The Art of Rhysisms

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

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Runner up in the best tagline catagory of 2004 Bloggies

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

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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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Thursday, August 26, 2004

Back back back back....IT'S GOOD!*
One of my favourite bits of web slang is 'killing kittens'. I use it regulary in knowledgeable circles. However, I wouldn't call myself a kitten killer (as in the sense of actually killing kittens, as opposed to the other meaning).

Until today.


Awwww bless.....
Okay, I claim innocence and ignorance on this. I don't think I actually killed a kitten, and it's not my fault. Let me explain.

Tonight was spent at my local pub, The Pen-Y-Bryn (yes, my local has a website....who said I live in a posh area?). After a few bevvies and talking about the sort of crap that can only be talked about over drinks (I'll explain this later). We headed home.

For anybody not living in the good ol' Blighty, you would notice we're experience shite weather at the moment. Yes, it's been pissing it down in such a way I haven't heard owt about global warming for ages. Again, it was sheeting it down, and I made the decision that one makes when one is wearing a brand new top from Topman.

I legged it.

Yes, in a practically Olympian display, I ran as fast as my ugly, pale, Welsh legs could carry me. I had my eyes dead forward. Focussed on going home.

Which caused a major problem. About 3 blocks away from the finish line of home sweet home, a ginger blur came into my peripheral vision. Unable to stop, I kicked it in such a way that Johnny Wilkinson would be proud of, and a large yelp was heard. A kitten scrawling yelp that has not been heard by my ears since I was four and I accidentally elbowdropped my Nans cat.

I was sorry then, and I am sorry now. I would of stopped, but bollocks to that, it was raining cats (no pun intended) and dogs. So, if you are reading this three doors down (the house, not the American Soft Rock Band), I am truly, truly sorry. It's not my fault. Please don't sue.

Fact of Life
A distinct lack of social life over the past half week has caused me to do some thinking. Yeah, I know it's bad for me, but here's some things I've noticed: -
  • Would a slinky on an escalator count as perpetual motion?
  • If people are so hung up about their weight, why are there scales in the middle of Boots?
  • Incidentally, who actually goes into Boots and thinks "mmm, I really want to know my weight!"?
  • I've been addicted to Yahoo Chat recently (yeah, I know I appear about 15 now). But I have actually met some people who aren't complete dickheads (always a bonus). But, with the wonders of internet chat and other forms of communication, why are you always more impressed when you are speaking to someone who lives down the end of your road compared to someone in Greenland?
  • Okay, not much constructive thinking, but still thinking nonetheless. My life is boring at the moment. I'll resort to wiping out the Colwyn Bay cat population by kicking them.

    RSPCA, arrest me now.

    Keep the faith.

    Rhys

    * Wow, a shitty American Football referenced title. Aren't I multicultral?


    Sunday, August 22, 2004

    Where's Daley Thompson?
    As my ego has been taking a hiding this past week (from STEP Merseyside Champion to burger flipper in around 6 days), so sorry for lack of updates. Also I've been drinking quite heavily, and watching the Olympics.

    Ah yes, the 'lympics (as can be shortened to) is the pinnacle of sporting activity. Patrioticism, the fact that Team GB are not completely shite this time around, seeing the French cry, beach volleyball. There are many reasons why I love the Olympics. However, more important than all this is that there is nirvana - 24 hours sport coverage.

    First, an insight into the male psyche. Men are naturally competitive, and what is better than actually competiting in a football/rugby/cricket/drinking competition, than watching another competition? So, although I am not generally a lazy person, I could quite happily sit in front of the TV for days on end faking an interest in....say....fencing. However, here are a list of sports that are...well, actually pretty ace.


    Beach Volleyball: Like Porn, at 10am
    Three Day Eventing
    Fuck me, why is it so compelling? First of all: Dressage. Why are they giving an Olympic gold in...well...looking pretty? Christ, if there was a human equivalent, I'd be Olympic champion now. You may think 'bad start', and you'd be right. However the Cross Country is fantastic. I have no idea why. Maybe the funny shaped fences of windmills, maybe the water jumps, maybe the chance of seeing Jean-Pierre Frenchman have a meeting with solid log curteosy of Mr. Gravity and Mrs. Frenchy Ineptude, but it's good.

    Show jumping's okay as well. But man, it aint no Cross Country.

    Badminton
    Fuck tennis, we're shite at that. However, we're decent at badminton, and I enjoy to play it now and again. However I've never really watched it on telly. Now that I have, it's bloody good fun to watch. Kinda bit like table tennis, but more movement. Bonus!

    Beach Volleyball
    For obvious resons.

    So, whilst the Olympics are on (and whilst Britain are doing so brilliantly), updates may be a bit spazmodic. Hell, you're used to it by now.

    Fantasy Football Update
    The Art Of Rhysisms All Star Superleague continues, but early runner Jake has dropped to second, with late comer "La Resistance" taking the league. See, you can still win now we're two weeks in, JOIN NOW!!!!

    Result!
    Although he did better than me, and also is my supervisor, and going to Carling Leeds Festival, and on £1 an hour more than me, I'd just like to say congrats to my brother, who got 2 A's (Maths and Further Maths) and 2 B's (Chemistry and General Studies*) in his A-Levels. Complements will not be nescessary.

    Keep the faith.

    Rhys

    * Yes, I'm quite aware nobody counts General Studies. Least of all me, with my pathetic D. Morals my ass.


    Wednesday, August 18, 2004

    Big, fat, hairy, sweaty.....
    ...bollocks. Seems like I'm "Chronologically Inept" by tagline and nature, as Monday's post went up on Friday night, meaning my triumphant return fizzled out quicker that a opening a flat bottle of coke. Oh well, I'll take this opportunity to talk about some exciting points in my life and once again pimp THE ART OF RHYSISMS FANTASY FOOTBALL SUPERLEAGUE! For more details on how to join, click here, but for those who are faily saavy on t'internet, here's the main details:-

    Website: http://uk.premiership.fantasysports.yahoo.com
    Group ID: 13533
    Password: blog
    Are you American and no sod all about proper football? Well, Jake will freely admit he doesn't know his Luther Blisset's from his blisters, and would you Adam and Eve it, he's winning the league at the moment.

    The fucker.

    I'm a Wynne-er!*
    As the last six weeks would explain, I've been busy working a job at this lot making a CD-ROM and this website. Now that it is finished, was it worth it?


    Look! That's me that is!
    Damn right it was.

    You see, as it wasn't technically a job (it was part of the STEP training program). So we had to do a report and a presentation on top of the work we did. I didn't mind, as we got a free day out in Everton, with the best presentation winning a little bit of money and progress to the regional final.

    Guess who won?

    Me mum was dead chuffed, if slightly confused (she works in a bank):-

    "Hi mum, you still paying in cheques?"
    "Yes, why?"
    "Just want you to pay in my winners cheque."
    "Okay, just give me your account number."

    [Long Silence, mum breaks it]

    "Well, it will go through tomorrow. If that's okay."
    "Yes, just wondering if you wouldn't mind filling in the forms to pay in my winners cheque, nudge nudge, wink wink."
    "Oh right! Yeah, um, well done. Sorry about that!"
    She was smiling on the inside I bet.

    Anyway, I met lots of interesting people, gained tons of experience and slowly clearing (not gone yet) my overdraft during my eight weeks on the STEP programme. It's definitely been worth it, even if it had meant sacrificing my blog.

    Sorry.

    Keep the faith.

    Rhys

    * I'm truly, truly sorry....


    Monday, August 16, 2004

    I'm back, and I'm better than ever.
    Hello! Like Bruce Willis, I'm back with a vengance, and I've knocked up a quick post. Actually, that's a lie, as the bit you lot are reading at the moment is 6 weeks of work. Probably a world record for the longest blog entry written? I'll claim it. Here's some of the bigger days of the past six weeks.

    July 4th 2004
    Bugger me, the Greek's won. Who saw that coming eh? Spent next day in work claiming that Wales play a similar style to the Greeks, and trying to convince a work colleauge that we will beat England in the world cup qualifiers (which, lets face it, we will).

    July 6th 2004
    Went to Barracuda in Liverpool for the first time in ages with coursemates that are up in Liverpool for partying. Loads of new fit barmaids working there. Christen the fittest "Brady", just to the fact that she has braided hair.

    July 7th 2004
    Came in from work to find an inflatable sheep with a large black vibrator lodged in it's jacksi lying on my bed.
    "Which fucking knobshite fucking did this?" I screamed.
    "I did." Said my housemate. "And me nan's next door."
    Bollocks, I'm going to hell.

    July 7th 2004 - A Little Later On
    Managed to recognise the pool hall in Hollyoaks: After Hours as our local pool hall - Kiss The Red. Get excited, ring mate who doesn't appreciate being woken at half midnight with work at 6. Arses.

    July 9th 2004
    Somehow managed to get refused from a bar (Lloyd's in Concert Square, add it to your "bars must not visit" list readers!) despite being sober, showing ID and launching into a tirade of how I've used the same ID before to the barman. He weren't having it. Get in a huff and go home and drink alcoholic contents of fridge - can of Tetleys and half a bottle of Lambrini. Wake up next morning with head throbbing like a teenager's penis. Isn't helped by mate leaving a message on voicmail saying "I've met this girl who really wants to meet you, I've described you to her and she said he sounds like my ideal man.". That, my refusal and me being a wishful thinker has come to the conclusion that Lloyds cost me the chance of getting laid. Bastards.

    July 14th 2004
    House has been empty for a few days now, so I've been - to quote Queen - Livin' on my own. As such I've become addicted to Big Brother, Hollyoaks and a mole that has appeared on my face. I mean, I've always had a small mole there (it's just on the left side of my face, about 3/4 distance between my ear and my top lip), but I cut myself shaving there one day pretty bad, and it's gotten bigger, darker and lumpier. Anyway, it's been driving me nuts. Mole, if you're reading this (and I think you are, seeing as - you know - you are attached to my face), BUGGER OFF!

    July 17th 2004
    Weighed myself today, found I am a prim and proper 14.3 stone - the lightest I've been since the age of six. Yay! Almost immediately after, find out that girl from July 9th post is only interested in me because a mate of mine says I was a 'big man', and she is into that sorta thing. Spend rest of day wondering if there is a god, and what the hell have I done to piss him off.

    In other news, I watched "Never Been Kissed" - after a reccommendation from a friend. At the risk of soundling like a big girls blouse, romantic comedy is becoming my second favourite type of movie (behind porn). I had serious (albeit, manly) tears streaming down my face.

    July 22nd 2004
    Tis a sad day when you cannot update your offline blog, but I haven't been able to. Largely due to the house being painted and everything going anywhere. It's driving me mad. So mad in fact that I spunked out for a Sega Saturn from eBay and also accessories from Retro-Trader.com. May I just say excellent quality of service from the latter, and they restored my faith in internet shopping (after I screwed up big time in my order - who said I'm doing this for a degree?).

    July 26th 2004
    Amongst the articles that my mate left when he left the house, was a collection of skin mags. They had been locked in his room, waiting for the new owner to arrive. He arrived, and found said magazines. Being in a pretty stable relationship (to a girl who does taekwondo), he promptly passes the filth onto me. Do I want used porn? Do I thump! Need to figure out how to 'get rid'.

    In other news, Sega Saturn is amazing. Been playing Athelete Kings with getting rid of porn mate. Claims he got 8.88s on the 100m, but 'forgot to save it'.

    July 27th 2004
    Looking through filth out of pure curiosity. Reach page 35. Say out loud: "I know her!".

    July 29th 2004
    I don't condone hitting women (or indeed men for that matter), but Michelle from Big Brother is making me consider reconsidering.

    In other news, housemates have taken around 75% worth of 'my' (Mum, notice the inverted comma's, I am not claiming ownership of it) porn. For all you mathmeticians out there, you would know that leaves 25% worth of British barely legal filth in my room. Any inconspicuous ways to get rid of it (anything that involves explosions are a bonus).

    August 1st 2004
    Went to see King Arthur last night with a few friends. If it's wrong to appreciate the fine form of Kiera Knightly wearing little more than duct tape, then I don't want to be right.

    August 2nd 2004
    Some bastard seagull shat on me today.

    August 7th 2004
    Nice to see I'm not the only one who get's questioned about their boyish good looks in bars. Mate of mine gets ID'ed in Weatherspoons in Liverpool.

    The irony? He was ordering a coke.

    August 7th 2004 - Later On
    Went to a mate's 21st birthday party. I tell you, if it's wrong to be 20, and still love bouncy castles, then I don't want to be right.

    August 9th 2004
    Went down the Giant's Whores-way today, on the way to Kwik Save. Now I used to live down there, and as such I didn't get hassled by the...ahem...ladies of the night who applied their trade. Not because I was ugly, but because I was a local. Not so today:-
    Prossie: 'ello darlin'. My, you're making me wet today.
    Me: No, that's the rain.

    Anyway, that's it. As you can see, I haven't really been upto anything exciting. Expect full reports from the Welsh Mountain Zoo soon.

    Keep the faith.

    Rhys


    Wednesday, August 11, 2004

    A Teaser Before Returning
    Hello again! Nope, I'm not - as Take That would say - back for good, but there are a couple of things that I need to say before I make my triumphant return on Monday.

    Gary Neville's Homo-Erotic Moments in Football
    The new footy season is back this Saturday! Okay, the new "Coca-Cola Championship" (spits) has already begun, but the Premiership begins this weekend. As such, the Fantasy Fooball Season also begins. It's simple: pick 11 players and hope that those 11 spunk all over the Premiership week in, week out.

    I've joined the Yahoo! Fantasy Football league. Reason being is that it's brilliant, and you can also have "Mini-Leagues": leagues containing mates, work collagues, families and - in some cases - random people.

    Which is where you lot come in.

    You see, I've created a Mini-League for this blog: TAOR All-Star Superleague, and want as many people out there in blogging land to join. Doesn't matter if you know nothing about football, as I'm sure you won't be the only one. So that nobody screws up, here's how to join.

    1. Go to http://uk.fantasysports.yahoo.com/football
    2. Sign in with your Yahoo! account.
    3. Create a team (witty team name optional).
    4. Click on Join Group (you may need to return to the home page for this).
    5. Click on Join Existing Group.
    6. Enter the following information
      Group ID: 13533
      Group Password: blog
    7. Create your team, chat with other people, and generally do all sorts of fun footy related things.

    Anyway, in all seriousness, it can be pretty fun (if we can get around 20 of us playing, it would rule), so sign up, tell your mates, and have fun.

    Now that's a Honey
    Porn-Mag-For-12-Year-Old's FHM.com run a High Street Honey's competition every year where they try to find the most attractive (and eager) females to grace their covers.

    No, I am not in it, but I kinda know someone who is.

    A mate's, girlfriend's, best-mate's, housemate's, brother's, sister's, gardener's, nun (or summit like that) is #10. So do the right thing and vote for her (I think her name is Kate. Hmm, knowing her number but not her name, how politically correct am I?).

    Tag-Team
    "Rhys!", I hear you cry, "What are you thinking?!?". Yes, it's true. I've got bored of my 2004 Bloggie Award Nominated tagline, so I've changed it. Still pretty funny methinks.

    I Don't Like Mondays
    Well, I'm gone for the weekend. I'm writing this in an undisclosed location, which means I can't talk about it. Nevertheless, for those of you who have updated your blogrolls and removed me (for shame), you may now re-include me. Need some incentive? Here is a snippet of the post that will be hiawge and gracing this blog on Monday:-


    Went down the Giant's Whores-way today, on the way to Kwik Save. Now I used to live down there, and as such I didn't get hassled by the...ahem...ladies of the night who applied their trade. Not because I was ugly, but because I was a local. Not so today:-
    Prossie: 'ello darlin'. My, you're making me wet today.
    Me: No, that's the rain.

    More stories of overzealous bar staff, drinking, pornography, crying after Drew Barrymoore films, bowling success stories, Sega Saturn gaming (which prompted us to design a mural to honour the legendary Karl Vain), bouncy castles and six long weeks of hard grafting will be up on Monday.

    Now shuffle along now, before somebody catches me blogging before my return date.

    Keep the faith.

    Rhys


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    This site is (C) Rhys Wynne 2002. All copyrights are registered trademarks of their respective owners. I cannot be responsible for any of my software not working on anybody else's computer, and any actions carried out by third parties as a result of anything read on this site. Everything written on this blog is true. However, all these events are recalled from memory, and some of the events may have been altered by my mind or alcohol. So some experiences (usually the ones involving drink) are exaggerated.

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