Breaking The Habit.

Well, what do you think of my new look?

Bet you thaught you'd never see the day when my blog was white, eh?

Anyways, school tomorrow, all three lessons also. Luckily I've got third and fourth off, meaning I have three and a quarter hours to think about doing something remotely useful in my academic life.

But will I? Most probably not.

And why not? Maybe it is because I have that hateful trait of laziness. Ah, I dunno. Maybe I'll find myself suddenly having a burst of wonderous inspiration and doing something worthful. But, I doubt that'll happen.

So... nice day?

Sorry, I'm just trying to avoid going to sleep. 'Cause I know it'll take me about an hour to actually sleep, and in that time I would have played a few games of solitaire on my iPod and have had rather disturbing thaughts on life again.

And that's got me thinking... is that what midlife crisis are? Just having days of being shite-scared of what life has in store for you? In that case... I'll be dead before fourty. Hope not. Then again, I'd probably'd rather that than the whole watching the world swirl ever deeper into the pit of destruction it has built itself.

Shit... I promised myself I wouldn't talk about anything deep. So I'll leave it there for now. Carry on.

So yeah, have you realised that I usually post a blog late at night? At least this one's different... so far. But for some reason somethings just catch my eye and distract... Oh look... a squirell.

And on another note... this time it's G#...

- Fin.

Forbidden Morality.

Yet again, I fail with blog titles.

So, it's a wednesday. The midway point of the week. Unless you believe otherwise. Anykerfuffle, it's the night of yet another party. Why do I know this? It's next door, technically. Why aren't I going? The whole drinking thing raises up again.

Besides that, Lowri's gone back to Carmarthen to conclude her years as a university student. Ah well, I just hope that she doesn't do shite and turn to become a footballer... like what Christiano Ronaldo is like (nearly wrote Rhonaldo... some Spanish type of Welsh county there).

Er.... struggling to find things to say really....



Er.....

I've left this post brewing for two days... so I'm back to forfill this post. Lucky devils, you...

I'm going to start with this...



It's a nice change in an album that's full of punkage. Appeal To Reason (Rise Against's fifth album) is amazing. Their last two albums (the other is Sufferer and the Witness) are two of the best albums I've ever heard, along with Perl Jam's Ten and a handful of others. I mean, this album shows that you don't need weed, alcahol nor lavish orgies with random people to make a good album. Another band I wish I could make music as good as... pity. Ah, the reason why I've posted that song in perticular is because that's the song I just learned on guitar (rhythm, mind, haven't learned any of the fills...). Pity I've only learned it in powerchord form. I can't really do some of the chords in that song. Ah well, powerchords shall be my savior.

In other news. There was a Chemistry expreiment today... in which I failed miserably. I would go into detail on the experiment, but all I remember is that I had to extract some alderhyde from a mixture. Cleaver.

Also, I think I've totally changed my idea for the Alone poem for Music Tech, maybe Hero Of War has influenced me a bit. Hope it has, it's an amazing song.

I also have my guitar back into full playability now, with all strings back to health. Woop.

Ah, I give up on this post... ignore the name... hehe, I had the Fame song in my head then... or, AntiFame...

Please ignore my name (infame).
I ain't gonna live forever.
I'll just sit here 'till I die (yey)...

Yeah, I wish I could write half funny things...

Ah well, bye bye m'love.

- Finitisammo.

Death Of A D Stringed Encore....

Yep, no idea if the title actually makes sense there.

Basically, my guitar (well, my sister's guitar) has lost a string, a D string. Sob sob. And it's an Encore guitar...

So yeah...

Uneventful blog so far.

One question though... what's the weirdest music video you've seen?

For me... it's the new Rammstein video for their new song... 'Pussy'.

I would place a link here to the video... but if your parants or younger siblings aren't around... watch it. It's a funky tune. Just ignore the bandmembers banging some women... such is the joys of extreme music videos...

So yeah, it's one in the afternoon. How swell is that?

Not much else to say really. Muse's new music video's been released. It's not bad. Haven't heard all of it, just half. But I've liked what I've heard so far. Looks like Muse is doing it again. Woop. Paramore's new album'll be out next week (I think the twenty-nineth?), so not long now... hopefully the album'll follow Ignorance's vibe.

In other news. I have found my charger for my shaver. WOOP. Now all I have to do it charge the fecker.

Oh yeah, this past week was, what I shall call as the 'when's the next one?' week. Why? Z, your turn... sorry, shite joke there. Anycucumber, it's because on Thursday night, there was a party for the sixth form, and I stayed home, watching Mock The Week. Brilliant. Next day, I was the first to arrive at school. But as the trickles of drunkards arrived, the birth of the upmost dread came to be. Oh last night was SOOOOOO fun! I like drunk a WHOLE BOTTLE of J2O! I was totally gazeeboed!. Well, not like that. That's a major exaguration. But the idea applies.

But yeah, it wasn't as bad as I thaught it would've been, but then again the Chemistry class went to Cardiff Uni for some Chemistry learnage, so it wasn't as bad as other times. But that question always arrived. 'When's the next one? I wanna get ratarsed again'. Then the whole 'there should be one a month' suggestion appeared. Meh, not really going to comment on that. But yeah, since this year is the year of the eighteenth birthday, there's going to be a shitload of times when 'when's the next one?' will be repeated. Ah well...

So yeah, looks like the nex one might be roughly around the last week of October. I just hope that the week after's a half-term... I can only hope, right?

Back to something that will make you drone even further. GUITAR HERO. =).

Nah, only messing with you. I won't say anything about it. Apart from this, the next one should have Slipknot's Psychosocial as a track. That would be good, well I think that anyways. Do you?

Oh, look at me, asking my readers questions... how original am I?

This post seems short to me... so I'll make it that little bit longer with a video. And no it's not the Rammstein one. Also am I spelling Rammstein right?...

IT'S MOCK THE WEEK, BABY!!



=).

So yeah, goobdye!

- Finissimo.

But Can You Fake It, For Just One More Show?...

I shall begin with a bang...


BANG.






And yet, more bangage is needed...




So, watch this. I dunno why, I like it.




... Oh, how I wish I could do that...

Anyways, hello to y'all. Yeah, I hate that word too. 'Y'all'. Nearly as much as LOL, stoked and... the most dreaded of all... tummy. Well, any word that ends with '-ummy'. Tummy, mummy, dummy, and so on and so forth, if there's more. I mean, I guess it's okay to say them words to a toddler, but I'd feel a bit nervous if a doctor told me that I had to have loads of stitches in my tummy, and he had consent from my mummy. Man, they're like the worst type of words in the English language. Use stumoch (however you spell it), mother, and whatever the english version of pacifier is. That's all I'm sayin'.

On academic news. I've gone from borderline shit to extremely shit in Chemistry now, and nerly doing the same in Physics. In Music Tech, I've made alright progress on the Blondie song, I'm on the chorus part of all instruments so it's all good so far. Haven't done anything really for the recording task. For the compsition task, I've got a riff (well, chord progression), which sounds rather emo unfortunately. But I'm hoping to punk it up (or at least rock it up, so it matches the acoustic intro) for the choruses (or chorusi) and the other two verses. So yeah, the only course I actually feel like I'm going anywhere in is Music Tech, and I actually rather have the other two being better...

Seriously though, my mathmatical skills have gone down the toilet, but halfway down it had reacted with the water, evaporated, and managed to enter my body through my pitiful need of oxygen to live until the next time I have to go to the toilet. I don't know why. Maybe I'm subconsiously thinking something that's making me become shite, or maybe it's quite simply, that I'm shite at counting. Which is not something I want to admit. Maths has been the only subject that I've been consistantly good at since I was a baby. So, why's it turning on me? Or, should that be why is my brain turning into a mouldy pile of unwanted socks? Yeah, I'll go with that.

Maybe... maybe I'm secretly telling myself, without actually knowing I'm saying it to myself, is 'why bother?'. What's the point in doing these calculations because in a matter of mere dacades, you'd be like the big fish and little fish... in a cardboard box. And I know I've talked about it in a post (if I remember, it was more of an essay...), but for nearly two months now, I've haven't had the subject out of my head. I had like, at least four different moments of mini panic in school.

The most recent one was in Physics. We had Brooks (which, I think, is the best Physics teacher there, but to be fair, it was either her of Humphreys... no competition really). She was on about what monoatomic things where (well, giving a quick explaination on them anyways). And I just thaught, what if we all were electrons, speeding our way around the neuclius in every direction possible? What if we occupy a miniscule section of some alien material? ect... Then I just looked up, and I was slightly breathless. I looked at my hand, but then moved it from my sight, 'cause (somehow) it resembled my mortality'. Random thaughts came to my head. Why are we here? What's the real purpose of life? What songs am I going to play on Guitar Hero when I get home? Nah, I lie about the last one. But still, I'm really scared by this morbid fascination (well, not fascination... but that's the only word I can think of) of death and the afterlife.


Just now, they said on the news that some cook died at the age of sixty-odd. I thaught shit, I'm over a quarter of that age... Michael Jackson wasn't in his sixties when he died/got killed/faked his death (options are depending what you believe, oh and correct me if I'm wrong on his age). And just now, they've got news on the murderer of an eighty-odd year old woman. Murder. How heartless must you be to take another person's life for no reason whatsoever? Even when they've done something major, most of the time it doesn't mean people have the right to wipe their prescence of the face of the earth. But meh, how am I going to stop mass geniside... I dunno. At first I thaught geniside was the murder of genitalia...

So, if you're in school, and you see me looking like I'm thinking about something, there's a good chance I'm thinking about life (or another thing, which I thaught would've gone once this school year started.... more fool me...). Actually that's made me think about something. If you read this, tell me what you think? Either in a comment to this post, or to me in person/MSN/e-mail/smoke signals. I want to know if I'm the only seventeen year old to think this. Most likely I am. But hey, I'd like to see what other people think about what life is, if you think about it often, y'know...

Oh, by the way, I know most people joke about me being emo, with the whole cutting my wrists routine... I just like to point out that I'll never kill myself. And I've never said anything truet than that.

I'm off now... but before I go... a question...

Boris Johnson, true or false?

- Fin.

Eight In A Row.

Lucky you.

This should be a short post.

Woop.

...

See you.











Nah, not really. It will be shorter. Well, in the amount of text there is compared to others. Anyways.

I've designed a website after looking at a tutorial on PSDTuts. So, enough text, here's the result.



So, what d'you think?

It's the first white design, as all of the others have been either black or a dark colour. Even though I've basically followed a tutorial on it, I'd like to think I could tweek it a tad more.

Nearly done. Yes, really.

Before I go, I'm with her on religion...


I'm out.

- Fin.

'Hope This Ain't Classed As Emo'.

I had an odd day yesterday.

It involved a loving twenty-six (ish) hours of awakeness, which started at roughly four, five on the day of the AS level. I managed to beat VeJay Singh in match-play for the first time (his digital skill has a lot to be desired... aspecially because I play on a rather easy dificulty, I suck at many games...). In to time whatsoever it was time for me to hop into my sister's car to go to get the letters. But before that...

Six in the morning. I loaded up the house computer. Waited effing ages for AOL to load up (word of advice... if in doubt, DO NOT FUCKING GET AOL. Man...). Once I did, I went on the Edexcel website. There was (and, I guess, still is) no login section. I spent like, twenty minutes, looking for the poxy thing. Then a brainwave hit me, like, well, a brainwave coming to me. All I had to do was go on the registration page, then change the URL from studentregistration to login. Man, if that's the only thing that I can give to the world... it's that. God help the world.... Well, anyways. I logged in (after having a bugger of a time with the password) and then a lovely screen came up. It had my marks for both coursework and exam paper results for Music Technology.

And, I believe it's a triumph, of sorts.Well, considering that the teacher had no idea what we were supposed to do. But hey. I managed to get a D overall for it. Though, I had a bloody C for my exam, if I had three more marks, I would've had a C overall. A BLOODY C. Ah well, there's next year...

Reached school at nine, with my sister and Ricky in the car. He was stating the obvlious, as always - well, he points at a car, and says 'car' - and then I left them to walk around while I went to get my science results...

Already, people were going YEY or NEY on what they got. The deputy headmaster gave me my results, and low and behold, my prediction of no E's was true...

I had a D overall in Chemistry (despite a massive cock-up involving an unclassified in Chemistry 2). And a C overall in Physics. Once again, the best subject is Physics. If you didn't know, in GCSE year, I only had one A, and that was in Physics. And, saying 'I only had one A', I don't meant that in a 'oh, look at me with my A in Physics', it compares with the majority being C's. So yeah, C-D-D overall, not bad... but by God, it could've been a lot better...

Nothing really happened during the day after that. Managed to infultrate some military bases on Prototype, and if I haven't said it before, get it. =). Anyroad, just vegged out really after that, though I've recently had an urge to get Ashes Cricket 2009 (because I'm too shit to play it in real life). Then, once the night dawned (which, I believe, doesn't make sense), and I went to bed, I couldn't sleep. Why's that? No clue.

But, for some reason, I started to sing a song, in bed. Why? Once more, I have no clue. Though, I never heard the lyrics before... so, I kinda made up a chorus-esque part of a song (which, when I was singing it in my head, sounded rather like Rise Against). And on the same piece of paper, I wrote 'Hope this ain't classed as emo'. and 'Yeah, don't ask' on the top. I would put it here, but since I know it's ten times worse than shaite and I expect everyone will shun me for three eternities and a decade. Then, I couldn't sleep, or I did, but I woke up oddly and I 'looked confused' (see, eye witness there). So I stayed up all night, watching things made by Gordon Ramsey. Lovely.

Nothing else to add... apart from this...



This is a single (not the music video) of Alive by Pearl Jam. One word, my friend, bloody brilliant. Yeah, it's that good, it breaks the one word rule. The first time I heared this, I thought this was one of their newer songs, and I found it weird when I realised this was one of the songs an Ten, an album that is considered one of the best Grunge albums, even beating Nirvana's Nevermind - I personally like Ten more than Nevermind, no idea why... - and yeah, wait until the solo at the end. It scared the shit out of me when I found out he (no idea who done the solo, sorry) done this in one take. No breaks. Bloody hell... But anyways, Eddie Vedder (lead vocals/lyricist) is amazing... if only I could write something that's a tenth of the goodness this song is...

Ah well.

- Fin, but not Finito.

Fuck It, I'm Off To Prague...

No idea where the title came from. I just thaught of it when I was looking at a blog that showed the best designs for a live CD cover, or something like that. Man, if only I can write lyrics... well, if only I could bloody play anything good...

If you didn't know, tomorrow is the joyous day of A level results day. It is also the day the half-lifes get their results (that is, the AS'ers... if only there was an R in there...). Most of the reactions of this pleasant day is this...

'FUCK I ARE NREVEOUS LOL'

Er, lol?

Anyways, once again I face ridicule as failure draws closer than ever before (well, maybe it's because it's only like twelve hours til results day). And once again, there is no nervous nerve in my body. No shaking in my boots - well, maybe it's because I haven't worn shoes for the past week - nothing. I don't want this to be shown as confidence. Fuck, I'm more confident pissing in a public toilet than I am in these results. I just see it as another piece of paper, with whatever mark I've had for the four horsemen of the apocolypce.. sorry, I meant papers (just to recap, I sat Chemistry 2, Music Technology and Physics 1 (resit) and 2). But then again, if I do manage to beat my estimations (which is a low C in Chemistry, a D/E in both Physics papers and an E in Music Tech), I'll be happier than a man who realised what his thingy was for (yes, for pissing).

Anyroad, nothing else to report, really. Still haven't beat [Prototype] yet (I suck, to be fair). I've only had one critique on my designs (merci, RuhBuhJuh). Learned the rhythm guitar to Decode (as I'm expecting people's reaction to be 'sad Twilight lover', I've never read the books, nor watched the movie, I just like the song, ya?) and actually tried to make a slap-bass version of That's What You Get (I've kinda gone Paramore mad in the recent days, I blame the Ignorance video...). Though, I hope that saying I figured out a 80's-esque riff on the guitar. It's a typical riff (like, you're expecting the changes like), and if I figured it out before I submitted my No Angel I'd probably have a different intro. But yeah, Muse has like implanted a supermassive blackhole (yeah... sad child) in my brain and now the only bass songs I want to learn are theirs. Pity that they're too fucking good for me... Man, how I suck. Can only scrape through Hysteria intro. Ah well, that's what YouTube is for...

Oh, and I've got a feeling that I'm not going to do good with my personal statement... or maybe I should take extracts from my blog... what d'you think?

- Fin, m'love.

*Loads Shotgun, Seductively*.

I begin this post by making a revolting comment that is... well... a slightly better one than the ones I've done in the past ones. I've had two nose-bleeds in the space of a week. Some main questions is, 'what's the fucking point of having your oxygen transporters expel from your nostrils like Niagra Falls when gravity has gone up by three hundred percent?' and 'how come it always comes when your not expecting it?'.

Well, to be fair, humans aren't libraries, aren't we? Nor are we a personal take-away service. I don't go up to my brain and say 'hello, I'd like to order a nose bleed with a side order of extra blood, and please, hold the snot'. I mean, a nose bleed is one thing, but when you have two in a matter of a week... one during a game of golf (yeah, I got myself a Tiger Woods game for the XBox 360. I am sad) and the recent one (you might've guessed, it was just now...) while watching Blackadder Goes Forth on YouTube. Bastard nose.

Well, it seems that the plague of the school holidays have finally attacked me like Gordon Brown attracts bad karma (yeah, I've realised how creative I am with similies... and the fact that I should stop using them). Hardly slept last night. All I remember is staring up to the sky, thinking to myself 'where the fuck's the ceiling gone?' while singing the guitar riff to In Bloom over and over again. Spent four hours watching the whole of series one and three of Blackadder. That was done at about ten this morning, failed at a round of golf. Failed at LMA Manager '07 (... yeah, I kknow). Though, watching random clips from Outnumbered is funny. C'mon, watching a child asking her parents if she can have a nit as a pet... and the mother trying to talk her daughter out of it... it's funny. Ah well. If I can't sleep tonight, expect another blogpost in the night. Balls.

Golden Balls is on now. Joy. There's nothing like four people sreaming and shouting at eachother, trying to convince eachother they're more trustworthy than the next person...

Also, another shaite plea to ask if you could go onto one of my older posts (I think it was three posts past...) and comment on my RCT designs. They'll probably won't be used. Probably 'won't represent the youth of RCT' or some pompus bullshite that's used these days by people too fucking scared to be different and not use Comic Sans as a title. Yeah, not sure what's wrong with me... I think it's the lack of Guitar Hero...

But yeah, if you fancy it, please visit my other post (which is here), going onto the links on there and telling me what they think of the designs, I'll take your opinions on-board and be grateful. However you spell that word.

Oh, how I despise the tellie in the daytime... I can't wait for the twentieth now. At least then I'll probably see one or two people then... oh, and the joys of seeing how shaite I done in my exams. Oh, happy days.

- Fin.

Reasons - Why My Ex-Wife Left Me... Part One.

I just realised whatever font I put on as I write, it'll only get overwritten by the preset (which I believe is Tahoma?).

Oh, I'm going to be an arse to your pixel-absorbing eyes. I've thought of a series of blog postings that will end when I actually have a social life. If you haven't guessed yet, they'll be called 'Reasons'.

As you can guess, this first post will be all about the acheivements I, er.... well... achieved... in the past couple of days...

Point One - (se)X Box 360.

Yeah, it's the first point. Why, I hear your online-telepathy skills cry? Well, the first thing is that I meantioned 'achievements' in a sentence or two ago. Secondly, I've been on it much more than I have during school terms. Thridly, I've kinda gone overboard with Guitar Hero. Next point.

Point Two - Guitar Zero.

Yeah, I'm as imaginative with point names as I am with begining of sentences for the points. Anyways, today I completed Guitar Hero: Smash Hits on guitar. Yes, to add to the sadness, it was on expert. In addition, and the (sadly) high point of my day, I completed Raining Blood (by Slayer) AND Through The Fire And Flames (DragonForce-ery) on Expert. Fuck aye and a packet o' crisps. That might mean I have a good chance of doing those songs on Guitar Hero III, once I have a playable disk. But I'll be honest, the versions of Raining Blood and ...Fire And Flames are easier on GH:Smash Hits than on it's older brother. So, is that a hollow victory for me? Knowing not only that I completed them both (four and three stars to their respected songs) on Expert, but the fact that all my friends and everyone reading this will think I'm a sad child with no life?

Now, I believe you're getting why my blog post name is what it is...

Point Three - Breaking News.

If your wondering why it's called that. Let me tell you a little story. You know all about my work experience with ProMo Cymru, right? And that weekend up in Llangollen or some place like that (I'm not being funny when I say that, I just keep forgetting if it's Llangollen, Llandudno or some other place that starts with Llan)? Well, on the final night, we had a task. Y'know the one, when you have to make a parachute thing to help make an egg fall from a great height without it breaking.

All we had ('cause we were in groups, I had a good group, to be fair) was an egg (obvliously), some straws, sticky tape, newspaper, two balloons and the bag that held them all in. I had the odd thaught of sticking the egg into one of the balloons. Someone else thought about sticking the egg-balloon into another balloon. Then someone else thought about the whole interior design of the bag (it was lovely, we had a feature wall and everything). Then, before the drops, we had to think of a name. and bare in mind, during the last workshop all I did was doodle on a peice of paper and think of a shaite opening line for the 'seeking work' section for the Clic website (if you must know, it was 'The journey to your dream job begins with a failed application form'... yeah, it's shaite, I know). They boys who I was in the eggscapade (get it? Escapade? Is that even a proper word?) was thinking of some names, can't remember any really. Maybe 'Da Bomb' was one of them. I just looked at the contraption that we made, and had one thought...

'That's the reason my ex-wife left me'.

They laughed. At me, I guess. Don't blame them.

But, they went with it. And needless to say, the beast was stunned (er... got all Tenacious D on you then...) when we realised our egg was free to become my breakfast on a plate and not on the pavement (I joke, I joke. There weren't any pavements where we were really).

Point Four - On The Road Again...

The last thing to add to this 'Reasons...' post. Recently all I can think of when I try to think of an original riff on the guitar (or bass, don't forget that beast) could be classed as 'middle-of-the-road'. Y'know the type, the type of music Take That or Westlife would write...

Actually, I'll take the Westlife thing back, they don't write anything, all they do is sit on seats, singing. But, you have to give it to them, once the key change comes into play, they do make an impressive move from the seats. But forget Westlife... I wish I could...

But anyways, I just can't seem to get rid of this thing. And no, I don't mean Westlife. Actually, I do, kind of. 'Cause I want to write (good) rock songs, be that grunge, punk, bluesy, or (if it's possible) funk/soul rock. I'm not bothered writing solos, just good riffs that people might (at the least) think is 'not bad, for a beginner'. The only problem is, two or three of the riffs I have made up have this hippie-punk fusion to it, if you know what I mean. I can't write slow songs, and when I do they have a bad dose of Take That-ititus. Any blues riff I think of just sound like a pile of shaite. Er, I think I'm struggling. I may create a new MySpace to show people my 'creations', just because I want to have some feedback on what people like/dislike of my midi babies, and/or for people to hear what I've done, and write lyrics for them (I'd be so luck). I won't make a proper profile though. I'll wait until I actually start a band that'll make some music. Which will hopefully be before I leave secondary education for good. =).

Well, that shall be it for the time being. If you have been offended by anything in this post, then be offended. =). Trust me, there's worse things to bitch about than a simpleton blogging his way to certain critisism for more than his spelling mistakes.

- Fin. =).

What Happens When You Pour Detol Into A Yakult?...

I lied... I only lasted four days (ish) without possessing the pixels of your monitor last.

Well, it's a couple of days in to the school holidays now, and to be fair I've acutally done something. I know, I'm shocked too. Well, even though it's just a song I made up... it's actually three and a half minutes long... it's the most productive I've been in a summer holidays ever. That's well radical. Maybe. Anyways, it's also carries another achievement for me, it's the first one that's fully an acoustic song... apart from the distorted guitar doing the solo. And that's another thing, it's the first solo that I might be able to actually play it! And if you've heard my rendition of Dido's 'No Angel' recreated to 80's Rock for my Music Tech coursework, you'll know how out-of-place it is, well, the tapping part is anyways. Anyways, there's a downfall to it, it also holds a real pop feel. Y'know, something Take That might bring out, without the solo, obvliously. Please correct me if I've spelled obvliously wrong either time I wrote it.

Also, I've nearly changed my mind on what song I'll do for my A level coursework in Music Tech from Stone Sour's 'Through Glass' to 'Today' by Smashing Pumpkins - and I just had the random thaught of the words 'Smashing Pumpkins' look really cool in this font. The vocals aren't too adventurous, drums seem do-able, the guitars are relatively simple (though I can't do the solo, man I is shit on guitar), and the bass is easy (er, Billie Jean's bassline is harder than this song, now that's saying something). A couple of problems, mind...

The first one is, I've only got one out of the four acoustic instrument out of the original song, which is an acoustic guitar for the verses, and well althrough the song. If I do 'Today', then I have an idea to jump over this three-storey hurdle. That is, the use of a piano, a violin..... and a harp. Yes, a harp. How stupid would any harpist look at you with if you ask them to do the main riff of 'Today' for eight bars. They'd laugh in your face (which, I'm expecting). Maybe same for piano, well and for violin. 'Cause with the violin, I'm only going to use it for the second verse. But, then again, they will all count as acoustic instruments. Another problem though... does anyone know how to record a harp? I mean, do you place the mic close to the strings, the soundboard (is it even called that?) or somewhere else? How many mics am I supposed to use to record the harp? Yeah, you can tell I thaught this through... but anyways. Anybody who could help me with this (either you can play the violin, or know how to record a harp), then feel free to tell me. =). T'would be great, butt.

Er. Nothing else really. I've gone a little bit further into Prototype. Its safe to say that I am rubbish at that game, the only thing I'm good at is running up walls and consuming people.... man, that's fun. Oh yeah, I've also been overdosing on That Mitchell And Webb Look. I've only known about it like, a week ago. Thank fuck for YouTube.

Well, this is finito for another round.

G'night, dude.

PS - Dara O'Briain is brilliant at stand-up. Period. =).

In Science And In Medicine. I Was A Stranger, You Took Me In...

Crunchtime.

Final Stage - Another One Bites The Dust.

Yeah, so it's officially arived. Now all's I have to do is wait until the twentieth of August to receive my two science A Level results from school, which'll be open at like, eight, nine-ish. Not forgetting the Music Tech one, which I'll have access to at six in the morning of the same day (digital, that's edexcel for ya). Then after that it'll be a shorter wait for the first friday of September (which I think might be my sister's birthday...), so we can return to school. I'm not even going to go into the whole 'why on a friday' thing... grrrr.

Today weren't bad. Only had one lesson, which was twenty minutes of Physics. Then since nobody went to Music Tech, that was free (like it wasn't since the exams). Managed to do a bit for my personal statement. And won a game of Shithead. Brilliant.

The end-of-year service was shocking, mind. First off, no Welsh anthem at the end? Please. That's like, unnatural. Well, thank fuck there wasn't much singing, compared to the Christmas service. Secondly, no news on who one the 'best house of the year'? That's outragous! Hehe. Well, we all know Dafydd would've ended up as low as Paris Hilton's lingerie... while Owain or Iolo would've been as high as Obama's approval ratings. Or is that the other way around?... We'll never know...

Came home early from school, which is a bummer. Well, for me anyways. But, on the plus side, I got myself an awesome game. PROTOTYPE, BABY!! =). Man, the main character must be the most fun main character to play as in a game... it's like he can't die from jumping off a skyscraper, yet five bullets from an M4 and half a rocket could end you. Man, that's manic. I advice you to get it. Pronto. It does remind me of something like Devil May Cry-meets-Spiderman. Now, that's a good mix.

And that's it for the five a week postings.... for now.

Might miss out for a while. Or wait until one of the blogs I'm following post a new post...

For the time being, and as a member of Six-one for the last time.

Nacht.

- Fin.

Surrender. Surrender. But Don't Give Yourself Away...

Two days to go.

Stage three - Personal (Under)Statement.

And yet I haven't been banned from Blogger for posting useless posts... nice.

Nothing much happened today. It was just another day of nothingness until I had a lesson. Yeah, that's happiness for you.

I tried to make a personal statement for my UCAS thing... I'm going to be so bad at it. Why? Well for one the only thing that links to the course that I want to do is the fact that I can play bass guitar up to GreenDay standard. Whoa, that's going to reel the offers in. I might just give up on it and write it as if I was C3PO or something. 'Cause we're both alike... apart from the fact that he can speak many a language fluently and I can only manage English at key stage two standard. Yeah, that is what hardly going out does to you. =). But one thing's for sure, I really hope that the Atrium like me enough to lower my points needed from 300 to 60. And even then I'll need to work hard...

It was the same old song and dance today, apart from the fact some people went off to watch 'Harry Potter and the sixth year in a row that someone'll make a joke about a ginger having two friends'. Yes, that's the actual title of it. Well, no it's not. But it's the truth. Though I don't get this hairist view against gingers... there's worse people.... I mean, c'mon... people who dye their hair? Please.... *shifty eyes*.

That, was hysterical. If your comedy levels are between 'watching George Bush choking on a pretzel is humourous' and 'everything Boris Johnson says is like poetry in motion written by the Joker himself'.

Oh yeah, made myself look like a right digital cock this afternoon... not good...

Ah well, this is a short one, bit much like an average sixformer's attention span.... oh look, a bumble bee...

Anyways, a guess at tommorow's title might be something on the lines of 'Prototype Present'. Hopefully. I want that game. Looks dead cool, man.

C'ya, m'ladies.... or whatever your name is...

=).

Stay Cool. And Be Somebody's Fool This Year...

Four days to go.

Stage one - Sports Day, or 'the most excorsise most teenagers will have in months' day...

Well, it weren't bad, considering it was my last ever one. And what a way to sign out of it. Though I was on my feet since I got there, because I had to help out with the discus. That was like three hours. And yeah, I kinda made a mistake ranking a year on who was first and that... so yet again got attacked about it from the usual suspects (isn't that a band or something?), or should I say 'suspect'... Yeah, she's evil. And it pissed down too. All the other things (track and field) went to shelter, but not the discus-ians. Stood out there, four of us under a brolly ('twas me, Sarah, Rhi and Angharad, Kayleigh was bringing the discus back from whoever thrown it at the time...). To say the least, they had rather odd conversations... mainly about male teachers and cheesecakes (if I remember rightly... I wasn't consentrating much on the chatter...). Then, ASDA held host to us, as the ladies baught their dinner, until we returned to watch the relay races... and beleive me... if you sit next to Kayleigh and Sarah... bring earplugs... As they screamed 'GO DAFYDD' and that - oh yeah, I'm in Dafydd if you didn't know - I thaught I'd join in with my own bellows... such as 'Phones4U', 'If you fail, your out of the family', and as the race started, 'LEFT RIGHT LEFT RIGHT' ect.

Then, as the bellows from, well nearly everyone I was surrounded by, carried on, the head of our llys (the house for the non-Welshies) called for me and the screamers to the front of house (well, the front of the stand), for the simple fact is that they are the captains of Dafydd for something, and I was there out of luck. So yeah, every llys was standing in a row, the Dafyddians stood with Owain to our left and Hywel on the right. Someone from Hywel said 'yeah, Dafydd's won' or something on those lines. Our fellow neighbourhood chemistry teacher, otherwise known as ET (or Mr Thomas) broadcasted the final scores of the Sports Day, in alphabetical order. Great.

'Dafydd - pump cant nawdeg saith' (or 597).

So for every other llys, just as I've done for every other Sports Day and Eisteddfod I've attended, I raised my index finger, waiting to add another finger to it for Dafydd's final standings. It reached Iolo, and my index finger was, like me in my room, on it's own. Only two more llysoedd (houses) and we've won for the first time in twenty years. Whoa. Llywelyn's score was well under par to the others. Then ET decided to add more tension to the final Owain score... I'll say it in english now... saves on the translating...

'There's only one point seperating Dafydd and Owain for first place'.

Not something you want to hear when there's two really excited teenage girls standing next to you... I looked to my left slightly. I thaught, again Owain's won something. Yet, ET's drawn-out result was a shock, even if it wasn't for some people.

'Owain - Five hundred and ninety...... (waits ten seconds).... six'.

Yeah, Dafydd's won the Sports Day in 2009. The first time since 1989 (well, that's what I've been told anyways. Correct me if I am wrong. =D). RBJ looked gutted (by the way, if your reading this... hi dude! =D), but there's somethings you can't change. And then there's luck on Dafydd's part. While I've already seen certain Dafydd celebrations (well, it's just an update saying DAAAAFFYYYYYYYYYYYDD!!), I, on the other hand, will accept that we won, and be thankful Llywelyn, Hywel nor Iolo won. FUCK AYE. Er, anyroad. I bet you that Owain'll win the whole thing though, with Dafydd coming either second or third...

And I jsut realised this is ALL on SCHOOL. Bugger me...

Right, something unschoolie...

Ah! I know!

I completed Guitar Hero: Aerosmith today. Woop. The whole 31 tracks of it on Expert. There was only one song that I got four stars... the rest I managed five, with like, three or four FC's (if you ain't a GH person, FC is when you complete a song with no mistakes, no overstrumming and all that). And I only failed one song... yet the next time I played that song I managed to 5* it... odd. Ah well, that's my sadness possessing your monitor for roughly a thousand or so pixels... =). One thing I'll say about the new Guitar Hero games... it doesn't take a lot to tilt the plastic guitar to activate StarPower, unless your using the X-Plorer controller (oh yeah, I'm on the SexBox360). The X-Plorer looks the best by far, mind. Have always liked the alternative look, not the Les Paul, nor the SG, nor the Strat look.

Well, like the thaughts in my brain, the rain is plentiful, and even this is making me think. I mean, I stood in the bay window, thinking 'why can't I be like that?'. I wasn't sure what I meant at first, but the more I thaught about it the more I made up some pathetic reasoning for my thaught. Like, rain washes everything away, well it was like a river on the street, and was washing away stones at least. Why can't us humans do that? Why can't we just, wash away all the bad things and keep the good things? Would life be better if we could do it?... Ah yeah, I dunno...

Well. Tomorrow might be called 'Laptop Fatale' or some shaite thing. I guess this is post one of five of last week of school.

Good luck reading them.

- Fin.

Tell Me I'm The Only One. Tell Me There's No Other One...

Five days until the death of this school year... Such joys...

Yeah, started a post like that before... ah well. I have a thing for deja-vu things.

Well, I kinda know what university I want to go to now. The Atrium to study either Music Technology or Sound Technology. Or if possible both. 'Cause I want to do both live and studio work with music. So yeah, really doubt I'll get 300 points for it though. That's three B's, or an A, a B and a C (I think?). No way that's gonna happen. The only real chance I have of a B is in Chemistry, and that's if I really study for it. Physics, can't see myself have anything higher than a D, and with Music Tech, I have no idea. I'll be lucky to get a D in that also. So that's roughly 220 points, so where am I gonna find those other eighty points, eh? Lets hope they'd interview me and give me an offer of something like 180 points... yeah, I wish. I have no idea where else I would go if I didn't get into the Atrium, that is in Wales. I really can't be arsed to move out of Wales. Ah well, typical, eh? Can't be arsed to move out of Wales, ca'nt be arsed to go out and meet new people, can't be arsed to talk to some people... ah fuck it.

The cricket season's up and running (well, I think it has been for ages like). The first Ashes test match in Wales ever is just about wrapped up. I guess the Aussies won it in style. Makes me think about getting back into the whole cricket thing, but then again I was useless. And I got jipped for my bowling style. I mean, just because I might look like a morris dancer while I bowl doesn't make me shaite. The fact that I nearly always bowled wides makes me shaite. Get it right, dude. But anyways, expect the Aussies to win the Ashes, at least by two tests.

Well, about the last step to take before the final path of knowledge is about to be taken, or as you might call it 'the final week of year twelve'. Tomorrow, it's Sports Day. Oh lord, such a happy day. I am gonna go, just for the mere fact that I might actually not be the only one there form my year. And well, it's the final one I've ever have to go to (forcefully). Maybe I'll be forced to help someone write the times of runners, or measure how far the javelin was thrown or something or nothing. Tuesday, I guess nothing really is happening, same as Wednesday. Then Thursday, oh my, it's officially been called 'Dydd Hwyl'. Yes, 'Fun Day'. I bet it's going to end up a failure, though since I'll be in the Drama Studio, helping out with the technical side for the bands (see? work experience, butt). There's also going to be a talent contest... which will end up with a singer winning it as with nearly EVERY talent show (and yes, I am counting The X Factor). Grr. There should be a guitarist competing... which hopefully will win. Unless...... er, anyways... Then on Friday, it's just going to be a long service, I guess it's my final one also? Man, it's going to be a boring one, but I'll probably miss them in an odd way.

Er. I have also been crowned 'Most pathetic person' a second time running... I've got Guitar Hero:Aerosmith. Well, it was only like, ten quid. And yeah, it's not as bad as I thought it'll be. Yeah, it's only like fourty songs long, but it's not bad. Walk This Way's really good on Expert. That song's just cool anyways. And to add to that, I have Guitar Hero Smash Hits too. It's gonna take a good price for me to get GH:Metallica though. And then I'd be getting it for the songs that aren't Metalica's. Yeah. Might get GH:Van Halen when it's released also, that's gonna be good. Well good.

And the news just said England managed to get a draw? WHAT? Now, that surprised me. Ah well. so far it's nil-nil in the Ashes series... wonder who'll be the first side to burn the other at the crease....

Yeah, it's finnished. I'm going to avoid Facebook now.

Goodbye, dudes.

Please Do Not Swear...

I'm a bit gutted...

Not only that this is my second post in a day...

But I had an awesome idea for a story, I just cannot exacute it.

The idea was, this girl (who I called Sandra for some reason) was a fanatic of Big Brother, and lived her life as if she was either in there, or being either Davina or the Jordie bloke who commentates. Then she gets married and all hilarity was supposed to be unleashed for your ammusement. But as many things in my life, it failed. Badly.

Ah well, I'll try to do some sort of short story soon. Hopefully. Not like you'll read it. It'll be crap like Dai Gi Bach...

Also, I would like to appologise for the recent wave of rather depressing posts. Don't know what's come over me. Hopefully that will be over soon.

This is a short one. Like me. =).

Nacht.

Blank Page.

Well, at least you wish it was...

I've already posted more posts than last year. I think this'll be my tenth this year. So I'm guessing there's going to be at least thirty by the time September arrives. Lucky, lucky you...

Well, there's nothing really to this post. This is just basically talking to myself via the internet. That said, I haven't had a full blown conversation on any instant messenger service or social networking sites for about three, four months now. Most probably longer. Fuck it. And talking about fucking it...

There's an advert on now for Match.com, saying that there is too many 'hot new women', and they need more men to balance the levels out. To be fair, how many 'hot new women/men' do you expect from a bloody internet dating agency? If they were hot, fit, whatever you moderners call it these days, wouldn't they either have a partner, or actually go outside to find someone? I've never been on any type of dating site (I'd get the moderators banning me for being a prick most probably), but wouldn't they be filled with sad, pathetic loners that are too lazy to meet new people? I don't know, I just don't understand those type of sites... Actually this links good with my next thing I just thought of...

Facebook. Recently I have greatly started to hate it. This is for many reasons. Actually this is not just Facebook, it's to all social networking sites... and MSN....

Well, the main reason is that, well it's pretty awkward for me to describe it really... I'll just have to put it hazily, if that's a word... In school, or if I actually went out to places, I'm more than happy to see some people, even if I don't look happy. I could look like half of my face is frozen, no emotion, yet inside I could think 'Woo'. Yes, I would be THAT ecstatic. But yet, the moment I see that they are on some site, I just feel all wrong. Not because I'd rather bury my face in sulfuric acid than talk to them online, it's because I know that (most probably), they feel that way towards me. Either because I annoy them too much for multiple reasons (my crap guitar/bass/drum playing, or I go on about GH too much, or the fact that I just come up with things they don't like), or they just can't stand me. Don't ask me why I think like this, well, at least not on here. Maybe it's something to do with what happened like a year ago. But then I think, why should it? Ah well. Life's a bitch, I guess...

Another thing I'm not fussed about these sites is, those pathetic pictures where someone tags people on who they think people are in a group of friends. It's just annoying. I've somehow managed to be tagged in these things... not sure if I should be happy or nappy (y'know, not happy...). In one, I'm 'the crazy fuck', in another, 'the downer', and then 'the one that's up to no good' (off memory, like). As you can see, there wasn't the one they really wanted to put me as, either 'the emo in denial' (which, I am not either emo or in denial), 'the one who asks randomly pointless questions', or 'most likely to die a virgin'. Ah, such happiness. I'm also waiting for a political one. With people from parliment on there, and I bet someone'll tag me as Gordon Brown or someone from the BNP....

Also, the bloody status updates. Why? The only time I've updated my status is to tell people of my blog, yet not sure if anyone actually has read it. I'm only sure that one person has read two of my posts (because he's commented on them, thanks RBJ. =)... ). But when someone posts an update just because they've enjoyed their dinner in Nando's or wherever these moderners eat their food, does it really matter? I'm just waiting for one of my friends to post an update saying 'just inhaled from a bong. t'wasn't weed, was actually a peanut butter sarnie, it was nuts, lol'. Grr. And another thing....

Fucking 'lol'. And 'rofl'. They fucking lie all the time. No, you aren't 'rofl'ing if you are typing at that moment. And the fact people actually say these things in real life? It's just to show how socialising has changed. I'm glad texts or any shite modern things weren't in Shakespearian times. Y'know, 'Hey bbz, gonna fake mi deth 2nite lol, 1 way 2 get away from rents, dunt worry ill b up 4 BB l8r rofl'. Guess what play that would've been and you will get free oxigen for a month. Or, what if Lady Macbeth had Twitter... 'Cant get blood off hands, going to use PalmOlive...'. Yes, I have probably gone slightly overboard. But the fact is this, why must we abbreviate every single thing? Lol, rofl, omfg, soad, it's going overboard. And yes, this does make me a hypocrite. I've done it myself, when I use GH instead of Guitar Hero. But I prefer a sentance to be full of words that aren't abbrieviated (and that are spelled properly), I even write numbers as words also. It just seems right. If I am using a mathmatical formulae, then yes, I will use numbers. But if it is online, or writing a number in a sentance, then I will use the word instead. Trash me, I'm not bothered if you do. It's my way of thinking.

I'll finnish soon enough, I've taken up too much space from the internet as it is. My friends are starting bands with eachother/people in their friend circle, yet the bands are either metal or scene (I think anyroad). I too would like to start a band, a punk-esque band, that have GreenDay (Dookie years), Nirvana and bands like those as influences. I don't want to do it for success, money, or anything like that. I just want to try and start something that will produce (hopefully) great music, regardless of if there are lyrics or not. I don't know if I am alone in this, most probably I am. Ah well, if nobody is, I could always try and do something in free lessons in school... well, though we've only got ten days left in that shitehole...

I should piss off now, I've seemed to given you a migrane.

Bye.

"One Baby To Another Says, I'm Lucky To Have Met You"

I shall be frank, well to be fair it's better than being Gareth... damn, I despise the name...

To be fair like, I'm starting to take a real disliking to modern life... It's like, nearly everything these days is about looks, or things that's happening this minute or what happened three days ago, because it was so hilarious/shocking/epic. To be fair, who really cares in the long run? Just because you went out on a night on the tiles, doesn't mean it's good to brag at the fact that 'I had three Carlings and was only slightly hammered'. Yeah, like drinking pissloads of toxins makes you a God amongst men all of a sudden. I can't really imagine, milleniums ago, that stone age dudes were bragging about how many times they had sex with their partners, or how many partners they've had. Big fucking deal.

'Ah, your just jealous because you're still a virgin'....

Yeah, and? Sorry, that was a thing someone said to me on the bus. She was in year seven. That's like twelve, thirteen years old. And she's trying to make me feel bad because I haven't bowed down to peer pressure and bonk the nearest harlet who'd give blowjobs for a packet of Wotsits. I know, I'm going to sound pathetic, but I want my first time to be special, well... with someone I actually care about, be that this year or in ten, twenty years time. How would you feel if you popped your cork for the first time, realising three days before that, the person your cork was popped by had some sort of desiese that made you infertile, or worse could kill you, and you only realised that after you had a test before you tried to start a family with someone you love? Yeah, that's a nice thing to say to your future partner. "Sorry love, no kids for us. I let my shaft rule my head and now I have an uncurable desiese that will eventually kill me in these next few months. On the plus side, you'll get most of my life earnings because you have nice tits"... and no, I'm not like that. I don't mind saying it, or being like that. I hate it though when people try to put me down because of it... or because it's for religious reasons...

If you are religious, please understand that this next paragragh or two is only MY OPINION. If you go all 'BLAH BLAH BLAH YOUR WRONG INNEH BECAUSE GOD IS REAL BECAUSE WE WOULDN'T BE HERE IF HE WEREN'T', you just prove how blinkered your vision is. Because there is more prove to it, I believe that the big bang theory happened, though I wonder what made it. Was it some clouds of gas that existed there before the big bang randomly exploded? Did God (or whoever you believe in) set everything ready, and just pressed a 'generate' button on his version of Windows (or Mac, depending on your outlook on life)? Or did some mythical creature randomly light a fart and aimed it at a blank canvas? See, nobody really knows, innit? And talking about God and that, and I admit I will sound like a pathetic child for this, I don't believe in the same God that Christians, or any religion, does. That said, I do actually believe that something is up there. Yes, I may call him/her God, but he is (again with the patheticness) my God. He's (I'll call God a male for the duration now, less typing, though I believe God can be either male or female) not this ideal being that has not sinned, lived or died. He's this real person, not really having a face that I've seen before (let me guess what your thinking "Gareth's a nut, I knew it", I'm not... much of one anyways), that's actually been on earth, actually seen the same views that I can/will see, even inhaled the same air as I will. Someone who actually has made many more mistakes than you and I will ever do. A human that's done all of this, yet with none of this 'saviour' stuff. And someone who doesn't need to be worshipped endless times a year. You might think now, "That's a bit lazy, Ga", well no it's not. Well, I don't believe so. Just because that if I worshipped God (I'm on about all types now) in a different way than what is expected, then I will be shunned for all eternity and a half. Maybe this is my way of worshipping, maybe actually being alive is worship in itself.

And, like many people in the world, I have majorly contradicted myself, and, unlike many people, I shall admit that with all the strenght that I have (though that's not much, so text'll have to do). Because I accept all the stuff scientists said. I admit that the universe is ever expanding, that the mere fact of us being alive is a lottery that we won. Fuck, I'm bloody taking Chemistry and Physics, for crying out loud! Also, if someone comes up to me, talking about religion, and talking about why they believe in their religion, I will happily listen. But the moment you try to force your beliefs onto me, or try to convert me into your way of thinking, then I instantly shut down all emotion and basically ignore you, not taking anything in. I'm more than happy to understand other cultures more, and that has no word of a lie in that last comment.

That's the religion bullshit done with for now, jsut got a couple of things I feel like I've got to say....

First thing is, basically it about food, and the reasons why I don't eat the 'average amount of food for my age'. Basically, I just see it as a resourse. Food is some items that must be comsumed to gain energy, nutrience and any other helpful stuff. Though I don't see the point in eating food for the sake of it. Before, when I was talking to my mother, she said "you're just like my grandfather". Like me with a pastie a day, he used to have the same meal for years on in. "I asked him why, he replied 'I don't live to eat, I eat to live'", or something along those lines. And that's exactly it. I must eat to stay alive. If we didn't have to eat to live, I wouldn't eat. Or eat as little as possible. Again, this might sound pathetic to you. To be fair, if it does, I'm not bothered. It's my way of thinking, at least we have that these days, innit?

Also, I want to apologise. Apologise to basically everyone. I know I can be a prick at times (at times? And the rest...), and I can honestly say that I don't mean to. I guess I'm slightly illiterate in the social scene (I couldn't think of a word other than illiterate there). Also, the fact that, y'know, just go quiet for no reason whatsoever. It pisses me off to. Lastly, I'm sorry for the fact that I may say sorry over and over. I do feel that I have to constantly apollogise for everything I do/say/think/feel. That's it for the apologies things.

That pretty much covers a lot of things that's built up in me for a long time, apart from one major thing. Though I doubt that'll never come to life online, only by word to someone I feel I can trust them. Only thing really to say about it the title. It's the first line to a Nivarna song, called 'Drain You'. It's a brilliant song from a band that achieved so much, even after they disbanded.

Yep, that's it now. I jsut realised the paragraph that I was apologising in reads like a suicide note. Shit. There is no way I am going to commit suicide. Trust me.

That's all folks.

C'ya.

If Only...

Ahhh...

You might not have guessed it now, but I have an odd thing about this font, Trebuchet. Odd fact, did you know that there is a unit in Age Of Empires II called the Trebuchet? Yes, it is a siege unit that is built at castles and have great damage and range abilities, yes. It is also....zzzzzzzzzz.... yeah Ga, your boring...

Yes, Trebuchet. It's like one of my most used fonts, joined with Verdana. They are like the ugly sisters from Cinderella, if they had plastic surgery. Comic Sans, on the other hand.... jeez... that's like the prostitute of typography. It's overused, overrated, and, like me, fucking ugly and soul-less. It's got less charisma than Gordon Brown. Now, that's saying something. Yet, it's popular with the kids. Maybe because it has the word "comic" in it. Ah well. What can I do about that?...

One thing that's confused me though, it's why have I started with talk of fonts. What sort of person does that? I mean, I have to get a life soon... man...

Actually, I think I'm going to end it soon. Such an eventful blog...

Well, on the theme of text and fonts, I've gots meself a new program. =). Texter, it is. It like changes the text you typed to a text you've already programed it to turn to with a simple press of the tab button. I mean, I spent like a good few hours typing in 'donkey' and then the tab button just to see the lyrics to Moon Chavs popping up each time. Ah, bliss.

Er... other news in the world of me?... Not really. Other than I STILL can't do a fully completed run of The Middle on Guitar Hero: World Tour. I mean, the verses, I'm fine. Chorus, I'm cool. The bloody solo, I start off like 'whey', but end up strumming too slow on the fast part. DAMN YOU RIGHT HAND OF SLOTH!! Yeah, I know I'm a tad sad. Though Pull Me Under is a slight let down in the last song category. I mean, GH2, Jordan's a bitch. DragonForce's song just took the piss. I failed both songs on expert, with my virtual bassist laughing at me. Pull Me Under, on the other hand, was piss. And this is from the person who has a touch-and-go thing with passing Sweet Home Alabama. Damn that last solo. But anyways. That's the first song I've ever gotten over 500,000 points for a song. Woot woot for me. Cocked up like mad on the solo, though 'twas too short of a solo for my liking. But, there's a shining beakon (if that's how you spell it) with one aspect of GH:WT....

If critics say 'there's no part of Guitar Hero nor Rock Band that will give positive results in real life'... they haven't had a good bang... on the drums.
I mean, let me say first that I'm no drummer on any music game. The hardest song I've done is... well Hot For Teacher on Expert... but properly it's like Beat It on Hard. Though now, I'm like slightly on a higher level than a total crapbag on real drums. It's kinda made me want to learn the drums now. Though for some reason I don't want to become a singer just because I can do No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn on Expert (even if there's a slightly loud fan next to me.... what?). I fail big time on vocals. Seriously, I can just about scrape a five star performance on Rebel Yell.... on Easy. EASY! Bloody holes of Satan's tearducts! Note to self, never sing, ever, and never try to make funny sentences anymore...

Right, that'll be me off. I see some bourbons with my name on it... ah, the joys of Sharpie pens...

Nacht. =)..

"I'm Playing With My Nipples..."

So.... it's been a while...

Can't remember (or be arsed to look at) the last post I, well... posted...

It's mid February (I always have trouble spelling that word...). And after the snow of last week, that stopped me from getting to school (stupidly, in my opinion), it's bloody half term. HALF BLOOMING TERM. And no, it's not so good I said it twice. It's like, wasting five days, when we should be studying for A-levels (well, on that week I was supposed to be on a skills course), Grrr. Ah well... still gots me EMA... =).

I suppose another good thing is that they cancelled the Eisteddfod this year in Rhydfelen, because of the snow stopping school. I'm rather glad that we managed to avoid making utter pillocks of ourselves (or should I say myself...) in front of the whole school. But then I think, ''balls, I've missed the chance of making an utter prick of myself...'' Ah well, there's always next year.

Well, the year's been alright (I suppose) so far. Nawt major (unless you consider me breaking the high-E string on my guitar as the biggest sin since sliced bread became an innuendo) happened so far. Bass's going well (much better than I thought). I can do Sweet Child O' Mine (woo), and the intro to Impulse (y'know, the one off GH3). And I'm getting better at using my fingers... take that what you will.... =). You know what I mean! Guitar's not that bad either. No blazing solos though, but that's not what I started guitar for. Playing the rhythm for 'Pretend We're Dead' is good enough for me. Oh yeah.

Oh yeah, got myself a laptop. Well, it's more like a 'blanket-top', as I'm in bed. But yeah. I'm officially mobile... in a way.

Work experience went well too. I've also wrote two pieces for thSprout.co.uk, though it's a website about events and news in Cardiff and I am a resident in RCT. But meh, it's practice for the RCT site I'd be helping out with. Have no idea when though. Oh yeah, and I've got Rock Band 2 now. Their version of 'Go Your Own Way' is shaite compared to GH:WT's. The outro solo is slightly on the amazing side, in my opinion. Yey, I have an opinion. And the outro is better on 'Livin' On A Prayer' on GH:WT. It's because it sounds like it should be that. Yeah... I know I'm odd.

Right, I'll be off. I have some tea I must consume before ManU foul another ram...

As they say on QI... "I will come in any trousers I like"....

Ah, that's nice....

Dai Gi Bach.

''And now, a poem about men...''

Anticipation rained down on the audience of friends, family, the neighbors cat and a teddy called Felix. They, apart from the cat and the teddy, sat on the edge of their seats.

''BASTARDS!! BLOODY BASTARDS!!...''

Who knew she was not okay about her partner, going off with a transvestite?

Lavender, who was called 'Lavvey' by many a bully, was not the type of girl who bellowed 'bastard' every single minute of the day. Nearly seventeen, who knew her older boyfriend would ditch her in the toilet? As she ended her poem with a large scream, in which the word was a cockney slang for 'James Blunt', she ran out of the room, went upstairs and listened to the symphony of metal. This was also called Metalica by many.

''WHY DID HE BREAK MY HEART?!?! WHY!!!!??'', a scream shattered the deathly silence left by her in the front room.

'Well, it's a right shock to me, this is. Who'd've thought Lavvey had so much rage in her body?'' the grandmother thought out loud. ''I mean, it's not a type of thing not to be angry about, isn't it? I mean, if Charles here fancied the women with an extra bulge in their trousers, I'd be pretty pissed off too!!''

''Mother!''

''I'm only saying, love! Only saying! Well, Jesus Jane! You really take after my father, aye. He always talked posh like you. But me? Mother's girl, I am. Well, was. Dead now, isn't she? If only that ambulance didn't have to come out to the neighbors', to get that bugger Winston to the ol' folks home...''

''Mother! Can't you see dear Lavender is heartbroken? And all you can do is make light conversation?'' It was true, Jane was only like her mother in name alone. Though, it does get confusing when there are two people named Jane in the house.

''What do you expect me to do? Go out there, find Tim, and kick him in shitless?'' she stared at her daughter, then said, majestically ''I, am a retired woman. I deserve to be treated with respect. And that includes my opinions, right love?''

''Oh, mother!!''

''Don't you 'oh, mother' me!''

''Well'', Jane was improvising, she finally lost control of any sane conversation. ''I know! Michael! Do your speech your going to do about recycling batteries! You need the practice!'' The crowd, although not optimistic about hearing about the possibilities of batteries, preferred that to three hours of watching Gran's old videos in the butchers.

''Well, if I must...''. Michael walked to the front of the audience. He was the appendix of the family. He's there, but nobody really knows why. ''Ahem, ladies and gentlemen... and, Felix...''

Jane stumbled out of the room, rested her weary body on the chair lift, thinking on how her lovely, quirky daughter could turn out so posh.

''Did you know batteries are the servants of the technological world? They only do two things in life - they either live. OR THEY DIE...'' If anyone needed any proof on why Michael had an overactive imagination, this was it.

Jane, after thinking of what a weirdo Michael is, walked into poor Lavender's room, sat right beside the crying girl to comfort her.

''Hey, Lav. Don't cry, love. It's not that bad, this. You could've done a whole lot better than that, that Tim bloke!!''

''He said he loved me...' muttered Lavender into a shirt Tim had left one day after sleeping over there.

''Well, you can't trust men, can you? Can't trust anyone whose hair and eyebrows didn't match. You never caught a glimpse of his pubes, did you? I bet they didn't match either, that's what you get when you give your heart to a man named Tim''.

''I gave him my flower! He took my flower and shattered it to pieces!!''

''Is that what they call it these days...''

Lavender, sitting up on her bed, rested her head on her pillow as she looked, aimlessly through the window.

''Look, Lavvey. Remember the first time you went out with this Tim? I mentioned about all this shagging process, didn't I?''

Lavender chuckled. ''Mention it? I bet you made diagrams and all!''

''Well, I couldn't bring them over, couldn't I? You know what your mam's like. She thinks bondage is a way to make sure your tiles don't fall off the wall. But, let me tell you about Dai. Oh, yes. I called him Dai Gi Bach, y'know. Because his bollocks looked like two paw prints.'' Lavender's frown turned upside down, and gave a little giggle. ''Don't you laugh! Best buggering I ever had, from Dai Gi Bach! Pity he died. Would've liked to tug him off one more time before Death came, like...''

''GRAN!! How old are you??''

''Just because I'm nearly ninety eight, doesn't mean I can't suck a boy off like the rest of the slags on the street! Remember, Lav. I've been in three home-made movies, I have yes. But, oh. Dai Gi Bach was one shag to remember. Was Tim?''

''GRAN!!'' Lavender was really shocked. Whilst many grans will complain about how much bread has gone up, Jane would go on about teaching the whores in Cardiff how to give a proper one for more money. Lavender laughed at the question. ''He didn't, take my flower... he, sort of touched it...''

''Ah, a bit of fingering never hurt anyone! Well, apart from my cousin. Ah, she was a right harlot. She always did the spitroast at least twice a week. She even let my ol' boyfriend, Harry, park in her back alley! She was a right bitch...''

''What did you do, gran?'' Lavender was happier now, nobody can be upset when there's a gran like this around the place.

''Well, what can you do about it? Nothing. Apart from clamping nipple clamps onto her tits and connect them to an electricity pylon. She's a father now. Well, she was born a girl, then after the whole 'tit-to-electricity' thing, she turned into a man. Then, a year later, wanting to change back to womanhood, then another year later, she wanted to go back to a man! Typical woman!'' Lavender was in hysterics at this point. ''Oh, the real reason she had to turn back to a woman is because she got pregnant as a woman, all those spitroasts I expect. When she was giving birth, she was Steven, a bloke, like. Then, I remember being in the hospital, the doctors said to her ''the good news is, you have a healthy baby boy. The bad news is your cock has been blown off''.

Lavender, seemingly on a lifetime supply of laughing gas, composed herself, and looked into her wacky gran's eyes.

''You see, Lav. It doesn't matter what infertile thing that enters you. It's the fertile things you have to be weary of. I mean, God didn't put men on earth just to fuck constantly! Vibrators can't mow the lawn, you know. But, being serious now. Don't cry over him. It's his fault he'd rather a transvestite to a beautiful girl like you. Just be glad you don't have the cock. Must be a nightmare to run with that. I mean, if your boxers are loose, it'll be banging your legs all the time. And if that makes you have a hard one, then you'll be forever horny, wouldn't you?''

''Mother! I do not expect my daughter to hear about these things at such a young age!!'' Jane Junior eavesdropped on the conversation, thinking, but was upmost horrified at the mention of spitroasts. She was a vegan, after all. ''Lavender, come with me. Your salad's getting wet''.

''That's the only thing o'mine that WILL get wet for the moment...'' Lavender whispered to herself.

As they walked downstairs, Michael was finishing his second speech, and beginning his third.

''And that's how I will be the first person to touch MC Hammer. Next, I will give my theory on the man who invented fire...''