Sunday, 28 February 2010


They say I made the moon
Everything was in the dark
No memories at all
Just a tiny, freezing wind in my back
As I was sitting there
Singing a song they had never heard before
Suddenly, a voice told me:
"Keep on singing, little boy
And raise your arms in the big black sky
Raise your arms the highest you can
So the whole universe will glow"


My first vision was a bush growing down the river
And I couldn't stop crying
Something was missing
I realized I was in love with a voice
I called it, again, and again
But all I heard was the echo in the light

I love m83.

Saturday, 27 February 2010


I got up ridiculously late today. Not for any particular reason. I mean, I was up late last night but I wasn't doing anything of particular significance such as partying 'til the early hours. (Maybe if I had been partying you would get some interesting blogs...) No, I was playing Final Fantasy IV and watching Peep Show.

Having my breakfast at 12.30 PM was a bit surreal. Even my flatmates who had gone out last night were already well into their day when I had just started mine.

I then proceeded to alternate between work and procrastination. I used to be able to tackle my work head on. Not anymore. It appears that unless I have a deadline tomorrow, I tend to just beat around the bush, watching the clock tick by, until I even start making moves towards getting anything done.

I had a massive craving for Farley's rusks today. Yes, those things that babies eat. So when I went to Tesco this evening I thought I'd buy some. I managed to get a box of 18 for a quid. That, my friends, is a RESULT.

I also grabbed a copy of NME for the first time in what must be a year. It was between that and a copy of Front which had a very attractive naked female on the front. NME just tipped it though because it came with a free CD and a Gorillaz poster which now resides on my door. I don't know what the fact that I chose a free CD and a poster over a naked woman says about me. Whatever it is, it can't be good.

Since reading Q, I've found NME to be trying a bit too hard to appeal to the 'cool' readers by writing about the 'cool' bands, even if it means stooping to the level of outright dissing bands it used to praise. For instance it called White Lies an, and I quote, 'underwhelming shitheap'. Bastards. Oh well, the CD and poster were enough for me, despite the shoddy music journalism..

Friday, 26 February 2010

Worst. Film. Ever.

Right, I realise I may be a bit slow in discovering this but I have just stumbled upon a film called 'The Room'. It is written, produced and acted in by a French guy named Tommy Wiseau. I have only seen four clips from the film but it is being branded the worst film ever.

Here is a line taken from an imdb review of the film:

This film is like getting stabbed in the head.

Says it all really, doesn't it?
Additionally, I checked out the trivia and goofs sections of the imdb page and found out the following:

Trivia: The film was shot simultaneously on 35 mm film and high-definition video. Tommy Wiseau was confused about the differences between the formats, so he used both cameras on the same mount. Wiseau purchased the cameras instead of renting them as film productions usually do.

OK, so the producer is clearly a dumbass... Surely anyone worth his salt in the film industry would know that.
Goofs: Plot holes: In an early scene, halfway through a conversation about planning a birthday party for Johnny, Claudette off-handedly tells Lisa: "I got the results of the test back. I definitely have breast cancer." The issue is never revisited during the rest of the film.

Breast cancer!? Sounds like quite a significant plot element don't ya think!?

Due to the above statements from imdb my curiosity has been triggered. I am now actively seeking out a way to watch this movie, even if I have to buy it. 

So, without further ado, here are some clips of this monumental film, The Room (2003).

Check out the brilliant acting in this first clip. The music really compliments the violence of these two gargantuan men... The whole way through this clip I was thinking, what are these kids doing hanging with this old French dude?

This second clip is quite possibly the worst scripted scene ever captured on film.

Clip 3 sees a compelling performance from Mr Wiseau, "You are tearing me apart Lisa!"
Again an example of awful dialogue in the fourth clip. I love the way he seems so angry then just says "Oh, hi Mark."

I hope you enjoyed that. I must see this film!

Thursday, 25 February 2010

Layout change

I'm back in Cardiff.
After bidding farewell to Mother and Brother, I set off on the train foe what was a very peaceful and unproblematic journey. I played Final Fantasy IV (a game almost as old as me) on my SNES emulator on my laptop to get me through the journey.
My flatmate Ben's front teeth have incurred some damage since I've been away. Turns out he got a bit excited on the way to the local park to play football, fell over and face-planted the floor. Not good.

During the day today I changed the layout for the blog. What do you guys think of it? I'm not sure if I like it or not.

Wednesday, 24 February 2010

A Musing (not amusing)

I always feel an odd sadness when I realize my inevitable departure to university is approaching again; the kind of sadness that, when you let it rise up in you, just leaves you to sigh.
It isn't so much that I don't want to go back. I absolutely love the course and my independent lifestyle up there. It's just I feel sad to be leaving people behind, saying goodbye to friends and family and not knowing when I'm going to see them again. I am yet to feel the kind of closeness, attachment and affection to anywhere or anyone in Cardiff as I feel for my house and my family; the kind of affection that makes you feel at home.

However, coming back to Plymouth recently I have found nostalgia to be waiting round every corner as I walk old shortcuts a younger me had discovered in his scruffy school uniform, scuffed shoes and ripped trousers. Again I sigh as I think back to these memories, monochrome mementos to a world that can't exist for me any more. I am older now. With every year comes more responsibility. I now understood why my parents always said I would miss my childhood once it was gone.

Once I am up in Cardiff again with my friends, this feeling tends to go away. It's just the leaving that's the hard part, thinking of all that's behind me.

I need to look forward instead, where Italy awaits me in a mere four weeks. Venice, Rome, Florence and the rolling hills of Tuscany lie waiting to be explored by this young intrepid traveller struggling with his rudimentary grasp on the Italian language. I'll blog it.

The Shadow of the Wind

I finally finished reading La sombra del viento by Carlos Ruiz Zafón, although I did end up reading the second half in my English version of the book, The shadow of the wind.

At first I felt a bit crestfallen, as if I had given up. It wasn't that I had given up however. It's just that when you have to read a 250 page book of 1912-17 Spanish poetry for your course, it's hard to have a Spanish novel on the go as well, especially because reading in a foreign language drains me and is far from the relaxing and effortless experience of reading in English. Another reason for my switch to the English version was that the plot had me gripped to the point where I just had to get to the end and fast. Besides, I did read 300 pages in Spanish and the remaining 200 in English. Not bad for a first attempt at reading a Spanish novel.

It's a brilliant and enchanting book and I would recommend it to anybody. Globally, it is the second highest selling novel to ever come out of Spain; second only to Don Quijote de La Mancha, the cornerstone of Spanish culture and literature. The plot deals heavily with the joys of reading, reinforcing these joys for the reader themselves and it is set in Barcelona, Zafón's own home town which he describes with such fluid accuracy that it feels as if he is holding your hand as you float through the city on the wings of his words. If you click the cover below it will take you to Amazon so you can read about it, if you're interested.

Monday, 22 February 2010

Balls in the bath

I am in a total state of relaxation now. Due to the fact that I have been home in Plymouth since Friday, I decided to have a bath tonight; the first bath I have had in a long time.
Recently I finally completed my Sigur Rós collection by getting the only album of theirs I didn't have, 2002's oddly named '( )'.
So I thought in honour of finally having this album, I would bask in its ambient waves as the warm water lapped over me and caressed me to my very soul. And boy did it work.
I rediscovered many forgotten joys about baths, such as the scent of the bubble bath filling my nostrils, the sound of silence when you let your head underwater and putting a big lump of soapy suds on top of my head.
Along with these I was reunited with the old bathing qualm, the ball-dip. For males such as me who like their baths hot, the ball-dip is the most difficult and painful part of the bath-entering process; the part in which the testicular satchel is submerged into the water as the man sits down, the final temperature test and the part in which the man makes a lot of strange noises. The ball-dip is a perilous bridge, but a bridge that must be crossed in order for bath entry to be carried out successfully.
The bath was complimented perfectly with some Pina Colada scented bubble bath, making it possibly one of the most masculine episodes of my life so far.

Wednesday, 17 February 2010

Regarding Headphones

I think I'm going to stop having my earphones in as much.

It gives off a distinct message of closing out the rest of the world and any form of social interaction is prevented. Even saying hello to friends who you pass while walking isn't as good. Instead of saying 'hi', I find myself mumbling and smiling to them in fear of bellowing 'ALRIGHT!?' at them as often happens due to headphones causing people to not realise how loud they are speaking.

It saddens me to think of all the conversations I could have had and all the people I could have spoken to if I had just let the world in more; people I could have met on buses, in cafés, in lectures etc.
For instance, in my education seminars I usually shove my headphones in as soon as I get out of the room and plod off to my next lecture. However yesterday, for the first time, I decided to leave my headphones out and got chatting to somebody who I never would have spoken to with the iPod on.

So I think I shall curb my music listening a little and see what happens.

Friday, 12 February 2010

Home for a day

I came home for a night last night. The train down was nice because I wasn't bogged down by the usual plethora of bags. Instead I opted for one single laptop shoulder bag. I felt like a right student.

However, typical me still managed to show his face on the journey...

I had to change trains at Bristol Temple Meads and after getting off the train I started walking towards the next platform. "Brrr, it's cold," I thought.
Then it hit me. I had left my jacket on the train I had just disembarked. This isn't just any old jacket. It's my favourite jacket. It and I are nigh on inseparable. It has held me close through many a cold day. There was no way I was going to repay it by leaving it behind to some cold uncertain future with some undesirable.
Never had I ran so fast. You know that guy who is running for train at the station who everyone laughs at? I was that guy.
As I approached the train I glanced up at the departures screen. The train was due to depart in 1 minute. The conductors were gathering outside, lips to their whistles, prepared for departure. I threw myself through the carriage, terrified the train would depart with me still on it and take me to God-knows-where.
By a stroke of luck I managed to retrieve the jacket and get back onto the platform unscathed, jacket and bags intact. I then proceeded onward smoothly with the rest of my journey and made it home.

Before coming to university I never realised how much affection I had for my home town. When I started seeing familiar buildings, the river, the humble city lights twinkling away, it felt great. Those sights filled me with comfort, nostalgia and happiness.

I'm heading back to Cardiff tonight with four of my friends: Nathan, Luke, Sherwin and Dan. They're coming up for the weekend and hopefully I'll get to show them the night (and day) life of Cardiff. I love showing people around my new home.

Wednesday, 10 February 2010

That's good quality H2O... or not

Today I learned the value of hot water. I dragged myself out of bed after a late night last night, motivated by the thought of a warm revitalising shower. Things didn't turn out quite the way I had hoped. We had no hot water. Standing in that bathroom miserably jumping in and out of that freezing cold shower, making all kinds of odd noises as the ice rained down upon me, was quite a low point to start out on today. I mean I've had the occasional 'cold shower' in my life but this was a whole new level. I gave up, defeated, and decided against lathering myself in pneumonia-inducing water, instead opting to shiver into my towel.
So there I was, yesterday's hair product still greasy in my hair, feeling as tired as ever and shivering my ass off as I clumsily put my clothes on. My next thought was to get some breakfast. So I went to the kitchen, had some cereal and then tried to wash my dishes. But alas, the water there was cold too.
I then left my flat to head to university. I was far from in the bright and awake state I had wanted to be in. This led me to ponder how dependent I am on hot water and how being without it turned me into a clumsy, tired and grumpy Neanderthal for the morning.

Sunday, 7 February 2010

Not ready...

I got too drunk last night. Walked home feeling very ill. Some drunk creepy guy at a taxi rank asked to stay at my flat to which I responded by walking away.
I am feeling the repercussions of last night and would like nothing more than to fall asleep right now.
What better way to take advantage of this than by going out tonight to a fancy dress club-crawl known as 'Carnage' which is renowned for being the messiest of student events?


Saturday, 6 February 2010


I have just found a new online obsession via a facebook advertisement that caught my eye (turns out those ads do have some use after all.

The website is called Lang-8 and is an international social network for those learning languages. You simply create a profile, giving details of your native languages and languages you study and then the website recommends people to befriend who have similar criteria, meaning that they are either learning your native language, you are learning their native language or both.

The site works by users writing journal entries which are kind of like mini blog posts. You write these journal entries in one of your foreign languages and then native speakers can make corrections and leave comments.

Users are also able to communicate via messages and skype. This site looks like it could be very beneficial.

Any language learners (that means you Chris) should try it out.

It can be accessed at

Wednesday, 3 February 2010

Oh, Jónsi how I love you.

I have just stumbled on a wonderful piece of news. Jónsi, lead singer of Sigur Rós is creating a solo album for release in the week beginning April 5th. Those of you who have never heard of Sigur Rós, check them out.
If you like them, you may also like Jónsi's side project with his partner, Alex; the aptly named Jónsi & Alex.

However this new solo album seems a total new direction for Jónsi. The music is very uplifting and light and he sings in English in most of the songs on the album. For those interested, check out his site here. On the site you can listen to a song called 'Boy Lilikoi' from the forthcoming album entitled 'Go'.

Check it out. It's wonderful.