Baby Seagulliver's Travels

10th of July for some people was the day David Sedaris performed a book reading in Cardiff, but, for me, it was Tuesday.

Oh god, I actually made a Street Fighter reference without force– I’ll need never write again. I’ve peaked. In fairness, it was the day David Sedaris performed a book reading for me too. I won’t lead with that though– well, I already have but I’ll backtrack.

Before that happened I met Lowri, who I once again promise I haven’t invented. Her train came earlier than the internet told me. She didn’t know this and thought I was late, which angered her. Then I actually did show up, which really angered her. Alas, I was still alive. I felt like shouting I AM NOT DEAD victoriously like Chadwick Boseman does in Black Panther (apologies for ruining it- in Black Panther Chadwick Boseman is not dead).

It seemed like I hadn't shown up on time. That would've actually been the second mistake I’d made. I also started watching Iron Man 3 to trade the DVD in but hadn’t allowed myself enough time for it to finish before my train. I still haven’t now but there’s less of an excuse. My only slight reason for never finishing it is I’m not hugely motivated to just trade in a single DVD– at this time I had loads of others to go with it, by now they’d all been traded. While this was happening to me, Lowri was on a train offering grapes to Mennonites. It makes even less sense in context, trust me.

Apparently, Mennonites are allowed on trains you really do learn something new every day. I was jealous. I was born to give grapes to Mennonites. That’s usually the first thing people say about me. Truth: no one has ever said that about me– or about any other human being in existence.

It’s worth mentioning that our crossovers are always excitedly awaited by me. They make me feel like I’m in that Power Rangers' episode where the Rangers meet the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Two colourful worlds becoming one. I have no idea which one I’d be in this scenario, but since both shows were quite terrible at the time, it’s a case of choosing the lesser of two evils.

After meeting, we left the train station with intentions to find a containment vessel for the presents Lowri bought for David Sedaris himself. Among them was asalt from North Wales that’s so universally sought after it can be bought in South Wales as well. My original suggestion for a place to sit down was a cocktail bar called Barocco, one that I deliberately undersold thinking that anything slightly better than awful would automatically seem good. I actually used to do that to myself when I was expecting to meet a new person– but decided to stop when I realised that people were still extremely disappointed in me. Sorry, parents. We ended up not going to Barocco, since it was deemed too up market. It’s definitely an up market place, but, technically, everywhere’ s too up market for me so I’ve never thought of that as a reason not to visit places.

At this stage, the £15 I’d made from CEX (DISCLAIMER: other complete rip-off trade in-stores are available) was burning a dangerous cash hole in my pocket. It’s a relief we didn’t meet in London, that cash would be gone 1 half pint of water later. Speaking of half a pint of water that’s basically the amount of ice a cocktail from the Yard bar and kitchen comes with.

A surprisingly good one but there was more ice in there than in…um somewhere you’d find a lot of ice. A GIANT ICE CUBE. Perfect. I’ll rewrite it.

"There was more ice in there than in a giant ice cube."

Can’t say it doesn’t paint a picture, can you?

Lowri’s drink was orange flavoured. It was more orange flavoured than a slightly less orange flavoured drink. Such rich phrases these. It was Marmalade flavoured to be more precise, and tasted so unpleasant that...I didn’t like it much. Yes, THAT unpleasant.

Any disappointments there were redeemed with the cocktails in...

Be At One

They were more ice cream themed than a slightly less ice cream themed cocktail would be. It’s a running joke now, get used to it. Well, I say "Joke". Rhys’s pieces themed they were– spelt with regional accuracy just in case we forgot we were in Wales. What the staff couldn’t account for was the tragic tale of a lost baby seagull. Man, I didn’t know that the look of a baby seagull was so known. The basic premise of the instance went like this

LOWRI: Oh, a baby seagull

ME: Is that what they look like? Hm, never knew that

EVERY OTHER HUMAN WHO WENT PAST: Oh, a baby seagull!

Seemingly, one of those things taught in every school, other than the ones I went to. My lack of seagull knowledge was even more cruelly exposed when my attempt at seagull noises sounded as from the real thing as is humanly possible. There was a silver lining in this cloud though. It turned out to be a vaguely accurate impression of Donnie from the Wild Thornberrys. Had that been my aim, I would’ve been successful.

Not the most embarrassing part of the day, though. I did stand near a cardboard poster because I briefly thought it was a touchscreen operated map. In my defence, the area it was in usually does have those. In my non-defence (in my attack?) I realised it wasn’t touch screen a long time before I walked away from it. I was in a dilemma. Couldn’t decide which was least embarrassing out of

A) Touching it B) staring at it or C) walking away and saying ‘oh that’s just a poster’. The choice I made was the wrong one. I don’t know what the right one was. All three of them involved basically admitting to making the mistake in the first place so it felt like there was no difference.

Returning to the tale of the seagull. It was presumably attempting to find its mother. A flock of them militantly performed a winged plummet down to where he was and then paid no attention to him. He was completely in their line of sight. I don’t know why he got ignored. The RSPCA couldn’t be called but maybe social services could be- terrible parenting, that was. Maybe he was just a terrible son. I don’t know why I’ve assumed this baby seagull was male. Being a baby seagull just seems like a masculine quality. Don’t ask me to elaborate- I have just as much an idea what I’m talking about as you.

The seagull crisis ended eventually. Well, we walked away from it. It seemed to stop before we did, though. It’d make the most intense EastEnders episode ever. If they make one now I’ll know where they got the idea from. Following our anxiety about animals was the consumptions of animals: burgers from...

The Grazing Shed

We could’ve eaten before drinks but yano- when in Rome. Oh, I could’ve called one of the last blogs ‘When in Rhyl’ I’m officially furious at myself. To annotate on the burgers: In the UK they’re not called steamed hams (It’s an Albany expression). They were the sorts of burgers that you only realise your opinions on ages after they’ve been eaten. While eating them, they seem fine- the following day you’re suddenly in the mood for one. Not that they could be finished on the day- even after I walked to the toilet several times to stop feeling full. Didn’t even use the toilets in the food disposing way- just walked there, occasional number 1 (that’s not the worst one for anyone not clued up on that terminology). Sometimes that genuinely works for me. Must be all the calories that walking a few steps burns off. It’s more likely that it’s just in my head but- whatever works, that’s my motto. It’s not just me either. I saw an episode of Futurama where Fry says he does a similar thing. I remember thinking he stole my ideas.

One thing they seem to hate doing in The Grazing shed is giving their drinks ordinary names. Their equivalent of cherry coke is ‘Cherry Bakewell Soda’. They’re equivalent of lemonade is ‘Lemonade’. It’s mainly the cherry coke one that’s creatively named. The free refills are always appreciated before they’re used. After they’re used you realise you’ve paid to need a pee at inappropriate times throughout the day. I’d never pay for them if they were advertised like that. Well, I might actually.

Not long after that we entered the venue of the David Sedar-gig. I think I know the title for the next one. But I won’t discuss that yet. I’ll end with photographic proof of Lowri’s existence. The idea of recreating famous paintings at some point in the week were suggested.

Among Them Was 'American Gothic' Which never happened due to lack of pitch fork

So many times in my life I've mourned the lack of a pitch fork. Well , not much but it's bound to be an issue in the future. Mainly when I want to remake 'American Gothic'.

Another suggestion was the painting of the man in a bowler hat with the apple in front of his head- in which one of us would just pretend to be an apple.

This didnt happen due to the lack of a bowler hat

Other famous paintings that could’ve been suggested for recreation were never made due to lack of effort. The eventual picture isn’t based on any of the above. To test my own skills at description- and in preparation for the inevitable event of this becoming an audiobook, I’ll attempt to explain the nature of the picture before showing it. I’ll avoid describing myself- if I did, it’d be a disservice to the idea of reading or writing to escape the bleakness of the world. One thing I will point out is my front tooth always looks more askew on photos. Good to know running into a small wall during kiss chase wasn’t in vein- the things you do when you’re 21. The background of said photo is a muted brown. On the right behind me are some vividly coloured stain glass windows- mainly rich yellow and faded blue. Rich yellow and faded blue sound like the members of a pimp themed disco band. The glass is mostly covered by an inoffensive tan coloured small lectern and my head, which is right in front of said lectern.

Lowri’s expertly defined eyebrows are only just being noticed now that I’m looking for things to describe, and she’s smiling more fully than people usually tend to in my company, which implies she’s a great actor as well as a writer. I’m probably only a side issue, there’s also a parrot strapped to one of her ears. It’s actually her earring designed using immaculate mostly deep teal bird feathers. She told me her dad compared it to a parrot though- so I owe him for helping me bloat this paragraph beyond necessity.

I will finish this piece with a theory as to why the picture’s proven popular on Instagram: conspiracy theorists appreciate the discovery that werewolves and mermaids co-exist harmoniously.