Dear Sony...

I would first like to thank you for creating a wonderful games-station on which I can play Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. Over the last few months, many hours (probably days) of my life have been spent working out puzzles, learning about thug-life, levelling Hispanic gangs with assault rifles, driving recklessly on (and most of the time, off) the roads - squashing distressed pedestrians without a second thought, generally blowing shit up and having a great time doing it.

Unfortunately, this money-saving and truly wonderful distraction from real life has come to an end; I've recently had regular access to a Playstation 2 taken away from me, as a result I'm being forced to actually get out and do interesting things. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy pursuing such activities as 'Going for coffee', 'going to the pub with my friends', 'Reading books' and going to things called 'House Parties' - the problem lies in the cost of these things.

Let me tell you what I've been up to since the evening I was told that the Playstation was going:-

• Thurs:- A few quiet beers in a bar called 'En Route' for my house-mates birthday, I had a hangover on Friday.
• Fri:- A few relaxing beers in the local, with my friend Eirian - we were joined by others. I had a mild hangover on Saturday, coupled with a lack of sleep.
• Sat:- A house party in Phaelon Towers with gin and beer disappearing at an alarming rate down my throat. Sunday, I had another mild hangover - and sunstroke.
• Sun:- Weekend wind-down beers in the pub, then a takeaway.
• Mon:- A night in!! I read a book... (hooray!)
• Tues:- Phaelon Towers again for a couple of beers, the last beer was finished at 4am. I didn't make it home.
• Wed:- I was out on my feet, but Mair got a few people together and we went to a pub, we had beer. Cope was there, so was Rhys - amongst others. It was a funny night but I was knackered.
• Tonight:- I'm shattered but I'm going for coffee with two friends, and one of their Mothers. At least there's no alcohol.
• Tomorrow:- I'll be back at home in the hills, that means going down the pub and talking about tractors with the locals.
• Saturday:- I'll be in Southampton, I'll be in a bar there too.

Hopefully you can see the trouble that I'm getting myself into? By the time Sunday rolls around, I would have spent one night out of TEN sitting in the house... all I'm asking for here is that you do your very best to get me another Playstation (preferably the 3rd version) for me to start getting healthy by blasting some fools and treating my bitches real good once again. It doesn't have to be brand new, as long as it plays the games I want it too - I'll be a happier, richer and healthier person.

Please do what you can,

Yours Tired-ly,

Curly.

Weekends

I haven't really kept up to date with the exciting adventures mentioned in my bl*g header, so I suppose I'd better fill you in with some of the details from the last few weekends. Grab a hot drink and take a (long) breather...

Three weeks ago

I awoke, with a massive hangover, on Saturday morning and fired off a number of texts to various people around Cardiff to see who was in the mood for getting a fried breakfast and then finding something to do around town. No-one had responded within half and hour so I instead texted my brother in Southampton to see if he was busy, he got back to me straight away and as a result - won the competition (The competition that I'd not told anyone about). Three hours later, I was in a Southampton catching up with not only my brother but a bunch of old uni friends and funnily enough, Si and Charles of Phaelon fame - who happened to be in Southampton at the same time. We reminisced about all the places we used to visit when we lived there and then we actually visited them and drank beer inside. Our night culminated in a trip to the ultra-studenty 'Kaos' nightclub, home of the "Three pukes and you're out" rule and the reason our clothes were always covered in black stuff on a Wednesday night. Kaos had actually cleaned up a little since I had last been (about three years previously), but it was entertaining all the same.

On the Sunday, my brother and I took a bus out of the city and found ourselves at a very local steam fair. At least, I think it was a steam fair - there were classic cars, beer tents, burger stands, a carnival queen and heaps of steam engines either driving around or powering farm machinery. It looked kind of like this. :-

Several Steam engines drove round at about 3 mph

If Carlsberg made beer tents...

Just to highlight how local this was... who's Mark? And why is it so good to get handled by him?

We stayed far too long mainly because our attempts at sounding like locals and blagging our knowledge of steam engines, with such as phrases as "Wow, so what's that stuff coming out of the chimney on that tractor?" and "Where does the petrol go?", went so well that we had everyone convinced we were massive steam enthusiasts. It was actually really nice just wandering around and sniggering at the local-ness of it all. We managed to get ourselves invited to a barbeque at the end of the day and after that we headed back into the city and I travelled back to Wales, sunburnt, dirty from all the steam and full of good food.

Two weeks ago

This weekend wasn't so eventful. We got horribly drunk on the Friday, so much so that nobody that I've asked since can recollect the evening at all - but it was probably fun. Saturday was spent watching rugby, lying face down on the sofa (moaning about our hangovers) in the pub all day and watching a band. Our bodies were aching all over but we enjoyed it all the same. During the week I'd attempted to have a bbq every day, Sunday was my fifth of the week. I thought that was pretty good going seeing as it had rained on the two days that I didn't have one.

This weekend

This was the best one yet. A few quiet beers and some ridiculous conversations on a Friday evening in the pub was a nice relaxing way to end the week. I woke up on Saturday feeling great, and that feeling continued throughout the weekend - mainly because I was in the company of a lovely young lady. We milled around, told plenty of uncle-style jokes and generally had a wonderful time. Saturday evening brought with it the first (and unfortunately last) party at Phaelon Towers, the six residents were finally moving out after a three year stint and decided to go out with a bang, 'Phaelonpalooza' was the result. At the height of the party we were told that between 35 and 40 people were squeezing themselves into the Towers - I can't remember how many hours we spent in there but we managed to consume lots of cheap gin and steal a fair few beers as well, a success in my opinion.

Residents of Phaelon Towers

An alarming amount of ties in the kitchen

The Sunday I spent with the girl again, more wandering aimlessly was done. She's mentioned the heron and the swans but much to my annoyance, didn't actually mention the best bit - the ducks. The ducks were just magnificent, with their advanced swimming methods, attractive green heads and er... their amazing webbed feet. I loved the ducks, they were probably the highlight of my day to be honest. She left in the early evening and I was suddenly plonked back into the real world again, I suddenly realised that a whole weekend had vanished without me even realising. Unable to think of what to do next, I decided to go and get my fill of manliness and headed to the pub for a weekend wind-down with some friends, a couple of beers, a takeaway curry and then home for several episodes of Father Ted.

Lovely.

Londres\Llundain\Londain\Lundúnir

*Subheading, I've run out of post title ideas - so what*

Yesterday afternoon I found myself walking lazily along the Thames, the humidity had slowed me down to almost a snail's pace in order to avoid inducing sweating. The jeans, t-shirt and shirt combination I'd opted for was well suited to the slightly cooler, damper air in Cardiff but was by no means suitable for travelling around the city on the underground. My decision to get out of the tube and walk was helped in no small way by two large Canadian women who, with considerably more weight to lug around than I, were giving off a considerable amount of extra heat as they plonked themselves on the seats next to me. After two stops, one Canadian had decided that her seat wasn't big enough, so she overspilled into mine - the heat (never mind the sweat) was unbearable and (much to the amusement of a girl sat opposite) I jumped off at the next station.

When I surfaced from the caverns below, I discovered that I was very close to the houses of parliament, I went for a quick gander and then decided that I'd better go and see a few more of the sights that London had to offer. Within a couple of hours I'd seen Big Ben, the (outside of the) Tate Modern, St.Pauls cathedral (if you've never seen scaffolding before, you'll LOVE this place) and numerous streets from the original Monopoly game. Street entertainers entertained, tourists toured, the locals drank beer and read books on benches by the water, boats chugged up and down the river and death-defying cyclists weaved in and out of the traffic in the most awkward fashion, neither them or the car drivers giving an inch in the battle to move forwards.

Guessing that the rush hour was now over, I descended back into the tube and was magically whizzed away to the more familiar surroundings of Clapham, in the south of the city. I sat outside a pub armed with a pint of Guinness and a copy of 'London Lite', which I preferred to steal from the table rather than take from one of the vendors who seemed to want to ram a copy straight down my throat. As I sat there waiting for my friends to arrive, I recounted what had happened that afternoon. I'd been asked for money twice, had given train/underground information three times, given directions once, flirted with two girls, smirked tens of times on the tube, had numerous people to invite to join me, ordered one beer, I came to the conclusion that all PA's were Antipodean, all bar staff were either Antipodean or Eastern European and spent about £10 all together.... I thought to myself...

"Yeah, I could do this"

London

I can't stand the place for more than three days in a row, it's dirty, expensive, it smells funny and there are FAR too many people there. Yet, I find myself seriously considering moving there.

Why am I considering doing such a stupid thing?

I have a decent job, it takes me 20mins to walk to work. That walk takes me through two parks and the majority of the time is spent on the laid back, happy, student ant-trail to Uni. I only moved back to Cardiff in November because I was missing it so much. There aren't too many people here, there are enough bars and restaurants to keep *insert name of famous alcoholic* happy. I get to see most of the games that the Welsh rugby team play in the Millennium Stadium, which is only 25mins from my house.

I have a track record of getting bored of wherever I'm living and moving on after a certain period of time, I've never lived in a city as large as London (the largest in fact has been Calgary which, population wise, is about an eighth of that of London).

The rent and general cost of living here is relatively low (London is about the fifth most expensive city in the world), and draws a gasp from most Southern England residents when they hear how much we pay for the same services. A round of four beers in the local will set you back an ALMIGHTY £5.

From Cardiff, you can be in the Brecon Beacons national park within 30mins drive, the Gower (Britains very first Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty) within an hour, the beaches of the Gower and North Devon are not too long away either. It's a laid-back place, there are only a few 'posh' or 'scabby' placed, most places are in between - which is fine.

I have no idea why I want to move, but the thought is occupying my head more and more - with several friends offering places to live or help to find new jobs (if I need one), and others are being even MORE helpful and offering to buy me beer and get me drunk in lots of new bars.

Any tips/funny jokes/offers of beer, would be much appreciated.

Bullets

• I just don't get fashion.

• I went to see Silversun Pickups on Saturday night, it was a pretty damn good gig - I thoroughly suggest that you pop along to their website/myspace. I apparently also tried it on with Nikki, the bass player - this quite clearly backs up statements I've made before.

• Facebook has invaded my drunken autpilot system, I've been out drinking three times since Monday 28th May, there's been a total of eight texts sent from me, TO me, containing only peoples full names - people who I've had no recollection of. I've since added them as my facebook friends, I've been quite amazed who I've met on a night out...!

• Astrid came up to visit last weekend. I'm not sure who won the prize for the most energy remaining after two days of fun, running around the sights of Cardiff, but I think it was a very close contest! Cope even hauled himself away from creating facebook groups revising to grab a bit to eat with us - I knew the only way to lure him out was to mention that we were going to one of his favourite pubs in Cardiff.

• A Sunday night 'Let's go through our cellphones and see who's in there' session with two mates let to me finding the numbers for Hot Girls and Random in my phone. Some comedy text conversations ensued. Initially a couple of probing texts were sent from me, texts containing lots of question marks. Both responded pretty quickly; It turns out that I had a similar conversation with Random a month ago - I'd met her about two years previously at a gig. Hot Girls sounded more promising, the conversation went something like this:-

Curly: Umm, hello. I have your number in my phone but have absolutely no recollection of who you might be or where I would have met you?? Can you help at all???!"

Hot Girls: Hey there, you are in my phone as "Curly Buffalo". Big enough clue? I was with a friend and your 'Dad'?

*My Dad?!! I no longer cared about the fact that these girls might be hot, this threw me completely*

Curly: I was in Buffalo Bar on Friday night, that sounds about right. Were you sat near the window at the front? Who the hell was my 'dad'?

HG: Your Dad said his name was 'Paul X' and works on sanitary bins! Thought he got you a drink? By the window, yes! We were the campers!

*What the hell?! There wasn't anyone called Paul with us, and I don't know anyone that 'works on sanitary bins'.... and campers?!*

A few texts later, it eventually all came back to me, I remembered the girls, being in Buffalo and the whole camping thing - but no further light has been shed on who my dad was that night. A massive hangover on Sunday night just exhausted me and I promptly gave up figuring it out.

• Tonight, I'm going to see Indie-Poppers Los Campesinos! It's sure to be a mighty fun time.