The Kids I Live WithGeorgeJess

Skittles Night in Bath

Perfect skittles form!

Some of the boys on the team.

End of they alley

The full team.

Barry and Colin Carey

Col Si and I.

At Filo's after.

Scenic view of Bath the next morning.

Warwick and I

Warwick Roberts (my bosses son) and I shopping in Bath a few weeks back

Feist Goes Corporate

Possibly the best solo artist on the planet right now, Leslie Feist, who only goes by her surname Feist, has a song in a new Lacoste advert. Usually I would flip out and scream bloody murder when an artist I am obsessed with sells out and lets their art be used for commercial reasons, but she truly deserves it. The other reason I'm not mad is that I have had Lacoste cologne before and it's damn good. Call me crazy but I think I may have to pick up a bottle of this new fragrance dubbed "Essential." The commercial has a gentlemen jumping from stump to stump in front of a beach avoiding waves, while "Mushaboom" plays in the background. A friend of mine who is a friend of Leslie's, told me that she was offered a similar deal from McDonald's but turned it down. If anyone in the states sees the ad please let me know.

The Bloke Who's Crib I Live At

His name is Neville Yates and he's a funny lad. I live with him, his wife Jo, and her two children, George 13, and Jess 14. He is a health nut and runs Ironmans. I never realized it but you do the swimming and biking and THEN you run a full marathon! He's a really great guy and very much a kid at heart. They treat me very nice and even gave me my own fridge and freezer dedicated to me!

I have found my new favorite beer. It's called Kronenbourg Blanc. It's a white lager in the style of Hoegaarden and Blue Moon. Unfortunately it is made by the French, but as I was telling my friend, I don't care if the Nazi's brew it as long as it tastes good I'll drink it. The ad's are a little freaky with that sort of hot albino chick in it. Yeah...Blanc...White...we get it...we don't need Casper staring at us though.

Stars in Manc

After already buying tickets to see the Montreal outfit Stars in Cardiff Wales, which is close to me but a pain in the ass to get to, I brainstormed with my bosses wife Nicola and luckily enough they were playing Manchester at the same time as I was going to be there for my new job's orientation. After the induction ceremony I went back to my new friend Charlie Murphy's (no lie), who played lax in college with my friend Tom Moriarty at Denison, in Altricham. We had a quick bite at Pizza Hut where I heard Badly Drawn Boy song on the radio....crazy I know but he is from Manchester. So I then took the train from Altricham(which I got laughed at for not pronouncing it Altringham) to Piccadilly station in Manchester, and from there I went to the venue. It was a place called the Roadhouse, and if I didn't ask 10 people I would have never found it. As I walked in the first opener who had a smoke machine operator, murmured through their set consisting on one constant 30 minute song tied together with audio clip of speeches from such people as Robert F. Kennedy. The 2nd band, who I thought were the roadies for Stars, Roland Shanks, weren't too bad although I was impatiently expecting Stars. Their music was typical 21st century revivalist 80's minimalistic garage rock. The funniest part were these two blokes who between every song chanted "You are so generic!" to the melody of Guantanamera. After they exited it was pretty quick for Stars to get on, mostly because they set up all their equipment themselves. They played all the hits and telling by my pics I stood on a chair to right of the stage where there was a little side area. It was a dungeon like venue but that's my favorite kind. After the encore all but Torquil the singer went back into the dressing room. I approached him and we had a nice chat. I told him about my circumstances of being from Buffalo and having just moved to the country, so I thanked him for the welcoming gift. We talked about their ensuing tour in the states with Deathcab For Cutie, who he informed me had just sold ten thousand copies of their new album in its first week, which is pretty good for an ex indie band. We also talked about Broken Social Scene, whom two members of Stars are member of, and how their album which is to be released on October 4th had already been leaked to the internet. Very logically he explained how indie bands can't rely on records sales but make most of their profit on live shows. I told him I felt no remorse for downloading it due to all the money I have already spent, and the numerous people I have turned on to the band. He assured me BSS and more importantly Feist would be over in England while I would be living there. I walked back to Piccadilly hopped the train back to Altricham and all was well. Here's a BBC review from the show.Piccadilly Manchester

Josh Kruk: Writer, Frat-Boy, Behemoth

As I followed a link from his profile on AIM, I found out that my friend Josh Kruk is a writer for a reputable hockey website called InsideHockey.com. This kid can really write too. I have always regarded him as an intellectual slacker so I am hardly surprised, but it is nice to read an article that is at the same time smart and flowing. Give it a read especially if you're a Sabres fan because this kid really knows what he's talking about. Josh's Article Josh's Frat-Boy Profile

England Wins The Ashes

For the first time in 18 years the English cricket team has beaten Australia to capture the historic ashes. Since 1882, England and Australia every two years play the highly competitive cricket match called "The Ashes." In 1877 when Australia beat the Brit's they were so angry they burned the wickets (the vertical stumps) and placed them in an small urn. I must say I am a fan of cricket now. They play five "tests" which consist of about five days of all day playing. If you thought baseball was long and drawn out, it's not even close. The part that was the weirdest was that England won when the umpires declared bad light and a guy came out and pulled the wicket out of the ground and they won. Us Americans would never be able to have a championship decided by bad light. The young superstar of the English side, Andrew "Freddie" Flintoff became a hero considering his play and his fresh face. After the championship he partied for basically 24 straight hours. He was wasted when they visited the Prime Minister and the Queen. On the cover of one of the newspapers they showed him at a press conference with basically the reddest eyes I've ever seen in my life. I detect a hint of Photoshopping but none the less the bloke looked like he was hanging out with Cheech and Chong, and Snoop Dogg at the same time. Here's a few good pics from the test's.

Skittles

A True Man's Game

I have officially played the greatest bar game in the world. It's called Skittles and I'm in love. It is a hybrid of bowling and shuffle board, played in the basements of most of the United Kingdoms pubs. It's basically a wooden alley with nine small wooden pins erected in a diamond at the far side of the lane. Each player gets three shotput sized rubber balls to knock the pins down. You cannot bank the ball off the sides and some players roll the ball some bounce it. I play for the prestigious Baystar Club in Bath, the is over 50 years old but we're not doing too well. At the moment we are in the cellar in more ways than one. I have yet to pick up on the nuances of the game that my teammates who have been playing for decades seem to have mastered. I will not lie and say I am any good because I play about as well as an Englishman playing baseball. The most important stat is that every player out of the eight a side usually buys a round of pints. By the end of the night you are thoroughly pissed. Here's a link to a great website on Skittles...The Online Guide to Skittles

OK in the UK As I was in the terminal at JFK last night I stated to get really nervous and already homesick. Placing a final call to the 'rents did nothing to suppress those feelings either. As I was sitting on the computer waiting for the boarding calls, the African Virgin Airlines employee came on the loudspeaker to tell us that the flight would be delayed, even though I had to piece together what he was saying because it seemed he spoke less English than Helen Keller. I had notice another gentlemen fairly close to my age sitting a few seats from me making fun of the announcement as I was. We got to talking and I found out that he was on his way back to England after coaching football in New Jersey for 5 months, and that he attended Bath University. As I began to frantically pick his mind (as I so often do) I found out a lot about my new residence and it really seemed to calm my fears about the trip. He said that Bath University has the best athletic complex of all the universities in country, even including the best basketball courts in the country. He assured me that if I make the trip I could sneak my way into playing sports there. As for the flight itself, it was great. Virgin makes Jetblue look like flying with the Wright brother's. They have a much larger television screen than JB does, and get this, you get to pick what you want to watch. They have great English and American comedy shows, movies that were out in the theaters in the beginning of the summer, games, music, and all aspects of the flights information. You can see down to the minute and mile how far you are from the destination. The meal blew but I jinxed myself to the surprise of most of you. I let the hairy Portuguese man next to me pick his dinner first. He picked the beef stew and wouldn't you know it, it was the last one. I was forced to choose the Salmon with rice. So gross, but of course I ate every piece. I watched “The Hitchhikers Guide to The Galaxy” and an episode English version of “The Office.” The best line coming when the dopie assistant comes in late to a seminar and is asked by the spokesman what his fantasy is...”Two lesbians, sister's, and I'll watch!” I tried unsuccessfully many times to sleep but with my frame it's literally impossible. The times I did fall asleep I'd wake myself up by drooling or snorting. The flight touched down around 6:30 am your time, where I boarded a bus that took me to the baggage claim. I then collected my luggage and made my way through the maze to the Heathrow Express, which is much like the Airtrain which took me to Paddington Station. It's a little like Penn Station but it doesn't have the world's most famous arena above it. From Paddington I took a train to Bath where I was picked up by my new friend Colin Carey. He's an older chap but parties with the best of us. Colin drove me to his humble abode where I dropped off my luggage and took a well deserved shower. We then walked to the closest pub for a bite and a pint. Unfortunately I decided to have what he was having and when I saw the raggedy bar maid literally pull the tap handle down to pump out the beer I knew I was in trouble. When the urine temperature bitter beer hit my lips, images of me being caressed by my mother instantly popped into my head. This shit was so warm I wouldn't have drank it when I was 15 years old. We sat down and had a nice meal though. Their “sides” are much different than ours. With my chicken can a dressingless salad with peas on it, onion rings, and chips (fries of course). I couldn't keep my eyes open so Colin agreed it was time to get back. He said it was officially the first time he had had only one beer in a pub. I don't doubt his alcoholism but that's a little hard to believe. There's chapter one...chapter two will come next with highlights of the Bath 8's lacrosse tournament, my work details, England winning the Ashes back, England losing to Northern Ireland in football, and of course my driving adventures! Thanks for your support, Brand Knew