Blewog’s Firey Diary – 19/11/2010 (Washing Machines, MC’s and Dental Combat)

Those of you who are avid readers would have seen that for a short time I thought it was a good idea to change this series’ name from ‘Blewog’s Firey Diary’ to ‘Blewog’s Infernal Journal’ which was an awesome name because it kept with the firey theme and it rhymed with journal, but little did I know that it referenced hell. Faux pas methinks!

Recent goings on in the life of Rhodri Brady have been the writing of essays and the learning of lines, nothing new I hear you say. Well how about I bust you out of your overly complacent cage and tell you about the time me and not one, not two, but three other men went to buy a washing machine together. Not only that, but we came to a descision about which one to buy with in literal minutes! This was after five minutes of making jokes about buying an oven by accident and then actually thinking a tumble dryer was a washing machine.

On Sunday evening I preached! Sadly our planned preacher for the evening had to drop out, so I was rolled in at the last minute. I ended up preaching a very similar sermon to the one I did in Childs Hill in September, but I changed it slightly, eager to come at the passage afresh. I was really chuffed at how supportive so many in the congregation were, God was very good to me and it was a joy.

One evening this week I had my first profiad of ’emceeing’, I am not referring to the rapping kind (as in Jay Zed etc.) no, I mean as in the master of ceremonies, the compére guy. The CU put on an open-mic night and lots of people sung and I was basically given the freedom to shout whatever I wanted down the microphone in-between the actual talent. This was for a good few hours. It was an absolute joy, and I particularly enjoyed making music jokes, political jokes and science jokes—most of which I stole from t’internet. I was hesitant to crush the idea of me being the rapping kind of MC, because at the end of the show, me and my fellow friend performed a rap, a rap all about kicking the bar, which went to the tune of Kick, Push by Lupe Fiasco. We had rapping names, he was called Prfessor JJ, and I went by the name of Serious Filth! We went down an absolute storm and we now have a recording contract (not).

I am rather bruised because in my play, we have to rehearse a scene in which I get beaten up over and over and over and over agin. It’s fun at the time because it takes me back to the days of the old school yard, but when I wake up the next morning, I find bruises in the most unusual places.

I’m off to London tonight, I shall be watching a play there (surprise surprise)! I’m looking forward to having some time on the train to think, and read, and probably not listen to music because I dumbly lost my iPod, along with another billion other lovely valuables such as my Bible and house keys and TheBestSupermanShirtEver all inside my wife’s favourite ruck-sack. Twas her favourite container in which to carry her rucks. But we live and learn (or in my case live and lose, and lose, and lose, and find, and lose again).

I was eating bonbons in a lecture the other day and the chewy part of it suddenly became hard. I thought to myself, what an interesting chemical reaction these confectionarial makers have managed to create in my mouth! However, what happened was far less Willy Wonka-esque. I had managed to dislodge a gold inlay from my tooth, thus leaving a rather large chasm in the back row of my upper jaw. The day before yesterday (which is the day after the day before the day after two days ago) I went to the dentist. I shall spare you the paragraph in which I share with you the fact that I often find myself revelling in the fear that we all have to some extent—of the dentist. Anyway, this procedure was rather easy. I’d kept the inlay in my wallet for quite some time, it was quite the conversation killer. She—the dentist—grabbed it and shoved in there and it felt a bit weird but it was fine, I thought she’d finished, but of course she felt the need to cement it. So then she had to spend five minutes taking it out of my teeth again, the fear of dentists is never too bad until you consider that maybe, just maybe they’re going to make a mistake. You hear horror stories of dentists accidentally pulling whole jaws off, and this is was the genre of fear I was feeling this time. She was yanking, levering and wedging this little metal bit in my teeth, like I’d never seen. What I should have told her was that I would just pop a bonbon in my mouth and then I’d take it out for her! Eventually it dropped out and I almost swallowed it, and then, with spot of cement from her industrial sized mixer, in the style of a true brick-layer, I was kitted up and ready to beep my way through any airport security gate you threw at me. It does feel a bit weird though, because (this is really amazing, God is awesome) when you lose a tooth or a bit of a tooth, the set of teeth below compensate for this by pushing themselves up a bit further to make up for it, to help my chewing! But when she put it back in, all I could feel was this huge metal wad. By now my mouth is getting used to it, but I do have regular tap dance recitals, inside my head.

Blewog’s Firey Diary – 05/11/2010 (Love Letters, Boardgame Settlers and Cymru Cheesecake Trend-Setters)

This week we’ve had:

  • Early mornings (if waking up at 8 can be called early?)

The thing you begin to realise when you’re getting up at a semi-reasonable hour of the day is that you need to go to bed early. Now, I am still suffering from a state of mind I lived with in childhood, it’s called inevereverevereverwanttogotobed syndrome, the main symptom of this disease is a connection in one’s mind of sleeping at night with a ceasing of ‘fun’. I’m slowly recovering, but the knowledge of 24 hour Spar is always a demon.

  • Some exciting letter writing.

I found myself trying to scan some of the old files in my cerebrum for files on ‘how to write a letter’ I remembered that there were all these formatting rules and courtesy regulations, it took me back to my penpal days with a certain Tiger Tim of Thirsk.

  • Readings and spectatings of some good examples of post-dramatic theatre (Martin Crimp, Cupola Bobba).

No plot, no characters, no words, no conflict, no stage, no actor, no audience, no life, no earth, no God. Well, it’s not exactly that, but that description is getting close.

  • An evening of home made burgers and a session of cheese tasting followed by a game of ‘Settlers of Catan’.

We found ourselves in Morrisons, talking to the lady at the deli counter, sampling some of the country’s finest cheeses, in the end settling for some Australian cheddar which I didn’t even know existed and doesn’t sound particularly appetising, it was good though. I also enjoyed some onion chutney. Friends are good for recommendations like that aren’t they, they’re also good for German multiplayer boardgame related joy.

  • A blessed Welsh CU meeting thinking especially about The Creation or should I say Y Creu.

My Taid was our speaker this Thursday, and what a joy it was to have him there. A good number, and a clear message for us to chew on.

  • A baby birthday celebration, a victorious game of Articulate and a surprisingly engrossing viewing of first twenty minutes of Finding Nemo.

We had chocolate cake and cheesecake, and as we consumed, the topic of ‘why do Welsh people talk about cheesecake more than other nationalities talk about cheescake’? I’d never heard such claims. I have no opinion on the matter, do you?

So, as you can see, this week’s been a busy one and on top of all that, I feel that most of my time has been taken up with trying to learn lines, and then desperately trying with oh so much of my strength to make my sultana sized brain remember them during the rehearsals! I hope we’re making progress on the play. I really do hope so.

Listening to:

Virally Contracted:

Banksy fancy dress costume.