I'm a fanny... Here's a poem.

I can see from my window the bench where we sat. Passing the time with endless chit chat.

The closest of friends, before we were lovers. That friendship remained while embraced under covers.

You'll struggle to find a stronger connection. I fell for your heart and beauty perfection.

Your dazzling wit, your kindness and charm. I was lucky to briefly have you on my arm.

Sometimes I'm afraid of what you might say. The truths you'll reveal as you pull away.

The pain that I feel is an acceptable cost, if someday you reclaim the love that you lost.

I know that it's over, as heartache has called. But I pray it's not final, just currently stalled.

Your silence is awful, for ever I fear. But my love is eternal, be it weeks, months or years.

I've Lost That Twitter Feeling

It seems that I have been struggling with Twitter lately. As the lovely Mr @diaryofaledger once put it, for which I abused him endlessly, I may have lost my Twitter Mojo.

Now, this isn't a case of, as seems to happen with a lot of other people, me deciding that Twitter is getting in the way of my work/love life, or that I got in trouble for using it, or that some episode on Twitter has angered or offended me... No, none of that. In fact, I still love Twitter, and spend quite a lot of time on it. I am just unable to think of anything worth tweeting... Those familiar with my tweets may be thinking "that's nothing new though Davie"... and if you are thinking that, I will laugh at you sarcastically and then twist your nipple.

My tweets have never been contrived, or overly thought out in the past. The majority of them have just been my natural reaction to something that has just happened in my life, something that I have seen on telly or heard on the radio, something that I have read on Twitter, or a sudden unexpected memory. I have never sat there trying to think of a joke, or set out to do something thinking "this may result in some good Twitter material". But now I find myself just reading everyones tweets, laughing to myself, responding to my @replies, and unable to think of anything original to tweet. So I don't tweet anything. And not much gets RT'd. And my follower numbers stay pretty level. Some people say "it shouldn't be about the numbers", and maybe they are right, but that is how I first noticed I had "lost my mojo".... The numbers stopped going up. This isn't a problem for me at all, I really don't mind... It just happens to be how I first noticed this.

At the same time as all this has happened, things in my personal life have taken a turn for the better. I have met someone, and although it is early days, things are going well and I'm excited about the future. A recent review in work was really positive, and I am due to take some steps to continue improving my working life. I have had an application accepted for a really nice flat on a marina, much smarter than my current flat, with gorgeous views. So things are going well.

Maybe this is the reason I'm not getting much out of Twitter these days. I find myself on Twitter less and less over the weekend as I wander endlessly around BLOODY SHOPS, or snuggle up in front of a film. I am on it less and less in work as I try and actually get stuff done. But that shouldn't affect my ability to comment on my day to day life in an extremely hilarious way... Should it?

But yet it does. It seems to me that the happier I get, the less I have to say. My creativity seems to be linked to my misery. I think my sense of humour tends to be quite dark, and at times self-depreciating. I have no problems with being crude and a bit risky with my comments, and of making light of my loneliness. That has worked for me over the past year... The year where I was dumped and subsequently took time off from stupid smelly girls. But as I get happier, I want to maintain a positive outlook on life, rather than take the piss out of myself. I want to rein back the crude comments in order to trick the person I like into believing I'm a nice person. When I do all that, it doesn't leave me with much to say.

This isn't an issue though... In fact, I don't even know why I'm writing about it. When it comes down to it, I have found someone that wants to kiss my face, and that is all I care about.

So I won't be leaving Twitter or anything... But I also won't lock myself in a dark room and struggle to think of anything worth Tweeting. I will chat to people, and when something pops up in this old noggin of mine, I will post it.

I may also start tweeting Celebrities and posting pictures of cats. That seems fun.

The Day I Met Rhod Gilbert

On Saturday, I was walking through the streets of Cardiff City Centre with a lady friend of mine. It had been a nice day up until then... A lovely day in fact, but pretty ordinary. We had wandered around some shops, we had bought some clothes. We had looked at expensive TV's, and I had even consumed a panini. But we hadn't seen any celebrities.

This was about to change.

At around 6pm we started to make our way from the Prince of Wales pub, where I was being rewarded for my tactile behaviour in TopShop with a nice cold pint of beer, towards the cinema. To get there we chose a route that brought us past the new John Lewis. Their muffins are very expensive, but delicious. I discovered this on a previous trip to Cardiff. Don't let this distract you from this exciting story.

As we were walking past a shop (I can't remember what shop it was, but I will guess at Starbucks as I have a 70% chance of being right), a couple were walking towards us. The man seemed to be looking directly into my eyes, as if to catch my attention. Coupling this with the fact that I seemed to recognise him, I assumed that I knew him some how, and that he knew me.



This is the face that confronted me. Imagine this face, not above a naked body in a bath, but above a fully clothed, walking, mans body. There may or may not have been grapes, I can't remember.

This man was still looking directly into my eyes, and we were now within a few steps of each other. I definitely recognised this man, and therefore must acknowledge this somehow. Just as I began to raise my head in the most informal of greetings - the casual inverted nod, the gentleman's gaze slipped away with a bored indifference. It was at this very moment that I realised I only knew this man from the telly... I didn't know him from real life!

Just imagine what might have happened if I had completed my nod while staring directly into his eyes. This man may have been affronted by my assumed familiarity. This comedian, famed for his long, laborious rants over minor annoyances, may well have made me the subject of his next Christmas DVD. I can see it now: "Rhod Gilbert and the Strange Man Who Dared To Casually Nod His Head At Me While Walking In Cardiff". I would have been the laughing stock of people that watch his DVD's.

And then he was past me... I could breathe again. I said to my lady friend "that was Rhod Gilbert" and she turned round, and saw the back of his head, and told all of her friends later that night, blissfully unaware as to how close we had come to verbal mutilation.

We then watched Unknown and shared some Pringles and M&M's.

That is the story about how I met Rhod Gilbert... And when I say 'met', I of course mean 'saw'... But that doesn't sound as good.

Tw1tter Band Project - The Trial

Last Friday was a pretty manic evening, but very rewarding. Old @WH1SKS had decided to escape from the harsh realities of his working life, or lack thereof, by diving head first into a cyber-music project. He details these events here, but I felt like writing a few words on the subject.

Mr WH1SKS came up with the idea of seeing if a number of relative strangers could create a piece of music together over the Internet. So on Friday he decided to run a trial... he called for musicians, vocalists, and sound engineers, and the idea was to see if, by 9pm, we could have a not too horrible version of a song recorded.

A lot of people got involved... we had a producer, a bassist, a drummer, a guitarist, a lead guitarist, a man on the keys, a mandolinist (mandoliner?) and, the crowning glory, an extremely talented, and modest, lead singer (me).

When WH1SKS was asking if I would sing on his Maggie May cover, at around 3pm as I was getting ready to leave work, I nearly declined. He wanted this to be completed in 6 hours, I had never used my recording equipment or the website we were using to upload our tracks, and I was barely familiar with the song. Actually, if I'm honest, I knew the first 2 lines of the song by heart, but had never listened any further than that. He used a combination of guilt, pressure, and the word 'prick' to get me to agree. He also promised me fame and fortune.

So I downloaded the song and listened to it on repeat all the way home. I blew the dust off my laptop and mic, and set up a nice little recording area in the flat.

I spent most of the evening practicing the vocals and getting to know the song while everyone else was putting the many elements of the song together. Recording my part was actually a fairly simple process, once I had figured out what the hell I was doing.

The producer uploaded a click track, a bass line was recorded and mixed with this. The guitarist used this to record his part, and was then added to the mix. I whacked my headphones on, and sang a long to this bass/drum/guitar track, listened to it back, was fairly happy, and clicked "upload". I thought about doing a few takes, but by this point I had sung through Maggie May about 20 times and think the people in the flat upstairs were ready to overflow their bath just to get back at me. So it was one take, done.

We had a rough track put together at the 9pm deadline, but it was a bit choppy, so I will link instead to the version that was finished 12 hours later once the keyboard, lead guitar and live drum track were added. I was quite proud of the result:

Maggie twitband mix-with organ by PaulBlackburnCompositions

Even though I didn't eat for 9 hours, got a pounding headache, and stood up a group of friends in the pub, I thoroughly enjoyed the whole experience on Friday night. My friends are pricks anyway, so that didn't really bother me... The lack of food was the real sacrifice that WH1SKS is going to have to repay. It also gave me the kick up the arse I needed to finally use all that recording equipment I had bought on impulse exactly a year before.

But what I really gained from the experience is a child-like sense of wonder at what can be achieved, relatively easily, using modern technologies and human talent. I find it incredible that a small group of strangers can put together a song while sat in their living rooms many hundreds of miles apart.

The next stage of this "Tw1tter Band Project" is for everyone to practice their parts, re-record, tighten everything up, and get it sounding as perfect as possible. I'm not sure what will be done with it then, but I know I will keep the track for ever, proud of what we have accomplished.

Once we know how to do it, and the results are good, I imagine that WH1SKS has plans for us to release a song, go on Top of the Tops, get Number 1 after Number 1, take over the world, record Spice Girls: The Movie Part 2, become addicted to drugs, enter rehab, enter Katie Price, split up, re-form, and die. You've got to have dreams.

The Gig of Shame - The Results Show

The lines are closed, the votes have been counted and verified.... And we have a winner (loser).

If you're not sure what this is about, I ran a quick poll to find the artist that people would be most embarrassed about admitting they'd seen perform live. I had 53 nominees, and 16 finalists (see the blog post below this one).

Celine Dion came out of the blocks fastest, but was only ahead for a short amount of time before Gary Glitter came from behind (and she's not his type at all...) but unfortunately old GG didn't win, and I've had to throw away all of my paedo bummer jokes. I am not happy.

For a long time we had 3 acts tied for the top spot, and despite a late but unsuccessful surge by Shane Ward, we have got our Top 3.

So without further ado, here, in reverse order, are you top 3.


In third place, with 12 votes, is.........


CHESNEY "ONLY GOT ONE SONG" HAWKES!


In second place, with 13 votes, is..........


GARY "SPARKLY SHOWER ASIAN CHILD MOLESTER" GLITTER!


And in first place, with 14 votes, is.........


STEPS "A COUPLE OF FITTIES, A GAY ONE AND THE OTHER TWO" STEPS!!


So, congratulations STEPS! The weirdos on Twitter have decided that, if they were ever tricked into watching you perform live, they would rather die than tell anyone about it. Well done you.


The 4 Twitterers that nominated Steps, so have actually watched them live and decided to tell me about it, are @ComedyFish, @Alyo23, @SophiaMutio and @Crossy33.

Steps may have won, but it is with regret that I inform you their lovable member H has recently passed away.

The Gig of Shame - The Nominees

This morning I asked you to suggest the most embarrassing gig you've ever been to. This could be a solo artist, group or band. Someone tried to get The Chuckle Brothers in Panto onto the list but I thought that would be opening up big can of worms.

It was interesting to see the sort of act that some people found embarrassing. Can you believe that someone tried to get Stereophonics and McFly onto the list? The swine.

So, I had 52 entries in all (and I will list them all below), but we will concentrate on only the 16 that had 2 or more nominations. It will be down to you lot to vote on which of the 16 you think is the most embarrassing act.

Your 16 finalists, in no particular order (apart from descending alphabetically), are:

Please vote. You can vote either by clicking on the poll (top right), or tweeting me @DavieLegend

The vote will close when I am bored of this.

If you are interested in the full list of nominations, they are as follows:

• 5ive


• ABC


• Apache Indian


• Atomic Kitten


• B*witched


• Bitty McLean


• Bros


• Bubba Sparxx


• Bucks Fizz


• Charles & Eddie


• Chas and Dave


• Craig David


• D*Ream


• Daphne & Celeste


• Haddaway


• Jason Donovan


• Kula Shaker


• Let Loose


• Madonna


• Marilyn Manson


• MC Hammer


• Meatloaf


• Paul Young


• Peter Andre


• Rod Stewart


• Runrig


• Scouting For Girls


• Shaggy


• Shakin Stevens


• The Darkness


• The Levellers


• The Nolans


• Tina Turner


• Vanilla Ice


• Venga Boys


• Yazz

I apologise if any of these acts are spelt incorrectly, or don't even exist, as I haven't heard of half of them and couldn't be bothered to research each one.

Mr & Mrs Littlest Hero

It has been two whole weeks, to the hour, since I received that phone call that I so wanted to talk about, but wasn't allowed to. In that time we've had tears, stress, laughter, beer, headaches and cupcakes.... Oh, and a wedding.

Lee rang me on the Tuesday (yes, I can say his name now), and had to stay in London, supporting his girlfriend Gina and her family, until Sunday. He organised a lot of the wedding over the phone, before finalising the details when he got back to Pembrokeshire on Sunday evening. There were of course a million and one things for him to stress about, but he told me his main concern was that Gina found a dress she loved. While she spent a couple of days wandering Chelsea looking for the perfect dress, Lee worried. Not only about whether she found one in time, but also about how much a dress from Chelsea would cost. But not only did she find one, she looked stunning in it. They were also able to get her mum to one of the fittings, which as I'm sure you are aware, was the whole point of the hurried wedding.

Lee was back in work Monday, and pretty much worked around the clock until leaving early on Thursday at 3.30... He decided he had to work that week when he got the bill for the dress. I took Friday off work to help out where I could, and, along with one of the best men, and Lee's dad and brother, we worked from 8am to 9pm on that Friday. We also had the pleasure of being joined by the bridesmaids to lay the tables in the marquee. We left the farm, and met a load of the boys in the local pub for a "quiet few"... I got to bed at 1.30am, and found out the next day that Lee's brother, and one of the Ushers, had been sick in the night. Job well done.

I awoke on the day of the Wedding to beautiful sunshine... We couldn't have asked for better weather. After a few calming pints in the pub we made it to the church. Gina's mum was brought in minutes before the ceremony started, and while Adele sang Make You Feel My Love. Gina entered. She looked beautiful. There was not a dry eye in the house. Lee later admitted that on seeing her, his legs went weak, and he had to take a few seconds to compose himself... I think that was the first time he'd let himself relax for 10 days, and the enormity of the occasion hit him. The ceremony was short, but sweet. It was a genuine pleasure to see the smiles on their faces, and love in their eyes as they said their vows.

After several (ahem) photos were taken, Mr and Mrs Lee Rees left the church grounds in a beautifully restored VW Camper, while the guests walked the 100 yards to the farm, and entered the marquee. The afternoon fare consisted of dainty sandwiches and cupcakes, accompanied by Tea, all served in mismatching crockery. It was a lovely idea, and really worked.

Gina's mum was brought in for the 40 odd minutes it took for the speeches, and then spent the rest of the evening in the house... Her husband was making regular trips back and forth, and I'm sure he didn't let her miss out on anything that happened. The speeches were each touching, heart warming, and hilarious in the right measure, and I am proud to say I only cried 3 times. The Toast Master kept the afternoon moving on, and using the Art of Rubbish Jokes, kept the mood light. Lee spoke beautifully from the heart, and only cracked twice: Once when trying to express his love for his new bride, and once when thanking his mum. The 2 best men both had me laughing aloud (LOLing to you Internet geeks), and one even name checked me.

But the star of the show was the Father of the Bride. He had told Lee on the day that he proposed that he would write a speech, but that he would not be able to deliver it. This honour was given to the Toast Master, Tim. Tim had expressed concerns just before that it was too emotional for him to get through, but he managed admirably. The speech was beautifully written. He was the only one to really mention his wifes illness, but managed to have us all laughing with his next sentence. He spoke very highly of Lee, detailing his great qualities as a man, and thanking him for the gift he had given the family on that day. It was a brilliant speech, and brought a lump to my throat, and tears to my eyes, while also making me laugh like a fool.

I managed to get through the first dance without forgetting any words, or breaking down crying, which I will take as a great result. I cannot describe the honour I felt at being asked to perform for Lee and Gina, and gave them both a massive hug afterwards.

The evening turned into a cracking party. There was an enormous Hog Roast which me and the boys tried to tackle on our own. Lee's brother Carl and I played another set later in the evening which had everyone dancing, and many pints and glasses of wine were sunk. There was even a massive pile on in the middle of the dancefloor, and the image of Lee, the Groom, doing Teddy-Bear rolls on the dancefloor still makes me laugh now.



But the highlight of my night was when I looked over at the dancefloor and saw the Father of the Bride, waistcoat undone, tie round his head, throwing out some killer shapes. The fact that, even during these tough times, he could let loose for 20 minutes and enjoy dancing with his daughter on her wedding day, really cheered me up and made my night.

It was a cracking day and night, perfect in fact. I asked Lee what he would have changed if he'd had a year instead of 10 days to plan it, and his reply was "not one thing". He married his soul mate in the company of their dearest friends and family, and in so doing, made 2 womens' greatest dream come true.

It was one of the greatest piss ups I have ever had the honour of being a part of, and I didn't even start drinking until 11pm. I love you mate.

The Littlest Hero

In order to explain the excitement, pride and honour I felt at a certain phone call last Tuesday evening, I must first offer up a little background information. This is going to be difficult to do as I don't want to reveal any names because, while not quite a secret, this whole thing is being kept quite close to the chest.

So, before I get underway, I must ask that if you know me in the 'real world' and can guess who this is about, please don't go shouting about it to all and sundry.

Back in January, my best friend went missing for a few months as his girlfriend's mum was diagnosed with cancer (they are 22/23 years old). The family run a local farm, and as she and her parents were spending lots of time in and out of hospital, she had to drop out of Uni to help at home, and my mate was helping out any way he could. He was working long hours in his job (a job where his wage is based heavily on commission), and then heading to the farm to help out in the evening. He was helping in the mornings before work. He was driving people to the private hospital in London, which is about a 4/5 hour trek. He was exhausting himself trying to do what he could to make things slightly easier for his girlfriend and her family, and he was doing it to the detriment of his social life, and quite often his job... and most importantly, he was doing it without complaint.

Fortunately, after a lot of chemo, her mum started to get better, and against all odds she went into remission. Things started to get back to normal, he threw himself back into work, and more importantly, he started coming out on the beer with us again... we'd missed him.

In June, he and a few others walked Kilimanjaro for several local charities, one being a charity that cares for terminally ill patients in Pembrokeshire. They raised an astonishing amount of money - a whopping £38k, and we were all immensely proud of him.

Come September his girlfriend was due to start the first year of her Uni course again as she had to drop out the previous year. The week before she was to move up, her mum unfortunately became ill again. She cancelled all plans of going back to Uni, and my mate was prepared to help out in any way he could once again. He went back to spending all of his time in work, on the farm, or travelling up and down the M4... He was doing this at great expense to himself as the hotel and petrol bills were adding up, and the time he was taking off work was money he couldn't afford not to earn. Once again, I'd hear the odd "I'm so sorry I can't make it, I'm too tired" or "I've got to help out down the farm, sorry", but he didn't complain or moan once. He was actually more apologetic to us that he couldn't make certain events - what a dick.

In a saddening turn of events, the cancer was pronounced terminal a couple of weeks ago, and while I don't know the exact expected length of time that was given, it wasn't long. They were just trying to get her well enough to bring her home, where the charity that my mate raised nearly £8k for just a few months before, could look after her.

That brings us up to last Tuesday evening. I had just got back from rugby and was about to shower when my phone rang. My mate was giving me an update as he had been stuck in a hotel just outside London for nearly week.

"It's horrible mate... Everyone is in tears the whole time. Her mum and dad are devastated that she won't get to see her daughter married... So I've been thinking for a while, I've spoken to her dad and her sister, and I proposed this morning."

I was chuffed to pieces and told him so...

"And what's more, we're doing it a week Friday".

This got more of a "are you fucking kidding me?" response... but he was serious. They were planning a wedding for 10 days time. I had to ask that he made sure he was doing something he wanted to, and not something he felt he needed to, and his response of "To be honest, I always knew I'd marry her, I'm just doing it a few years earlier than I'd imagined" got me pretty choked up.

The tears then started flowing properly when he said that they both wanted me to play a set at the wedding, and more importantly, play for their first dance. I couldn't have been more honoured and accepted instantly. I was buzzing for the whole evening.

My other best mate, he who will be one of the Best Men, and who I spent the weekend with, was telling me on Saturday how he had received a phone call the night before which hadn't been so happy. Our friend was stressing over the amount of work he had to do to organise the wedding, he was dealing with the inevitable emotion involved in the whole situation, and he had contracted food poisoning. He wasn't in the best of places and there were a lot of tears flowing.

Thankfully, when I saw him last night, he was absolutely bouncing. They had found a dress, the marquee was up, the rings were bought, the church was booked, the guests all told, the DJ booked and the food and transport sorted. There were hundreds of little things left to do obviously, but the major problems were under control and he was the most excited I had ever seen him. Once again, it was obvious he was under a lot of pressure, but he didn't once moan, or even bat an eyelid when he admitted he was PAYING FOR ALOT OF THE THING HIMSELF. He did say the cost was being shared equally between himself, the Bride's parents, and his own parents, but he is forking out A LOT OF MONEY over the next couple of weeks, and doing it with the biggest smile on his face that I have ever seen. Did I mention he was only TWENTY BLOODY THREE?

So, Saturday will be a pretty emotional day. If worst comes to worst and she passes away before Saturday, they will obviously postpone for a year or so... but as it stands, Saturday will be filled with laughter, love, tears, poorly played guitar, several short jokes aimed at the Groom himself, and I'm sure a Mother In Law that has had one of her dreams come true.

So, this is for you, you short-arsed little prick. I couldn't be more proud of you than I am right now... You are pulling off the impossible with apparent ease, making several peoples dreams come true, and bringing some pretty hard-bastard blokes to tears. You are a hero and I bloody love you. I could not be happier for you both and I am sure you will enjoy a long and happy marriage.

And the best news yet? He's only gone and organised a free bar all day and night! WHAT A FUCKING LEGEND!

Todays Playlist

I have recently added quite a few new albums to my iPod. Firstly, just to make things clear, when I say 'new' I mean that they have never been on my iPod before, not that I am at the cutting edge of new music. Secondly, I don't think I have ever used the phrase 'cutting edge' when describing anything other than technology or knives, and if I am honest, I don't really like it in this context.... But, and this is a shame, my backspace button isn't working, so I will leave it there. That is also the reason that I am currently typing at 7 words per minute... I want to make sure.

OK, so these albums I have added are a mixture of albums I have recently bought, and ones that I stopped listening to before I got my iPod, so they have been gathering dust on my shelf for a few years.

And of the albums I have recently bought, some are old because I just didn't get round to buying them, some are old because they have only just been recommended to me, and some are old because I was waiting for them to drop in price because I am a stingy bastard.

What I am basically trying to get at here is that none of these albums could actually be classed as 'new', despite the fact that 'new' is the word I chose to describe them with in the first sentence. This, once again, comes down to my backspace button not working.

Through all of this rambling I have actually lost the will to live... I bore myself sometimes more than I think I have ever bored another actual human person. I am tempted to not actually finish this blog... Tempted to, after all of this bullshit preamble, never actually tell you lot what albums I have put on the old iPod.

And yes, for those that are wondering, it is an iPod touch.

But that would be altogether too easy... To hit 'publish post' now, or even better 'delete' would play into your hands, and I am far too much of a stubborn and annoying prick to do that.

Before I list the albums, please let me beg that you do not judge me... I have never once claimed to have a good taste in music.

• Angus & Julia Stone - Down The Way
• Avril Lavigne - Let Go
• Band Of Horses - Infinite Arms
• Biffy Clyro - Only Revolutions
• Bloc Party - Silent Alarm
• Bombay Bycicle Club - Flaws
• Christina Aguilera - Stripped
• Eminem - Encore
• Frightened Rabbit - The Midnight Organ Fight Live
• Mumford & Sons - Sign No More
• The Script - The Script
• Travis - 12 Memories
• Vampire Weekend - Contra

So there they are. I nearly started the list with a Dermot O'Leary style "And in no particular order......." but I realised they are blatantly in alphabetical order, starting at A, and working in an oderly fashion all the way through the alphabet down to V, where the list ends.

I would also like to note that I blatantly only did this post because I haven't updated the blog in 5 weeks. As I said earlier, I nearly gave up half way through, but I am bored in work, and the desire to avoid any form of productive activity was my main motivator.

So there it is... Some good albums, some shit albums, some medium albums, and one massive lie about my backspace button not working.

10 Famous Women What I Would Do!

After a conversation with CuntyChopalops I have decided to compose my Top 10 list of celeb women I fancy... This isn't a run down from 10 to 1 as I can't decide what order they are in, so I have a Top 4 and The Rest. Cunty's selection of Men & Women can be found here.

"The Rest"

Ashley Greene - The only good thing to come out of Twilight.

Kristen Bell - She is tiny, but there is something about her.

Jessica Biel - So many prettier shots than this, but this scene in Chuck and Larry is brilliant.

Pixie Lott - Many people don't like her, and reckon she is "filthy looking"... But I think the smile is amazing. I also heard a story involving her and herpes.

Kate Beckinsale - Slightly older than me but stunning.

Elizabeth Banks - Great smile again. Not sure why, but I really like this one.

Top 4 - In No Particular Order

Eva Mendes - HOT in everything she does, and also really funny in The Other Guys. Particularly filthy in We Own The Night.

Cheryl Cole - Everyone loves this woman. If it wasn't for the shit tatt on her leg she might be number 1.

Rachel McAdams - Again, I don't really know why I fancy this woman but I want to be able to touch her face.

Rachel Bilson - This girl is just amazing! Please, can I please have her for Christmas?

And that is my list. Let's be honest, the only reason I'm not with any of these women is just that I haven't met any of them yet.

Honourable mentions must go to Sophia Bush (husky voice), Holly Willoughby (boobs), and of course YOUR MUM!

Fnar.

The Expendables - Review

When I first started this blog I had no intention of ever doing a film review, unless I was completely taking the piss. The plan was to leave the reviews to people like Gray and AT as they actually know what they are talking about. But yesterday I watched The Expendables and felt I needed to write a few words down.

So, to set the scene, I watched this very hungover. I had been so smashed the night before I fell asleep while sitting upright on a piano stool in a pub. My regular film buddy (life partner) Lee joined me and provided the Chili Heatwave Doritos for us to share.

The film was a disaster. It took all of the best action stars of my childhood, minus Jean-Claude Van Damme, chucked in a couple of great WWE/MMA stars, and gave them a ridiculous script. There were times during the film when we looked at each other, laughed, and said "I can't believe they actuall said/did that". I cringed when Jason Statham and Sly punched the air at the same time with a massive "YEAH!" after destroying a pier. I marvelled at the worlds quickest ever tattoo. And I laughed out loud at Sly hanging on to the open door of the plane.

The only thing worse than the script was the acting. When Jason Statham and Stone Cold Steve Austin give the best performances in a film you know there is something wrong. Sly can hardly move his face anymore, and the technology used on that Arnie robot that makes a brief appearance was impressive.

The were, however, a lot of very good fight scenes, pathetically good one liners, and massive explosions. Stone Cold's massive rugby tackle on Sly made me wince in a good way, and Dolph Lundgren was enough of a cunt for me to love him. Someone should let Sly know though, that his running days are over. Whenever he had to sprint he looked like he was continuously on the brink of falling over. It made me laugh every time.

So we have a shit script, shit acting and a lead actor who can't move his face or run.

I absolutely loved it. I had so much fun watching this film and was perfect viewing with my hangover.

9 stars out of 10.

This film would have had 10/10 if Charisma Carpenter had got her tits out. Not tits or sex at all. Shocking.

Moon - Blu Ray Review

Last night I watched Moon on BluRay with my mate Lee.


What an enjoyable experience... Lee brought over a bag of Fruit Gums, and a bag of Fruit Pastilles... There is a fruit theme developing here, and this isn't helped by the fact I made us each a glass of orange squash.

We settled into my leather corner sofa in a relaxed and friendly manner... Not too far away from each other to suggest any sort of repressed sexual tension, and not too close that would make homophobic onlookers uncomfortable. The perfect distance where we could discuss the events of the film, and I could still reach over and tickle behind his ear if I wanted.

Did I want to? Well that is a blog for another time.... (no it isn't... I am being silly again).

We only had to pause the film once as Lee needed to pop for a wee wee. This took longer than I was hoping because Lee has a sore ankle and had to limp to the toilet. It probably added around 50 seconds to the overall weeing time.

So, now the scene is set, on to the film....

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??

This film was stunning in terms of the visual effects and the set pieces, and Sam Rockwell's performance was first class (not in a stamp sense). I really enjoyed his *SPOILER ALERT* performance with himself... The join in the 2 separate performances were hardly visible and I could settle in and enjoy it.

But the plot itself? Weird as fuck! We predicted everything that was going to happen about 10 minutes before it happened (yes, we are those people), and the ending left a kind of "and then.....?" taste in the mouth.

But overall I enjoyed it... It was just a bit weird. If I was to rate if on a scale of Sparrow to Silver Back Gorilla it would be around the "Large Pony" mark...

Things That Scare Me

Bonjour… That is French for waddup?

There are many things in life that scare me, and today I will list a few, but go into too much detail about one in particular, and no doubt look like a fool.

First on the list of my scares, are heights. I am a proper pussy when it comes to heights… I avoid most roller-coasters, cliff edges, sky tower viewing platforms, and ladders. The strange thing is, I loved it on top of the Empire State Building. This is probably because of the chest high wall with railings on top, making it impossible to accidentally slip over the edge. I stood there for ages looking at the incredible sights. I’m also OK with flying, and ski lifts… but ask me to climb a ladder into my parents loft and I will say “no way, Jose” (even if your name isn’t Jose… I’m nuts like that).

I will now drop a truth bomb on myself, and admit to being scared of ending up alone. I have had a few serious relationships, one even lasted nearly 4 years, but I am yet again single at 26, and once again it isn’t by my choosing. I know this seems young to most people, and everyone says “you’ve got plenty of time yet”, but I judge myself by my family. My brother was with the same person from about 21, and got married at 28. My parents were married in their early twenties, and I’m still single. I look at my brother now, just turned 30 with a loving wife, nice house, and 2 beautiful boys, and I don’t want that RIGHT now, but it reminds me just how far away from having it I am. This thought does keep me awake at night sometimes.

But all joking aside, the thing that scares me most is this:



Dancing children… in particular, Hip Hip dancing children. It just freaks me out. Kids should not be able to do stuff like that. I can’t do stuff like that and I’ve got some killer moves and Olympic standard flexibility. That girl who was in that Missy Elliott video freaked me out for years. I can just imagine getting accosted in my local Morrisons by a group of “youths” and them challenging me to a dance off. I will throw out my best Sprinkler and transition smoothly into the Robot and what? Will they be impressed? Will I intimidate them? No! They will be walking around on one hand, scratching their heads with their own feet, and just doing general flips and shit. I will be humiliated, and will have to hand over my mobile phone.

I have to stop writing now… I’m starting to hyperventilate.

fUGGly

I have this unnatural hatred for one specific style of footwear... Uggs.

Seriously now, it baffles me why girls think they look good, and why nearly every woman on the planet owns a pair. The only women that don't own a pair are those unfortunate enough to be amputees... But then they get to go halves on a pair with their amputee friend they met at the Amputee Club (yes, this post has been extensively researched).

In my lifetime, I have seen probably 4 people that looked good in a pair of Uggs. They were all wearing skin tight leggings and had incredible arses and I never actually looked at their feet. This may have contributed to me not hating the fact they were wearing Uggs.

At best, when worn with baggy jeans, the shapeless toe poking out from under the hem of the trousers looks like the wearer has strapped a Cornish pasty to each foot. At worse, when paired with leggings or skinny jeans, their legs look like a golf club... a 5 wood if we are being precise, and why wouldn't we be?

These crazy women seem to think that Uggs are accetable summer wear, despite being made of lambs wool. You see them walking around wearing nice attractive summer clothes with these filthy, smelly articles of puke-inducing fashion horrors on their feet... and yes, I am capable of commenting on fashion, I've been in an A&F shop once.

Then there is the price. Women will spend over £100 for a pair of chav slippers that make them look like a twat. The mind boggles.

But worse than all of this... The final straw that broke this camels back (and I mean patience), is when you see a nobber like this.

No, men. Just no!

The Difficult Second Blog

A couple of weeks ago I thought to myself "Dave, you don't have a blog... Maybe you should have a blog", so I started a blog. For some reason I opened up Tumblr and got posting.

I was happy with how easy it was to get looking professional within minutes of signing up, but then, after a few posts, I wanted to start customising it. This seemed to be quite difficult and/or limited. I had a look around at some other blogs I enjoy reading, namely Diary of a Ledger and EatMyHalo, and realised that Blogspot might be the place to be.

So I opened this place. But now I have the dilemma of having a few "followers" over on Tumblr, and a few decent posts too. Do I just stick it out over there, or do I move some of the better posts to this site?

I am all confused.

I am also hungry, and that never helps.

Inception - The Big Review

The other night I went to watch Inception with a few friends... I had a mixed grill at Wetherspoons before which was very filling.

Anyway, I know you are all waiting for the big review... so here it is.





I enjoyed it. Well done them.

Country Legends

So over the past 2 nights I’ve watched 2 documentaries about Country/Rock legends: Johnny Cash and Merle Haggard.






Fascinating men. Fascinating lives.

They are both hugely talented and their lyrics ring in your soul.

I finished the documentaries however, with the certain knowledge I will never be as talented or successful.

Pricks.

Your King speaks

As I sit here on my throne, I imagine I am a King. The King. Your King.

I imagine I am the Ruler of the Interweb, the Master of the Blogesphere.

I like to think that many will come to me with their questions and disputes. I will be the new Yahoo Answers. I will reign with a heavy hand, passing out judgements, swift and fair. My whims, throwaway comments, will become Internet protocol and by-laws. Any who defy me will be defamed and have their routers given to one of my less privaleged supporters.

I dream of this, and in my head I am loved and respected by many. My life has a purpose. I am not existing merely to exist. People rely on me and listen to what I say. It is a busy life, but also a good life.

But then I finish. I wipe my bum. I pull up my trousers and return to shooting teenage boys in the face on a virtual war game.

But not without washing my hands first. I always wash my hands.

Blog? Shmlog!

I have never had a blog before, and although I had often read blogs during my hourly 48 minute break in work, I could never see myself having one. But as I sit here now, minutes after creating my very own blog, going through my brain searching for an exciting or interesting subject to write about, I realise I still don’t have a blog… Just a space on the interweb that I can sign into, and then stare blankly at, for half an hour.

Welcome to the 21st Century Dave. You’re shit at this.