Daniel Wellington sent me a watch to review! What da What? - A crystal story.

There comes a time in every bloggers life when they blow... This is a lie. Most of you idiots should quit while you're ahead, and leave it to us madmen. Seriously, I don't want to read about how your reconnection with your African history has led you to disturb your ancestors peacefully resting in the after life, or look at pictures of you in some outfit that you really shouldn't be caught dead in.

I've done it again. I've literally buggered the beginning to thy kingdom come and I am not a good enough writer to fix it so I shall make like a goldfish and begin again.

I did not imagine that the good fellows at Daniel Wellington would ever find the good old, very neglected and under loved blog and think, "It'll be fantastic if that chap called Afam gives one of our watches a review." But that's exactly what they did! They emailed me about it, and I actually shat myself. They asked me if they could give me a watch for a review that they wouldn't influence. My eyes turned to dollar signs immediately. The plan was to pick the most expensive one, bang off a truly atrocious excuse of an article, and put the darned thing on Ebay. You know what they say don't you, "a watch may last forever but cash money is the king of all possessions."

I just made that up. Nobody says that. I apologise. It's 2am and the mosquitoes are making a meal out of me. Empathise with a brother.

When I got the watch, I realised that I didn't actually know how to review a watch. The only thing I had to say was that it told the time with fairly decent accuracy. So I decided to document my first day with it, doing all the things that I tend to do on a normal day.



I was sitting with the dogs when the watch appeared out of thin air at midday. They say that this is what happens when Santa drinks too much eggnog and passes out on a stranger's couch. It was so fresh and clean that all we could do was stare. That's what you do when something looks like a million bucks and it doesn't cost nearly that much. As for why Poopy 3 looks like he wants to become one with it, I have a few theories.

• Poopy 3 thinks he's an swarovski crystal not a living breathing pooping responsibility. 
• Poopy 3's sexual frustrations have uncorrected his head. Poopy 1 (the purple poodle) is distinctly out of his league. She's infatuated with Poopy 2, the tall dark handsome dog over there. 

Either way, I was not prepared to deal with him so I went swimming with some dolphins in the ocean. 
 
The stainless steel watch did quite well in the water. It's good old water resistant self didn't let a drop of water in, and it didn't get misty or anything. The dolphins were thrilled to have it grace their nostrils. They liked it so much that I lent to them for a hot minute. It was at that very moment that I thought, "Daniel Wellington, so cool that even the dolphins want a time piece."

I couldn't let them have it for too long though. I may be the 2013 male recreational swimmer of the year at the University of Manchester but I'm not nearly good enough to chasing after all the fish that swim in the sea. I extricated myself from that potentially troublesome situation and went home to treat the pets to some piano forte.

My masterful rendition of the insanely difficult, "twinkle twinkle little star" was so exquisite that even I was moved by it. My heron like piano playing was so moving that I began to question my initial thoughts about the proposition. "You can't possibly put Daniel on Ebay!" I said to myself. "He's met Poopy 1 and 2 and 3. It isn't good to introduce the pups to too many watches. They'll grow up to be degenerates and demons with trust issues."

After I came to that realisation, there wasn't much left to say or do. Daniel and I went on a magic carpet ride on a magic Chinese dragon.



It's a match made only in dreams.

If you like the watch or any watch on their website, I've got a discount code for you: theramblingDW for 15% off. 

Happy Days,
Afam.

Key Notes:

Why am I a clown?

Well, the idea of standing and posing in front of a camera fills me with dread. If something stresses you out, you've got to find a way around it, and that's what I did. Because I thought the pictures I took of me wearing the watch were horrendous, I decided to have my crystal manifestation wear it instead.

Where are all these crystal things from?

In the Afam household, there's a glass table filled with little bits and bobs from all over the world. We went through a crazy swarovski phase back in the noughties. We were buying more crystals with more dedication than a meth addict. Everytime dad went somewhere he'd get something new, and then he'd come back, and we'd argue for hours about where to put it. In my family, we bicker about silly things like that, but it's one of the things about us that I think is sweet.

What's more?

I like the watch. In the beginning I knew that it looked nice, but that wasn't enough. I like the things I wear to come from somewhere and have some meaning. I can tell you a story about everything that I have. Since the Dapper St. Mawes and I have been together, we've been to three countries and suffered and smiled in all of them. We won't be parting anytime soon.