Young and camp.

Having returned from my week and a bit of camping (in various areas of the country) i have realised that I have not posted on the ol' blog in a while... though not, I suspect on quite the same level as others I might think of. (*cough* Laycock there is STILL only one post! *cough*) <- quite a lot to say in-between coughs as I'm sure you can imagine!

My holiday consisted of two parts - Devon and Greenbelt. One of which is a music festival and one isn't. I'm sure you can work out which is which.

I suppose I could start with Devon... or do a George Lucas and start in the middle and work from there.
In the spirit of this...

A LONG TIME AGO
IN A TOWN RELATIVELY BUT NOT QUITE THAT FAR AWAY REALLY... I SUPPOSE

ADAM LEGG

*que dramatic music that sounds suspiciously like the starwars theme*

(I cannot confirm or deny that this is actually the starwars theme due to copyright. However if you thought of the starwars theme while reading this feel free to sue yourselves. Just finish this blog first.)

EPISODE WHATEVER: THE PHANTOM SHOWERS

DURRR, DURRR, DEDEDE DURRR DURRR DEDEDE DURR DURRR DEDEDEDEEEEEE (you get the idea)

Adam Legg has arrived in Devon with the Black's (in the spirit of the douchebags who might interpret this as racism, it is not. My girlfriend is Emily BLACK... her father is Jonathan BLACK, HER MOTHER IS ANNE BLACK... you get the picture) all seems to be going well until they return from the beach.

Adam and Emily go to have a shower but are met with a curious case of facist showerdom.

(By now maybe the starwars music is getting a bit boring for the rest of you who aren't massive fans of the franchise. In which case I suggest "Build me up buttercup". You can accompany it with the idea of me and Emily with classic 80s style cheesy shocked faces if you feel the need. Maybe even some long-johns for me too?)

Can they save enough 20ps to keep clean or will they spin into itchy decay and grow mould in their armpits? ONLY TIME WILL TELL...

Moving away from the starwars nostalgia that I'm sure many of you were feeling during that little piece of variation on the usual blogging. Devon was rather good!

CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES, COME ON! (No prizes for guessing what spotify has just put on)

Back on track (and back to black!) The campsite showers! *Que DUN DUN DUHHHH* *Screaming heard in background* ARGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Anyway these FACIST SHOWERS (okay I've been listening to Billy Bragg a little too much)

Okay well, the showers in the campsite take money before they wash you; a sort of "pass my showerhead with silver" sort of thing. (Not a sort of thong which spellcheck decided to suggest!) You have 4 minutes once the shower decides that your 20p is indeed not fairy currency or a piece of chewing gum and accepts it. Included in this the shower gives you a 1 minute period of grace for you to strip off and mentally prepare yourself for the frenzy that will follow. You do your stretches, jog on the spot, weigh up your shower and attempt to position yourself so NO WATER WILL BE WASTED. The shower demons are unforgiving.

Suddenly you hear a beeping noise and you run in! Only to realise that the beeping noise is someone else's and all the meets you is the cold, bitter feeling of disappointment while the shower laughs in your face! As you walk out, there is another beeping and the shower turns on. The Demons laughing again as they torment you! You slap yourself with showergel and move until the pathetic drizzle your shower gives you. (I was half tempted to start shouting "It's spitting! It's spitting! Everybody in!")

To add to the initial stress of trying to get clean in under 4 minutes you are supposed to listen out for other beeps that indicate intervals of time that have passed. However, to torment you further, the demons of the shower have put all the showers close together, so your shower is accompanied by a series of beeps; none of which you know what it means and any could mean that you are left more soapy and disappointed than a slag at a foam party.

If you are unlucky enough to not heed the warnings of the beeps you might end up in that state. There is a solution though. You can go stick another 20p in the meter outside (cross my showerhead with silver). While this may satisfy the demons of the shower, it does not satisfy the massive queue of unhappy campers who glare at you if you so much as THINK about putting that 20p in. You little bastard.

I have bought myself a straw hat. Emily hates it. I love it.

While we were on the beach I was thinking how a wedding on the beach is something people view as romantic, cute etc. (Sex on the beach has just popped up on spotify. How wonderful.)

However the cynical voice in the back of my mind was wondering about the practicalities of it that might not make it so appealing...

For a start, getting sand on your suit will probably result in the loss of your deposit on it, probably the same with the dresses... secondly the wind blowing sand in your face isn't considered massively romantic either, as the priest having to spit several times over the bride to get the sand out his mouth wouldn't give you a massive score on four weddings.

I will blog about greenbelt tomorrow as I am conscious about how long this one is getting

Talk later,

Adam xx

Hello my name is Russel and I am a wilderness explorer...

Discovery and caravanning

Morning readers! Bit of an early one today as I can't sleep and the bloody limited time wifi we have here is effectively run out at any second!
Currently sat up in bed (well... A sofa actually, details details) I have been listening to an artist in particular over the past couple of days who I've really come to enjoy after hearing her songs for the first time last week. More on her to come later!

Suspense! It's good for you. Deal with it.

This week I've been in the welshland trying to make heads or tails of the weather which seems to be more varied than the theories behind the death of bees. Personally I think someone somewhere challenged them to a hide and seek contest, the earth will be flooded in 2012 and we'll have an onslaught of bees appearing from various hiding places wondering if the human race will ever bloody find them!

On the whole though the weathers been rather nice. In the bits inbetween being surrounded by old people and feeling sometimes more out of place than a small nun at a human sacrifice, I've actually had quite a good time! I was joined in sunday by Emily with whom I've spent the majority of my time with. Unfortunately for her, she's has to put up with me for another week as I'm going away with her family to devon on Saturday (at some ungodly hour) which I am rather looking forward to!

Exam results are playing on the mind of many a British teen currently as they are released to us plebs on Thursday. To me this seems an unfair experience to put me through as I've been at the bottom of the ocean, shivering about it for the past few months and now it's even worse as the universities get the results before we do! Someone somewhere knows whether I'm into uclan or not; hoping the former!! Writers block, writers block, writers block... Sorry I fell asleep just after the sentence and forgot where I am going with it! Ermmmmmm.... Arghhh can't think of it! Oh well I'm sure you'll get over it; counselling should ease the pain.

Anyway to ease your suspense I have (the amount of times I just spelled that last word wrong is depressing) been listening to Megan Oliver! Two of her songs; Terrified and Travelling soldier (lots of "t"s there!) are rapidly becoming two of my favourite song. Forgive my mistake and blame it on tiredness if I'm wrong but I believe her genre is sort of countryish. (not countryman as spellcheck wonderfully corrected it to with it's facist (or racist if your spellcheck) regime over the English language) Even if you are generally a massive fan of country (though let's face it; your Stetson, pipe and banjo gave that one away didn't it?) I would seriously urge you to lend her an ear (dunno what she'd do with it) and listen to one of her songs! You could say it was music to my ears! :P

This is the bit where it gets complicated... I'm going to attempt to put a link on this post to her myspace (I know! Myspace!) and you can (and will goddammit!) give her a listen! Bear with me... http://m.myspace.com/artistprofile.wap?bfd=webnext&friendId=564423595 (managed it! Get in there!

Anyway sleep is beckoning again! Ttfn bloggers!

Adam

Stop, collaborate and... Zzzzzzz

Don't blame it on...

I am a chronic procrastinator. Whenever I really have to do something, something else becomes so vitally important the world might just end if I don't do it.

My room is a perfect example of this...

On and off my room hasn't been completely tidy for about 2 years. Sure it's been cleaned, vacced, moved around and repainted... but never completely tidy. I'd blame this on the sunshine, moonlight and the boogie if I could but somehow I doubt anyone would believe me.

Here are my reasons why the song has a lot to do with tidying my room (or rather lack of it)

Sunshine

The sun is a bitch when you are tidying you room. It makes everything look so inviting outside. When the sun is properly shining in Manchester (a phrase most might consider an oxymoron) it makes the world through your window look like it should be skipping through a field singing "it's all too beautiful" while surrounded by a yellow haze.

Moonlight

When evening comes and the sun descends below the wonderful horizon that is the Broomwood council estate; things start to happen...

... Not fangs, extra hair or an overwhelming desire to urinate against a lamppost...

...People start to happen. Everyone comes out at night, they let their hair down and whip you in the eye on the dancefloor with it...

...or just sleep.

Exciting and attractive opportunities arise for the chronic procrastinator at night; parties, nights out, good film, takeaway etc. However, if your anything like me, you will find that sleep attacks you first.

Sleep comes out of nowhere, like a ninja with chloroform... ironically, after I had written this I woke up at 4am wondering what the hell just happened. Now finishing this at 15.29 the next day and reading through this wondering exactly what was going through my head at the time. Probably pink zambuka... The show must go on!

This leaves us with...

Boogie

Now I, like I'm sure most of you do, tidy my room to music. This in itself isn't necessarily a problem, until a particularly catchy song comes up and I start dancing. This, for me, is the time where I decide to try out some new moves I have literally just thought of just then. This distracts me from room tidying, often for a good 20 minutes while I have the song on repeat so I can perfect said dancemove...

... I really need to get out more.

Some of the more smart arsed ones of you may have noticed that I'm talking about "Blame it on the boogie" by Jackson 5 to illustrate the point to this blog. Others may notice that I missed out "the good times" - All the times are "the good times"



...Back to fish...

Have had plenty of comments about my fish but none on the nature of what their names might be so suggestions please :D

Adam xx

Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience.

My fishies bring all the readers to the blog!

Hello all!

I'd like to start this blog by saying an extra special hello to all my non-uk readers. Many of whom I have never met but I appreciate your following :D Especially in the US of A where I have picked up a couple of followers I believe. One checked in last week coming straight from the facebook page of a Rudy Hernandes so a shout out to them is in order too, for being the second strangest traffic source on my history.

Since my last blog I have become a tad obsessed after finding the statistic page on my blog and have been keeping an eye of the countries you are reading this from and what page you last viewed before viewing my blog, also known as a traffic source.

As I mentioned before the person visiting straight from Rudy Hernandes' page is only the second strangest. In my non-stalking capacity on my overly obsessive stat abuse I came across this traffic source that confused me further;

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montel_Williams

Somebody, whoever you are you win the prize for strangest traffic source, came to my blog straight from Montel William's wikipedia page. I entertained the thought that there might be a link hidden in the page though I highly doubt it.

Moving on from my stalkerish ways on my blog some of the more observant ones; probably the same as those that noticed that the title for my whole blog is blog spelled backwards (and wrongly!) May have noticed the fish at the top of the screen. For the sake of argument I'm keeping 5 of them and keeping them orange, however, what I need from you, my dearly loved readers, is names for them. Email me or post on my wall ( or even, heaven forbid, comment on this blogpost once in a while ;) ) potential names. My favourite ones will go in a poll that I'll put up on this website and we can vote for the ones we like the best. Top 5 wins! Easy!

By the way the fish aren't just there for decoration...

... okay that was a lie. BUT they will swim towards your mouse if you move it over the pool in the hopes you will press your mouse and give them food :D

Me, or any of my affiliates; (Myself and I), cannot accept any harm caused by the fish if they bite. It's your own stupid fault.

Adam xxx

Sex, drugs and veggie rolls.

The view from a blogger.

I'm going to be honest. This post is a thank you.

All that may have been in earshot in the past week will know that I have reached over 1000 views of this blog.
Practically speaking about 20 of these are probably me; looking at formatting with my OCD design mind and wondering if I could make any more anal improvements to somehow increase the attractiveness of the page.
After a while I had decided that I could spend forever trying to make everything look all prettiful and nice; art decor flowers on the ceiling perhaps? A new sofa? Maybe pink chimpanzees performing the Charleston or dazzling flashing lights to make sure epileptics have the time of their lives...
Though my interior design phase I realised that I didn't actually aim this blog at anyone in particular. It was just open, as it always has been, for anyone who takes a casual interest in what happens to me on my day to day activities; the rather bizarre events that happen or simply the weird things I attempt to do to make the boring journey up Brooklands road that little bit less soul destroying.
It was on my way home today that I had time to reflect on my blog and where it had begun to where it now is; with an average of 200 core people reading each one in recent posts!
I looked down and realised that I had been swinging my hands similar to the time I had tried to speed up my walk to school by taking a leaf out of Micheal Mcintyre's book and swinging my arms.
I have been a fan of this technique for a while. Even though it means you look a bit of twat you are king of the pavement. Overtaking pedestrians easily on your crusade to arrive home in a quicker time than before...
...Still, 1000 views.
I'd like to say thanks to everyone for supporting me so far, your kind words of encouragement to me have always been welcome. Even my critics, of whom I know there are some, I appreciate the time you take to read it anyway.

Therefore I'd like to take the opportunity to say a massive thank you to you all.

My blogs; past, present and future are always dedicated to you.

Adam xx

Friday, Friday, write another bloggy thing on Friday.

Just got in from Emily's house and am sat in my dining-room-turned-playroom with a Ribena and the TV on "90s Dance Resurrection". As I progress to be transfixed I become more and more fixed in the belief that some 90s dance tracks should, much like the outfits some of the artists are wearing, should never been seen in public again.

I am however quite enjoying some of it. And have perhaps found something that my life has been lacking of lately. I've been searching for some feel good dance music that I wouldn't mind playing out loud. The closest I have been to feel good music recently has been the subtle volume turn up of "In the Navy" which comes up on my phone.

...Not quite sure what the neighbours would think though...

Today, has been interesting to say the least really. The point of my day that I will remember was being persuaded into buying a pen for some prostate charity. When exiting the Clintons cards store where I had purchased this pen I was reminded to "keep checking them"... thanks for that :P

...Sweet like chocolate has just come on. Probably what a chocolate inducted nightmare would look like. Seriously this video is scarier than the exorcist on crack...

Not quite sure what I think of this "Geordie shore". I really can't see what people see in programs like that. I tried watching that "made in essex" the other day and ended up switching....

...Oh dear god... There's this song that is basically an advert for "visit Ecuador" It shows a man in a cowboy hat shouting thinks at a camera ending with the country. This man could effectively be shouting anything. "I am shagging your mother... come visit Ecuador!"

...An Eagle keeps popping up which I'm sure is meant to be one of those abstract allegories for something. To be honest I'm half expecting a car logo to pop up and for it to be all some subtle pointing to a car.

Car adverts have really messed up a game I used to play with myself where I had to guess what the advert was trying to sell. (A game that works well in Britian where an advert can consist of basically anything with a quick flash to the product at the end) However no. Car adverts have to be different. The volvo advert picked up on this quite well with their "how to make a sexy car" add (just a shame they were selling a 4x4... not generally considered to be sexiest car in the world...

That advert for match.com is starting to annoy me. Just saying.

Bye for now.
Adam.

A diplomat is someone who will tell you to go to hell in such a way you will look forward to the trip.

Shortest ever blog.

To get the ol' ball rolling I thought I'd follow up on a previous post and happily announce the release of the app "core" onto the app store (God I should be paid for this!) Rather addictive I must say! Well worth the monies it costs to pur-chase. On the 'tunes market place. Here's the link! Happy "Coring" (I am copyrighting that word!) http://smartcode.at/apps/#core

Onto more recent business. As anybody who was in a 2 mile radius of me from about 2 months ago will know it was my birthday on Friday. They will also know how excited I have been and have also had an overwhelming urge to punch me in the face... (note to self: Are these two phenomenon linked?!?)

I FINALLY GOT MY CUDDLY TALKING CHEWBACCA! Get in there! I mean even if he does make slightly orgasmic sounding noises when you squeeze him... Other presents include; A new coat, a fender top (Miss Johnstone), an angry birds pig (pretty awesome I must say Miss Eve), a Hollister Hoodie and photo collage (From Em (L))>

... and a pan...

I was overwhelmed by text messages. The blasted things pretty much killed my phone for most of the day so thanks for that guys ;D. I think I managed to reply to them all but if I didn't nothing personal it probably got lost in the depths of my now massive inbox... The thing is now bigger than some girl singing about her average day needing bowls...

Whilst on the subject of that awful song I'm going to jump on the proverbial bandwagon and express my annoyance of it. Is anybody else sitting there shouting at the screen for her to CHOOSE A FUCKING SEAT?!? If you watch the video backwards its about a girl who comes out of a party and becomes increasingly unpopular... SHE HAS NO SOUL. Seriously I think she's actually an animated corpse on some sick joke on the music industry...

She didn't actually write the song. Arkmusic.com or whoever she's with actually wrote the song... so no more jokes from me...

... though she probably has problems on planes...

I scored a goal in Lacrosse today... just saying.

I have decided to try and become a journalist. I don't know what you may all think of this dear readers. It is a job that is likely to keep me more on my toes than a midget at a urinal.

THAT IS ALL,

Adam.

To the woman behind me on my driving lesson the other day;

Keep honking... I'm reloading.