Raindrops keep fallin...

It's raining in California. Rain. That familiar old friend I haven't seen for more than a month. When the first drop hit me, outside Sam Ash music store on Beach Bvd (A place with floor to ceiling guitars a la Waynes World) I thought a bird had shat on my head. I looked up in the Orange County sky to no avail (No intelligent life lives in this area of the country) then just stared at the droplets streaming through the smog like a gormless idiot for a while before remembering that the stuff is actually wet and that I was about an hour from my house.

I'm a simple guy really as you all know. A good day to me is by definition a day where I laugh out loud and a bad day is one where nothing even raises a smile. Today was threatening to fall into the bad day category but for the my imagination, when my Uncle Can came along and threatened to set me up with one of his friends daughters because "she's about your age and has finished her studies already - maybe you can get married and move here" Well it made me laugh anyway.

Being this bored I've decided to start planning my future. It's been a little daunting looking around at what everyone else is doing. I mean Lee mate, you've got a bloody secretary! Suzie's mentioned the word pension, which to me says (to quote Belle and Sebastian) "My wandering days are over", and even Skiv has been getting himself into trouble. Bags is happily in a dead end job, Chuv is destined to a life of international recognition and fun, hell even my cousin Pete, the hormonally-rampant teenager is gonna have more fun than me next year unless I pull my finger out - he's going around the world!

But it's my life, what everyone else does is their business and good luck to all my friends who I always hope to do well. The happier they are the happier I am and long may this cycle continue. My life is mine alone to control so I've decided to forget what everyone else is doing and to plan my future based on topping no-one elses achievements but my own. And topping this year is gonna be a mission!

In retrospect I have achieved so much this year and in truth I had only half a year to make an impact and actually achieve anything I wanted to achieve. The first half I was in Uni and it was more an obligation to get a degree. I wouldn't have been there if I had my way but once I got the degree I could do what I really wanted to and had to make up for 3 years lost time.

But when I finally got the chance, I got out as fast as possible straight to Glastonbury, which was made extra special by the fact that the physics department DIDN'T make me go back for a retake, then I spent most of the next three months making costumes for the Notting Hill Carnival with the Yaa Asantewaa centre which was led to the best three days of the year, and possibly the best three days of my life so far. It was the culmination of a years work for most of the group, 3 months work for me and the fulfillment of a lifes ambition. I just didn't bother to sleep for 3 days pumped up on adrenaline. We won 2nd place in the pre-carnival gala, 4th on the road and I was in all the local papers in the build up.

Scattered in all that, I made it onto the Raleigh London Commitee and and worked with someone famous without even knowing it and got into the Raleigh Intro weekends as well as all the other stuff. There wasn't a day in the second half of the year when I didn't have fire in my belly.

Then I topped it off by going to America the rest of the year. Not bad. And to think Lee was saying that life after uni is not exactly a bed of roses!

So what the hell am I gonna do to top that next year?!?!

With a whole year at my disposal I guess there's twice as many adventures to be had, twice as much mischief and double the amount of people to offend. I've been looking at making New Years Resolutions as well, seeing as I'm not back until then, but doing that would involve having to make an effort to change myself and I quite like myself thank you very much. So I've instead made 10 predictions which are open to interpretation and fallible. And require no effort at all on my part which is all good with me.

Prediction 1 - I'm gonna be on TV by the end of the year. (Yes I made that prediction this year - I'm still working on it)

Prediction 2 - I'm gonna go into another year of being single. I know this prediction changes every day, but then as I said these predictions are pure bollocks anyway.

Prediction 3 - I'm gonna jump off a pier somewhere with a pair of ridiculous wings strapped to my back

Prediction 4 - I will smoke weed with some long haired people on top of a mountain in a third world country

Prediction 5 - I'll jump off a mountain with a not-so ridiculous pair of wings on my back

Prediction 6 - I will learn kung fu

Prediction 7 - The single most bizarre thing of my whole life will happen to me of which I will emerge just about in one piece although I might have to tax my travel insurance for it. It will be the story that will top even the communist training camp story and the gorilla story. It will be amazing and the story to end all pub stories.

Prediction 8 - I'll actually turn up on time to meet one of my mates with no reschedule or cancellation. That includes going round to yours Jay, something that I've been meaning to do but it keeps getting bumped back I swear! (Of course as you all know this one is the least likely of all the predictions to come true so I wouldn't hold my breath)

Prediction 9 - I'll find something to do a masters in that I can actually see myself doing for any length of time. My attention span is just too short to commit to anything right now.

Prediction 10 - Vietnam

I think they are all likely to happen. Watch this space.

Gun Frenzy

It's always a sad state of affairs when you've spent X-pounds* on a holiday to California only to find that the most exciting thing to happen on some days is winning at Solitaire. But then this is Orange County and that could easily happen but not to me - hell no - with a fresh pair of legs and the usual skewed sense of humour I set off on a bit of a walk around the seemingly endless roads that make up this armpit of a county to hunt for danger while trying not to get run over by the frankly abysmal drivers that seem to be the bulk of the american drivers.

Hell, by about 7am this morning I had already seen enough driving "anomalies" to give Skiv a coronary. Skiv mate, next time you come here wear a nappy as you will shit yourself from shouting so much at these fuckwits. I mean, I know fuck all about driving as you know, and even I was starting to look a bit like you mate, yelling myself hoarse at the fools that brazenly pulled out in front of us in a complete traffic jam despite actually making no forward progress in the process. This country is so full of idiots, that the freak is actually called the village non-idiot.

My quest for adventure (in Orange County finding adventure as such is like finding gold in a urinal. It needs a little imagination) took me past some weird and wonderful places in Little Saigon that convinced me once again that I am part of a strange cultural experiment carried out by aliens in which an already confused vietnamese boy, unsure of his identity is placed within a race of people clinging to theirs.

The shop with the sign "Water and Eggs" which sold nothing but water and erm...eggs was a highlight of Little Saigon which felt very third world indeed, and I got a particular thrill from seeing signs everywhere which read "No Solicitors".

But the best part of the day came after visiting the paintball shop. I was crossing the road wondering to myself what a gun felt like and bang! it hit me. Across the street was a gun shop. It called itself The Armory or something really macho and I thought it would be a great idea to go in there and tell em how crap I thought their country was and perhaps to kick up a debate on the right to bear arms. So I marched in there and...chickened out.

I cannot quite describe what came over me. It wasn't fear as such as that requires suggests that the entity which you fear has power of you. You respect that which you fear. I couldn't care less if I died, but it hit me there and then that the main problem with the right to bear firearms is that any fool can carry one. And following on from my earlier point, most Americans I've met in Orange County are fools. And as much as I don't mind dying, I DO mind being killed by an idiot in much the same way as most people wouldn't object to being run over by a Porsche but have reservations about crossing the road in front of a Skoda.

I've walked into Martial Arts shops and dojos and felt genuinely humbled by the fact that the owners/senseis could very easily kick my arse from there to the moon. But there's always been the respect there. There was no respect here though. I would never dare insult a sensei but any fool can pull a trigger.

As I stood in front of this guy with a strong Texan accent and the IQ of a slime mould I decided that although I could have kicked up a storm for a laugh, I would just see how far I could get by humouring him without getting killed. I got as far as suggesting that a rifle had a barrel just long enough to shove up someones arse before I just got bored of being there and left.

Before heading back to the safety of my own home via a bonsai shop I decided I had to check if a rumour I heard was true. So I set off to Wal-mart, the owners of Asda (yes they even sell George clothes) to see if you really could pick up guns with your weekly shopping. I wouldn't believe it wil I saw it.

And i saw it.

There between the camping gear and the toy section (yes i'm serious) was the gun section in all its glory, with glass cabinets full of rifles and shotguns, the perfect addition to any shopping basket. Fucking maniacs.

*Now if I'm gonna be honest, in this case X is equal to nothing at the moment really...

If I'm not careful I'll turn into a Nazi

Yo Bitches

I've had the most inverted racial experience today that has shocked me to my very core. I think I might be a fledgeling nazi.

I've just gotten back from Vegas to Little Saigon, the difference between the two places is similar to returning to actual Saigon from America. So the first thing we done was go straight to get Pho (Suzie you would LOVE this place! The pho here is wicked) and while there I saw this group of white americans. There was probably about 10 of em. I had to do a double take I swear - it was like I'd never seen white people before and I ended up staring at them like they were some sort of circus act. I thought they looked really bizarre (you all know I think that yellow is superior anyway) and I was tempted to shout "Go home you pink scum!" but was held back by the fact that I was with my family, and my nan doesn't run as fast as me.

Vegas is a funny old place. Of course it was as good as I had dreamed, with Rollercoasters on top of skyscrapers filled with gamblers, drunkards and broken dreams as expected. As well as the added bonus of legal prostitution it also had one trump card that, even in my wildest dreams I could not have imagined...they had a trained chicken that plays punters at noughts and crosses.

Now over here they call it tic-tac-toe but, as Steven Jarvis said, that would involve one player having T and the other player having erm... T so I'll keep callin it noughts and crosses if that's ok with you. If you ever beat the chicken at New York New York you win $10,000. Of course all draws go to the chicken. They have only ever given away $20,000. And to think that Jay spent much of the first year designing a noughts and crosses strategy when he coulda just got Ernie the free range fowl to hit some buttons. It doesn't even take batteries if you'll excuse the pun.

Tarik you've got to get your butt together and get out here mate. I stayed at the MGM Grand in a room with 2 double beds which only costs $70 a night. Bargain. And whores only cost $75. To anyone else this is not some sort of gay proposition I promise! no really it isn't. Ah fuck you then believe what you want.

The "I love your accent" count has risen to something like 8 and I've found out from the front page of the papers that the official stats (as opposed to the Skiv-style made up complete bullshit stats from last time) out this week show that 64.5% of Americans are obese or overweight. Now apparently obese is being 30lbs over your recommended and overweight is 10lbs over. Answers on a postcard for the punchline to this gag...(My house will know what I'm talkin about, hell you probably all do, but with Jay coming to the states in a couple of weeks I'd better lay off his girlfriend)

Matt, I saw the wonderfully named Zzyzx Road on the way back to California from Vegas on Interstate 15 and when I pointed it out and told the story of your photo and subsequent football (soccer) team ventures to my uncle he told me a story of his own. Some years back he was driving along with some cousins on Interstate 15 to vegas and right there on the junction with Zzyzx Road his cousin saw a ghost! It seems no-one leaves Zzyzx without a story! By the way can you remind me where Forrest stops running please as I'm really keen to get a picture of it myself actually.

The idea then for the following months is simple enough really. I'm meeting a complete stranger that I met on the internet and we are going to Mexico and the national parks. While in Mexico, ShiteBags, I promise to check out the erm...girls of your preference (purely for research for your benefit you understand you chuckler) and report back you filthy munter. If I do have to send you a catalogue or something I'll send it in the post with no return address as opposed to by e-mail as I really could do without being arrested this year if you catch my drift.

After that I'm going to Canada then Boston then, after Christmas I'll come back for drinkypoos with all my bestest bitches and hos in the United Kingdom. Book me early, cos by then I'll be famous.

Take care of yourselves and don't forget to always wear a condom. Which may make it difficult to piss.

Love from California

Andy