The Art of Rhysisms

Rhysisms [Reece Is-ums]: Stupid, no meaning sentances. Created by Rhys Wynne [Reece Win] for his blog, The Art of Rhysisms. [more..]

Runner up in the best tagline catagory of 2004 Bloggies

A Googlewhack for the words "Pocketable Tourniquets", which I created myself.

Support International Webloggers Day! July 9th, 2004
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Member of the New World Whore-der in the Liverpool University Ten Pin Bowling Club.

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Designed on a computer with IE5.5, with resolution 1024x768 16 Bit colour. But it should degenerate okay. If you're lucky. With the wind behind you.
Friday, February 28, 2003

Your the crystal, the ecstasy, The drug that keeps feeding me.
I'm Going Out For A While, So I Can Get High With My Friends, I will..
If ever fronted a band (and, here's hoping), I reckon I'd be like a poor man's Grant Nicholas. Not in music, talent, or appearance, just in stage presence. I wouldn't jump around or act like a fool, just get on with it. Grant did that last night, and not one bit of arrogence came out. If there was, well, he didn't show it. The reason? Everybody in that room knew how great he is.

Last night probably was one of the best nights of my life, without a doubt. With JJ72, whilst fantastic, I didn't know a few of the songs. At Feeder I did. Last night was very special, and all because I was seated didn't mean I didn't stand up. Buck Rogers was immense, Just a Day was absolutely brilliant, Just The Way I'm Feeling was brilliant as well. Last night Feeder became probably my favourite band, leapfrogging Oasis. Why? Because they are fantastic. Feeder, along with Beatles, Greenday, Oasis and Nirvana and a select few others, are probably the only bands out there where their B-Sides are just as strong as their A-Sides (don't believe me? Just A Day was a B-Side). Here's hoping for a B-Side album, as it'd be brilliant.

Probably one of the coolest moments for me last night (although people furiously doubt it), was at the end of Just A Day. Grant looked out into the crowd, in my general direction. I gave the International Symbol of Rocktm with my left hand, he did the same. I then did it with both hands, and so did he. I doubt he was looking directly at me, but it's nice to think so. Sure beats someone I know's convincing themselves that Nelly Furtado winked at them during V2001. Even so, I felt that I bonded with Grant, which is great, because it's probably the first time ever that a North Welsh and a South Welsh ever bonded in the history of the world, ever.

Hell Is For Heroes were pretty good, only dissappointed they played (arguably) their most famous song second. Shame, as the rest of their set just involved a little too much screaming for my liking, but they were still good.

Another fact that pleased me: with all the crap around in the moment such as manufactured pop and R+B, people are liking music because it's there. It pleased me that every single person in that theatre had absolutely impecable taste in music.

Incidentally, I didn't get pissed, due to it being £2.50 a bottle for beer, that's probably worse than London.

Sorry this post isn't up to normal standards, I'll probably go on about this a few more times, but I'm still on a high from last night. No explination, I know, but as Feeder would sing, it's "Just the Way I'm Feeling".

Come Back Around

Keep the Faith


Thursday, February 27, 2003

Random People: The People's Liberation Front of F Block could have these in Hide and Seek.
Run for Cover
Yesterday, for about the first time in ten years, we played Hide and Seek. But, we are men. We played hide and seek: commando style. We all get dressed up in army gear, bandanas and boot polish. We looked like the People's Liberation Front of F Block, we were sorted.

Unfortunately for me, I got caught within about half a minute. Bugger.

I am within six hours of the gig to see Feeder, and I'm leaving my quality flash animation for a week in approximately an hour to meet my brother who's getting the train in from home. It's a bit funny, as he knows I am a bit of a slouch, yet I woke up at 8am just to tidy my room (and to tell him that if he forgot the tickets, I'd beat him with a stick). I'm loving like that.

Going back to my comment on Flash. I'm doing a Multimedia Project in (guess what) ELEC133: Multimedia. A few weeks ago I did a quality movie that, for 30 seconds worth, ended up being 110MB in size. Now, I may not have a degree yet, but surely if a file is 110MB and is standard compressing, then something must be going wrong. Right?

Anyway, like my 110MB movie, my Flash is boss. I'm thinking on linking it in a few weeks when my project's finished.

Only a small update today, as I am going out of lectures early, so I need to get some work done. However, rest assured that tomorrow will be a fairly detailed review of the Feeder gig (if I don't get drunk, if I do, then there won't be).

Keep the Faith


Wednesday, February 26, 2003

You're Not Singing Anymore

What was that? Spooner? Yeah right....

As a Manchester United fan. I'm not adverse to a bit of stick. One such occasion was in the FA Cup a few weeks back, where the scum beat us 2-0. In that game, Ryan "I bet you wish he played for England" Giggs missed the sort of chance that even Tommy Two Left Feet could of put away. Needless to say, I recieved a bit of laughter aimed at my general direction from certain individuals. Well, WHO'S FUCKING LAUGHING NOW?! I tell you. Me! HA DE FUCKING HA! Admitedly, when Diego "He comes from Uruguay and he made the scousers cry" Forlan got injured, I was worried. However, Giggsy and Ruud Van Nistlerooy beat a pretty stong (on paper, they were shite last night) Juventus side 3-0.Get in!

Get In!

In Other News
All my assignment work is handed in, no more lectures until Friday, this means I can begin the 28.5 hour drinking session preparation for Feeder/Hell Is For Heroes gig tomorrow night, I can hardly wait.

Being possibly one of the most influential people on the internet, people just love to please me. One such person is Mr. Yahoo. After saying on my website numerous times that Feeder are possibly one of the best bands of the last few years? What did they do? They bung 'Comfort In Sound' onto thier Launchcast! Top Work! Now to achieve gods amongst men (a position held by me, and a few other select people), either buy me a pint or bung Hell Is For Heroes onto your internet station thingy.

Not that we promote serial killing, but if you were Richard, you would be gutted...
Okay, this will no doubt dent my blokeness, but wasn't Corrie good on Monday?! For those of you who don't watch it, (I haven't watched it before), here's the general jist: Ugly Bird Gayle has been shagging Just For Men lookalike bloke Richard. Richard is also a serial killer, which can technically be a problem. He bumped off some bird a few weeks back, some bloke a few weeks before that and his ex as well. Gayle, realising that she isn't the catch she once was, turns to Richard and said "Listen, have you been killing people recently?". Richard, fooled by Gayle amazing level of subtlety, blurted out "Yes". At which point, Gayle said "Hmm....I'm getting on in years and massively wealthy. Are you going to kill me as well?". Dicky boy said "Listen Love, I promise nothing" or summit like that. Dunno what happened next, as I went to the pub after that. Anyway, ITV, top drawing 20 Million audience work! (although that's a fair bit of a way to go for this websites 90 million audience).

Right, this post has taken me half hour, so I'm off to the boozer, or a shower, or to play on my GBA. I haven't decided. I am going for a piss, as I'm bursting.

Keep The Faith


Tuesday, February 25, 2003

Hey, I'm ugly today, but it could be worse. I could be a ginner...
I'd like to be somebody else, and not know where I've been..
Somedays I wake up, look in the mirror, and say "goddammit Rhys, just why cannot you get laid? If I was a big boobed dad owns a pub blonde, I'd love to shag you", unfortunately, today isn't one of those days. My gums are bleeding so even if I did get a snog you'd get a mouthful of blood, my brace is itching me, I'm farting loads, and other unplesantaries I daren't mention in this blog. However, all you single ladies out there rest assured, as tomorrow I will be back to fat but somehow strangely attractive Rhys.

I must of been lucky to get four hours of sleep, due to my painful brace. I've decided to forsake swimming today due to me needing some sort of antiseptic mouth cream, else no sleep tonight also.

The guild elections are now in full swing, now I've made myself quite clear that I'm not voting, but that doesn't stop those who are running to constantly bother me with a few cheap indulges. Seriously, it's awful. So far this is what I've obtained:-

  • Half a dozen Rizla (which would be fantastic if I smoked...but I don't)
  • 6 Cans of Coke
  • Four contraception devices (work it out)
  • And I've eaten twelve times my body weight in sweets, cakes and chocolate.
  • I'm half expecting this to happen:-

    Election Guy: Hiya Rhys, do you want a pen?
    Fat Attractive Welsh Bloke: Yeah sure.
    I walk away.
    EG: Aren't you going to eat it?
    FAWB: What?
    EG: It's a pen, eat it.
    FAWB: You don't eat pens.
    EG: EAT IT!!!
    FAWB eats it, and rushed to Liverpool General Medical Hospital, EG walks in...
    EG: Vote Jimmy Party!
    Oh well, tomorrow it will all be over, thank god.

    Keep the Faith


    PS. Two Days!

    Monday, February 24, 2003

    The Plough: Who actually comes up with these names?!
    Don't speak, until you know just what you're saying.
    We should of been champions, we should of been carried out of the bar on the shoulders of the massives, we should of had virgins feeding us grapes. We didn't. Like Bret Hart in the 1997 Survivor Series, we were screwed. We were on fire, due to our wide range of knowledge, lucky guesses, and frequent bathroom breaks to phone people with stronger chemistry knowledge than my good self. However, we got 30/50, and the winners got 31/50. We nailed the tie breaker, the question disputed was "what is the most common part of Ursa Major known as." the answer being "The Big Dipper". We put "The Plough". The quizmaster, who was probably head of PE at Liverpool Uni rejected this answer, meaning we lost. We still got £10 though, which is boss.

    Nothing much is really happening. I was planning on going out tonight, but after Data Structures, I've lost the will to live.

    Keep the Faith


    Sunday, February 23, 2003

    float thoughts = (10*(Math.Rand())
    Oooh, geeky title. You don't get too many of them for the pound.

    Now that I've recovered from my hangover, lets look back at the weekend plans, to see just how many of them I pulled off.

    Buying A Game Boy Advance
    Yep, about midday yesterday, for the almost criminal but I don't care because I'm a student lacky type situation sum of £50, I purchased a Game Boy Advance. It's clear, it's got Doom and Tony Hawks, it's got a light, it's got a battery pack, it's mine, and I love it to bits.

    Assignment Work
    Guess what? I couldn't be arsed.

    Time Tunnel
    Yep, more about that later.

    Get Pissed

    Get laid
    Shock horror yes!
    Who With: Some fit bird
    When: Yesterday
    Where: In my dreams.

    Okay, I thought that was funny.

    Win the Pub Quiz
    Undecided yet, tune in tomorrow.

    That bloke from American Pie who is that bloke in Freddy Got Fingered.
    So, about Time Tunnel. The night began with an impromptu game of the world's most poofy sport, Ultimate Frisbee. I'm sorry, but any game that can be picked up by fat Welsh blokes in 20 seconds and I can become pretty darn good at it is not really a sport in my book.

    After that began drinking of the poison formally known as alcohol. We drank in front of a film called "Freddy Got Fingered" (women, don't get excited), which is quite possibly the worst film ever made. It's kind of a porno flick without the porno, just no storyline, little direction, and other critical features of films that I can say to make me sound important. If someone says to you "Hey, do you want to watch 'Freddy Got Fingered'", beat them with a stick, because it's crap.

    We hit a fairly average Time Tunnel. Nothing special happened (or maybe it did, and my alcohol/selective memory cannot remember it). However, on the way home, I got speaking to this semi-gothic bird who's running for president. She seemed pretty nice (not nice in the 'I want to shag her' way, but nice in the 'nice' way). Which kind of gives me a dilemma, should I vote for her for the sake of voting? Or should I just sit back, as I don't really care too much. Oh life's a bugger.

    RUN YOU BITCH! (before the Daily Mail writes in and complains, I am technically correct.)
    This morning, we broke "The 10 Commandment's: #4". For all you aethists out there #4 is "Keep the Sabbath Day Holy", no sooner than I had breakfast I was down the bookies faster than a whippet. Unfortunately, I ended down by about a quid, but I had two winners. One a 2/1 shot won me £2 and another a 1/2 dead cert won me 50p. The losses came in a £3 bet on a dog named 'Rhys' Revenge'. It was a sign! It was an omen! It was a coincidence. Rather like me, it stumbled around drunkenly before limping over the line, and back to bed. However, the commentator on this betting channel did say that 'the dog was an attractive looking animal'. So man and animal are so much alike. However, no mentioned was made on it's country of origin, what it looks for in a bird, and how many pints it can take. So I guess the similarities stop there.

    Keep the Faith


    Saturday, February 22, 2003

    I shall call him...Mini Me
    A popular feature of the internet is Flash. This has many uses. Unfortunately, most are pants. However, this is quite a cool usage, make a little 'weemee' as it's called. Here's mine.

    Notice the lager, the messed up hair and rather large belly. Anyway, thanks to Deviled Chicken for the link. Or rather not. You see, if you click on the link on her site, it leads back to her site. So a bit screwed with HTML type situation. All those with a large computer knowledge, please, point and laugh.

    To actually make these bastards click here.

    In other News
    Thanks to Sibz for being the only bugger sad observant enough to spot the error of my ways. The last post reads:-

    just to make the time without no monitor fly by.
    Where it should read:-
    just to make the time with no monitor fly by.
    He don't understand double negatives, bless him. This is a one off, I know my posts are full of spelling mistakes. But that's what makes me special.

    Right I'm off down the bookies

    Keep the faith


    Friday, February 21, 2003

    Tomorrow you will be mine....
    Staying The Weekend
    This weekend I am actually, shock horror, remaining in the lovely city of Liverpool. Here's what I've got planned.

  • Firstly, tomorrow I'm getting a 2nd hand Gameboy Advanced. They're quite cheap at the mo, so I'd thought I'd get one, just to make the time without no monitor fly by. (It really is depressing. I've got no form of entertainment in my room. It's either clock radio or hitting myself over the head with a snooker cue).
  • I really should do some assignment work....but I cannot be arsed.
  • Time Tunnel is a must, even if nobody else is going. I'm going, as they play Greenday.
  • Get pissed
  • Get laid (doubt it).
  • Win the pub quiz.
  • And that's it, although I probably won't update over the weekend.

    In Other News
    Besides Liverpool, I spend the rest of my time in Colwyn Bay, North Wales. The second biggest town in North Wales (behind Wrexham), you'd think we would have a Broadband connection, right? Wrong. Unfortunately BT don't seem that dispite desolate towns with no forms of civilised life having broadband (such as Rhyl), Colwyn Bay's fairly (on the whole, discounting old dear's homes) computer literate population hasn't got one sniff of the Broadband pie. Up steps Pat Ward, setting up a website Broadband 4 Colwyn Bay to hopefully convince the townsfolk of Colwyn Bay just how good the Broadband revolution is. So, if you live in the Colwyn Bay area (counting Old Colwyn and Rhos-on-sea), and want to download videos of monkeys picking their noses (lets face it, we all do), then pay that site a visit. Mum, I'm looking at you...

    Thinly disguised plugging over (the only reason for this post was the plug, as I'd probably forget soon. Oh well, c'est la vie.

    Keep the Faith


    A ginner. A funny ginner, but a ginner nonetheless...
    Ya Tay-kin the piss?
    Being Welsh, I get a few jokes because of it, it's in part of the job description. It's the way that the far less superior individuals of this planet get their kicks. However, nothing more personal than 'sheep shagger'. Until yesterday.

    Last night was the Comedy Night at the University, which is generally a very good night. Last night was, in general, no exception.

    First act was a couple of guys (for those in the know, this is known as a 'double act') who called themselves "Electric Forecast". One was ginner. I liked them because, lets be honest, there's not a man alive who doesn't find ginners funny. A ginner could just go up there, and could say anything, and I'd be rolling around on the floor in tears. But they were fucking funny, ginner or no ginner.

    Pringles = Shit.
    After man and comical ginner, there was....TOKEN FAT GUY! Being myself a few pounds over the norm, I related to him, and the evilness of pringles. They are so evil. The problem is also the 33% of the calories of Original Pringles. They are even more evil. You just eat three times as much. Bastards. Anyway, he was pretty funny.

    The problem with me was the compere. For those not in the know compere means "guy who is local who doesn't get paid much because he cracks the same jokes every fucking week". However, shock horror, he cracked a new joke, about The Welsh Mountain Zoo.

    A wee sheepie: possibly in the Welsh Mountain Zoo
    "Wait just one cotton picking minute here," I hear those who visited this blog over the summer cry, "didn't you used to work there, and hopefully going back there over the holidays?". The answer is a most resounding "yes". He had a go at my zoo, saying on how it was shite. This guy was from Birkenhead.

    For those who haven't experienced the cities of the North West, Birkenhead is a bit like Rhyl, and it's full of people who have been kicked out of Liverpool, but were so full of crack cocaine that their legs couldn't make it too Rhyl. It's that bad. As my mate said, "It's coke in the salt sachets in KFC, because it's easier to get". So here's this guy, saying that my zoo is shite? So what did I do when he started saying we're all a bunch of thick people who work there?

  • Jump up on stage and shouted 'LETSAVIT!'
  • Left the place in disgust.
  • Shouted 'I work there, I've been here before, and you crack the same jokes over and over again, you wanker'.
  • Sat there and erupted into raucus laughter.
  • For those who said the last one, award yourself a pint! For, let's be fair, I was the only one who understood the jokes about the staff. Especially one member. Bloke, about 17, works in sweet shop, cannot count to save his life, till is always in a mess, local lad, spotty as hell, cannot take his drink. I wonder who that can be? I was pissed, and I didn't want to make a scene. So I took his comments with a pinch of salt (or cocaine, as is the Birkenhead way).

    Well bang goes my degree.
    In other News
    Possible update on the monitor. After discussing with my mum on the possibility of getting a new monitor for my PC, it was considered largely by me that getting a new PC (or, more specifically, nicking one from my gran's who, lets face it, never uses it) would be easier than pissing around with old monitors. This PC is slightly faster (P330) and has a large wad of RAM. However, the best thing is the graphics card. It's 16bit. This means I can:-
  • Return to programming in Blitz Basic
  • Lose my life again with Championship Manager.
  • And Mame works on it!
  • I can hardly wait. It's not deffo, but it should be okay, I hope.

    Keep The Faith


    Just Prove Me Wrong
    Proving R.L.O.C.C. wrong again, as some of you weren't happy with my last effort:-

    Frosties (cool) + Tomato Ketchup (cool) = Tomato Ketchup flavoured Frosties (definitely not cool)

    I win

    Keep the Faith


    Thursday, February 20, 2003

    The Lost Art of Blogging
    Not everybody has the skills for writing one of these like I have. However, help is at hand from kind souls who post questions on their site, so that the egocentric but completely untalented individuals of this blogosphere have something to write about. One instance is something called Friday Five.

    Being the talented wee Welsh blighter that I am, I have no need for this. However, I am intensely bored, but as I'm going swimming in a bit, I haven't got time to talk about how Arsenal are going out of Europe. So, instead, I'm going to post my answers to this week's "Friday Five"!.

    Only trouble is that it isn't Friday, it's Thursday. So, I'll answer only three of the questions, because some I have no idea what they mean it makes sense, making it the "Thursday Three!"

    1. Explain why you started to journal/blog.
    I'm an egomaniac. I get a huge kick out of you visiting my site, and go half orgasmic (not really, but it makes good reading) whenever someone posts a comment.

    2. Do people you interact with day to day or family members know about your journal/blog? Why or why not?
    A few do. My mum's seen it, and plenty of my mates back home. However, one and only regular reader is my brother. I guess they love me, so they read it.

    Skipped question's 3 and 4....couldn't be arsed.

    5. Pimp five of your favorite journals/blogs.
    this one, this one, this one, this one and this one.

    Hardly worth the effort.

    Oh more thing....ONE WEEK UNTIL FEEDER! (with the added attraction of Hell is For Heroes).

    Keep the Faith


    Still no update on the monitor, so this is just a small update. If the montior decides to behave itself, or (more convieniently) if I find a computer, then I'll post about Manchester United's fantastic display on how to play football in Europe. However, as I'm in a bitchy mood, I'm going to disprove something.

    Roland's Law Of Cumulative Coolness.

    Again, the second biggest event this week for the world (behind my monitor breaking, which has left my 20 million fans in disarray, wondering if they'll get their fix of me) is Google buying Blogger. Ro had thoughts on this, using his L.O.C.C., however, he didn't count their names:-


    So Blogger (which is cool), added to Google (which is cool), makes Boggle! This is not cool! It is the world's most frustrating game in the world EVER! You play it, and you end up losing to your little brother who somehow managed to find the word "Riotings", and you realise that Oxford English Dictionary doesn't include:-

  • Welsh words
  • 95% of swears
  • Brands of lager
  • Jack Danniels
  • Sheepies
  • And you don't stand a chance against anybody with a way with words they could give a Thesaurus a run for it's money (ie. anybody who took English A Level). Roland, whilst I don't deny you are a smart bloke. But with your Law Of Cumulative Coolness, you are most definitely WRONG!

    Right, I promise not to talk about current affairs ever again, I know how many of you want to hear how I get pissed every night.

    Keep The Faith


    Wednesday, February 19, 2003

    Oh dear oh dear oh dear....
    Computer's on the blink, so posts will be spasmodic at best for the next few days. Here's last nights events (in shortened form, Man U. is on downstairs).

  • Didn't bother going to formal meal. Instead, had fish, chips and a pint in front of the footie.
  • Lost dinner pass, spent 2 hours looking for it this morning. Found it.
  • Slept through Data Structures.
  • Tried to renounce my leader skills on this website, didn't work.
  • Watched Weakest Link.
  • Slept
  • Went to switch on computer, fucked up.
  • Went to computer room to post this fine piece of literature.
  • And that's my life up until this point.

    Keep the faith


    Tuesday, February 18, 2003 deal
    Needless to say, unless you are posting from w.bloggar or have your head down the toilet while the blogging page where I make my magic, and you make your crap loads up, you'd probably be aware that "Big Nice Search Engine Type Situation" Google has gone up to Pyra Labs (the blokes who make it easy for me to post my thoughts) and said "oooh, we like your crap, here's a large sum of money, and it's mine now. Right, lets go for a pint.".

    Fortunately for Microsoft, the person who snuck into their headquarters in the dead of night and stuck a giant white pole in their front lawn was easily caught..
    Normally I wouldn't post too much about it, as I know how much everybody likes to hear about me instead. However, as Britain, nay, the world's most respected weblogger ever, I feel it is my duty to post something about this. However, in my irrelavent nature.

  • Firstly, the guy who first reported this has the undoubtedly cool honour of being named after our local bar! Yes, Dan Gillmor, we salute you!
  • Google, lets be honest, as far as I know, haven't spilt anybody's pint. I don't think they'd fuck about too much with Blogger.
  • People have got too big for their britches in the blogging world, and produce weblogs that are, in fairness, pants. These people are usually the first to complain when something they don't like happens. They cry like babies screaming 'it's not fair', like that fat kid at primary school footy tournaments when nobody passes to him. You know the ones! Anyway, if you're one of those whingers: we don't care.
  • As one of Blogger's biggest assets, I have some clout in what they do, they wouldn't dare remove the free service, otherwise I'd be off to Movable Type land.
  • In summary, Google haven't pissed me off so far, so lets just wait and see what happens. If this deal means my blog is faster, archives don't screw up, and I get a pint from Google's head honcho..hey, more power to them

    In Other News
    Like a rabbit who only gets shagged 20 times a year, I'm not a happy bunny. Last night I did a fairly dumb thing in getting pissed while not going out until 2am. So I had a bugger trying to get to sleep. Also, some bastard's car alarm got set off at 6am this morning, and it went on for twenty fucking minutes. I'm sorry, but whenever I hear a car alarm, I don't think "ooh, some bad man is stealing someone's car, let's beat him with a stick.", I think "SHUT THE HELL UP!!" (one of my many talents is thinking in HTML code). For all you people out there who read this and work for someone like BMW, here's a tip:-

    Car Alarms don't work, Flamethrowers Do....
    Right I'm off to prepare for this swanky meal.

    Keep the Faith


    More groaning than a dodgy Dutch porno flick....
    I just bought myself a webcam, click here to see it!

    Keep The Faith


    Monday, February 17, 2003

    Random thoughts posted together for your visual enjoyment.

    Despite being top of the table, Arsenal fans have low self esteem. These actually want to be ginners!

    Something I've noticed, there seems to be a inverse correlation between the amount of Ginner in someone's hair, and ear size. Every proper ginner people I've seen have had really small ears. Anybody got any other thoughts of this?

    Today has been quite good for me, for we are in the mist of possibly the second biggest sale behind the January sales: after Valentine's Day sales.

    Okay, bear with me on this. Sod the cards and the flowers and the giant cuddly tiggers, as only birds getting shagged care about them, and beeline straight for the confectionary department. Go to somewhere like Thorntons and look for the heart shaped boxes. You will see that you get top shelf quality chocolate that if Willy Wonka Jr. would of made it, it would bring a proud tear to the eye of the senior (ie. the Continental range, or above) for rock bottom prices, that even us students can afford.

    Of course, you could go forever for this, but there is abundance (not as much as after Easter, but it's nicer) of top notch chocolate now available dirt cheap. If you love choccys (like I do), it doesn't matter if they are in a heart shaped box, actually meant to be worn as underwear, or shaped like willies, eat it, it's all good.

    Of course, when your mate comes into your room, that's when the problem starts:-

    "Oh, you got a Valentine's gift?"
    "Yeah, from a bird back home"
    (Make them struggle)
    "Oh right, what does she look like?"
    "You know, 6 foot, long blonde hair, big boobs, dad owns a pub. Y'know, the usual."

    [Short Pause]


    [Long Pause]


    Humiliation from mates aside, it's chocolate, it's quality (not the shite you get in those little balls at Woolies pick and mix), and it's cheap. Check it out!

    The Love Song Fright Train known to his drinking buddies as Lionel Richie
    The more and more I hear about Friday night here in Liverpool, the more and more I'm glad I came home. The music was, get this, "house". For those who aren't "in the know", don't worry, as I wasn't until I came to University. Just read "crappy dance crap" for "house", and you'll get my jist. No soppy love songs, no heartwrenchers, but, worst of all, no "Three Times A Lady" by Lionel Richie. Tragedy!

    Tomorrow is going to be difficult. I'm having a formal dinner with wine in our halls. Unfortunately; me, alcohol and formality is like fat birds and thongs: they just don't go together. Etiquette isn't my strongest points, this was highlighted at the 6th Form dinner when a grand total of three forks were put in front of me. Luckily Danielle, a girl from back home who has the pleasure of been born the same day as me, ran me through the basics, so I didn't look like a tit.

    Tomorrow however, I'll be alone. Multiple forks, academic gowns, and quite a number of bottles of plonk. I'm going to be bricking it!

    The food promises to be good however, as we're now on Grade E meat. Grade E meat now consists of "rats and rejected Maccy D's Chicken Nuggets". Lucky us.

    Keep the Faith


    Let me tell y'all what it's like. Being male, middle class and white
    .....orrrr maybe not.

    Keep the Faith


    Sunday, February 16, 2003

    And you thought I chose the title just for show...
    He's just a Skater Boy...she said 'I'll see ya later boy'....
    I never thought it, but I'm following a fashion trend. Me, the leading fashion icon, following a trend? Get outta here. Unfortunately, it is true. I'm slowly, slowly becoming ever so slightly, to put it politely, 'Skater'.

    Whether my emphatuation with Avril Lavigne is kicking in, or maybe me thinking Greenday is the greatest thing in music since Lionel Richie woke up one morning and rang up his manager and said "Listen to this, "You once...twice....three times a lady"", or maybe me staying up to some ungodly hour to watch UK Xtreme on Channel 5 (incedentally, the only thing on Channel 5 after 8 at night that isn't 15 year old porn. Ah well, that's minor channels for you). Or maybe some other reason.

    Picture the scene, end of last year I recieved as a Christmas present a "Liverpool University" long sleeved T-shirt, you know the sort, the kind that Tony Hawk's wears (I'm not saying that Hawk's supports my uni....but still..). Unfortunately, my attempts to bring it back to the Uni went awry when, stupidly, I realised I couldn't fit in my bag. This meant it got left in Colwyn Bay.

    Despite having a large scally population, and being Colwyn Bay closer to Liverpool than it is to Manchester, there is a majority of Man U fans there. Or maybe there isn't, it's just that the Man U fans are harder. So, going out in Colwyn Bay in a Liverpool Uni top may just of got me bludgened with a baseball bat, or summit.

    Cue yesterday, about 8:00, and me getting a chill. The absolutely gorgeous weather we had took it's toll, as, once the sun when down, it went a bit parky. Not having a shirt, or any jumper. I needed something to wear more than a t-shirt, but was new. Something that was a bit, different. I grabbed my Liverpool Uni top, put it on, and then slipped one of my generic red t-shirts on over it. I looked a bit skater, but, bloody hell, it was comfortable.

    You see, that's what sold it for me, comfort. I've not turned into one of those "I want to be different, so I'll dress exactly the bloody same as everybody else" skaters, or diehard skaters who can find a way to jump on their boards. I haven't even become a skater, I just wear a t-shirt over a long one. No biggie.

    In other news
    I've thoroughly enjoyed my weekend. I met people I haven't seen for yonks last night. And last night was worth coming home to, crashing the buffet was excellent and worthmissing Chesney Hawkes and Valentine's Day in Liverpool.

    Which reminds me, I haven't actually checked my post from Friday, I may, may, just get lucky....

    Keep the Faith


    Excuses, excuses, excuese
    Okay, I'm quite pissed typing this up, if it don't make sense, fuck off.

    Yeah yeah, kiss my ass.
    For those of you with no taste. I haven't had a good day today. So, as an official spokesperson for both club and indeed country, here is the excuses.

    Excuses for Manchester United:-
    1. We don't care about the FA Cup, we're concentrating on the League.
    2. We don't care about the FA Cup, we're concentrating on the Champions League.
    3. We don't care about the FA Cup, we're concentrating on the Worthington Cup.
    4. We don't care about the FA Cup, or the Worthington Cup, we just want to kick the scouser's arses.
    5. Wiltord needed a goal.
    6. Pires dived more than the Kursk.
    7. You got a lucky deflection.
    8. We wanted to give a couple of Arse-hole-nal fans a trip to Cardiff.
    9. Cardiff is full of League Of Wales shite.
    10. The ref was abysmal.
    11. We put out a weakened squad.
    12. Wenger bribed the official.
    13. I didn't have a bet on Arsenal.
    14. I did have a bet on Manchester United.
    15. It was their turn to win.
    16. We got further than Manchester City.
    17. We got further than Liverpool...
    18. ...and we don't lose to Crystal Fucking Palace.
    19. We wanted to be nice.
    20. Giggs wasn't on the best form of his life.
    21. You're team is full of bleeding foriegners.
    22. FA Cup is a crap cup.
    23. We'd thought we'd be nice.
    24. I missed half the game, sleeping (yeah sue me).
    25. We didn't have Eileen Drury.
    26. We didn't have Terry Henry.
    27. You didn't play fair.
    28. You smelled funny.
    29. You hurt Beckham.
    30. We had Gary Neville playing.
    Excuses for Wales RUFC:-
    1. We were shite.
    So any more smarmy comments from wannabe Scousers, wannabe Cockneys, and Wannabe Ugly-women-with-hairy-armpits (Italians...if you're dumb), then bring it on.

    Yeah yeah, I'm sorry. Get over it...
    In other News
    Despite the fact that Valentine's Day was shite, as I didn't go out (as promised), I did go out tonight. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, just saw Dimps, Nat and Sibley. Now, dispite the fact that I've already apologised, whilst arguing with Wiz, Nat's boyfriend that Lionel Richie is a quality artist (why, I don't know, we both don't need convincing that he is), for this to the big man himself, I need to do so here, as I said I would:-

    This is a very public apology coming up. Some time last week I said, in a matter of words, that cricket is boring. I'm here to say that actually, it isn't. It's actually good fun to watch. What made me say this? Well, I've been watching the Cricket World Cup, and become quite addicted to it. I've even watched some of it streamed off the internet in some of my Computer-Based Lectures. Oh the wonder of University 100Mb/s connections. So, Sibley, and all the Cricket loving inhabitants of the world. I'm going to be a man, and say I'm very, very, sorry.

    Now Golf...pfft....there's a poofy sport for you.

    |EDIT| Oh fucking hell I'm getting a hangover...

    Keep the Faith


    Friday, February 14, 2003

    Cupid: Any more shit Valentine's Days from him and I'll shove that bleeding bow so far up his arse he won't know what hit him.
    Love Is Here
    Happy Valentine's Day. Happy stupid shitty cheap way to make money Valentine's Day.

    As you probably guessed, I'm not too hot the world's biggest fan of Valentine's Day, and I'm pretty sure St. Vally wouldn't buy me a pint. St. Vally looks at my ample frame and says "Pfft, no point wasting my love potion on you, you'd have trouble pulling a hamstring mate." I probably don't do much to help the situation, as I can be a bit of a bastard.

    Also, I do set my standards a bit too high. I look at the birds and I say "Hmmmm...she's nice, but she's a minger/boring/poor/a lesbian/got a hard bloke/a sheepie". However, due to my naturally laid back stylee, I take this as one slight dink on my armour of greatness that is me, and get on with life. Until today.

    Before anybody who's currently humping somebody shouts "It's Valentine's Day, get a bird and it'll all feel better", let me explain. I wouldn't normally be down on Valentine's Day, I just a chain of events that got me down. All occurring on Lime Street Station.

    Ha ha! You stupid ginner
    Firstly, a little bit of history. Apparently, with the grand total of one strip joint on Lime Street, and a statue on top of a shop with his doodah hangling, it makes Lime Street gain the title of "Liverpool's Red Light District". So, normally, emotionless people will be feeling a bit frisky on Lime Street. Couple that with it being Valentine's Day, then we've got the city of Liverpool's snogging capital.

    This got me a little depressed, for my ticket said "Adult Single". Thanks for that British Rail (or whoever's screwing up the system). Also, there were loads of people snogging. The worst one was some ginner. Not an attractive ginner like that bird from X-Files, no. A pure, bright red haired, ugly as a slapped arse ginner. And yet, she was snogging! Oh dear. The only hope for me is that, by God, if she can do it, then so can I.

    Ah fuck it, I don't care no more. To all those who got a card, just get your coat, cos you've pulled. To all those who sent a card, you're tools of the multi million pound card making blokes. Finally, to all those who saved themselves a couple of quid by not buying a car, go down to your local boozer, and have a pint. For, although it's Valentine's Day, it's also a Friday Night. And, like every other normal Friday. I hopefully am going out and getting nicely toasted.

    Keep the faith


    Is there nothing I cannot do?

    Well Bugger Me...

    A nice review, and on some big badass blogging site, all in a space of 24 hours. Well I'll be fucked (please, it is Valentine's Day after all).

    And I'd like to point out that I did nothing to appear on that site (except from writing this blog, because it'd seem very stupid me appearing on a blog site if I didn't have a blog, now, would it?)

    |EDIT| Credit for the above goes to...errr.....who was it again?

    Keep the faith


    Wait Ages For A Review....
    ...and then two come along at once. Yes, those nice nice blokes and birds at The Weblog Review have gotten around to review this site, in a way to fuel my ego once again. For those of you who would like to read it in full, then click here.

    First lets start with moira's review. And bloddy hell, that bird's (I think, sorry if I'm wrong) got good taste.

    "your host, Rhys Wynn, is Graham Norton on speed and too much fun to ignore."
    Forgiving the misspelt name and the comparison to a drugged up poofter, barely, I can compensate that with the fact that people don't ignore me. And no, it's not because of my 6'2", 160 pound-odd frame. It's my personality. Yeah.
    "(I'm tempted to raise funds for him to get rid of the annoying Blogspot ad banner, though I suspect he'd put the money towards a pint.)"
    Damn straight I would. Send me money, send me beer, send it now.

    Me and Channy boy: Like that
    "it would star Jackie Chan - it's a rollercoaster of site, intensely personal and an addictive guilty pleasure."
    Now you really shouldn't of said that. Me and Jackie Chan are drinking buddies. We are two totally different people. Plus he's below me (violence is not the answer, every arguement should be settled with a drinking contest).
    "Add to that Rhys' charming Welsh/Liverpudlian slang and you're hooked, ready to forgive the occasional assaults on traditional English."
    Ah, they deserve it. I love them really.
    "It never overreaches or tries to be something it isn't - and more pointedly, it's ridiculously fun to read."
    There you go. All you doubters can kiss my ass. Or buy me a pint. Either way is good.

    I really would love to pick up so much more out of that review, but I'm shit scared that the reviewer might somehow get onto this site and take offense. I really don't mean no offense. Honest.

    The second review is by yz. It's not quite as praising as the one above, but, beggars can't be choosers, can they?

    "Rhys's posts are actually quite a delight to read, what with his dramatic way of telling stories and usage of ample sarcasm."
    As if my ego needs more stroking.
    "a glossary explaining names and locations that appear frequently in his blog (comes in handy, but I couldn't find Roland),"
    HA HA! You obviously don't make an impression.
    "However if you enjoy Dave Barry-style rantings that causes you to read with an exasperated smile,"
    Thanks, but who's Dave Barry. This simile is like concorde, way, way way over my head (except when it was grounded).

    In all fairness, props to yz and moira, as they were both very very nice towards me. I have this inflated ego because I truly believe this site is shite. So it's nice to know that it isn't, from time to time. I'm still going to be an egomaniac though.

    Right, fuck this, I'm off to the boozer.

    Keep the Faith


    Thursday, February 13, 2003

    It's sad, so sad, it's a sad sad situation.

    Everyday, I thank the Lord I'm Welsh

    Before I talk about the Kieron Dyer state that the national game is in at the moment, I must say a few things to cover my back. I'm quite aware that a fairly weak Wales squad only managed a draw against Bosnia-Hertzosummitorother, and it is only a friendly, both games. Friendlies don't count for anything except national pride. If you want any more consellation, China managed to draw with Brazil yesterday. So, you lost, no biggie.

    Right, onto the slating. You were shite. First half was League of Wales quality. Second was so much better. Why is Michael "I'm had a bet on an Aussie win, so I played crap" Owen even on the pitch? I'm probably going to be controversial for saying this, but at the moment, Heskey's probably on the better form at the moment. Owen, I admit, is probably the best striker in the country when he's on form. Unfortunately, he isn't. Give him a few games in the reserves, make him find his form again, then get him in for the national side. He's just a bit weak at the moment, he'll be back soon.

    Your goalkeeping problems are terrible. However, hope may be on the way in Robinson. Admittedly, he let a goal in at the end, but, by God, he did play well. The goal wasn't really his fault. He went down, and it was just slotted through his legs. He did pull off some good saves. David James also had a few good saves, and he'd make a great reserve keeper. However, Robinson, I believe, is the way to go. With either James or Richard Wright on the bench.

    There were some great points though in Wayne Rooney, Franny Jeffers and Jermaine Jenas. All had excellent games, as did most of the younger contingent. Rooney had something like 4 shots on goal, 4 on target. Now, if you are a manager, that's what you want in your strikers.

    So where do England go from here? I don't know. Give Sven more time with the players, it's one of those club vs. country things. But if the national game is so important to England (and it most definitely is), I'd let Sven have everybody he needs for every games.

    And the FA better keep their grubby mitts of Sparky Hughes, or I'll beat them with a stick.

    Keep the Faith


    Wednesday, February 12, 2003

    Him out of Busted.
    Monster Raving Looneys
    Election Fever has gripped The Guild! Well, it has, if your defenition of "gripped" is "mildly interested if you are involved, and annoying if you're not". Nevertheless, would be guild reps are walking around on our nights out, quite literally plastering us with badges, stickers and other paraphenalia so that we look like the proverbial human-13-year-old-girlie-teenager-who's-obsessed-with-him-out-of-Busted's-wall, in the hope that we may may vote for them.

    I hate politics, so I'll be absinthe-ing (or whatever that word for 'not taking part' is). However, probably the best form of deciding the winner involves drink, and lots of it.

    Bush: Probably would win a drinking contest with Saddam.
    Not a drinking contest (though that would be good as this would solve all arguements, however it wouldn't make me the rightful King of the World), but as the night wore on, it took it's toll on the candidates. They needed something to relax them. Couple that with the free bar for all candidates, then some of them got nicely toasted. Cue difficult questions:-
    "Would you fight for me to stay in halls?"
    "I want cheaper beer. I want it now."
    "Two pints of Fosters and a pack of plain, and I'll vote for you." (didn't work)
    "If I said 'I shagged your mammy/daddy/sheepie', how would you react?"
    All questions asked to drunken candidates, none by me. Now, if we can only get Bush and Saddam to sit down with an endless supply of alcohol, we could probably solve the Middle East problems so easily.

    In Other, Non-Political Crap News
    "LEADER! LEADER! LEADER!" was a familiar chant heard by members of my 10 strong group in the 'Let's get 200-odd people to make a website about Liverpool. It'll probably be crap, but we don't care.' COMP106 practical project. Why is there a leader chant? Well, like Moses to the Israelites (don't quote me on that, my bible knowledge is very sketchy at best), I have to lead the 'Art in Liverpool' to the 'ooh, their website is quite good, A++!' promised land.

    So how did I get this role? I'd love to say it was because of my five year knowledge of the intricate working of these blighters, but I can't. It was a "lets pick some guy at random" type situation, and, grudgingly, I accepted the role.

    So what does it involve? Well, I've got to not only do some research into 'Art in Liverpool', do some design work, and bring both together from the rest of the group in an orgy of design related shenanegans. And liase with the nerdy management group.

    Okay, 'Nerdy' is the wrong word. About half a dozen of them are dead nice people (one of them I usually bugger off down the Gilmour if we're bored). However, the rest of them are nerdy as nerdy to be. I used to think I was bad, but I'm not fit to hold a torch to some of them. Maybe they are nice people, but I have trouble speaking to someone with their face surgically graphted onto a computer screen. What else do you expect from Computer Scientists? Computer Engineers rule!

    Charlotte from Ash. You happy now Roland?
    Finally, last night I made my triumphant return to the ameteur kareoke circuit, with the formation (for one night only) of the "Kick Ass, Mutta Fukka Baddasses Emerging From Hell With Gunsa Blazing Squad", a fine quartet of singers who managed to, note-by-note, copy Michael Jackson's hit "Black + White", so well that it would of brought a tear to everybody's favourite cradle snatcher. Proving that the last result wasn't a fluke, I sung Ash's "A Life Less Ordinary" so well that if Roland was there, he'd jump for joy whilst screaming like a woman. I was pants. However, I can take comfort in the facts that:-
    1. It's a bloody tricky song to sing.
    2. The bloke from Ash isn't a good singer in the first place.
    Ooooh controversy there! Face it, he isn't a good singer. The band are an excellent band, but the guy isn't an outstanding singer. Whilst I try to retain some of the regular visitors, can I just say he's boss on the guitar, and a great songwriter.

    Right, the bar's calling me. I deserve a results celabratory pint. There'll probably just be a small writing tomorrow. Don't complain, or I'll beat you with a stick.

    Keep the Faith


    Don't you know you've got your Daddy's eyes, Daddy was an Blogaholic.
    Probably inspired by my bloody fantastic test scores, I'm *treating* you to so many titbits today, it's almost scary. Here's another one.

    Kind of furthering strengthening the link to the almost symbiotic relationship of blogs and those wierd quizzes that go everywhere, there's now a "Are you a blogaholic?" one, asking you if, quite literally, you are the sort of person who spends more time writing to people than actually having stuff to write. Anyway, yours truly has taken this test, and here is the basic jist of my results.

    Your Score: 72%
    Average Score: 43.3%
    What This Means: "You are a dedicated weblogger. You post frequently because you enjoy weblogging a lot, yet you still manage to have a social life. You're the best kind of weblogger. Way to go!"

    This week is becoming scary. Everything that's happening is going un-tits-up for me. I have the proverbial Midas touch (except, I cannot make gold, which is technically a problem, but not too much of a bugger) at the moment. Dammit, I don't want it to end, it cannot end.

    There'll be one more post today, later on, where I typically highlight the days events. I bet you cannot wait. Everybody'll like it, as it'll have pictures. Not pretty pictures, but pictures nonetheless.

    Keep the Faith


    Look at you now you're all in my hands...toooniiiiiiggghhhhttt
    Today I got my exam results for my degree (so far). After no hard work, this is the day that I've been dreading for yonks. Would my abysmal handwriting haunt me? Would it fuck. If you are right now thinking "hmm....Rhys, what did you actually get? I do similar models, and whilst I undstand that Rhys can kick my ass at everything, I would like to see what he got in relation to mine in a comparison type situation." Well whooppee you! I have kindly provided this to you.

    Rhysie Boy's Official Test Scores 2002/2003
    Digital Electronics 66%
    Java 64%
    Engineering Analysis 74%
    Problem-Based Learning 61%
    Application of Computers + Professional Skills 76%
    Internet Skills 70%
    Multimedia, Concepts + Practice 82%

    So that's that done. Now I can go back to Kareoke, drinking, and all other shenanegans that us student blighters get upto.

    Keep the faith




    Behold! Possibly the most evil force in Professional Wrestling. Big Fat Welsh Bloke!

    Height: 6'2"
    Weight: 330lbs
    From: Wales
    Special Move #1: He hides a naturally exploding sheepie in his mask, then when the referee's not looking, he throws it at his opponant, causing massive death + destruction.
    Special Move #2: 'The Daffodill Drop'. He pulls out a daffodill from underneath the ring, then climbs the turnbuckle, and elbow drops the daffodil onto the opponant. Opponant never gets up from that.
    Theme Music: Orchestral Piece beginning with: "He's big, he's fat, he thinks you are a twat. He's Big Fat Welsh Bloke!", sung by Tom Jones.

    Naturally, you are very, very scared.

    Props to some bloke for the link, who gave props to some bird for the link, who gave props to another bird for the link, who gave props to another bird for the link. As that bloke in that Disney film once sang, "It's a small world after all...".

    |EDIT| I'm quite aware that some individuals (namely Roland) will say 'That Big Fat Welsh Bloke has changed'. The thing is, that he has. The other one was boring. Nevertheless, they'd both kick your ass.

    Keep the Faith


    Tuesday, February 11, 2003

    Toilet Trouble
    Today, we had to queue for the toilet. Let me repeat that. Today, we had to queue too use a fucking toiliet. All the birds out there will be saying "so what?", but for us blokes, we are used to the in out and wash hands in three seconds. Flat. Two, if the wind's behind you. To wait for nearly 30 seconds for a wee wee is annoying. Males were given doodaa's so that we could come in, do your business (if you want to impress, make your business a sizable distance from the can) and leave, not pissing (no pun intended) about. Admittedly, sometimes the old brewer's droop kicks in, and a few people (not be) get intimidated into not going. Even so, it's 20 seconds, tops. Why am I complaining about it? I planned for a normal bloke tinkle, and got a queue a mile long, and missed the start of a lecture. Surely, if I can be excused for train failure, then I can be excused for toilet break irregularites, surely?

    In Other News
    Despite toilet trouble, I had a fairly good day. Nothing really special happened, except for the "Well it was funny for me type situation" involving 'heads'. Nothing really else to say about it. You may say "Rhys, that boring", I don't care.

    Y'see my little blighters, I could use a few quiet days. My body, like most of the money in a bird's handbag at the start of another bleeding shopping trip, is spent. I need the quiet life. I need normality. I need fishing. I need cricket. I need everything that's boring, normal, and cheap. I need a break.

    Keep the Faith


    The Cure: Friday, I won't probably be in love. But it's a cool song nontheless.
    I'm on a rolla-gay
    What did I tell you?

    I'm on a bit of a roll today. Last night was my luckiest night I've had in ages. Won jackpot on the fruit machine, pulled, and got pissed-sans-hangouvere (as the frogs'd say). I cannot remember too much else about that night, so don't ask.

    Lyrics of the moment (this came on the radio, and I thought it was kinda ironic):-

    I don't care if Monday's blue,
    Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too,
    Thursday I don't care about you,
    it's Friday I'm in love
    The Cure - "Friday I'm in Love" (1997)

    Today, shock horror, I actually had a funny Data Structures (no, I'm being serious..)! Yes, it was probably me, but we were talking about linked lists, another exciting way to store data. Anyway, each blob of data on the lists has something to tell you where it is, called a head. (can you see where this is going?). We had to create two functions, one to assign a 'head' to a data, the other to obtain a value of 'head'. Below is a (rough) transcript of the conversation:-

    "We will need to functions, givehead() and gethead()."
    "givehead(), that gives head to a data structure."
    "it does yes."

    At that point, due to my oh-so mature sense of humour, I erupted into laughter. I'm sure none of you found that funny, but I'm the king of the world, and this is my blog. If you don't like it, leave.

    A bigger update will probably come tonight.

    Keep the faith


    Monday, February 10, 2003

    Suddenly, Leo realised that curry he had last night wasn't such a good idea.
    Should I stay or Should I go?
    Last night we went to check out 'Catch Me If You Can', the other film out at the moment starring Leonardo DeCraprio (or whatever his name is). For those of you who haven't seen it, here's the general jist of it: American bloke, mid teens, decides to become a pilot for the only reason is that they're loaded. Doesn't make it, but pretends that he does. Also becomes a doctor and lawyer bloke to get fat paydays. He is then chased by big nasty Tom Hanks guy all around the world for major fraud type situation, whilst shagging some bird called Brenda (who everybody assumed I fancied on the account that we both have braces). All in all: Top Spielberg based true story adaptation for family viewing!

    In other news
    Today, thanks to the afformentioned brace needing the ever so slight adjustment, I've been to the dentist. Fortunately, I missed Data Structures. I'm probably still going to have to write a grovelling letter though. Never mind.

    As Nu-Metal Fathers Korn once sang "I'm here to Stay". Well, in Liverpool up until Friday (at the earliest). After Friday, I haven't a clue. Like everything, there are pros and cons (or "Costs and Benefits", if you're to be an Economic Twat) for both sides. Lets look at them shall we:-

    Chesney Hawkes: Did he sing owt else?
    Reasons For Staying

    • I may just get a Valentine's Day card (see more in the next bit).
    • I get to see Chesney Hawkes (he sang student anthem "I am the One and Only", and not much else, if you needed to know).
    • I don't miss Data Structures on Monday morning.

    Reasons for Going

    • Okay, let me be realistic, there is more chance of Elvis returning to Earth on a UFO that lands on the Loch Ness Monster's head than me getting a Valentine's Day card. I haven't exactly set anybody's life alight with my presence.
    • The bar is playing a stupid game to get singletons like me together, and I really cannot be arsed with it.
    • I miss Chesney Hawkes.
    • I don't spend as much money.
    • I miss Data Structures on Monday morning.

    This week is going to be a busy week, so I'll decide later the time. I'll let you know [guitar solo] should I stay or should I go.

    Right I'm off now, someone has walked into the computer room and he smells funny.

    Keep The Faith


    I suppose it had to happen
    The two biggest communties on the net had to hit head on to one another now again. The blogging and pointless quizzes have met head on to form [drum roll] "Which Blogging Tool Are You!" [trumpet playing]. As I'm currently struggling for content. Here's my results.

    You are a very conservative and introverted person. You live in your own world and you're not very easy to approach.

    Which Blogging Tool Are You?

    There we go. Another proof that I probably won't get a Valentines Card. Like I care. Expect to see similar boxes like the one above on a number of websites within the next 24 hours.

    Keep the Faith


    Sunday, February 09, 2003

    Those older members members of the audience may say "oooh...the next line is 'just one look at you it happens every time'", which is correct. Unfortunately, this isn't that next line round on Never Mind The Buzzcocks. This also isn't the 1970's, and The Carpenters are, unfortunately, long gone. The title refers to a game, and me finding my love for it once again earlier on today.

    Oooh, there's that wierd gothic bunt that has only annoyed me so far.
    The Year is 1996. Atlanta stages the debaccle of the Summer Olympics, which only succeeded to tell us that the yanks could commericalise even the bible if they so please, this was only matched by our homelands winning a decriepid 1 gold medal, sandwhiching us inbetween Kazakstan and the Cayman Islands on the Medal Table, and the world of gaming was turned upside down with the (second) greatest game of the world's best running series*, Final Fantasy.

    Final Fantasy 7 achieved the hardest feat in the world ever, it made turn-based RPG's popular in the Western World. Why? Well, it was totally different from most RPG's (the exception being FF6). The story was fantastic, the characters were brilliantly living, and there was enough distractions to keep you busy for a long long time. After 7, I kinda fell out of the series (I bought 8, but never got into it). I picked up Final Fantasy 10 today. It's fucking brilliant. I'm not going to give an explination why, as it just is, however, here's what I've noticed so far, after nearly two straight hours of playing:-

    • 00 hours 10 minutes: First thing, what a cool way to enter your name?! Never thought that before. I chose the name that strikes fear into do-badders worldwide. Rhys.
    • 00.30: First thing this game reminds me of is Futurama. Guess it's the whole bloke gets transported 1000 years into the future type situation that kicked it off. Or the guy's voice is Fry's of Futurama (interesting fact. There, don't say I'm not educational).
    • 00.41: The game then takes me off to think about that Busted song. Especially the line "Well I've been to the Year 3000, not much has changed but they live underwater.". Probably cos we're in and around 2000, and (for all you mathemeticians out there) 2000+1000=3000. Also because that the lovingly named weird pants guy Rhys has spent more time in the water than the Colin Cod of the Cod Family. Right on two occasions.
    • 00.50: Ooh, underwater battles.....LETSAVIT!
    • 01.10: Blitzball, looks quite interesting. See so many links with the beautiful game. They are a) Everybody loves it; b) Rhys gets mobbed in a David Beckham type situation.
    • 01.11: Another Link found! The anchovies (or whatever his team's called) bears more than a striking resemblence to Sheffield Wednesday. The reasons are:-
      1. They're crap.
      2. They don't play to win.
      3. They're crap.
      4. One of their blokes looks a lot like former Sheffield Wednesday 'great' Carlton Palmer.
      5. One of their blokes is as useful as former Sheffield Wednesday 'great' Carlton Palmer.
      6. They're crap.
      As Nirvana once sang, I know I'm right.
    • 01.30: Rhys-formally-known-as-Tidus is a selfish, annoying, twat. Rather like me!
    • 01.41: Rhys-formally-known-as-Tidus has two women fighting over him. Unlike me, as I usually have

    Anyway I've run out of things to say about FFX, but, by god, it's fantastic.

    |EDIT| Dammit! This post was supposed to go up last night, but I got tired. Why? Was it because it was 1am? Was it because I spent all day in the bookies swimming pool losing a few pounds? Or was it because at this time I was speaking to some bird, and she sent me to sleep?

    Oooh decisions, decisions.

    Keep the Faith


    *Okay, admittedly Sonic and Street Fighter have slightly better games, however, each one is disjointed. FF series run nicely into each other.

    Friday, February 07, 2003

    A Push Me Pull You: The only thing that remotely links to this post..
    The Art of Pushing
    Like that Pirate Radio Station that operates on 10.4FM, very few people are on my wavelength. I can come across at being, to be polite, unique. Generally, and really quite fortunately, you son of a bitches just love me for it. In all seriousness, I do consider myself to be a bit out there sometimes, and come up with wierd and wonderful ways to have a night out. One of which is 'pushing'.

    Pushing, quite simply, is the opposite of 'pulling'. I practice this art when some bird comes up to me and, let me be honest here, not really a picture. To avoid embarrassment for her by me saying "no", or for me by me saying "I'm flattered, but I'm gay", I practice 'Pushing'. To nail this art to a fine tuned piece of diplomatic workmanship, you have to lose all sense of pride and self-preservation to almost the levels of Steve-O.

    This your bird? Practice The Art of Pushing!
    The Pitch
    You know with pulling that you have to make yourself look as appealing as possible to your possible bedded victim? Well, in pushing, you do the opposite! Make yourself look like the most vile, disgusting human being on the planet. Of course, I'm not talking about making yourself look like a serial killer or owt like that, just a bit disgusting. Words like "I vomitted twenty times last night!" work well, as does "Deoderant is against my religion". Soon enough he/she (it does work for birds, try it!) is so repulsed by you that she will dissappear into the sunset, leaving you with the evening to freely enjoy as you so may please.

    Okay, so I don't do this all the time, as it's a bit of a fine art. Also, I don't want the whole pub/club/strip joint thinking I'm the bastard child of Rab C. Nesbitt and The Slobs. However, it has worked in the past, and it worked last night. Result!

    And my mates wonder why I've never had a serious girlfriend. Or indeed any form of girl.

    In other News
    Anybody notice how steamingly hot it was last night (I'm talking in temperature, not friskyness)? Apparently little over a week after snow we have hit a bit of a day-long heatwave. Who said CFC's don't fuck us up?

    If you are dumb, and couldn't tell from the line "it worked last night", you may be interested to know that last night, yes, I went out! Walkabout (as always) was the destination, and the band came from the "Nirvana? Greenday? Pfft, give me Queen and mid-80's posse" School of Covering Songs. This isn't a bad thing, just slightly narked me (as I was half expecting Nirvana). It was a good night, despite the fact that I didn't get to bed until 4am-ish.

    |EDIT| Quick stupid story: As any person from Malbro cigarettes wouldn't testify, kids get into smoking. I'm beyond caring people young enough to be my kids (that saying I started puberty at 3) are smoking fags nowadays, but one of the funniest I saw today. Me and Richard (and a few of Richards 'mates', suprising as I thought he had none) were waiting for the bus at the hive of activity that is Colwyn Bay Station. All of a sudden, out of my peripheral vision was the most scruffiest kid smoking a fag. He was obviously embarrassed by his nicotine habit as he was hiding behind the bus stop. The only problem really was that the daft bastard didn't realise that the whole bus top was made from 100% transparent Perspex.

    Okay, so this isn't my most "wow! that Rhysie bastard, man he can sure write" post, but I'm tired. Now bugger off.

    Keep the Faith


    Thursday, February 06, 2003

    Why am I really here?
    In my utter bordemness experiencing at the moment, I took one of those 'Personality Tests: Hey, if you own a blog, you can fill it up all day with these, and 9 out of 10 stupid people cannot tell the difference". Anyway, here are my results of the "Are You a Goth, Trendy or Alternative":-

    Goth 15%
    Trendy 30%
    Alternative 55%

    Conclusion: "Quite how you can be both trendy and alternative at the same time it's difficult to see, but, if the test is actually working properly (hah!), then you may be one of those popular kinds of people who pretend to be stupid just so they can cope with the inanity of their peers."

    And there you have it, I'm "Trendily Alternative". Suppose that's a good thing.
    To take the test, you know you want to, click here

    I hopefully will have a bigger, more fun, post about fun stuff later (I've been inspired to write about some video games after reading Edge this lunchtime, so I may do that).

    Keep the Faith


    Wednesday, February 05, 2003

    As of now, to use the technical term, I am properly bricking it. A few people have had their exam results back from their course, and I haven't. However, all I've heard is that some of the students in our course aren't fantastic, to say the least. However, this doesn't mean that this applies to me, but me, being a little worrying blighter, thinks that it does. Already I am running through my head where did I go wrong. Crap revision? Crap exam? Crap Lecturers? Crap Handwriting?

    The sad thing is that I'm not to arsed about re-sitting really. It's just one of those things. I'm used to it. However, I have never, ever failed anything in my life. Not being arrogent (honest), but my record is flawless. Sure, I've had D's and E's before, no biggy, but never the dreaded 'F'. Maybe a failure would kick me up my ass to do better, or maybe it would lead me into a depression like no other.

    I'm naturally laid back, and, to quote from Lionel Ritchie, I'm easy like Sunday Morning. The only thing I'm scared about is failure, and not living upto people's expectations. Nuclear war? Pfft...doesn't affect me one bit. However, failure does. I want to prove to everybody that I'm the best at everything I do. Some call me conceited in this thought, some call me competitive. I don't care really, it's just the way I am.

    Keep the Faith


    Tuesday, February 04, 2003

    Whilst on the subject of annoying quizmasters from Liverpool...
    Artificial Intellegence
    I'll be brutally honest, I'm not stupid. However, I am prone for the occasional, to use a technical term, 'Cock-up'. The only problem is due to me hating all forms of current affairs, politics and historical facts, I'm not thr best person for pub quizzes. I know a bit (my knowledge of WWF 1989-2003 is unprecidented, as is my video game knowledge) to do okay in almost every pub quiz, but usually I just end up confused or stumped at questions. We have a pretty good team, unlike Sheffield Wednesday, who, like Sheffield Wednesday, haven't tasted glory for ages. However last night we should of won.

    The round in question was a picture board round. We got ten famous cars (ie. Startsky + Hutch, Thunderbirds etc.) and we had to name the car makes. One of my mates' dad was a mechanic, and some of the knoweldge was passed on genetically to the child. Most wasn't. However, this was soon put right by a quick phone call to the afformented father. Oh the wonders of modern technology. It only turned out that including that round, by golly, we won.

    However, it turned out that the competition were overly intelligent PE teachers, and they didn't understand the car round. The 'Quiz matser' did the only thing possible with 200-odd PE teachers with their hockey sticks and whistles charging at them, and cancelled the round.

    Like half of the people down at Colwyn Bay station after 6pm, I was pissed. Quietly pissed, but pissed nontheless. However, some of my team wouldn't let it lie. Maybe because it was a just cause, or maybe, being students, they saw 50 quid, and they went all incensed. We didn't get our desicion overturned. Shame really, because we really, really could of used 50 notes.

    In Other News
    Today consisted of another Dull Data Structures and also a Software Development lecture. This was eye opening in the fact that we got a "Standerdised Lists Of Guidlines" piece of crap that we're supposed to adhere to if we are to write proffessional quality software. Unfortunately, I probably broken about three quarters of the rules on that piece of paper. Bugger.

    Finally. What have me and David Beckham got in common? No, not the fact that we can both hit cracking free kicks, silly, but the fact that we are both fasion icons. We lead, and all of you follow on behind quite literally like Lemmings off a cliff. It's quite an achievement, but if I went outside with a binbag over my head, litle under half the world's population would wear have the carbon-plastic headpiece a week after. With great power comes great responsibly, and I have to keep looking my best. Imagine my horror when yours truly woke up with a zit. This is my first zit of this year and probably, this milennium, as my pubo-riffic days are confined to the 20th Century. To be frank, I can see why appearance are the second highest cause of teenage suicide (the highest being forced to listen to dance music) in the UK, as those cheeky zitty blighters are killing me. How did I survive puberty? To be honest, I haven't a fucking clue.

    Keep The Faith


    Monday, February 03, 2003

    What Musings should really mean..
    Random Musings
    Firstly, what the fuck does "Musings" mean? Whenever I think of the word Musings (What? Well what the hell else do I do in Data Structures then?) I usually think of that cheeky blighter Matt Bellamy of the band Muse in the center of a Hendrix-esque guitar solo or something to do with the band. Answers on a postcard please. Again, moving on, this post is quite literally a number of shorter posts compressed together for your blogging amusement.

    If you couldn't tell already from a combination of reading the weekend's posts and using the kind of logic that would make Dr. Spock bow his Vulcan (**PJ: Alright Dickson!) head in shame, then you would know that I went home for the weekend, to experience all of home life's wonders. Incidentally, I set a record for the longest time I've ever been away from home before that (yeah, I'm a mammy's boy, kiss my arse), so, I did notice a lot of changes at home.

    Admittedly not massive changes such as the house was painted pink or summit, just, y'know, the little things. The different coloured toothpaste, the new auction channel on Digital, the floor being fixed in my bedroom and everything smelling just peachy. Well, they did, until I readered my cider-stroke-vomit-stroke-unbathed-stench head. For those of you with the logic skills of the average Big Brother contestant, I'd like to mention that I am heading home this coming weekend, to have a checkup on my teeth.

    After another "Dull as Data Structures" Data Structures lecture, I browsed the web as per norm. One thing I did notice, that would make That Bloke From Star Trek and The (Second) Best British Blogging Bloke roll over numerous times in excitement is that apparently those "It was cool until I wasn't nominated" awards were found to be a bit of a fix by, amongst others one Texan Bloke with a lot of mates and a lot of time on their hands asked his mates to all vote for him or else he would give a wedgie to them. Thus, the wedgie-fearing Texans voted in droves for this bloke, making him leader in almost all catagories. Texan's rigging elections? Sounds strangely familiar (ooh political).

    One Big Sunday: AKA PAAAARRRTTYYY!!
    One final bit of ego increasing. The year is 2000. Nobody is quite sure who is the Prime Minister of Russia is, the UK is gripped in the midst of "The Summer of 1 Love", where dance music is actually cool, and the world wakes up in the new millenium to find out that the only "Apocalyptic Nightmare" is in the head, probably due to an excess amount of alcohol. Me, as a wee nipper at 16, sat my GCSE's. After that, I had a new fangled internet connection, and I was not afraid to use it. I signed up for Hot Or Not, a site where Egomaniacs (like myself) can post pictures of themselves and normal people (like everybody else) can come onto the site and give your ego a kicking in the glimmer of hope that someone, somewhere, gives you a 10/10. They never did. I ended up (I think) with an "Actually Quite Respectable" 6.3/10. I didn't think that at the time, as my ego was the size of Denmark. I was expecting my zitty, pale, image of myself to get high 9's. So I removed the picture.

    So why do I mention this? Well, I overheard on the bus on the way back from Uni that this bloke had put his picture on it, and got a rather wiggly 3.7! And he didn't have a fat belly! Result!

    Keep The Faith


    **PJ stands for "Private Joke". As the word of this blog increases, a lot of people (usually the silent majority) who regularly visit this site are people who know me "know me". Basically, it's a joke that all you who have the priveledge of knowing me in real life would understand, so everybody else, tough, I'm not explaining it.

    Saturday, February 01, 2003

    Losing My Religion
    Despite making his name for being a manager for the scummy Liverpool (FC, not the Uni, or the city), I respect that the late Bill Shankly did have a great way in press handling. On the all time greatest quotes about fotty, ol' Willy features promenantly in the top ten. Two of my favourites are the following:-

    1. "Football is not a matter of life and death, it's more important than that."
    2. "A player that needs inspiring is not a player."
    What do these mean? Well, both had a take on what happened this afternoon.

    Like many Brits up and down the country, football is almost a religion to me. Controversially, according to some readers, I am a Manchester United fan. However, as well as that, I also support my local team Colwyn Bay. However, after an unbelivably dismal performance today, I'm strongly considering stopping supporting actively one side.

    Sure, I wouldn't be complaining if, like West Ham most of the season, Colwyn Bay have been performing. The fact is they are uninspired, indifferent individuals who made not a single passionate attack on goal. One thing I must point out is that I'm not fantastic at football. I'm awful in fact. However, I try. They didn't today. We lost in our biggest game (so far) of the season 2-0 to a team that, not only we haven't heard of them, but the town they came from we didn't even know. Not sure who they were, but they were chanting summit like "Come On Ebbw Vale". If they were Ebbw Vale in disguise, then they're could of been a bit of a kicking off type situation on the League of Wales scumbags by the Colwyn Bay faithful. Well, there would of been a few years ago. The "Colwyn Bay Faithful" now consists of me, couple of 70 year olds, the player's wives, and a dog called spanky who given half a chance would run on and hump the ref's leg.

    Anyway, final score: Colwyn Bay a rather pants 0, some unknown team a "We go marching on in the cup" 2, immediately after the game, there was a bit of an arguement, complaining that we (the fans) show no commitment.

    I think it works both ways lads.

    Keep the Faith


    **The above post may seem damning to C.P.D. Colwyn Bay. It's not intended to be. I will continue to support them. However, I am finding it hard to pay £3 (yes, I know, only £3) to watch a team that don't give us our money's worth.**

    |EDIT| Shite, just heard about that shuttle crash. Sort of pales the above into insigifigence. My thoughts and prayers go out to those involved in this tragic accident.

    Back So Soon?
    I'm writing this against my will. Last few days I've been a little worse for wear, and my stomach, like my mates porno collection, is still a little dodgy. The only reason I'm writing this is regular-reader-stroke-totally-unfunny-brother Richard held me at gunpoint today, wanting an update. Being the caring son of a gun that I am, I'll let you know what I've been upto recently.

    t.A.T.u: This is not enough...apparently
    Dispite having a dicky stomach, I've had two nights out in the past two days. Wednesday night consisted with a sober (and I mean properly sober, I only drank water, due to my cheapstake nature healthy new attitude) trip to night in the student's union. Now, for those of you who've never experienced one of these nights, the general jist is that someone with fantastic taste in music and probably a bloke (or a very kinky lesbian) thought " about having a night whereby blokes and birds dress up in school uniform of some form, whereby we play old tunes that everybody likes, then have some people dressed up acting like morons, and get paid fantastically loads to put these nights on.". Well, it worked, and dispite the fact that anybody who works at the Daily Mail would have a field day there, due to unfeasibly short skirts, stockings and people wanting to look like those t.A.T.u birds, and also I cannot seem to remember a School Disco I went to where I wore my Pen-Y-Bryn school uniform, instead wore home clothes, it is a good night. However, I probably sweated more that night than my last two weeks on my exercise program, oh well, every little helps.

    Thursday night consisted of a trip to Walkabout, which is an Aussie themed club with, again, fantastic music. I only went out because it was a mate of mine's 19th birthday. If it wasn't, I would of stayed in. While my stomach has been unreliable, up until 3am this morning, it's been fine. However, due to me eating very little, and drinking a little, meant that I was awfully ill last night. The worst thing was that I wasn't really drunk. Usually when I'm toasted, I complain a lot about how crap current games are compared to their C64 and Atari ST counterparts, and especially why FIFA is the work of the devil. I kept sctum all night really, so I definately wasn't drunk. For a change.

    Today was the announcement of the website we are supposed to be making for COMP106. If you've just woken from a chocolate induced coma, there is a bit about it at the end of this post. In anyway, the subject of the "Rhys Wynne's time to shine" is Liverpool: European City of Culture. Now, as you pick yourselves off the floor after the shock and horror of such a quality project, you would probably see the kind of irony in the title. Nevertheless, I should own on this.

    Keep the Faith


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