I'd Like to Call Him Tony Stark or Mr Weasley or 'David Tries Being Opinionated'

Alright I didn't actually technically try anything new for this blog. Being a bit naughty I know, but hey, it's raining (again *) so I thought I'd communicate a thought I had this morning.

I often think about the future. Most of the time nowadays this involves all of the pointless, expensive things I would like to have but unfortunately do not possess the money to attain. The things I'd like to have aren't always so superficial. Recently as a previous blog mentioned (David Tries Being Productive) I've had a renewed thirst for gaining knowledge. It might be to do with watching the vlogs of Hank and John Green on Youtube. If you've not read the novels of John Green then I'm sorry you must, get your bottom to Waterstones, skip whatever work/school/day you had planned and have a read. He is one of the best writers on earth in my opinion and I will very much enjoy Looking for Alaska which I've saved for my upcoming holiday. The brothers live far apart and communicate with a vlog a week to each other. These vlogs are not only hilarious and celebratory of the existence of nerds and geeks and everything in between, but I find them very thought provoking.

Hank's last one for instance was about the recent controversy about states in America making gay marriage illegal. I'll leave a link to Hank's vlog at the end because he can communicate his thought's a lot better than me. I'll give it a go though.

Who decides that someone can't be who they are? That's just Nazi if you ask me. There are so many ridiculous arguments against being gay and I cannot understand the thought processes behind them. Arguments like 'it's unnatural' and 'it'll devalue the idea of straight marriage.' How and how? Natural is what people do with their lives, everything is natural because we are natural, and people are gay so gay is natural. There, take that nay-sayers, logic defies hate. Unnatural behaviour if you ask me is killing someone, that's unnatural, mugging someone of their livelihood, that's unnatural. Hating against someone for what they believe and love, that's unnatural. And devaluing straight marriage? Because celebrities getting married only to divorce five minutes later doesn't do that.

And the biggest thing which people say is 'God hates gay people.' I'll save my personal religious views for another day. Lets just say I'm not affiliated with any religion in particular, I believe in something but not in a conventional sense. Agnostic if you want to label me I guess. I have looked in the Bible though, and at the passages people interpret as anti-gay, and they're so flimsy it's ridiculous. I'm not insulting a religion, please don't think I'd do that, but I don't like people interpreting things to breed hate. Tell me, what's the difference between this and people interpreting the Qu'ran to blow up a building? I DO NOT question anyone's right to believe in anything, or indeed a right to believe in nothing. I question the sense in doing this to a so-called holy text to contradict the big message a little later in the same text. 'Treat one another as you would like to be treated.' How would you like it if the government made being straight illegal?

I apologise I'm getting on my high horse. I do have views though, and I'm not having a moan, well I am. I just think hating is nonsensical and predominantly an occupation of nasty small minded people. In David's world we would be able to like what we like, believe in what we believe and love who we love. It really annoys me when we as the human race appear to take a step backwards towards achieving this equality which everyone, hater or not apparently strives to achieve.

Now liking what we like, that's what I really wanted to talk about today. I hope I won't now devalue what I've just said. Maybe it's good, normal service has been resumed. I guess I did try something new today then! Communicating views like one of those proper blog people. I feel like I've been initiated.

Anyway, as I was saying before I was distracted, and it supports my mini-rant in a way, being knowledgable and understanding things is celebrated by the vlogbrothers, and I certainly aspire to be like them. Reading books on modernism for instance for one of my modules next year is something that I complained about only about a year ago, but now can't get enough of! I want to talk about people like Jaques Derrida and Jean Beaudrillard with conviction and knowledge behind me. And it makes me very happy when someone like John Green refers to someone like that in a vlog and I know who they are. If you don't know who they are I urge you to do a bit of research. Especially Beaudrillard, if you like artsy stuff in any way shape or form I think you'll find it interesting. Look up his 'four stages of postmodernism,' it'll leave you confused but enlightened at the same time! Or maybe I'll blog about it in the future. Actually I think I will, stay tuned!

What I really wanted to talk about today, which seems a bit unimportant now, was my perfect image of my future that I had this morning. It includes me sitting in a library in my future house. I've always wanted a library. One with big windows overlooking fields and trees and shelves groaning with books with rolling ladders. But not just books, I'm secretly obsessed with comic books.

Well not really secretly. It's something else I've noticed in thinking about our right to be who we are, and watching vlogbrothers that I have a right to like what I like in life and be proud of it. I went through school being downtrodden and mocked for wanting to learn things and for being a nerd, and it was this that broke me a little bit and why I'm only regaining my confidence with myself now. I'm glad I have, because I can now say, 'yeah I'm a geek' and 'yeah I go to bed reading Spider-man and Tintin.' I love comics, I think they're hugely under-appreciated. I recently went to see the Avengers with Stu which might have spurred on my love for them somewhat.

I just think, as a story writer myself, the fact that these writers and artists can keep stories going for literally thousands of issues, drawing on all corners of sci-fi and fantasy is amazing. How they keep on thinking of fresh ideas every week is admirable and aspirational and I'd love to emulate them in my own writing life.

Therefore in my library with my rolling ladders I want a whole stack of comic books all lined up in order because I'm a bit OCD with shelving. Not just comics though, I've recently taken the dive off the musically intellectual high board. This might sound poncy and pretentious, but I've recently been trying to get into classical music and I intend to move onto opera. I was inspired by Britain's Got Talent believe it or not. You might have seen it, look up 'Jonathan Does Opera' on youtube and you'll find him. He sang Opera with his girlfriend Charlotte on BGT and I was completely and utterly blown away. He was singing in a different language but he brought an emotional response out of me. So I'm now very interested in exploring the classical strand of music. I really want to go to the Royal Opera House wearing a suit (because you have to) and feel jolly well clever.

So I want lots of records of classical music. I might have mentioned it before, I collect LPs, I just love them. I love all things classic really! That's why I write with a fountain pen. But records I think are special. First of all they baffle me. How do they make sound?? They're grooves in a bit of plastic! And the sound's far and away better than any other way of listening to music. I'm sure others who know the difference between speakers would argue, but to my ears vinyl is best.

And also I'd like some Burt Bacharach and Bob Fox, an amazing folk singer I discovered in Warhorse. Bacharach though is because of Mr Gallagher's influence. I defy you to go listen to 'Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head' and not smile. So I want records in my dream library, and a gramophone to play them on. I can read my comics with my music with a nice cup of tea and a packet of bourbon biscuits.

Then I could do some writing and read some books on theories of stuff and paint a picture. Tell me that doesn't sound like a perfect hate-free place to be?

I also want a hamster, he can roll around in a little hamster ball and keep me happy. I'm easily pleased. He'll either be called Tony Stark or Mr Weasley I haven't decided yet.

That's right ladies, all of this is single.

If you'd like to comment on anything then there's a box made just for you below this post! Or if you'd really like, give me an email as my super-special email account just for my readers. OhBloggingHell@hotmail.co.uk.

* Today is the 14th May 2012 and the weather outside looks like this:

According to the good people in our government here in Great Britain, this is called a drought. I know, we voted for them. Oh wait... **

** I do understand that we are only technically in a 'drought' because last year we had a really low rainfall and as a result of this the water levels we have to use have to be brought back up again. Therefore we have to be thrifty with our water usage. But still! Is it that hard to give this particular situation another name? This is quite clearly not a drought. A drought is something I associate with sun and hot and sand and the start of Order of the Phoenix! We thought of a name for Twitter we can think of a new name for this!! Watergate! Oh no that's a thing. Droughtgate? Oh that doesn't really solve the issue. I'll get on it.

Hank's vlog about gay rights: http://youtu.be/PD-INsIbVcw

Some kind Super Shampoo! or Superpoo? or 'David Tries Being Sensible'

I'm afraid I've lied to you dear reader, I have been in no way sensible. God knows I tried but I'm just too much weird to manage it!

It all started so well. I tried wet shaving yesterday and oh my god was it worth it! I've always been a dry shave and stubble trimmer kind of guy, but I just thought the other day 'you know what man-skill I really should master?' Of course I speak of the wet shave. It's featured so much in our TV culture, the father that teaches the son how to carve the hair from his face using a series of razors. Is there any more manly moment in the world? You might as well spit from a car, powersliding around a racetrack set on fire with vodka. Even that pales in comparison to using whatever Gilette-Fusion-Power-Stealth-Awesome-Sex-Device that you've decided to use to tidy up your face fuzz. Some consumer advice, the Gilette Fusion Stealth Power is actually a waste of money, do as I did and buy the Gilette Fusion Pro-glide. I know, it sounds a bit nancy but when you hold it and you feel the weight and man is with razor then you'll know you've made the right decision.

And the shaving gel! I've never had a more amazing substance on my face...that came out wrong. What I mean to say is, it starts off as gel, until you rub it in, and it explodes into some kind of crazy lubricating foam stuff! That's soap you idiot! I hear you cry but trust me it makes soap look like last season's chinos.

Anyhow, with this highly successful new thing tried and a beautifully closely shaved smooth face, I tried very hard to continue my sensible(ish) week by going to the gym this morning. I'm going on holiday next week with my friends and I'm determined to do something over the next few days about my takeaway belly. This means of course that I am now aching. What worries me is that the game of Kinect Sports I had with Stu and Simon last night has made me ache more than the gym. Either Microsoft has created the world's greatest fitness device or I'm doing the gym wrong.

I was quite proud of myself as I grabbed a Subway on the way home. (Only a 6 inch, getting a footlong after the gym would have been a bit like painting the wall of your living room a delightful shade of magnolia and then weeing all over it) I then had the world's greatest sit-down on my return and considered what to do with the rest of my day.

After watching Glee and League of Their Own, horror struck me. There was something I was supposed to do today. I was missing out on an opportunity that every man woman and child in the universe would hate me for passing up. If you have not done what I've just been to do then I implore you, go and do the same! There is still time.

Today in the Sun, there is a free UEFA Euro 2012 Poland-Ukraine Panini Football Sticker Album. Football stickers are one of my favourite things ever. Or they were when I was a bit younger. When the Sun Dream Team emailed me yesterday (I'm 2nd in our house league by the way, not bad) about this once in a lifetime deal, I was very much so excited and decided to not make a fool of myself and pass it up. Which is why I'm glad that the album is sat next to me on the sofa and I plan to get a job for the soul purpose of completing it. A feat which we all strive for but few manage.

My trip to Sainsbury's therefore was where my sensibleness or sensibilitude if you will (new word, use it wisely) promptly disappeared. It hadn't started well since I was only going to get a sticker album. But somewhere between watching Glee and dramatically miming Noel Gallagher songs on the walk there I went a bit mad. I shouldn't really be allowed to go to Sainsbury's by myself. Yes I bought milk and 48 Weetabix, a sensible breakfast option...

Just a quick aside, what is the point of Shredded Wheat? What a diabolical waste of breakfast! They're hollow for God's sake! Ian Botham tells us about their nutritional value from inside them, I've seen it on TV! But they're just so dull! I'd rather have Ricicles and no one wants Ricicles.

Anyway, I then bought Shampoo as I was out. A new Herbal Essences one, this once promising 'Renewed Colour' or something along those lines. (Really straight honest) An idea struck me as I browsed the brightly coloured hair-oriented delights that I maintain are in the aisle which clearly says 'Men's Toiletries'. All you girls are being so manly with Herbal Essences! Anyway, I suddenly thought, what if I combined Seductively Straight, with this colour one, with the one which adds volume! A shampoo I've always steered clear of, the last thing my tangled mess of hair needs is volume. But surely, if I combined it with the other two I'll have hair rivalled only by David Tennant and David Ginola! I could merely flick my hair and the ladies would flock around me in bikinis! I wouldn't even need Lynx. I'll have some kind of Super Shampoo! or Superpoo! Oh no, maybe not. It's a thought anyway.

I implore you to find a stranger man than I.

My trip to Sainsbury's was met with a small fail however. I did also attempt to buy a hanging basket of strawberries because I really like strawberries, but the item was recalled and the self checkout machine freaked out so I followed suit and ran away.

Some things even I won't be judged for and trying to buy a recalled hanging basket of strawberries is one of them.

Potholing, Continental Shoe Shopping, a Nazi Regime and a Wet Bottom or 'David Tries Italy Episode Two'

Well I say potholing, what I really mean is climbing St Peter's Basilica.

Anyone who has tried tackling this ridiculously generously proportioned church will know what I mean. To get to the top (since the elevator only takes you halfway) you have to climb a bazillion flights of tight staircases which twist and turn up through the dome. I have advice, if you're in any way claustrophobic, or if you're any fatter than the people who survive on 4 fried eggs from a packet of Haribo and a Wotsit a day from Supersize v Superskinny, stay at the bottom. The view's good but no one wants to get wedged in a basilica. I'll try and post some photos at the end of this blog to communicate the kind of caves more at home in films like 'The Descent', that me and my family were forced to traverse.

And then there was the top, and the view. Now the view was breathtaking, don't get me wrong. It's an interesting fact that the basilica is still the tallest building in Rome, not because of any rule or religious obligation, it just is and no one wants to build anything higher! I like little traditions and peculiarities like that. It is impressive standing looking out across the rooftops of Rome trying to take artistic photographs.

This however I found a challenge. The viewing platform at the top of St Peter's might as well be the Somme, or downtown Baghdad, or any number of frightfully unpleasant places. I mean no one died, which is a plus point for any holiday destination, but up at the top, it's absolute mayhem. The way up isn't controlled at all after the queue where you have to pay €7.50, probably to line old Pope Benni's pockets a bit more, and people are allowed to stay up there as long as they like. So people stay gawping at the view while yet more people come up behind them. And then there's no direction to go around the platform up there. It's round so any sensible person might suggest putting up a sign that says 'walk clockwise please' or 'stop shoving me' or 'these shoes are new, stop stepping on my toes'! In Italian of course. Therefore my experience up at the highest point in Rome was tarnished severely by this lack of organisation.

The Vatican is incredible though, I'd definitely recommend going. It was a recurring theme in Rome, everything's so big! The Vatican, the Pantheon, the Colisseum, wherever you are you constantly find yourself craning your neck to see some more intricate carvings or mosaics on the ceiling, or finding something yet more impressive to sit on the front of your 'my Roman Holiday' facebook album, which reminds me I still need to do. I took 600 photos! My poor iphone got very tired. I'd recommend the camera on the 4S though, I'm really rather proud of some of the photos I took! (see below to see if you agree!) It's a whole new level of amazing to think, when looking at a statue, or a mosaic, how long ago some of these things were made. It's especially mind blowing when you visit places like Pompeii, to look at things and think 'a Roman made that!' And especially amazing to think that these things survived Mount Vesuvius erupting. I'm not sure I agree with the bodies of people who died in the disaster being put on display in glass cases though, it's all a bit sad for my liking. And a bit rude, if I die tomorrow, number one on my list of wishes is to not be put on display in a glass case for tourists to gape at.

One other annoying thing about the otherwise amazing Vatican, was the Sistine Chapel. It's amazing, don't get me wrong (again), but I didn't really enjoy the way you get treated in there. Another interesting titbit of info, is that many moons ago Nikon bought the rights to the Michelangelo paintings on the ceilings and walls, and therefore you're not allowed to take photos. You get led into the chapel, pushed shoulder to shoulder like a herd of sheep, and get incrementally shouted at for so much as sneezing in the direction of a painting. It was all a bit Nazi for my liking! I did very much enjoy my trip to the Vatican though, I feel like all I've done is moan. I urge you to go and do all that's on offer! Take a guided tour though, we'd have got lost if we hadn't been guided round by a chirpy Lithuanian tour guide who looked like Meg Ryan.

So I tried many new things on my Roman Holiday. Where to start I ask myself! First of all, I was confronted on the very first night in our hotel, by a scary looking device which I'm sure unsettles many a holiday goer. A slightly worrying looking bowl-like object which sits in the corner of the bathroom just daring you to have a seat. I of course am talking about the dreaded bidet.

I felt as though I wouldn't have been doing my job as a trier of new things if I didn't give it a go. I'll spare you the details. However during my bidet adventure, many questions arose into my head as to what kind of numpty invented this ridiculous bit of plumbing. Ok how to deal with this delicately. What do you do? Are you meant to sit on the bowl? No thanks I'm not an animal! This leaves the only other option being hovering. Already the sweat was on my brow and to be honest it was adding a whole level of worry and stress to my bathroom experience that I really could have done without.

Then there's the using of the thing which is awkward in itself, then you're done. Now what? You're confronted with a very wet bottom yet you're still fully clothed hovering over a bathroom appliance. This is not where I wanted to be on my first night in Rome. A cleverer man might have seen this coming and brought a towel across the room with him to the bidet. But I was a bidet virgin I didn't know! So all in all not my favourite experience ever. Nobody wants to walk with their trousers around their ankles, it's well known to be the hardest thing anyone has ever had to do! And the wet bottom just added to this. My first failure of trying new things.  It was bound to happen I suppose. Maybe I tried too much too soon? Anyway, I implore you to learn from my mistakes and leave this most peculiar of bathroom fixtures to it's own devices in the corner. When I come to power I'm going to make them illegal I'll say that much.

Apart from this minor setback though Rome was rather good! I plan to return there one day when I'm rich * to the area around a (once again) very big site in Rome called the Spanish Steps. There were so many designer shops that I would just love to stroll into and buy one thing for a million pounds! They even had the watch James Bond wears! An Omega Seamaster (I'm a JB nerd), it's a sexy piece of kit! I urge you to give it a google! It was Price on Application though. A worrying thing to see on a price label. It means you suggest a price and the seller either agrees or disagrees. I very much wanted to suggest €10.50 and a packet of Skittles but I think they might have laughed me out of the country. One day I'll return though! I'm determined! It's like the time I was about 13 and sat in a Ferrari in a supercar garage and the snippy man from upstairs ran down and shooed me from the shop! I will return to that garage and buy a Ferrari one day and I shall laugh in his face with my black American express card. Or some other kind of card with the word 'platinum' in the title, that's always good. For the sort of prices I expect they'll ask for that watch though I'd want it to shoot laser beams and make my tea like James' one does!

One thing I was able to do though which I was very happy about, was buy a new pair of Converse! In Rome! It was in a Foot Locker so I know they're real! But you can't get them here! I can't find them anyway. You probably can, but for now I'm going to say when someone asks where I got my beautiful new Converse, I can reply 'oh Rome' like a rich bastard! I do like the occasional taste of the high life, like when me and Stu decided to opt for the Sainsbury's own brand pasta rather than Sainsbury's basics to treat ourselves. We know how to live!

Continental shoe shopping was tricky though! Another piece of advice on going to Italy is learn some Italian. It should be obvious but I'd really recommend it. It's not like Spain when every man and his dog knows English. Which is fair enough I think! It's rather good really that they haven't succumbed to it because Italian is a rather beautiful language and a future new thing to try will be learning it! I bought two Italian cookbooks to help me with this. So when I translate them and make tasty foods hopefully I'll pick some up.

One last thing, which rounded off my holiday perfectly was on the last day, after power-walking around Pompeii constantly checking the mountain wasn't on fire, and after a starter of mozzerella, tomato and basil and battered seaweed (give it a go, it's wonderful), the waiter said the phrase 'shutuppayourface' to his daughter, and I have honestly never been happier.

I do hope that coin I threw in the fountain of Trevi does indeed bring me back to Rome one day.



Potholing in St Peter's

 The biggest church in the world (must be said in the voice of JC...Jeremy Clarkson not Jesus Christ)

 Oh those sexy Italians...

 My beautiful new Converse

 A rather nice Italian scene (it says Happy Easter on the wall, I thought it was topical)

 One of my favourite pictures from one of Rome's many, many, many fountains

Arrivederchi!


*the method of attaining this level of richness is still a puzzle to me, but I really think it was my life's calling! I'd be so good at it!

P.S. I also tried planking, it's a lot of fun I'd advise giving it a go

Kettlegate and the Taxi of Doom or 'David Tries Italy Episode One'

You might think it strange starting a blog about Italy talking about kettles. Probably a bit rude and uncontinental - oh that’s not a word, it should be! That’s mine, I’ve invented that, hands off! I’m going to be rich!

Anyway kettles. My dad is a huge fan of tea, as am I, and tea is a central part of my family’s lifestyle and I’m quite happy about this. It’s the most British of things a good old cup of tea with a saucer and a jaffa cake, in a mug suitably sized for dunking. I’ve recently discovered there are people who don’t dunk their biscuits in their tea! Isn’t that unconstitutional or something? I know we don’t have a constitution in Britain but if we did, rule number one would be ‘thou shalt dunk thy biscuit’. 

Because of this love of the hottest of tasty beverages however there arose an issue in my household. My dad suddenly became very worried that there would be no kettle in our hotel room. I know, a scary thought for anyone. Therefore, naturally, my wise old father decided that the only logical solution to this problem was to take our home kettle and put it in a suitcase and bring it across europe with us. Of course mum disagreed seeing that with Argos’ extensive range of travel kettles (2), taking a full-sized kitchen appliance cross-continent was stupid. These were not her exact words but this is a family friendly blog! These discussions continued throughout the whole time I returned home from uni until my dad finally relented and was forced to travel to Argos to shell out £14.99 for a travel kettle. The settling argument being mum’s ‘the kettle or me’. A shrewd womanly tactic which won through as I now sit in the rather nice Hotel Petra with the waft of darjeeling finding my nostrils. I did think it was a dangerous one. Words cannot describe how much the man loves tea. He’s like Wallace with cheese, so suffice to say, it was a close shave. *

This, an unlikely, rather humorous episode that can only occur in my family, therefore I’ve devoted the first part of my first Italian adventure to recount this to you. 

So many things I’d like to talk about! I think I’d better start at the beginning with my love for Stansted airport. So many eventful things occurred here! Firstly, (and fittingly) in an optimistic ‘trying new things’ mood, I had baked beans with my all day breakfast! It’s always been a source of annoyance to me (and probably others) that I’ve lived my life bean-phobic. I don’t know why, I think I found the texture strange or something when I was young. But today I tried them and my God they were good. That first forkful of sausage/bean/bacon/mushroom was a delight I wish to repeat and I can see for many years I’ve been foolish. Beans are good, and shall feature in my fried breakfasts from this day forward!

I do like Stansted, it’s set out so well! I always recount (and probably bore) people with my finding it impressive how it separates check-in, passport, control and shops in one big hall. And then there’s the Stansted magic rollercoaster rail thingy! The one that transports you to your gate with views of the runways! It always awakes a childlike joy in me when I get the chance to take a ride in it. I’m a very easily pleased human. My mum however never has a particularly good experience at my favourite airport. Twice her hand luggage was searched for bombs and/or drugs. I’ve never thought my mum looks like a drug pedalling terrorist but airport security clearly think otherwise! Poor mum! She’s lovely really! **

So after two hours of drinking Starbucks and trying on things I can’t afford in the Sunglasses Hut (the  favourite activity of any airport goer) we boarded our plane (me with luxurious foot-space but a worrying emergency door responsibility) and two short Kindle-laden hours later we landed in Roma!

Now to the crux of this blog. Taxi drivers.

An interesting fact I learnt on the Million Pound Drop the other day while me and my friend Jocy relaxed after dinner, was that the word ‘taxi’ is the same in all languages! Well, English, German and apparently Italian anyway. I’m an English student, this puts my nerd radar on red alert and now it’s a favourite fact of mine!

On following the helpful ‘Taxi’ sign in a sea of sexy looking Italian words we found our way into an equally sexy little white Fiat. I’d like to make the point that my dad was too scared to sit in the front with the taxi driver so I had to endure about 15 minutes of British embarrassed silence while having dance music forced into my ears. My dad’s ‘I forgot the passenger goes on that side’ excuse is a tad suspicious don’t you think? I don’t mind, I like being a man, and sitting in the front with the taxi driver on holiday is textbook man-zone. And I don’t usually act the man, I like to use Herbal Essenses ‘Tousle Me Softly’ for instance. And I very much like baking and home interiors. I care not, one day a lucky lady will enjoy soft tousleable hair, tasty cakes and a chic house to enjoy both these things in! So I like being the man at other times, like calling British Gas, and driving without a satnav and sitting with taxi drivers.

This was no ordinary taxi. This was Italy’s answer to Indiana Jones. This was the Taxi of Doom. I noticed on the (thankfully short) trip to the Hotel Petra, that Italian drivers are insane. I hate to stereotype. Alright, the cars I saw, and our taxi driver was insane. He was on his phone, using his opposite hand to change gear, weaving this way and that, complaining in fast Italian at even worse drivers. (I replied with a helpful, agreeable ‘hmmm’ to this) I constantly found myself checking my mirror and stabbing my foot at a brake pedal I didn’t have access to. 

Strangely I found myself thinking ‘So this is what it’s like to have a child’. One day off in the future, I’ll be sitting in an Apple iCar with my young excited child and I feel I’ll go through that experience all over again. Hopefully though my child won’t swear (presumably) in Italian at other drivers and look like Alice Cooper. Thankfully though I am still alive and itching to get out exploring Rome! 

I’m glad I started this blog, I always feel a bit unsettled on the first evening of a holiday. Especially when it’s night. But good old writing, saved the day again! Hope you enjoyed this part one of my Roman holiday! 

Ciao for now!

• I apologise for the in-joke if you haven’t seen Wallace and Gromit: A Close Shave. If you haven’t and you’d like to try a new thing today I’d highly recommend giving this or indeed any Wallace and Gromit a watch.

      ** My mum is actually an extremely lovely human lady whose activities include sending    hilarious texts during football and accompanying me to concerts because of a very cool taste in music! 

The World's Sexiest Bhaji or 'David Tries a New Curry Place'

Didn't think I'd post again so soon but I've got the blogging buzz! And I did try something new yesterday so here we are. What did I try you ask? Skydiving? Rob a bank? Engage in a cheeky bout of dogging?

No, (I'd like to make it clear that I never have, nor do I intend to dog, do you say dog? Or is it always dogging? I've gone smutty on my second blog, that's unfortunate. C'est la vie!) I tried a new curry house. Myself and my good friend Stuart like to think of ourselves as fast food connoisseurs, and it's always an exciting moment in our house when we try a new one. There was many an evening when we were disappointed by our ref (canteen)'s food at uni last year so we often found ourselves scouring the streets of Twickenham and Richmond to fill our bellies with tasty (heavily saturated) treats. I know, I hear you crying out, it's risky to live our lives so dangerously, but curry is and always will be a top notch dish to find on your table. And tell me (without blinking) that you don't want one right now?! Go on, pick up the menu, you know you want to!

I'd highly recommend Spice Dew in Twickenham, a good curry is hard to find! And there's nothing more disappointing than a rubbish takeaway. Well there probably are more disappointing things; rain when it's meant to be sunny, the film Memento, dyphtheria's a bit squiffy I hear. But I'm sure a rubbish takeaway ranks fairly highly at least on the list of the world's most disappointing things. You know when it looks good but all tastes the same? Or it's just all grease no food?

Spice Dew, aside from having quite a chucklesome name was excellent. I always have the conversation with assorted people about their choice of curry order. Personally (despite quite liking a bit of spice in my food) I generally plump for a good old fashioned lamb korma. Can't go wrong really! Naturally with peshwari naan and poppadoms. And bhajis, and oh my god were they good! I've had some good bhaji in my time but these were something special. I know this sounds like a 'that's what she said' moment, but I don't even care, they were that good. I'd go back just for them to be honest! They were juicy, and spiced with the condiments of the gods, if there are gods who enjoy condiments!

Now I'm sure to most, that's quite a namby pamby curry order, and people would call me a chicken for having a distinct lack of spice in my meal! I've just never understood the culture of having the hottest meal on the menu just to sit there half an hour later all teary and snotty! I like a good tasting meal, and korma and pasanda (which Spice Dew unfortunately didn't have) deliver ever time! I intend to branch out on my curry orders in the future, because I'm sure there's loads I'd like! What is a bhuna for example? And what in god's name does ordering sagaloo entail? These are questions to which I rather desperately want to know the answer. And David Tries New Things will go there! And then some!

Oh no I've used the phrase 'and then some', I think that's treason in some cultures, but never mind.

My favourite part of the Spice Dew experience was the delivery man. Suited and booted, cheery and cool-box laden, he marched to the door as happy as a mouse in a cheese factory. I had to stifle many a giggle as he did this and then greeted me, and to be honest he looked like he had the best job in the world! I'd have tipped him if I hadn't pre-paid. Maybe he was a 'you had to be there' delivery man, you get them sometimes.

It's no wonder I've had to join a gym.

Oh Blogging Hell or 'David Tries a Scratch-card'

Hello!
A fine start to my blogging career I feel.

I've always wanted to try my hand at this blogging business, and silly excuses have always held me back. There is no actual excuse though in this day and age I feel to call yourself a writer and not publish your writing in the simplest of ways. Faced by this worrying realisation I decided I'd better get a move on with the whole thing. My biggest obstacle has always been the continual feeling of being stumped as to what to write about. I do write though, a theme of this blog will be my striving to get my first novel published. I spoke to a literary agent not two hours ago at my university and hold her business card in my hand as I blog to you! Well not in my hand, I'm typing, a renowned two handed activity, but it's nearby I assure you!

I have a vast array of things near to me, and it was these and other things which led me to my blog idea, my thing to write about. I realise that I buy an awful lot of things that you'd probably say I don't need being a student of minimal funds. However I continue to buy books, and films, and magazines, and new, unusual exciting foods to tickle my taste-buds. I figured why not write about this! And then move onto other things. I decided that if I could I'd try something new at least once a week and then record my findings in the hope that someone might be interested. Today for instance I bought a GQ magazine, not at all enticed by the sexy lady on the glossy front cover. And the other day I bought 'Photography for Dummies', my latest attempt to be jack of all trades at all things creative. So expect many moody, artsy-fartsy, yet ultimately quite rubbish photos of things around my lovely Twickenham student house in blogs to come!

Therefore my blog will be one of many forms, sometimes book reviews, sometimes film reviews, or food reviews as anyone who knows me will tell you I have a vast array of cookbooks in the hope that I'll absorb some kind of actual cookery talent and create some recipes of my own. Quickly, to encompass my blog's raison d'etre (that's right, I went French on you) ...probably could have worded that differently, but I come to my 'new thing' for today, or yesterday rather.

I digress, yesterday I found a scratch-card in one of my many magazine subscriptions. I'm sure as most magazine readers (and I'm in the 'aholic' category) do, on opening my shiny new Empire magazine proclaiming that I'll be intrigued by Prometheus, a rather cool, yet terrifying prequel to the Alien series, a scratch-card fell into my lap. Naturally I scratched it, and as always I found I'd won. Instead of having a moan as I'm sure my dad would do about scams, I decided to text the number I had been given to see if I'd won £1 million. What a coup for my first blog! A million smackers sitting in my back pocket to spend on all the new things I could dream of!

Alas I didn't win a million pounds, however I did win (allegedly - still skeptical yet ever-hopeful) a trip for two on a posh Thames cruise, and a trip to a similarly posh salon to get a free expensive haircut! Not perturbed by my lack of £1 million, I'm going to follow this up and use the code they gave me to see if I can blog from the Thames, preferably with some kind of supermodel looking girl at my side sipping champagne.

I managed to attract her because of my sexy free haircut.

So I shall keep you posted on my quest to get many nice things for minimal effort or money. Surely the task of any student.

I hope you read this and my following entries on here. Well I guess you have now being at this end of the post!

There, that was rather painless, hope to see you again on here soon.

DS :)