You Word Twisting Red-Coat!

Hail all those of our race and not.

I have been mortally offended. Have you ever been British? Have You ever had an American friend? Has she ever told you that you were a 'word twisting Red-Coat'? Well I have. But less of that. Is Red-Coat really a derogatory term for the British? I think it could be, but then the term Red-Coat sort of makes me proud. It reminds me of a time not so long ago. A better time. A prosperous time. A British time. And as a friend of mine would say (Hi Clareg) - it all came to ruin with America, we let it slip out of our grasp and so the world fell. People now prefer coffee to tea, they speak ungodly english, and they have no manners. But then, that's me talking about the British Empire as if I were there - Pish posh, toff toff, pip pip, tallyho, and chucks away!

I am Welsh. I am British. Therefore, if you are not any of these denominations then I own you! And you know it (I kid, I kid - Hi Duckface, Sunshine, and Tag).

We've crushed the Rebel Alliance, by the way. Smeccles and I finally trounced the pathetic rebels. I destroyed their tanks while Smeccles destroyed their leaders. And then we captured their Princess, killed their Jedi, and did all around bad things to them. Wookies hurt. Aren't you glad I parted with that vital piece of knowledge.

Today I met Jimbo's brother (one of them). He was a quieter version of Jimbo - though still as quirky. Wodge, Pill, and I were greeted with a big hug from him. It was all really bizarre, but then it doesn't matter. Jimbo's family is our family.

Moving swiftly on...

Yesterday I posted, what I would describe as, crap. So I posted another one. It's much better, you should read that one instead. And in the latter one I promised some writing. To be honest, I haven't done as much writing today as I thought I would have done. I woke up at 10, fulfilled my morning routine, watched this week's Glee (which was Gaga-fied), and then called my dear Mum. Whilst doing this Wodge and Pill returned to the flat, and then it was lunchtime and Jimbo and his brother arrived to meet everyone. So a relatively busy day which had me spend the longest amount of time in my Pj's, I've ever spent conscious (yes I still wear Pajamas, and yes I call them Pj's). But writing I promised you and writing you shall have.

The Meadow-Field Dance

The Meadow-Field Dance

Is quite a place to be.

If you catch it by chance,

I'm sure you'd quite agree.

The bees and birds stare

As the Daisys stand tall,

And dance in the Meadow's Square;

It is the Meadow-Field Ball.

The Buttercups join the fray.

Music bounces all around.

Behold the dancing bouquet

When the Meadow-Field Queen is crowned.

Dandylions skip, jump, and shout;

Taking Daisys and Buttercups alike.

They all dance, all about.

Until the Thunder's strike...

Rain brings the Ball to a halt;

The drops have shattered the romance.

Wait until we sing and exalt,

It was the Meadow-Field Dance.

What did you think? Did you enjoy? You know you did, and you should tell me you did. Comment, and tell me how much you loved it. Compare me to Wordsworth, Chaucer, and Blake - all at the same time. You know I know you know you loved it.

Where next? I think that's it for another day. I would like to thank Wodge and Pill for feeding me this evening. Cod and Mash is a weird thing, but I ate and enjoyed nonetheless. Mmm...Fishy Mash.

But that's me, until next time bloggers...

Why won't the Rebel Alliance just Quit?!...Take 2.

My first post this evening, sucked.

So as I sit here listening to the 1812 Overture - I emplore you all not to read the previous, aforementioned piece of tripe - and turn your optical nerves towards this post.

Yes, the Rebel Alliance have not been quelled yet, and Smeccles and I haven't even attempted to quell them further since our crushing defeats upon a laggingly white space ship. We even had Darth Vader on our side, and still the good guys won. How is that possible?!

Anyway, I complained enough in the first post about the stupid Rebel Alliance.

Moving on, I'm mostly alone this evening. Out of an 8 manned flat, there are only two flatmates residing here this evening - Smeccles and I. Though that is to change tomorrow evening when Wodge and Pill return from their weekend home.

Where was I? I have no idea. I find writing with music on in the background to be quite a distraction. I don't know how some people do it (Hi HB Sauce). It's an alien technique to me.

As the night draws on, I realise how quiet this place can become. I've never really witnessed it without life before. The echoing halls haunting me with faces on doors. A flickering light, attracting unwanted night life. It's just creepy.

At this moment in time I am in deep conversation with both Chaplin (a non-American friend) and Duckface (an American friend - the name was not chosen by me). They are both of the female variety of the human face, they are both creative, and they both have dark hair. Even now, while Duckface was quoting a poem by Nietzsche (The Stubborn Pen - for those of you who wish to know), and I was telling her that she should feign ignorance and take the credit for the poem. No one will remember that guy. He was too...dull (in my opinion).

Which brings me to the point I wish to make. Writing, tomorrow I will do some writing - and I shall subject you to the amount of writing that will be written, depending on whether or not it does get written or not (it will). It will be of either poetic or science fiction context. And it will be good (I hope).

Which brings me to another point. A 3-Minute Play of mine is being performed in Trinity College Carmarthen on Wednesday at 8pm. Entry is £2-3 and all are welcome (It'll be in the Studio bit at the back). I know, sad right, plugging that, but I'm sure it'll be a night of great stage entertainment. You should come.

I've got to go now. Technically this is already tomorrow's blog, but that's not going to stop me - and you know it (Hi Tag). Other blogs need my immediate attention - for instance, Duckface just made one (not under duress in anyway), and I shall go away and read it now, before bed.

But that's me, until next time bloggers...

P.S.

Duckface's Blog: http://unwillingquill.blogspot.com/

Tag's Blog: http://thoughtsofatimetravellingteen.blogspot.com/

Bells' Blog: http://onemoretimewithfeeling-anelebach.blogspot.com/

Scurvy's Blog: http://ginagibbs.blogspot.com/

Why won't the Rebel Alliance just Quit?!

Stupid Rebels...

Okay, so I was going to start this blog with a strong friendship vibe, and perhaps name my friends and say how much I enjoy their company and inputs into my life. But no - I will not start there. Instead, today, I shall complain to you for the first paragraph about how bloody difficult the Rebel Alliance is on Normal Mode on 'Star Wars: Battlefront 2'. It has annoyed both me and my flatmate, Smeccles, so much, that we have now refused to work for the Empire. Saving our games, and moving on to our separate rooms until which time Smeccles will go out and Doctor Who will have come on. But seriously - our collective score for the last game was 300+ - how can computer assisted teams with scores of 1 or 2 beat us?! It just doesn't make any logical sense.

Anyway...friendship.

Friendship is a great thing. I am quite lucky to call several people my close friends. There are those friends who have perfect qualities which I admire very much. There are those who are just fun to hang out with. And there are those who I can trust with anything. Starting from the nearest to my vicinity...

Uni Friends:

These friends, most of whom I have lived with, are some of the newest and quirkiest people I have ever met. The personalities of said group do sometimes clash, however, when the disputes are over, and we've each lost a limb our friendship is stronger. These are the friends who are most likely to have seen me naked (Hi Tag), thanks to others who have decided to pull my trousers and underwear down while I'm having a conversation (Hi Pill).

Home Friends:

These are the people that I've grown up knowing and loving all my life. They are the ones who I usually trust above all the rest. They're the ones I look forward to seeing the most. They're the ones I've usually had a crush on at one point in my life (Hi Clareg). They're the ones I can go to the park with, sit around, eat something, play video games with, watch movies, enjoy myself with (not like I can't with any of my other friends, this should really be in a general friendship section), and of course, get mugged by CHAVs with, while having a pleasant evening BBQ in public. They're the ones I've been beaten up with, their the one's who I have fought side-by-side with.

Distant Friends:

Unfortunately, and it does happen, I do lose contact with some good friends (perhaps, sometimes for my own good). This makes me feel sad. However, when we see each other again, it's like nothing's changed. And perhaps that connection will correct itself once more. I hope that will be the case. And I hope to see many of my distant friends this summer.

Wherever you sit in that list, you should know that I love you very much, and I will miss you all when you're not around. But then that's the beauty of friendship, it's the going and coming back, and wanting to do both that makes friends. Not just the hanging out all the time, but the want to leave and to come back again - that's what makes friendship.

As I write this I think, what would most of my friends say: 'Aww - I love you too Big Tom', 'Homo!', and 'Alright...GAY.'

Christ, that got far too sickening to write - next!

Okay, I don't quite know how to follow that after-school special. Hmm, I am sat in my university halls allocated room ABN4: 9H and I think to myself - where the hell is everyone?!

The truth is, I know where everyone is. It's only Smeccles and I here. And will be only Smeccles and I until the evening hours of the morrow. I wonder what we'll get up to. Will we take on the Rebel Alliance again? Will we watch Doctor Who? Will we watch or do anything at all? All I know is...Smeccles is off out for dinner before Doctor Who - so that plans out the window.

Damn.

Ten minutes to kill. I'm currently listening to 'This is Home' by Switchfoot. You should check it out. It's nice, pleasant, (dare I say it) delightful.

Don't you find, that when you say you've only got ten minutes to go, you run out of things to say. The conversation goes dead, and you know you're the one to have slaughtered it with you observation. Why the hell do I seem to do that all the time?!

Two minutes gone. And suddenly a thing popped into my head, of a presentation Tag was going to do, but didn't in the end. Involving the words 'Batman' and 'Dinner'. It was funny, but it's his joke, and obviously much better in real life.

Next year, it would seem, all my lecturers are changing. The lovely man who is currently the head of my school here at Trinity is leaving - I say leaving. He's apparently not going to re-apply for his job - not that he should have to. Silly administration. Anyway, I'm annoyed, and I have to have that 'stupid woman' twice next year, semester one and two - there's no escape!

No doubt, next year (the THIRD/LAST one) will be bloody difficult.

But that's me, until next time bloggers...

P.S. Should I write a Western? I'm writing a Sci-fi at the moment, but I watched '3:10 to Yuma' with Tag last night, and it's got me thinking - Deadwood?