I have been sorting out the To-Sort folders on my machines, it’s a job you can tell is long overdue by the recursive To-Sort folders that have moved from long dead machines to the To-Sort folders of newer machines. In one of these long distant folders I found a photograph, which reminded me of a story. A story I am going to share with you dear Constant Reader because it teaches an important message. “Never bet against Geeks” because they are resourceful and think outside the box.

It was December 2002, University’s had broken up for the Christmas  break and there was a group of us out celebrating seeing each other again after the long semester.

An Important fact to remember is that in 2002 mobile phones were not as common as they are now. Very few people had them, and even less carried them about due to their large size. Oh, and a phone with a camera, that was pure science fiction.

So there we were, several pubs along our way through a pub crawl when someone mentioned that it would be great if we had a photo to remember the night. But who takes a camera out with them on a pub crawl?

We had no chance right?

Well that’s what the majority of the group decided, and I say majority because there was two of us who decided there must be a way, nothing is impossible right?

So, we were out in the middle of the local town, slightly drunk, with no camera and the need to get a photograph. We had no chance, right? The rest of our group were so positive they even made a small wager. A wager of several drinks was involved. This was their big mistake.

You do not give a geek a puzzle. If you do, you do not tell the geeks its impossible. And if you really do that, you really do not add a wager of beer!!

We had no chance right?

Correct, we did not have “No Chance” we had “Every Chance” for we were geeks. I recalled there was a webcam setup in the window of the local council offices, so if we stood in the area it pointed at we would be in a picture. We just needed someone to go to the webpage and grab a screen shot of the image. This is where my fellow Geek, popped into a phone box, phoned his Uni digs, where he knew one of his room mates would be about to do the necessary.

So we organised a signal, and went to go stand in front of the webcam, While 100 miles away someone sat at their computer and waited for the signal, then did a screen capture, and emailed us the image.

Challenge completed, a photo of the evening was procured. and many free drinks were had.

So, dear Constant Reader never bet against a geek, for as the bible says “The Geek will inherent the earth”

The other night a group of us were discussing where and when we first started drinking, who was involved, and trading stories. Its amazing how the practically harmless under-age drinking that happened when we were young, has been replaced with the more serious situation it is today. I wonder if the youth of today got to drink responsibly at a young age, we would have less binge drinking cases as they get older? “Sorry, off on a tangent there! Normal service will now resume“.

During the conversation I was reminded of the first time I was kicked out of a drinking establishment. I’ve not done bad really, just Three times in total. Once for under-age drinking, once for making a mess in an almost derelict pub, and one other. I thought I would share the story with you dear reader, so sit back, grab a pint and begin.

I was about fifteen years old (possibly sixteen, but I think it was fifteen) and I had been taken to the Wheelwrights Arms in Pen-y-Cae by my sisters boyfriend & friends (It was handy having a much older sister). Now in those days as long as you sat quietly out the way, and made no trouble you tended to get away with drinking as long as no one pointed it out. Unfortunately this day one of the people I was with had recently annoyed the Barmaid (which is never a good idea people, for they supply the holy nectar of booze). So there I was minding my own business when she came over to our group, and informed me I had to finish my drink and leave as I was under-age. Now this was not a problem since I had prepared for this eventuality by calculating a date of birth that made me eighteen (Legal age then).

Me: “What you mean? I’m eighteen!”

Barmaid: “No your not! what’s your birthdate?”

Me: *gave valid birthdate*

Barmaid: “HA! your wrong, that makes you seventeen. You said your birthday was November, its only March so your not eighteen yet! try better next time”

Me: *sigh* “I know my birthdays not til November, at which time I will be nineteen.”

I then made her count up from the year I had given till she got to the current year to prove I was eighteen as i claimed.

Barmaid: “Oh. Sorry, I was sure that was a made up date of birth”

She then walked away. Now all would have been well if she had made it to the bar and got distracted by peoples orders. Only she never made it that far.

Barmaid: *one step* *two steps* *three steps* *pause* *turns angrily* “OI! your fifteen! get out of here now.”

Me: “Come on we’ve already done this”

Barmaid: “Wayne! Your my brothers best friend, your in his class in school, Hell you were at my house watching films with him last night, tell me your eighteen” *there then followed a stream of very interesting language*

And that’s how I first got kicked out of a drinking establishment, and learnt the important lesson that if you wish to drink while under the legal age then pick a pub where the staff do not know you.

Recently it was National Nostalgia Week, and to keep the nostalgia going here’s a photo review of an event that marked the end of an era in North Wales, the closing of the Tiv as a rock venue and leaving north east Wales with no rock clubs at all.

The Last Ever Rock Night at The Tiv!!!!
[Saturday 29th May 1999]

Saturday Night at the Tiv, was the ONLY Rock event in the North East of Wales. But thanks to a new manager who believes Rock is dead, and that STEPS is the be-all and end-all of music, The Saturday Rock Night was replaced with the “Trendy-We-Love-Steps” Night. To mark the end of an era, that had spanned decades, The Tiv had a goodbye to rock party, where all the Rock-Regulars said goodbye with the style only Rockers and Goths can achieve……

I “Pendragon” and Andrew “Ax” decide to go say goodbye to the Tiv’s Rock Night with style. And since this was also the first time we had been out drinking together (and we had known each other for over 4 years) A lot of Alcohol was drunk.. A lot of Moshing was done.. And A lot of Flirting with rock-chicks was done..

I don’t know why the photo shows our hands covered with a strange blood red liquid, and it is a coincidence that the following night we were 100’s of miles away in another part of Wales..

PS: The Doctors say the new manager will be able to walk again soon….

After asking a few discrete questions, Well as discrete as only a drunk bloke can be. Ax discovers Gill is single. And in a drunken moment of inspiration decides to kidnap her, and give her to Me as a present!!

Damn nice of him, don’t you think… And I didn’t get him anything…….

I am totally unaware of Ax’s kidnapping of Gill, or Koopers paralysing shock… Like a kitten with a piece of string I am distracted, but in my case its by Vodka….

I did consider claiming I was drinking coke.. But after a quick survey of my friends opinions, I was shocked to discover that no one would believe me if I said I was Tea-Total…

Listening to my Friends you would swear I was an Alcoholic!!!!

Kooper recovers from his shock, and starts to plan my death..

Just after this look to kill!! over a dozen unlucky people that were in his line of sight fell down dead…..

He still hasn’t forgiven me…

I’m safe… Kooper gets distracted as he is pulled by Dave.

Don’t they make a lovely looking couple??

PS: Is it just me, or does Dave look like a character from the Muppets or some such program, I just cant place which character……

These and other pointless questions will not be answered in this post. It does make you think though, if today is INTERNATIONAL CAPSLOCK DAY, and people celebrate the annoying use of shoutyness in correspondence, is “National Nostalgia Week” such a insane suggestion? But I digress, I know its an uncommon thing for me to go slightly off-topic but that’s what I seem to have done here.

The concept of “National Nostalgia Week” has come about because this week seems to be a collection of things reminding me of days gone by, basically a string of nostalgic memories for bygone days. Let me share a few here for you dear reader.

Nostalgia 1.

Wednesday in the office we were listening to my last.fm stream and it randomly played “Your in the army now” by Status Quo. Now I’ve not heard that song since I was about 15, and it was played almost constantly at the ACF camp I was attending. In fact, a group of us even rewrote the lyrics to be a comedy of events involving people from our battalion.  We even performed the song as part of a show for Christmas that year, it was a good show with staged fights and fake blood the works.  Now I have not thought about my Childhood, or my time spent in the ACF for a very, very, very long time. Its amazing that one song can bring back so many memories.

Nostalgia 2.

Yesterday (Thursday) I was working from home in the afternoon, and chatting to an old friend/X-colleague/Training Partner/Fellow Farmyard torrets sufferer PlanetPete. He recently started his own blog over at ChimonTendo, and had imported all his old LiveJournal posts into the archive, and we were reading the Insanity of the olden days, and trying to work out where such pearls of wisdom as “Beware the fuzzy duck with a mongoose on its back” came from.

Nostalgia 3.

This morning before commuting to work I spotted my eldest nephews car parked on my parents drive so I popped over to say hello. He’s been working night shifts down in London Town for the last few weeks, and I was curious to how he was getting on. During the conversation it was mentioned that he may be working in Ireland next week, so I was joking how he’d probably get to Anglesey and get lost. It was then that my mother said she was worried since he often speaks without thinking so could say the wrong thing over there and get in trouble. I defended him by saying its easy to say the wrong thing, and recalled an incident that happened many years ago on my first visit to Dublin.

I was drinking at the bar in a pub with a friend when this young attractive girl came over and sat in my lap, apparently it was a quicker way to get to the crowded bar. So we started talking while she was getting server, well she started telling me about her collection of studded collars and such she had at home, and it started from there. During the conversation she pointed around the room and said “look at them all getting drunk on a Saturday night, its silly really as we have to confess it all in the morning, it makes you wonder why we do it!” to which I answer without thinking “I don’t know. I’m not a catholic!“.  Have you ever seen a horror film when the people walk into a Inn on a moor and the whole place goes silent and stare at them? Its what happened, everything went silent, people stared, and I’m sure a group of men in the shadows started to put hands under jackets as if reaching for something. Remember the Catholic-Protestant issues they have over there. Luckily I had the sense of mind to follow it up with “I’m Welsh!” at which the noise returned to the pub, and several blokes came over to greet me and point out the Welsh hate the English as much as they do so I was all right.  I then had several hours of drinks and anti-English jokes.

So all in all its been a week of being reminded of my past, who knows what it means, if anything. I will just smile to myself and say to the Verse “Thanks for the memories”.

Last week at a festive board there was a discussion on “kids, and the annoying requests they ask of you” The general opinion of the parents present was that in their days if you had a problem, like you broke down, or ran out of petrol you sorted it out yourself, and did not phone your parents expecting them to help.  My father was one of the strong voices against annoying kids expecting you to go out of your way to help. This conversation was brought back into my mind yesterday. And as a none-parent I want to point out its not just Children/Grandchildren  that are guilty of this.

Yesterday about 7pm I get a call from my mother. Turns out there was family up in the area on a canal boat holiday, and my parents had gone to visit them for a pub lunch. Only after the lunch they decided to travel along the canal for a while to enjoy the day, and my father had always fancied having a go on a canal boat. So at 7 when they decided to call it a day and come home after a day on the canal they realise they are now several miles or more away from where they parked their car.

So pour coffee down sink, take a moment to morn its loss, and jump in car to drive to the middle of nowhere to pick up parents.  I arrive at a small car-park near the canal, its miles from the nearest street light so its dark, cold, and abandoned. I am the only person about, so I phone my father to say I am here, and where are they?. “Oh, we had to move on. We’re a couple miles down the canal. We are just mooring up which should take twenty minutes or so, then we’ll walk the mile or so back to where you are. so just wait there”

Right, so I am to wait in a cold, dark, abandoned car park. And I can’t leave the engine running as I’m a bit low on diesel and probably shouldn’t waste it. Now the smarter amongst you are probably thinking . o (err. they were only guests on the boat, and they knew you were on route to collect them, so why did they not leave the boat at the location you were driving to, and wait for you to arrive?) The answer would be, they did not think of it.

About a half hour later I get a call from my father asking was I still there (like where else would I be?) and informing me they stopped off at a pub, so I should drive to pub to meet them. So it was a case of relocate to pub, (OK I did get a pint for my troubles. Not off my parents but of some random friend of the family who I do not know). Then a quick ten minute trip to go drop them off at their car, before I was able to go home.

PARENTS!!!!!!

Time seems to be flowing a lot faster than normal these days, I swear I only have to blink and several days have flown past. For example I was considering writing this post Monday, I blinked, made myself a cup of Coffee and its now Thursday Friday? Anyway, here goes the actual post :-

Its been a few years now since I have done a “what I did the Weekend” style post. And I’m feeling nostalgic for reasons you will discover by the time you finish reading this post, so here goes for old time sake.

What I did The Weekend.

Saturday.

Got up slightly earlier than I would normally so that I could do the packing I had been putting off all week. Yes I know I should not put things off till the last-last-leaving the door now moment.  I filled up the car with diesel thinking I would need many pit stops (This was 1st time I was doing a long trip in my car, and it is a mid size 4×4), stocked up the car with wine gums and left Wales and its torrential rain. Several miles into my trip I realised a bottle of water would probably have been a good idea as well.

The further I got into England the sunnier & hotter it got until I decided dressing in a black t-shirt was not my cleverest idea. Also, has anyone else noticed that the bit of M6 that runs past Birmingham has had road works on it for about 10 years now? and the only bit finished are the speed cameras, the lanes, signs etc are all unfinished but the speed cameras are all sorted? Also have you noticed how FLAT huge chunks of England are? I mean I drove through miles and miles of just open spaces, What’s wrong with mountains people?

So most of Sat was spent driving to Sussex, Suffolk, err Some place beginning with S. Errrr, where did I go? ::Quick check of emails:: Suffolk. The trip itself was not so bad, apart from towards the end when I was getting into arguments with my SatNav.

SatNav: “In .4 miles turn right“

Me: “No! Shant!“

SatNav: “Turn Right“

Me: “No, not going to, and you cant make me!“

SatNav: “Turn right… Turn right…. Recalculating!”

So I finally arrived at my destination, and noticed that instead of having to stop when almost there to topup my tank, I still had a load of diesel left, meaning my cars not as fuel-thirsty as I suspected.  Then the fun began, I got to meet some friends I have known for 15/16 years but had never gotten around to meeting in real life. (What was I saying about time flying).

It was good to finally meet them, there was chilli, talking, Wii playing, Working out how to inflate Beds, Toy showing, And all round chilling out. And more snacks/drinks options than you could shake a stick at.

Sunday.

This day was mostly taken up with a Hog-Roast, Fish do type thing. In simple terms Loads of Meat & Fish & Strawberries, Nice Ale in wooden casks, and a blazing hot sun. Oh and decent live music. Was a damn fine event!

Then more chilling out, Wii sword fighting, TV Watching. I also saw part of the film “Cars” for the first time, and what I would like to know is. Why are there human sized houses & shops with human sized door when there are no humans? And was this film based on the Stephen King story “Maximum Overdrive”??

Monday

This was a day off work so I could travel home. So I got up early so I could spend time with the people I was staying with before leaving, and packed up ready to leave.  My usual uselessness was countered by my friends who supplied me with fresh baked muffins, packets of crisps, and a bottle of water for the trip back. (and by the time I got home that water was a life saver, Blazing hot sun + black t-shirt + car = HOT)

The trip home seemed to take a hour or two less than the trip there. Mainly since the M6 in the direction I was travelling was not a car park. Also I only needed to stop off for petrol as I was about half way home, and I only did it then because services are far apart on the route I was taking home.

I got home, Made huge fuss of my dog who was feeling abandoned. and crashed out on the sofa watching the shows I had missed over the weekend.

So all in all, I had a great relaxing weekend in the sun, with good company, good food, and a brilliant chance to refresh my batteries.

I was talking to a friend recently, and for some reason I can not recall the conversation drifted to pulling, Helping friends pull, and things you can do. It was one of them weird conversations that just seem to jump from tangent to tangent with not visible pattern.

During this part of the conversation I pointed out that I’d never been any good at being a WingMan. In my mind, I see great ways to help the guy get the person he wants, there’s just some cosmic force that always takes my great plans and twists them slightly so they are doomed to fail. To prove my point I gave the following story as an example, and I’ve decided to share it with you dear reader.

I leaned against the wall enjoying the loud music that was blasting out from the several walls of speakers set about the room. I had a cold beer in my hand, and there was nothing I needed to be doing for a while, so I could take a minute to just enjoy the moment and the beer. An elbow banging into my side interrupted my contemplation of the girl dancing in front of me.  “WOW!” a voice said in time with the elbow. I looked at the guy standing next to me as he pointed across the dance floor to a rather cute goth girl dancing on her own on the opposite side to us. “WOW!” he said again, “Have you ever seen someone so awesome?”

I should really set the scene. It helps with the general idea of what happened, and how it all came about if I explain a few things first. I also think that the possibly high alcohol content in my blood may help my defence. “Well it can’t hurt right?”

University exam season had just finished, and some friends of mine from Aberystwyth Uni were throwing a “end of exams, plus Triple Birthday Party!” Party. My last exam had been early that morning, and I’d shot straight from the exam down to Aberystwyth to help set up the room ready for the party.  We had got the use of a pub’s basement area for the night, It was a large room, with a dance floor, seating area, and chill out area. It was perfect for a student party.

I’d had a couple of cold beers with the DJ, as we set up his equipment, the speakers, and tested it all out. Its thirsty work you know, lugging about all that equipment, running out cables, getting it all set up just right. My main role of the evening was to be door man checking tickets at the start of the evening, then a bit of DJing to give the main DJ a break. (Beer Count: 2 pints during setup)

One of my friends, who was also one of the three people celebrating their birthday at the party had her sixteen year old brother up visiting for the party. It was his first time at such a party, since they came from a small welsh village, and as he’d met me a few times while I’d been visiting his sister, he was spending the evening hanging out with me. This was handy since he was too young to get served, I was getting him a drink in my round, then going to bar with his money for his round. (Beer Count: 5 or 6 pints). A couple of hours into the party, one of the other “Birthday People” and myself decided the ration of “hot girls” to everyone else was a bit on the low side and something needed doing about it. That something was a quick pub crawl around Aberystwyth handing out tickets to every cute, or interesting person we met on the way. (Beer Count: Well and truly unknown) . I’d not long got back to the party, got a round in and was enjoying my drink when my friends brother spotted the to quote “girl of his dreams“.

“She does look interesting. You want to meet her?” I grabbed his shoulder and dragged him with me across the dance floor, ignoring his mumbled objections and the rising tone of panic in his voice. She stopped dancing as I came to a stop in front of her, I introduced myself, my tongue tied companion, and asked her name. Introductions been done, I mentally took a step back and let him make his move. I waited, and waited, and slowly realised I may have to do more work in my self appointed role of WingMan!

‘ok, this is not going well’ I thought, and asked “Drinks?”. “err yes, err its my round I think, errr do you want a drink?” he nervously asked her, ‘YES!’ I shouted in my mind, ‘its a start, he’s offering her a drink’. I quickly asked what everyone wanted, and wandered off to the bar slowly to give them a chance to talk… When I returned with the drinks, they were just standing there not speaking ‘Rats! I need to do something’.

The something I decided to do was to relocate the three of us to some comfortable seats to the side of the dance floor where it was quieter and easier to talk. ‘WOW, that’s a brilliant idea’ I thought to myself in response to the suggestion my mind had just given me to help break the ice. “Hold my drink for a minute will you?” I asked her, “I’ll be right back”. I looked about for the guy I’d done the pub craw with, and wandered over to him. “Hi Dave, You got that purity test on you?”

While we had been on our pub crawl handing out tickets, we had made a side stop at a computer lab and printed out a couple of copies of the 500Q purity test for fun and games at the party. Now my mind’s suggestion had been to grab a copy of the test, and convince the girl to sit it. This should give information of how easy she was, what she had done, what she was willing to do, and create many openings for flirting. “What could go wrong?” What indeed.

A short while later, and she’s sat in between us sitting the test. She is not hiding her answers so its easy to see what she has done, not done, and willing to do. ‘USE IT AS AN OPENING’ I’m shouting in my mind to the lad on the other side of her, ‘YOU ARE MISSING A GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY!!! DO SOMETHING’. I sigh, this is not working, so I try coughing and pointing to her results, I try miming what he should say to her.”So you never done that?” I ask, “Really? never”. I wiggle my eyebrows at him, and point at her with my eyes for him to offer to rectify the situation. ‘SIGH’.

A short time later as she was nearing the final few questions, I grew desperate. His window of opportunity was closing, and getting smaller and smaller. I had to act, and act fast. I leaned across the girl sliding under her arms so I could still see the paper she was using to mark her scores. With my head resting in her lap, I looked up at my friends brother, “You idiot. She’s almost finished and you’re missing your chance” He just growled at me, ‘Humm maybe he didn’t understand me, I’ll try again’ “Look, she’s just marked she’s never done that, its a perfect time to ask her about it, you could even offer to help her rectify the situation” He growled more. “Come one, the point of the purity test is to laugh at those with the highest score, and see how easy people are for the end of the night.” He looked at me with hate in his eyes. “Shit, you really never done that but want to?” I asked her in shock at her latest answer. She just patted me on the head. He muttered and looked away.

It was at that point I decided the situation was not going to get better with any amount of help, so I stopped helping. We laughed and joked about the test, and the questions for a bit. All the while with my friends brother just sulking, then I was called away to cover the music for a while, leaving them alone.  As I was playing some music, I spotted they were just sitting there not talking, then after a while she got up and walked off to dance. And that was the end of that.

Personally I think I created an unbelievable amount of once in a lifetime openings for the lad. But maybe I was wrong, and its truly just another example of my inability to play the role of the WingMan.

I have recently reconnected with some old friends on various Social Networking sites, and we have been catching up and reminding each other of various stories and escapades from the past. I will probably post a few of the more “safe” stories on here at some point.  Until then, and to counter the last post of mine which was political, here is a series of quotes that were recorded at the 1997 Birmingham Spod meet (See I told you I would Post them! I just needed to find the bit of paper).

Basically someone said something that sounded “dodgy” so a pen & paper was found and people started making a list of all the innocent things said that could be taken out of context and sound “iffy”. There was a running count being kept of who was winning.

It’s a really small world you know. Even without the Interweb making it smaller and smaller every year. It used to be said that the “Human Web” covering the world meant that any person on the planet is at most just “Six degrees of Separation” from any other person on the planet.  This was in the early part of the 20th century. These days with the advent of the Interwebs and Social Networking, I believe that number is a lot smaller.

Q: “Why are you muttering about this 6 degrees rubbish?“

A: “Hang on. Give me a minute, I’m getting to the point now. Sheesh! Everyone’s a critic!“

Yesterday I was talking to my Niece (She’s about 12) and she was telling me about one of her mothers cool friends. Someone my Sister met a few years ago while she was running a pub in Wrexham, and became great friends with. So my Niece is telling me some story and says “you don’t know *GirlsName* but she’s great”  When she mentioned the Girls name I blinked, “*GirlsName*? Oh I know her, I’ve known her for many years!” Which made my Niece protest, there was no way I could have known this girl for years, since her mother has only known her for about 2 years.  So I told her a story from my past that she could use to prove I knew the Girl.

Since it brought back happy memories of days gone by, I thought I’d share it here.

It was many many years ago. (Something like 1999/2000, I forget exactly) and I was out on a pub crawl that started in Oswestry and ended up in Wrexham. There was three of us on the Pub Crawl, Myself, Ax & Kooper. We ended up in the “Kings Head”, where we bumped into *GirlsName* and her friend, and had a drink with them. When we got kicked out for making a mess.

I should stop my narration for a moment to point out something to those of you who were unlucky, and never got to drink in the “Kings”. Now this pub was a Dive. You know those pub’s where parents warn their daughters not to drink in? This one they warned their sons away from.  The plaster was falling off the walls, the seats were ripped and broken, everything was covered with layers of old cigarette smoke. And as for the carpets? A girlfriend of mine once kneeled on the floor to pick something up, and got severe ammonia burns on her knee/leg. This place was that bad. On the plus side, it had loads of pool tables guaranteeing you always got a game, the beer was cheep and it only played rock music. I mention this so you can understand the shame I felt for being kicked out “For making a mess”. Now back to the story.

In all the mess of the pub, they had one object of pride and joy. A pool table with purple felt and balls that glowed under the overhead black lights. Now this evening no one was playing on this table, I was sitting on the end of it drink in hand, and *GirlsName* was sat next to me, and we were harmlessly flirting. (A bit tactless of me as two X’s were sat on a table in front of us).

The rest of our group were stood about, when one of the Barstaff noticed someone had spilt their Pint all over the table. We of course all denied anything to do with it, and we would have got away with it as well, only Ax decided to speed up the proof we were innocent by standing in front of the BarStaff and holding up his empty hands said “It cant be us, look I don’t even have a drink!” Which only helped condemn us. Empty pint glass on table, beer everywhere, and a empty handed person standing next to it.  I would not mind but that night he was our designated driver, and not drinking.

So we were kicked out. *GirlsName*’s friend said they really had to leave as *GirlsName* had work early in the morning. So being the Gentlemen we were, We offered to walk them to the Bus station. Which went well at the start. Alas I have a really small boredom threshold. So when we started walking past a road that led to my Second Favourite pub at the time, I grabbed *GirsName* threw her over my shoulder and ran off with her to the Pub to continue drinking.  This action caused her friend to go mad, lots of raised voices, and a deal that we all have another drink, and our designated driver would give them a lift home, so all would be fine.

I’ll end the story there, Since the main two facts. 1)Getting kicked out of the Kings, and 2) Being thrown over my shoulder and kidnapped to a pub, should have been enough to prove to my niece that I’ve known *GirlsName* for many years.

Notes:

Today’s Post Title is from the classic “Purple Haze” by Jimi Hendrix. And was the first Song with Purple in its title that I thought off. The colour Purple plays an important part in all my memories of the aforementioned girl.

*GirlsName* is used because I do not like using Peoples IRL Names without first checking its OK with them.