get later licence, with around 359 opening for 24 hours a day.
In Liverpool, I cannot see where it'll make a huge difference except for the fact that Weatherspoons will be open for another hour or so. Most pubs in Liverpool already stay open to around 1 (well, the ones that I go to, anyway), and the Kray has been doing "all nighters" for years. Most people in my mind (myself included) don't have the stamina to drink constantly for 24 hours. So, as far as Liverpool is concerned, I can see no change.
In fact, we used to do something in the second year where we split into two nights out. Those of us who wanted to go to a club did so, and those of us who would rather play pool in Kiss The Red (now sadly shut) until 2am did so, and we met up at the end of the night for takeaway goodness.
Back home in North Wales, and the change is a lot more substansial. Where I live there are a handful of pubs, and about two or three clubs. Two of those clubs are effectively no-go areas, so that leaves the pubs and the clubs for a night out. At chucking out time, everybody heads to Broadway, where they pay £6, and listen to "music" which can induce a brain hemmorage, get pushed around by a pinball and, if you get lucky, declare your undying love for somebody you met three hours ago and head out for a quickie on Llandudno Promenade, by the kiddies paddling pool.
Now, hopefully, there'll be a change. If even one pub stays open later, that means people such as ourselves who "don't appreciate the joys of jungle-trance-hardcore" the can stay in the confindes of our the previous establishment, play pool, throw some darts, or do that lost art of socialising - talk.
It does drive me nuts that the only way for me to continue drinking after 11pm is by either paying for entry into a club, getting charged for overprice beer, or drinking at home. At times I look at my mate Sibz when we're in Broadway and we both say the same thing - "what the hell are we doing here?". With later opening hours, both me and Sibley (and probably a few others who have the dancing skills of a drowning spider) can stay in the pub, have a few more beers, and stumble home at some ungodly hour like the dance music tolerant amongst us.
Of course, it does mean that I'll have "a few more beers", but of all the time I've been drunk, I've only been sick in a club once (which I regret so bad), and that unfortunate time of waking up in Chester. Of course, not everybody is as good a drunk as me, and violence will occur. Only time will tell if this increase in licencing laws is a good thing.
But, just like a drunken "Lets jump into the sea!" call at 2am in January, I can see no wrong.
I Will Not Fix Your Computer
I know a lot about computers. Hell, I've got a degree in it, and I feel that - although I'm not getting paid yet by the IT industry - I should use my skills to help others.
For example, over the weekend I went to see the lovely A, who has no end of trouble with her PC. Although I didn't do a huge amount, I did clear off some useless software (why do computer people insist on using PC-Cilin?), install some better software (though I did uncharacteristically stop short of installing Firefox), and set it up so she can listen to Yahoo! Launch. All relatively simple tasks for people like me, but for poor Alyson (who readily admits she's a technophobe), it's all relatively scary.
More importantly, she was very appreciative.
I also don't mind if someone comes to me for an opinion. For example, Ally emailed me about that fan I installed. It's nice to feel wanted, and feel that my knowledge is useful, it's a bit of an ego boost (on a similar, yet unrelated note, I had an email from a language professor from a University in Seattle a few months back, asking me about the Welsh language and how I pronounce my name...I felt so educated then).
What I do hate though is people who come around with their pc/laptop, drop it on my lap the second I walk in from work, and expect me to fix their laptop (that has happened before). Some of these people then get a hissy-fit should I admit defeat (which, when I'm tired, I do so bloody quickly), and question the value of my degree. Which is ridiculous, it'd be like asking a GP to perform surgery, or a electrical engineer to build a boat.
For those who are reading this and know me, contemplating asking me a question, I'll just say I'm generally as a rule of thumb rubbish at networking queries, okay at hardware problems and pretty good at software issues. That being said, if I cannot answer you're question, 90% of the time it's not that I'm trying to get rid of you, and I genuinely don't know the answer. If you ask me between the hours of 5 and 7, and after midnight, you'd more than likely be in the 10%. Thank you.
If I ruled the world (and here's hoping), I'd instigate some sort of PC Users licence, and make it illegal to use one without it. It'd be relatively easy to pass, with a theory (with questions such as "What do you do when a guy from Nigeria who promises you $100 Million wants your bank details?") and a practical which teaches general PC maintenance.
I think that's why people are so scared of PC's though, is lack of confidence. Before I fitted my graphics card, I was scared off for opening up my PC for fear of sneezing or something and frazzling my PC for good. I believe around 50% of problems could be fixed by anybody who could use a screwdriver and can read a manual.
So before you come knocking on my door with your laptop in tow or spend £20 down at PC world, buy a book, read some websites, and try and fix the problem yourself.
You know, you may even learn something...
No Name Face....
I had a big discussion regarding blogs last week with a bunch of technophobes. "Talking about yourself on the internet? It's a bit egomanical, isn't it?" they said. "Do you put your picture on your website Rhys?". I said I did. "It's a bit vain, isn't it?". I couldn't come up with an answer which didn't sound like a 13 year old emo kid (such as "It's a gateway to my tortured soul." bollocks), so this post is trying to do my bit to defend my hobby. To prove that we're not all one step up from Big Brother contestants.
I had a look through the past months archives, and one thing has struck me. I've taken a heck of a lot of photos of myself. Now, contrary to what all you readers may think, but I'm not a vain character. Au contraire, I'm very self depreciating, and I hate vanity (I bitch so badly about one of my mates, not offensively, just the fact that whenever he emails us a "selection of birthday photos" there's always just an individual one of him). Just felt like I had posted more of my ugly mug than most.
So, in true DG fashion, I'm going to try and put faces to names.
On My Blogroll
There are 28 blogs.
- 19 of those bloggers I know the look of (assuming Punclox as one blogger).
- 2 of the 9 I don't are excluded because I've not read them that long (and I'm a working man, so I can't be bothered searching through archives).
- The So-Called Chemist: I know the look of, but he hasn't posted a picture of himself on his blog.
- A further 5 are also excluded due to knowing them in real life (though not Loki, as I read his blog before meeting him, being Sarah's brother.
- That leaves just under half the bloggers on my blogroll I have never met, yet can put a name to their face.
On Technorati top 10
There are 21.5 million blogs.
- I haven't got the time to look at 21.5 million blogs.
- Of the top 10, only one can be construed as a 'personal' blog. It can also have the distinction of being able to say "I beat Rhys at the bloggies, but I digress. That blog has pictures of the writer.
- Of the top 100 (as of today), 32
have been claimed. Of those 32, 22 have pictures.
- Of those 22 pictures, 15 are actually of people.
Conclusions From This
Using the data I've collected through my lunch break.....
- Despite the fact that blogging is seen to be an egotistical thing, a lot of bloggers (around two-thirds) don't post pictures of themselves.
- From my data, people who don't post photos of themselves usually do so for a reason. Often it's not inkeeping with the blog they keep (mainly people who blog a lot about work).
- Linked to that, some blogs almost demand that personal photos be included. Mine for example is about my life and what I do. My blog - by it's very nature - is shallow, so I try and cutesie you to death with pictures of me with puppies (admittedly, a Neurofern No-No).
- Even though some bloggers on my list don't include photos of themsevles, I feel as though I know some of them a lot better than some people I meet day to day.
- Finally, I guess I am probably more vain than I would like to be.
I guess in closing I should throw it out to you. Do you post a picture of yourself on your blog? If yes, why yes? If no, why no? Is it not that much of an issue? Would you post anything more than your face on the internet?
A Perfect Circle
"I'm going to be a bit late hunnie", A said, "you get something to eat, and I'll meet you in 20 minutes."
So I toddled off to do a little bit of shopping in a number of stores (nearly finished my Christmas shopping already. Go me!). I went into all the shops that A would find boring (i.e. video games shops), and in one....I saw it.
A blooming XBox 360, all shiny and new.
It's 'released' in this country in a few weeks, on December 2nd. Well, I say released, it'll be a bugger to get hold of before Christmas. Nevertheless, I was dying to have a go.
Unfortunately for me, some bloody pesky kids were on it for ages. Those kids just stood there and played over and over and over again, oblivious to the huge queue forming behind them. Those kids probably had no friends. How would I know? I was exactly the same at their age. I'd spend ages playing Street Fighter 2 on the SNES in Dixons when I was little.
Anyway, this kid was playing some wierd explorey type game where the fairy could transform itself into a armadillo and go rolling around the landscape. Kind of like a non-linear but shit Sonic really. Wasn't too impressed by anything but the graphics. Which lies the inherent problem with games these days.
Which therein lies the inherent problem.
With the exception of Civilization, Mario Party and Football Manager. I don't find games that interesting anymore. I know it's not that - as my dad wishes it was - that I've outgrown them. I know people double my age who play videogames, and there is still a spark there which has me transfixed to the screen (Metal Gear 3 had me hooked). But, if I'm to buy a new console, it'll probable be a Gamecube.
Welshmen In Need.....
Forgive me for being a heartless bastard, but I used to hate Children in Need.
It just seemed far too much like celebrity back slapping for me. Rather like Live 8, but with rubbish music.
When we were little, in school, Children in Need was fun! Usually it took the form of a Non-Uniform Day, with each child (or really...their mothers) paying 50p for the priveledge of wearing your own clothes (which was always either a Man U shirt or your best clothes which you only wore to parties at Burger King). The teachers used to crack the same joke ever time it happened: "It may be no uniform day but it's not 'no work day'!". Oh how we laughed.
When you're a university student, Children In Need takes a whole different meaning. Because you live in t-shirt and jeans, no uniform days are completely and utterly pointless. Instead, pub crawls are organised by people who have far too much time on thier hands. £5 is charged, and there's no point paying to do something we do already. Charity stuff is to supposed to be doing things which you don't normally do (like Paul scoring strikes...oh ho!).
Today in work has been quite fun, largely due to Children in Need. We've had a cake sale, a raffle (which I have 131, the same number as my house. It's a sign! It's an omen! It's....a coincidence), and an auction of a Liverpool Shirt. Also, one of my colleagues has been making balloon animals at 50p a shot. Mine's supposed to be a plane.
No comment needed.
Anyway, two bits of news from yesterday's post. Firstly was something that Ally made me remember. The job the agency rang me up for didn't want to interview me, they just wanted me to say yes or no. Surely it couldn't be worth going for, could it?
Secondly was the last line. They have informed me that I would be employed until at least Christmas (which is a good thing, considering when they took me on I was told I would probably be out of a job by now), and then we'll see. Least I can afford Christmas this year. Yay!
Nothing In This Life's Too Good For Me....
Something happened to me yesterday that I even a month ago would of been impossible to comprehend.
Last night, whilst playing Smackdown vs. Raw 2006
, I got a phone call. During my frantic search for a job two months ago I signed up to a number of agencies. One of which rang me yesterday saying they had the 'perfect' job for me. The agency thought that - due to my background in IT - I'd be interested working in the sales department of an IT company. The job was worth more than I was on now, but I would have to relocate.
I politely declined.
It felt so good! All those 30 second phone calls to people who were never in, all those mass produced emails that try so hard to be personal saying "Thanks, but no thanks", all those messages left on my voice mail service saying "You haven't got the job. Sorry." and then hanging up and all those times that they just didn't bother. All of a sudden those felt worthwhile. Here's me telling them I'm not interested!
I suppose in life the one thing I want is an opportunity. Now that my confidence slump is over (thanks largely to this job and A), I feel there's nothing that I can't achieve, or - at the very least - give a good shot at. I mean, I had no call centre experience nor any experience in the insurance world. Now, the next time I see one of those adverts inbetween Countdown for Claims Direct wanting to support you during your "Endowment Shortfall", I know exactly what they're talking about.
Now, watch me get fired.
Wanadoo Part 2.....
From this site, I get the most emails about
this post. Apparently, I'm not the only one who had problems with their liveboxes. So, instead of you having to contact me again, I'm preparing this which will explain exactly what I did.
First thing, the main cause of your livebox not working is due to an interruption during an update. Your livebox updates itself with new internal software by downloading it during quiet periods. However, instead of downloading the software and then installing it, it installs it on the fly. Wanadoo, in their infinite wisdom, don't let you know when updates are occurring. Even if they did, something like a power failure (which is what we had) is severe enough to crash the livebox.
If you ring Wanadoo, they will first send you a CD which resets the internal BIOS of the box. This very rarely works, as on two separate occasions we have tried to restore the internal BIOS (once to us, once to someone I know), the box refuses to work afterwards. I would also like to add that I do NOT have a copy of the CD lying around.
After that, they will send you a replacement Livebox. We got ours pretty quick (2-3 days), but some people I know have had problems with their delivery. You have to send back the broken one in a prepaid envelope, but it's not a necessity.
My advice? Change your ISP. Most have packages for wireless networks, which use off-the-shelf bought routers. Although we use Bulldog, I wouldn't advise it, as it is a bit slow and unreliable (their DNS server regularly crashes, long story short: you type in google.com and you get a porn site, and vice versa*). There are great ISP's designed for wireless networking. All are pretty easy to set up, and you generally don't get the hassle with Wanadoo Liveboxes.
Right, now you don't have to bother me again!
* Not like I go on porn sites....honest
You cut her hair (part 2).....
Since the age of around 15, that's what my hair looks like. I've always tried to keep it short, for the simple reason that I can't be arsed doing anything with it, so by keeping it short means that there's no need for wax, gel or even much shampoo. It also comes from the fact that at school my nickname was "Afro", which I wasn't happy about.
Now is a different story. Due to the fact that I cannot justify spending money on a haircut, I've let it grow a bit wild. Still no gel or wax, just shampoo and conditioner (you see I'm so poor I have to buy separate shampoo and conditioner). Generally, this has been well recieved, as I know A likes playing with hair (another scary resembelence between her and Sarah), so more hair equals more happy ladies. I also wanted to experiement with what's been known as the "James Blunt Look"*, which seems to be oh so popular these days, as I think it could suit me.
However, a friend is pestering me to get my haircut, but I'm unsure what to do. I like the low matainance of my old haircut, but my head's nice and warm. A (I think) loves my hair. That's nice, but she also think this is attractive.
So her opinion can not be trusted. Plus, if it gets wet, my hair smells like a wet cat, which isn't nice at all.
But I'm unsure really, should I cut my hair or let it grow for a bit?
Of course, if I can somehow maintain the sexy straight soft feeling of my hair which is achieved after leaving the shower, then I'm not touching it.
* I don't like James Blunt though, I think he's a...James Blunt.
Layin' The Smack Down!
Morning campers. I don't think you can appreciate what Bob Geldof meant with "I Don't like Mondays"* until you are working a 9 to 5 job. Of course, my job is actually quite fun, with such philosophical debates as "Are there any gay footballers?" and "If God didn't approve of homosexuality, surely he would of done something about it by now? Or is he just saying 'go on, kiss a man, I dare you'.", but even so, Monday mornings are depressing.
Much of the weekend was juggled between being a perfect boyfriend to A, and being a shit of a boyfriend by sneaking off to play Smackdown vs. Raw 2006 without her knowing. I'm sure blokes will agree with me, that occasionally you get a computer game that you really want to play, but can't because somebody will hate you. I was in that situation a hell of a lot this weekend, it isn't fun.
Anyway, you have to create a wrestler to play season mode, so check out my bad self: "The Welshie" Rhys Wynne (announced as "Ashley", which kinda sounds like "Welshie", if you're deaf, it's like Bort all over again....).
Right, I'm off to continue my Season. I'm currently trying to pull one of the women wrestlers. God bless storylines that try to appeal to 15 year olds!
* Yes, I'm quite aware it's about some teenager who justified a murder by using those words, but I do appreciate it....
Eddie Guerrero: 1967-2005
Gutted.....
Children in Need
Just a quickie today (oooerrrr!!!!).
My mate Paul is trying to set a new world record with the most strikes bowled on one lane in 24 hours. It's a new record, but hopefully Guiness will accept it.
Anyway, he is bowling as part of Children in Need, and he needs people to sponsor him, more details are about it here.
You can sponsor him per strike (most people are under 5p a strike range), or you can sponsor a flat fee. Either way, it would be greatly appreciated. E-mail me if you are interested.
Thanks.
The Mousetrap
Last night, in a vain hope to keep hold of my studentdom, we went to Tesco's Old Swan (which, incidentally,
do not sell them) in a student-esque "Shit! We've got the car for a weekend! Lets go shopping!" pilgramage.
The students amongst you know the score. You set out with all but good intentions and only get the essentials. However, you return with beer, stuff to run a kiddies party, beer, chocolate, more beer, and a board game or two (such as the last time, when Guy returned with Simpsons Monopoly, despite the fact it was £10 more expensive than regular Monopoly). Last night was almost the case, as - despite the fact I had already been to the supermarket earlier that day for milk and chips - I felt I'd missed out on "essentials", such as Pepsi Max, Crisps and....very nearly....Mousetrap.
I used to love mousetrap as a kid, I remember a TV show with a 50 foot high version of it, and they captured prizes using the trap, all remarkably exciting. Anyway, despite not having it too long (I used to break it a lot, as it was very flimsy), it still remains one of my absolute favourite board games ever.
The bad thing is that, even in my extremely dire financial state, I would of bought it, if not for one thing my mate said.
"You know they've changed it, and made it shit."
Apparently so, on closer inspection of the box, there is now 3 traps, as opposed to one long one. That defeats the whole purpose of the game as you're supposed to play whilst the ridiculously long-to-implement trap was running (part of the beauty of the Penalope Pitstop Cartoons were that the traps the Hooded Claw set up took so long, it built up intreague). Also, you begin with the entire trap set up, and that's just cheating. Part of the joy of the original was to build the trap as you went along. Why change such a good formula?
I left Tesco's incensed, and contemplated emailing Hasbro to find out what the craic was, and whether the origional one was still available.
If not, eBay me do!
Radio Ga-Ga
An anonymous commentor on
this post (who I think is Skinny) has asked if I got a recording of my radio show, and it's prompted me to do a mini overhaul of Chez Lez Blog Rhys....
Firstly is the blogger comments. I've dropped the fantastic YACCS comments which I've had since the beginning, largely due to the fact that blogger comments are archived and also I get email when a new comment is posted (it was this reason, coupled with the fact I almost missed reading the anonymous comment) is reason enough to change it.
Anywho, onto the question itself. The answer is yes I have got a recording of it, but am a bit wary of posting it, what with the BBC is onto me now I kind of a bit apprehensive about posting it. I mean, although BBC podcasts are similar, I'm still a bit apprehensive posting it.
That, and it will probably rape my bandwidth.
With that being said, I'd like to know if you would like to hear it. E-mail me, and I'll try and sort something out, based on interest, of course.
Back Home....
Apologies for the lack of updates, I've actually been (suprise suprise) very busy. It was my Mum & Dad's 25th wedding anniversary and my Dad's 50-something birthday (coincidence? I think not, my mum made sure that my dad got married on a date he will remember). We had tea in
our local which was for me a pan-fried salmon fillet with curried sweet potato risotto (none of this half rice, half chips bollocks at our pub!) and copious amounts of alcohol.
I also saw one of my old school teachers. Dunno why it suprised me, as I suppose teachers have lives outside of school, I just never pictured it. Unfortunately he didn't seem to recognise me, and I didn't feel compelled to go upto him and say "do you remember me?" as, although he taught me Biology all the way through school until A-Level, he couldn't remember my name. Well, he eventually did, but he said to me "That's nice work Nick" in Year 10, and old wounds don't heal.
Anywho, the other thing I want to talk about is concerning a very old coat of mine:
That's the beaver. I said for Christmas I wanted a smarter coat, as lime green does not match my eyes. So we went shopping to Llandudno and my mum bought myself one. Then, via warped rationale, she said I needed my coat now, and gave the coat to me there and then! It's such a nice warm coat - admittedly, the hood isn't as good as ol' limey - but it more than makes up with the fact it isn't a horrible colour.
Finally, there was one special girl I saw over the weekend, and no A, don't get scared!
Isn't she lovely?
More to the point, isn't he hungover?
You'll cut her hair....
God love her,
Sarah never lies.
When she say she will
cut her hair.
.....she'll cut her hair......
She's also improved her choice of tops....oh ho!!!!
I'm drunk....and was on the radio tonight (repeat of Sunday), leave me alone.....
