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I haven’t posted in nearly a month, so here’s the recap of a month of Work and/or Play.:

  • 2 x trip to Genova
    Work: Teaching chumps how to not-chump
  • 1 x Kenny Rogers Concert
    Play: So so sooo good. He taught us how to not-chump!
  • 1 x half week chillin with Chritch in NYC
    Play: Three days of drinking, eating, and drop jaw stares as simple school buses. They’re just like the movies!
  • 1 x half week of LA
    Work: Presented some shiz to Nestle USA, they seemed delighted. They also have televisions on every floor showing the world cup! Thoroughly recommend a job with Nestle USA. Coffee wasn’t even bad.
  • 1 x Bon Jovi @ O2 Arena
    Play: TERRIBLE SHIT. So bad I even nearly deleted the Ironic Bon Jovi from my collection. Nearly.

Sum of Total: AWESOME, give or take Bon Jovi. What a chump.


I started this blog with the anticipation of posting my day-by-day discoveries of my new-found hometown  – Gent, Belgium. However since starting the blog in February, I’ve actually only spent *two* full weeks there.

Two. Weeks.

So whilst I have a boat load of Gent based nonsense to write about, the reality of the matter is that I spend nearly every day, night, and weekend in often more interesting cities. Though ironically I spend those days, nights, and weekends, wishing I was back in Gent.


This week: I am in Creully, a delightfully quant French town a few kilometers from the French coast, exactly four hours, thirty six minutes drive from my discussed and unexplored Belgian home.

Creully, through some act of world-war-miracle, managed to stay fairly intact through both world wars, rendering the town significantly more fairy-tale than the majority of cities I have camped up in over the past few years.

The town is home to 1400 people, many of which work at the factory of which I am currently working at, and is specifically famous throughout Normandy as it was not blown up by zee Germans fifty years ago.

I brought to Creully a truck load of work, though also packed my guitar and recording gear with the intention of ignoring said truck load, and writing a few Normandic tunes – this, like my blog, has also been quite neglected.

Instead, I’ve been eating like a crazy man, making the most of the delightful Raclette cheese, an incredibly heavy, melted mess best served with nothing but potatoes. Drink wise, it’s all about Gewürztraminer wine and avoiding Nestlé branded bevredges.

From my dear super-pals I found this chateau for 110 euro a night, where I’ve been living it up in the JUNIOR SUITE of all places, being as la-di-da-formal as I possibly can.  My mastering of the French language has barely passed the “I can not speak French.” status, though I just know that any minute I’ll crack.

With every wheel of Raclette consumed, I believe I am digesting another 20 years of French history (and/or heart disease), so no doubt before the week is through I’ll have changed my name to Jean-Claud and will insist that you stop reading this website in favour of something of the category. is so passé.

I drive back to Gent tomorrow, and then trip out to London on Sunday with Annelies. Then maybe. Just maybe, I’ll be back in Gent for my ever-impossible-to-attend Dutch lesson for Monday.

Ik sprek heel goede Nederlands! See!

Back to Creully. I should post pictures, however the snazzy web 1.9ness of WordPress is making this seamingly simple task a little difficult.



Italians! Everywhere!