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You're lucky. Chances are if your reading this you have a stable connection to the internet, a warm room and maybe even some reasonably nice people within a 100 mile radius. You are in the civilised world. So am I now, but I know what its like to suffer. I have seen washing machines so rusty that my fingers were stained orange for weeks afterwards. I have tasted food so bad that it gives me chronic bowel trouble to this day. I have been spoken to in complete gibberish and beaten when I could not reply in kind. I have been to Wales.
I was told a thousands times, by wrinkly old relatives long since gone, "Beware the Welsh, they won't like you." I was naive. I was young. I saw the best in everyone. University was a fresh start. I was wrong. When I first saw my room I knew something had gone wrong. My airing cupboard at home was bigger and had more demuir but I soon copensated with lesbian pornography and the sweet odour of hemp. Looking around Aberystwyth you would think it was a nice summer resort with a nice beach and lovely pubs. This is true until the winter comes and the rain beats down on your uninsulated windows and seeps onto your new text books. The town becomes a grim, depressing ghetto populated only by pathetic aging goths and the rugby boys that aren't just inbred, they were clearly conceived in some form of mass orgy of sister, father and maybe even old granny. I swear the mullet was dead but in the third world it is all the rage, as is allowing your facial hair to grow to a messy stubble and then spending hours maintaining a look that the homeless get automatically once they consume enough Special Brew. It's actually difficult to distinguish the true homeless people from the chairman of Pantycelyn (Welsh only) Halls of Residence. They both sit outside the bank and shout drunken slurs at people who do barmy things like read books and go to lectures.
People laugh when I say that Wales is Third World but we aren't laughing. I'm away from Wales now but Ric isn't. But he will run away soon and I must return to complete my training. If I dont make it, im taking them all out with me. Remember, Welsh is a language we can all speak. Just drink a bottle of Gin and begin talking about your first kiss. Trust me.
Remember, you are lucky. Now stand up and thank your God that the kettle works, your toaster actually toasts bread and your deep fat fryer...well. Let's not discuss it...
Article by Paul 
