Definitely not a cry for help (I'm FINE), and not attention-seeking (well, no more than usual, any road) and I think I'm writing it to keep a record of it, and offload it: Better out than in (as my dear, sweet, grandmother would say). I've always loved an off-season seaside resort. I enjoy the melancholy vibe. I particularly love this stretch of Welsh *checks* Cambrian coast; the location of many happy family holidays with my parents, brother, aunt, uncle, cousins, and Grandad Evans, who I adored: Funny, mild-mannered, generous: a true role model. He died when I was 12; the first human death I experienced. I think of him often, in fact, every time I wash my face in cold water; something he did every night; he told me so in a holiday cottage not far from here, in Harlech; one of those trivial incidents and conversations which resonate for a lifetime. I've been melancholic for a while, particularly in the last week, where the deaths of people have made me think of mort...
Crisp talk, sweet reviews, car, train, transport & tech chat, pics of food/street vomit/wolf fleeces/windsocks/three-quarter length trousers, plus hackneyed jokes, lazy musings, ill-informed opinions, biting satire, music, events, comedy & cinema, with tales of high jinks, scraperism & japerism, travel pics, drivel, twaddle, Popmaster, & comment from a middle aged man living in South Birmz, who frankly should know better, and is trying to make sense of the world. Would recommend.