Baban, mae'n boeth yn fama. Serious. That is why I am not wearing any clothes. FACT! Ah, the joys of bachelorhood. I can sit around my flat in the crazy boeth writing video treatments and drawing pink blobs in ruffs and smoking bones, and when I go to the fridge to get my water, I can SWANG DEEZE NUTS!

OK, calm down, Jesus.

We had an excellent time in Abersoch on Saturday, thank you, amongst the surfists and the madmen. North Walians don't take steroids like the South Welsh do. Nor do they wear so much fluffy pink. It was a totally different vibe. I saw loads of old mates and played a gig with Jeres and Dego and Mary and we were super. AND we had Monster Munch on our rider. It was a very good rider. Cider For Jeres and everything. Plus I had a spiritual experience on top of a fair ground ride with Mary. I could see the sea. I got swanged about at 300 miles an hour and it was awesome. I always loved fairground rides, the nuttier the better. They make me feel very alive. I wish I could fly with every fibre of my being. I think I am supposed to fly. I think it is my destiny. One day my brain and my being will become as fluid as they need to and I will be at one with everything. I can't fucking WAIT.

Still, I amn't one for murky jacuzzi's full of flacid Dirty Sanchez/Carpet Cock, even if they are on top of a red double decker. I left Mary and Crew in that mess at about 3am and went back to Bangor with Buff And Zoe. Dego was eating sweeties in a hotel. Jeres was dreaming in a tent. Zoe was in seventh heaven cos she loves Feeder, and I gave her my AAA pass so she could go meet them. Meet them she did, ecstatic she was. I am to this second bemused at how much joy so feeble a band can in spite, but it was very sweet.

I saw my old man on Sunday. He's bought a house with his lovely lady, and has been tending to his garden. It is not a bad garden at all, I was impressed.

Old people go to bed early though. I sat up and watched Bill Hicks. All Bill Hicks spoke was truth. We need more of his kind (Alex Jones is weirdly reminiscent of Bill Hicks, incidentally). I had weird dreams again, but I don't know of what and why anymore. I haven't room in my waking life for the other. But there will be plenty of time for all that soon enough.

Lonely Blair is still the funniest dude pretending to work in politics today. You hear that one about how the UN need to send in a force to Lebanon to stop them firing missiles at poor Israel, who ain't done nothing save, ur, illegally hold hundreds of Lebanese men, women and children in torture dungeons. Sorry, happy smiley rendition mansions.