Random thoughts...

"I don't regret the things I have done. I just regret the things I didn't do when I had the chance"


They say no regrets and I try not to regret anything. I really do. I try to view things as lessons and then proceed to connect the dots. Why did that happen? Why did that have to happen to get me to where I am now? Linking things helps me to rationalise I guess... helps me to come to terms with the shitty stuff that happens especially. One door closes and all that...

Six degrees of separation is the idea that all people are six, or fewer, social connections away from each other. As a result, a chain of "a friend of a friend" statements can be made to connect any two people in a maximum of six steps. What if this is true of life experiences also? Six steps or less you can trace back to a moment that connected you to this one. Confused? Ok, let me give you an example...

In 2012 I dated M who lived in Manchester. Back then, I did very little travelling alone. I had the package holidays to Greece every year and weekends away with my partner at the time but apart from that, nothing. Seriously, my world was the size of a pin head. Dating M saw me getting on a train to Manchester and back every weekend. for a year. After we broke up, part of my job was to travel to Manchester every week for work...  would I have volunteered for it if I hadn't had already had the experience? Absolutely not!

After that, the sky was the limit! Literally! I took my first trip to America, alone, to meet old friends for the first time. Would I have done that without having to work in an office with a load of strangers and spend the next 4 months of life with them? Fuck no! All those experiences were lessons to teach me how to get to the next step. Call it destiny. Call it fate. I do believe there are always connections in life... whether its six steps or not. Maybe its just human nature to find patterns in things. Like Pareidolia... finding faces in every day objects or Rorschach inkblot, a test to interpret a person’s supposed hidden emotions by finding an image in the ink blot. In theory, the patient projects their innermost thoughts onto the otherwise random image so can this be applied to patterns? I read once that if you constantly find patterns in life, youre a problem solver. I would agree with that assessment about me.

So here we are, lessons not regrets... then suddenly something happens or someone walks into your life that turns everything upside down.

P.S I dont remember writing this... but it was in my drafts so I thought Id post it anyways. 

Its only a game!

"I understand that if any more words come pouring out your cunt mouth, I'm going to have to eat every fucking chicken in this room." - The Hound

Oh the agony! Oh the ecstasy! The game is over and I feel like tossing the table and storming out of the fucking room (much like when I'm losing at Monopoly)

If you haven't figure it out from one of the Hounds most iconic and beautiful quotes, Game of Thrones came to an end last week. In fact, its been exactly one week (at the time of writing this, not publishing) and I find myself already having withdrawal symptoms. I am now watching all the behind the scenes shows and "Thronecast" hosted by my lovely girl crush Sue Perkins just to get my fix.

The final season has divided fans. In fact I haven't seen so much division between members of the public since Trump got elected! But I think that most will agree that it was worth investing almost a decade in. Unless you're me and as usual was late to the party and started watching a mere 3 years ago. It was my colleague, who I loving refer to as "Geek" who introduced me to it, badgering me for months to watch it and promising that I would love it. Before that fateful day where I descended in to the madness of the GoT world, I had of course heard of the show but it wasn't really something I thought would interest me. If there's two things I cant abide by entertainment  wise, its Westerns and Medieval genres. However Geek would not give up, even changing one of my passwords at work to Gameofthrones1. (I will clarify that he was allowed to do that as he was one of the IT guys. There's no GDPR breaches on my watch thank you very much) Eventually I gave in and I'm glad I did. I will be forever grateful for his relentless attempts. I also thought it would be great conversation for when I eventually asked him out on a date.

I actually managed to watch all 6 seasons in 2 weeks (claim to fame?) On a diet of 5 hours a night after work and all weekend with no breaks other than to pee, yes, I binged watched to end all binge watches. I'm just gearing myself up to see how long it takes to watch all 8 seasons at once... should be interesting to say the least.

So I'm not going to dissect the show from beginning to end. I'm not going to bitch about the loose ends that they failed to tie up or character arcs that left me wide eyed, open mouthed and slightly confused. I will confess that I was disappointed with the last season and feel that with the couple of more episodes (they condensed the season to a mere 6!) they could've received a better reaction than they did. from the fans worldwide. I mean, they were never gonna satisfy everyone were they? Everyone had their own ideas and own needs as to who died, where, by who's hand and why? They just needed more time. Hell, in an ideal world they would have taken it into another season and milked it for every penny they could. I wouldn't have minded that at all. Although when they announced that it would take two frickin years for season 8 to be released, I was sure I was gonna get hit by a bus the week before it aired and die without ever seeing what happened. I mean like totally convinced. It would just be my fucking luck.

What do we say to the God of TV?

So what now?

To come, we have prequels which have begun shooting already and of course George R.R Martin has to finish his books. I haven't begun to read them as I rarely read the book before the TV/film adaptation. Quite frankly its just two confusing for my already overcrowded brain to deal with. Dear old George has said however, that the book will not end the way the show did and I'm sure many of his fans past and present will be glad to hear that. Will I read them? I'm not sure. They are by all accounts huge and complicated and I don't want to find myself skipping pages to find a mere hint of a name that I recognise from the show. Despite that I'm sure that Amazon will have jacked up the price since the show became the overwhelming success that it is/was/continues to be. After all, the show may have ended but I'm sure the world will be discussing this wonderful show, this global phenomenon for a long, long time.

"Turns out, far too much has been written about great men and not nearly enough about morons. Doesn't seem right." - Tyrion

Eyes down for a happy ever after...

...six and nine, sixty-nine.

I should be so fucking lucky.

Lets face it, the dating game is just that, a game. A game of numbers. Add the injection of technology into what was already a nightmare and you're seriously fucked. Sometimes literally but hey, just don't expect the coitus to come with a side of commitment. That's only in the expansion pack which is currently out of stock on Amazon.

So finally you decide to take the plunge and sign up for a dating website or app which are nothing more than glorified meat markets. Then you wade your way through the thousands of eligible singles night after night, swiping left so many times that you develop carpal tunnel syndrome (or swiping right if you like to play the odds).

I have a couple of friends who met on a dating site who are now married and have two lovely kids. You hear these stories now and again but question whether they are in fact urban legends invented by a terminal single in the hopes that they can convince themselves that they won't be alone for the rest of their lives and die, only to be discovered mummified in their recliner chair with the remnants of a Weight Watchers meal for one on their lap.

So what's a nice guy/girl like you doing in a place like this? I mean no, really! Where the hell do you go to find someone who isn't going to murder you, stalk you, complain about their ex or even all three?

I took the plunge at the beginning of this year. I signed up for one of these apps. It wasn't my first rodeo as they say. My first time was actually back in 2012 where I met M. The relationship only lasted a year. We used to joke that it was the best £25 we'd ever spent. Now... I wish Id kept the receipt. The second time was a few years after that. I had a couple of dates with one guy. One of them was in Ikea! Hey you might snort but it was actually quite fun and hell, cheap as shit... have you ever been to their restaurant? You can eat as much as you want and still have change from 15 quid. Sadly, there was just no chemistry and it fizzled out. Well actually I went on holiday and I didn't text him and he didn't text me. Shit for all I know, he still thinks were dating! So this time it was honestly more out of boredom and actually more of an experiment. Lets just say, thank fuck I wasn't going into it with any expectations...

I've always believed that if you have to pay for the app/site then you will get more serious daters on there. Hell, just someone who can string a sentence together would have been nice. I like conversation, I don't do small talk; so for me that was the first hurdle for any Prince Charming to clear. Jesus H Christ was I in for a rude awakening! Don't believe me? See below the genuine opening messages that I received (just for clarity, I never message first and no, I haven't spell/grammar checked the messages either. You'll just have to decipher them like I had to) -

hey fancy going out on a date love ring me on my phone number 07******** my email address r********@hotmail.co.uk love you are so beautiful if you are interested in me love you never know know what might happen Im a true gentle man I teat women with the most up most respect so here is my email address r********@hotmail.co.uk love and my mobile number 07******** get in touch if you want a date and a lot of laughter and fun xx

Now don't get me wrong, spelling and grammar aren't the be all and end all of a relationship but COME ON!!!! The one thing I will say about this site... it didn't allow you to copy and paste so daaaaamn if he was typing that to every girl he liked the look of on there then I'll give him a D- for effort. Also, his email address was ridiculous.

NEXT!!!!

Is your middle name Gillette? Because oure the best a man can get. (insert kissy emoji) 

*vomits* NEXT!!!

I need you without sounding desperate, love the fact you are a writer, ever thought of writing a book.

Holy shit! No I hadn't thought of that. I've just been content with writing dirty limericks on bathroom walls all this time (the fact that I mentioned I had a blog and had wrote a book on my profile seems to have escaped him) And noooo not desperate at all NEXT!!!

Well hellooooooo there how are you you well. Hope you dont mind me saying but you look stunning here I double dare you to come say hello lol x x 

3 hours later...

Awwwww come on dont be shy I am not that scary am I lol x

Well actually you were and to be honest, I don't do dares... I always pick truth. NEXT!!!

Hey gorgeous, are getting sun tan to make you more sexy xx

sorry are you getting a sun tan xx

read your profile your my prefect lady xx

No I have a tendency to burst into flames in direct sunlight. NEXT!!!

OMG u excite me so much... my blood pressure has risen and in v much wanting you... mmmm u are just stunning darling... I wont be sleeping soon iv gotta assist my rapid rising (insert tongue and lipstick emoji)

Do I need to call you an ambulance or maybe even a hooker?

So there you go. Just a small sample of my time playing the dating game and these weren't even the worst ones. I truly hope these gentlemen (and I use the term loosely for a couple of them) did indeed go on to find their Mrs Right or even their next stalking victim. I found it absolutely impossible to reply to everyone who messaged me (I did try for the first day at least)  and soon found myself spending most of my time just deleting ridiculous and sometimes scary messages. One guy even found me on Instagram! How the fuck he managed that I will never know. After that, I was ready to jack the whole thing in immediately.

There were some nice guys on there, I actually had some interesting and even fun conversations but none that moved me to take the plunge and meet for a coffee or a burger. Didn't even come close to be honest but I put it down to maybe I just wasn't ready to date again. One thing is for sure, after this last experience, I will choose to die alone and be eaten by my cats than EVER go through that again.

Of course I'm an organ donor! Who wouldn't want a piece of this?!

I've been giving blood as long as I can remember (I have a rare blood type) although I haven't been since I had my gallbladder removed (note to self, stick that on the resolutions list) So I was really shocked when I received a letter, booklet and a consent form advising me that I was a possible match and was I interested in donating bone marrow? Considering the industry I work in, my schedule this time of year is always manic so I popped it on top of the piano and decided Id look at it again at the weekend. However, two days later I received a call. 

"We sent you a letter through about being a bone marrow donor and wondered if you'd had chance to have a read through it yet?" Talk about the hard sell! I had already decided that I would, I mean, I put my name on the register for a fucking reason right? So within a further two days I had two testing kits at my house and had been to the doctors to give blood which I then had to box back up and post to the lab" I hope Royal Mail didn't fucking lose them! Although the woman's face at the Post Office when she asked me what was in the packages was priceless as she began picking them up with only her finger tips. I mean what the fuck bitch?! I didn't just clumsily remove one of my organs with a dessert spoon, wrap it in cling film and decide to catch the last Christmas posting date!

So now I just have to wait for the results and find out if and what they want and how much. I'm kinda excited that I can do this actually. I mean hey! I'm not getting any younger and quite frankly, when it comes to body parts, it might just be slim pickings from here on out. I mean, they ain't gonna want my liver after what I plan to put away over this Christmas period. 

I do plan however, after I've partaken of the usual Christmas gluttony to eat a little more healthier and drop a few pounds. It is needed quite frankly but more than anything, if this all goes ahead, I want to give someone the best bone marrow I can. Yeah yeah, I know, It doesn't make that much of a difference but on the flip side, it will me help with my recovery time also and I often need fucking good reasons to motivate myself to do shit so this is my reason. Someone's got some first class bone marrow coming their way! 

I am also glad that I can actively do something. I had tried to donate my time on Christmas day this year to a charitable organisation or care home but apparently you can't do that without having a official check to make sure you're not a criminal or some kind of sexual deviant (well actually, we all know I am a huge sexual deviant but only in appropriate settings with an consenting adult) and of course, this comes with a handsome fee. Seems they're more than happy to take your cash, just not your time.

So donating body parts it is then! 

People's reactions have been mixed I have to say. One person actually asked me "why?" If that wasn't the stupidest fucking question ever asked since"Was the Lion King based on a true story?" (although, god bless the internet, I'm sure there are far stupider ones) My question is why not? Why aren't you a organ donor? Why don't you give blood? I mean how amazing is it that your body can make something which can save someone's life, which you can give to them with very little effort? Yes, there are a lot of reasons why some people aren't allowed to donate anything; health issues, risky sexual behavior... but if you're healthy and you can answer the 101 questions they ask you with the word "no" then whats stopping you?

"I'm afraid of needles" is a common response. Puhleeze!! I was afraid of needles for many years. I would scream and dart out of the building a quivering, snotty mess at the mere mention of needing a blood test or anesthetic for dental work. You know what I did, I grabbed the bull by the bollocks and went to give blood. I explained that I was petrified but my need to overcome the fear was massive. The nurses were amazing and sympathetic and it went very smoothly to the point now where I even watch (and Instagram) as they stick me with it. So don't come to me with that excuse and by the way, was it Benidorm you got that butterfly tattoo on your shoulder? 

"I don't have the time" is another one I've heard... how much time did you rack you this week watching Coronation Street and Eastenders? What do you think catch up TV is for?!

Next please! 

But hey, all insults aside the decision to do this is a personal one, but an important one to think about. Imagine how you would feel watching a loved one dying and not being able to do shit about it... knowing that there might be someone out there that could help them but they're not registered as a donor. Or if you're one of those people who only loves themselves, let me know how it feels to die a slow painful death because there isn't a match for you. 

Nuff said.  

Spot the difference

Do you come here often? Then you might notice a slight change to the blog.

Change has been on my mind a lot in recent weeks. I am trying to make positive changes in my work and my personal life.

Oh yeah, its going great! Pffft.

After review, I thought the old blog was looking a bit stale. So I have just sat here for the past two hours looking at layouts and themes, changing fonts, colours and backgrounds. 120 whole minutes playing with and I will be frank, the fucking pathetic selection of layouts that Blogger.com offers. (seriously, dude, can we have more selection please?)

So yes, after all that, what do I come up with... FUCKING TRANSPARENCY. You can now see more of the shitty ass background that I chose 8 years ago when I signed up here.

*patting myself on the back for a job well done*

But hey, at least the picture is new right? The last one was at least 5 years old. The new one was taken yesterday. (notice more lines around the eyes and a more weathered, cynical look) Who a I kidding?! There are no lines. That's what filters are for. Can't Photoshop cynical though.

BTW I'm totally recommending (something I never do) Snapseed, photo editing software. Guys, you can do all kindsa of cool effects on there. Ladies, its great for making you look less haggard.

I did however totally amuse myself last night with the Facebook filters. I look great as The Night King, I'll have you know. Not so great as My Little Pony. I'm not usually a fan of those kind of filters. The Snapchat epidemic of dog filters makes me homicidal in fact. Why do people insist on taking a pic on Snapchat with floppy ears and a big nose and then posting it on Instagram or Facebook???

IF I WANTED TO SEE SNAPCHAT FILTER PICS THEN I WOULD HAVE FUCKING SNAPCHAT!!!!

I did have it once actually, waaaay back in the day before it was "cool". All I got sent was dick pics so I removed the app. I'm sorry but some of you guys have some really ugly junk and trust me, if I wanted to see it, I'd just come out and ask. I'm not shy!

But it really does amaze me just how far photography has come. Back when I started (using film and fuck off, I'm not that old) I was constantly frustrated simply by the wait to see what my work looked like. When I got my first digital SLR a couple of years later, I was like a dog with two dicks. Anything that stood still long enough was photographed. It did turn me into a bit of a photo snob though. Photography used to be an elite craft and for many years I thought that using Photoshop was a crime against Kodak. Then came iPhones and filters and everyone thought they were fucking Annie Leibovitz for a time and for a while I just sat back and watched the madness, rarely using my phone or Nikon camera. Now, I'm an Instagram junkie and I am constantly searching for better apps to manipulate my pictures and even come up with brilliance now and again (if I say so myself) with the occasional selfie thrown in for good measure.

I now welcome the revolution and look forward to what's to come.

“Photography is the story I fail to put into words.”
— Destin Sparks

Caring is sharing?

Like and share if... Most people wont copy... Type Amen if... Can one person repost if you care...

Well I hate to break it to you Carol, but no one actually gives a fuck!

You've seen them. WE'VE ALL FUCKING SEEN THEM! And they're done under the guise of hashtag awareness when they're essentially nothing more that the 80's chain letters that left us in constant fear that we would die within seven hours because we hadn't sent it on to seven people.

Don't get me wrong, I know that the people who post these more often than not have their hearts in the right place however most of them are just giant attention whores... "oh look at me, I'm so socially aware. I'm politically awakened and fighting for the injustice in the world". Are ya? Are you really? Or are you just sat behind your phone/keyboard 12 hours a day judging people or murmuring curse words under your breath because the popular bitch from high school who didn't speak to back you then who only added you as a friend to bump her numbers up and never likes anything you post just posted yet another montage of ski holiday pictures and you haven't been able to afford a holiday in 8 years and by extension continues the "hey look at how fabulous my life is" campaign which she so perfectly began 30 years ago. Hey, I don't sit in judgement. I have 4 or 5 people on there from school and constantly question why the fuck I accepted their friend request in the first place. One day I'll pull my finger out of my arse and remove them. I didn't like them in school, I certainly could't give a fuck about what they're doing now.

The fabulous life campaign is for the most part, on my Facebook at least, parents. "I'm so proud of my little boy, he pooped in the potty for the first time" which often accompanies a picture of little Bradley, looking proud as punch with a maniacal grin, stood next to his plastic Thomas the tank engine toilet displaying a giant turd within. Give that boy a gold star, he will go far in life (or maybe not now that the picture has been committed to the internet for all eternity. Please let this kid be President!)

1st day of school pictures, last day of school pictures, graduations from fucking KINDERGARTEN?? COME ON!!!!! When the fuck did that become a thing? Why are we constantly giving prizes for stupid shit? Would you give someone a gold chocolate medal because they managed to cross the road without getting hit by a bus? No! It amounts to the same thing in my eyes. Me managing to get through a work day without telling someone to fuck off and die should deserve an award surely? Oh no wait, that's called being able to keep my job and not end up homeless. MY BAD!

When I see these parents constantly posting praise for their kids achievements, it always makes me ask myself " did you actually say that to your kid first before telling the world or are you going to let them stumble across the post when they're scrolling down their timeline for kitten memes?"  There is nothing wrong with being proud or your kids, your life, your new tattoo but I long for the days when I didn't have to see it all over my Facebook. God bless the "unfollow" option... giving people the illusion that you give a shit about what they're posting, without having to actually give a shit.

"Behold the field in which I grow my fucks. Lay thine eyes upon it and thou shalt see that it is barren" That's what the internet needs, More memes!

I love the meme that circulates every now and again "I'm so glad the internet didn't exist when I was a kid. I did loads of stupid stuff and there's no record of it anywhere". So fucking true. I thank my lucky stars regularly but on the flip side, how much easier would homework have been? Having to traipse down to the library in all weathers was a pain in the arse. Kids just don't know that they're born these days (get off my lawn!)

So yes, you little keyboard activists. You're aware. Praise be! But do you ever wonder exactly what you are achieving? Are you really equipped to deal with someones depressive episodes when they turn up on your doorstep after you posted a status saying "my door is always open and the kettle is always on"? As someone who has helped two close friends through very dark times, a cup of tea and a chat ain't gonna fix shit. If anything, it trivializes the seriousness of depression and suicide in my humble opinion. If you are truly worried about someone then them message them, call them, visit them. Get them the information they need to seek professional help... don't post bullshit on the internet and pat yourself on the back because you've saved a life. You've done nothing.

Typing "Amen" under a picture of a terminally ill child will not heal them. If you feel so strongly about children dying of horrific and cruel diseases then donate some of your hard earned cash to the charities who try to cure said diseases. I'm glad it helps you sleep at night because you typed a 4 letter, one syllable word under a picture on the internet.

Sharing a post proclaiming you hate Cancer... what do you think will happen from that? Cancer isn't gonna cry like a little bitch and leave the world forever. It's not going to text it's friend that the whole world hates it and weep uncontrollably in front of a rom-com with a tub of Ben and Jerry's and never kill anyone ever again.

Why can people not see how ridiculous this is and that at the very least that it is emotional blackmail?! I have a heart but I refuse to re-post this crap. Does that make me a bad person? In my opinion it just solidifies that I'm not a sheep. I have always done what I can to help others, more recently I've stepped it up with paying it forward. I could list them so you can sit there reading this and say to yourself "oh wow, what a good person she is" but I'm not going to because your opinion of me does not matter. I don't do the things I do for praise or thanks. I do it because I like helping people and because it needs to be done.

If you really need the validation in your life that comes from the world seeing that you're fucking Mother Teresa incarnate then post links to actually charities, websites, phone numbers so people can get support with the horrific things afflicting their lives. Or better still, get out there and raise money for organisations that can help people with the shitty stuff that life likes to ass fuck us with.

Oh no! Not another apocalypse!

WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!

AGAIN!!!

HAVEN'T WE DONE THIS BEFORE??

WHO AM I SCREAMING AT???

Yes, once again we are facing an apocalypse. According to the Christian numerologist David Meade, the world will end on 23rd September 2017. (If this is the first time you're hearing about this, I apologise for the late notice. I've been stockpiling food and building my end of the world proof shelter. It's pink and sparkly and furnished by IKEA. Not really. Actually my hamster died and I've been grieving. No, seriously!). So yeah, our little ray of sunshine Dave says it's all over in a couple of days. Not heard of this guy? I'm not surprised. Neither had I until I spotted a random countdown on Facebook and my immediate though was "for fuck sake, not this shit again. I've only just got over the trauma of 2012".

I'm also getting over the flu so could really do without this right now. Real flu, not that pussy ass man shit that goes around. I am actually snotting all over the place, its like a scene from the exorcist (not the one with the crucifix, you kinky bastards). My head feels twice the size it should be and Im sure that I am growing an extra appendage out of my spine but yet here I am attempting to entertain you. Well at least until the night nurse kicks in.

Anyways, David Meade is a conspiracy theorist basically and he wrote a book called Planet X – The 2017 Arrival where he claimed Nibiru (sounds like a dodgy curry) would crash into Earth in October. BUT THEN moved the date forward by a few weeks. (How fucking convenient!) Despite his claims, very little is known about this man "for security reasons" he claims. He calls himself a "Christian numerologist”, apparently a specialist in his field. I'm assuming that you can Google map this particular field because there is no such thing as Christian numerology. He made it up! That's like me saying I'm a specialist in the field of therapy for those afflicted by Starbucks getting their name wrong on their order. OH THE HORROR!

His predictions are based on... *drum roll*... wait for it.... THE BIBLE! Isaiah, Chapter 13 9-10 to be precise which reads - “See, the Day of the Lord is coming – a cruel day, with wrath and fierce anger – to make the land desolate and destroy the sinners within it. The Stars of Heaven and their constellations will not show their light. The rising Sun will be darkened and the Moon will not give its light.”

So if you haven't guessed Nibiru is a planet which is somewhere in our universe that can seemingly move from solar system to solar system without detection coz no fucker has seen it, not even NASA and if it did exist we would be flying around our solar system like a toddler on Red Bull pushing a mini shopping trolley around Toys R Us because Nibiru's gravity alone would destabilize the orbits of planets closet to the sun. (That's Mercury, Venus and Earth in case you were wondering) But yet it must be real because it was first mentioned in 1976 in yet another book (fucking writers have a lot to answer for. Oh wait! Nevermind) called The 12th Planet by author Zecharia Sitchin. Sitchin believed the planet is home to ancient aliens who he claimed created the human race.

So not only is our Dave buying into 2,000-year-old prophecy written in a book from stories passed down through generations and various languages whilst adding a planet and some aliens who were dreamed up by a guy who possibly dropped too much acid in the 70's. Seems legit.

But it isn't what you think. The world isn't gonna explode. We're all not going to die in a fiery hell. (although, some of us might be spending eternity there) September 23rd will mark the beginning of the end. It will mark the start of 7 years of death and destruction as the gravitational force of Nibiru knocks us of our polar axis and so begin  the tsunamis, earthquakes, hurricanes, dogs and cats living together... mass hysteria! (who ya gonna call?!)  Forgive me, but isn't that just global warming? But don't forget the righteous ones! They are to be taken to heaven in droves to be spared the end of days because they went to church every Sunday and put a fiver on the collection plate without taking change.

I have no doubt in my mind that I will be one of those left behind. Not because I'm a bad person but because I don't think my brand of dark, twisted humour would be appreciated upstairs. It'd be better placed in the hot basement, reclaiming my right to the fiery throne. But if I am left behind... whoo hoo! Party time! And when this all turns out to be bullshit, I will be wearing my new "I survived ANOTHER apocalypse" t-shirt.

So don't go all Carpe diem just yet. This might not be the time to stop paying your credit card and rent and jetting off to some island in the Caribbean. We might have a few more years yet before we really need to start organising the parties and orgies. But maybe it is time to start seizing the day a little more. Seize the little things, seeing family more (if you can stand to be around them), working a little bit less, not watching the scales so much (it isn't the end of the world because you gained 3lbs. Literally) and hey who knows, you might get hit by a the number 47 bus tomorrow and miss the apocalypse altogether! It really is a shame that more of us don't or cant live our lives every day as if it was the end of the world because in fact, it could be.

However, one thing Dave has secured by his theories and all this hoopla... hes probably gonna be the most Googled person in the next couple of months. Well unless Beyonce announces that shes knocked up again.

16 years later...

9/11/2001... (if you're American and weirdly write the date backwards) The day that changed America. The day that changed the world. No matter what your political views, no matter what your religion, no matter what your theory is about what went down that day it is difficult to deny that fact. It changed so much and not necessarily for the better.

For me, it changed my sense of security. For the first time in my life I was truly terrified. The first time a plane flew over my head a few weeks after that day my body ran cold. I was anxious to leave the house and go into tall buildings or buildings with large crowds of people in them. I was scared for me. I was scared for my family.

I have my own little ritual every year to remember those who died that day. Whilst I didn't know anyone personally, I have some good friends who lost family members and friends in the towers. Every time I visit New York, I go and pay my respects and I wear a piece of jewelry around my neck every day which I bought at the memorial the first time I ever visited. Its a beautiful piece inscribed in Latin, "No day shall erase you from the memory of time".

I remember there being a big hoohah about this particular quote at the time. The text is taken from Virgil's Aeneid and refers to Nisus and Euryalus, two warrior-lovers who slaughtered the enemy and in turn are killed and have their heads impaled on spears. So when the quote was to be mounted on the wall of the memorial museum in 2014, a professor from some Californian University that you've probably never heard of (I'm talking about both her and the uni) who obviously has far too much time on their hands claimed it was shockingly inappropriate and argued that the quote could be interpreted more towards the terrorists than the victims of 9/11. Blah blah blah, can we just agree that it is a beautiful and fitting quote? If they'd wanted to mount salvaged steal in 15 inch letters on the wall with an amusing but inappropriate knock knock joke or a dirty limerick then that would've been in poor taste but jeez... get over yourself and go back to reading The Odyssey will ya?! NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR OPINION!

But I digress...

So why? Why do we remember?

Why every year do we peel off the scab, reopening the wounds? Reading the names at the memorial in NY and several other gatherings around the US? Why do they show the same documentaries so we can witness and relive the terror and devastation once more?

Is it because it was so horrific, so traumatizing for the people who experienced it first hand and on a similar level for the rest of the world viewing it through their TVs?  Is it because we owe it to those who died that day and those who have fallen since because of that day, to keep their memories, their acts of braveness, kindness and love in its purest form, alive?

The answer is yes. All of the above and so much more. We should never forget. In a few generations time, the event may be simply confined to the history books in a musty old library or to be taught in schools to a room full of kids who really don't give a shit and will probably fail their history exam anyways but until then we should remember, remember til our dying day.

The whole world was asleep that day and we received a huge fucking wake up call. We were all sleeping and we must never go back to sleep again. The moment we do, we take the chance that we will experience another atrocity which will rival or indeed equal September 11th 2001 and I for one pray to the powers that be that I never get to witness anything like that again in my lifetime.

Testing, testing... is this thing on?

Yes, it has been a long time since I last blogged.

I'VE BEEN BUSY! GET OVER IT!

Nobody reads this shite anyways but I guess I'm back for a bit til I'm distracted again by this shiny thing we call life.

In the lift, no one can hear you scream!

My more avid readers may remember (or a few blogs back), I talked about being published... After nearly 2 years, I FINALLY got confirmation that the article that I wrote on behalf of my company for a certain publication, would not be published after all. The whole project was scrapped.

I am gutted!

So here it is, in all its glory. (the company I work for has been taken out on the first line due to privacy) Enjoy!

How many ****** employees can you fit in a lift? Well on this occasion the answer is one. Sadly it wasn’t just a case of fitting; it was a case of being stuck. On this particular day, the lift just didn’t want to let me go. Working in a sixteen floor building has its difficulties at the best of times such as the lift stopping on every floor as people get in and out or the lift not coming at all because people on the floors above and below are you getting in and out. Sometimes it’s like waiting for a bus; you can be there for an eternity and three show up at once.

It was a rare occasion that I left the office on time that day, yes this would be the day when I didn’t have to run to Piccadilly station and board the train a red faced, sweaty mess. I was feeling pretty good. Inboxes were empty, pending less than five and the internal inquiries, were up to date. Turning on my iPod and listening to Lady Gaga I hit the red, down button and waited. The gods were smiling on me because *ping*, the lift showed up immediately and I walked inside it. We all know how a lift works, you press number of the floor you wish to go to, the doors close and off you go right? Wrong! The doors did close however, the lift jerked and nothing, bearing in mind I was lost in a world of music and thoughts of the Chinese food I was going to order once I was home. I don’t think I noticed that I hadn’t moved for at least a minute, maybe even two. I pulled my ear phones out, confused.

Silence! Why does the display still say 11th floor? I immediately hit the ground floor button again *jerk* followed by the very calming lift lady voice said "11th floor". Wash rinse repeat... still nothing. I wasn’t moving an inch. I began hitting the ground button repeatedly in frustration. So the display still showed that I was on the 11th floor. I’ll just open the doors and get out then right? Yeah, the gods weren’t smiling on me anymore. The doors refused to budge. Oh what I wouldn’t have given for a crow bar at the very moment. I looked at my phone for the time.

3.36pm

I’d only been in here for 6 minutes? It felt like longer. Could I still make my train? Of course I could! It didn’t come for another twenty one minutes. The sense of defiance that had shrouded me so quickly was just as swiftly followed by panic. Of course I was going to miss it; it comes in TWENTY ONE MINUTES!!!!!

A nervous laugh escaped my lips as the gravity of the situation began to dawn on me. Images of the opening scene of the film Speed flashed through my mind and I was convinced any minute now either the floor was going to have a hole blown in it or Keanu Reeves was going to shimmy down the lift shaft upside down and save me. Either that or no one would know I was in here and I’d be stuck in the building ‘til morning. I quickly did a mental check of any supplies I had on me. A bottle of water, a pack of chewing gum and half a packet of sugar snap peas. Maybe not enough to survive a zombie apocalypse but I was sure they would get me through the night. You may scoff at my thoughts but it’s amazing what goes through your mind at a time like that.

 3.39pm

I spied the yellow button with the bell on it, otherwise known as the alarm button. I wasn’t quite sure why I hadn’t hit it before. Maybe it’s just that good old British stiff upper lip? Heaven forbid I might make a scene. I wasn’t really stuck in the lift! I honestly still believed right up until that point that it was something I was doing wrong. I wasn’t hitting the right button or pressing it correctly. Maybe I was pressing it too hard? Oh just press the alarm button will ya?

I expected a bell, I really did. Talk about false advertising! It was more like a car horn and not as loud as expected. Was anyone even going to hear this pathetic excuse for a noise? Apparently not because after five minutes of pressing it enough but not excessively, again, not wanting to annoy anyone by my obvious need for attention, still no one came to my aid. I pressed it once more and mentally scolded myself for pressing it a little too long. I had decided that this would be the last time I did. The sound was beginning to annoy me.

Silence and then the lights went out. Just wonderful!

I sat on the floor making sure that my new boots didn’t touch it. My coat I could wash, my boots I could not and they were new and my latest pride and joy. The floor was particularly grubby as it would be. I made a mental calculation of how many people would actually use this lift in a day, then a month and just as I strained my brain to calculate the yearly foot traffic a voice from the heavens spoke to me.

"Are you ok?"

My immediate reaction was one of a sarcastic comment bordering on hysteria but getting panicked now would help no one and I was already heading towards the title of "girl who got stuck in the lift" I didn’t want to also be the "girl who had a complete mental break down whilst stuck in the lift." I meekly if not a little nervously replied "I’m fine." I tried my hardest to listen to the man who had come to save me, turns out he hadn’t and he was in fact just a messenger and he was just here to relay to me that the man who was going to save was possibly stuck in traffic and would get round to saving me in twenty five minutes. I looked at my phone again.

3.48pm

Yeah, I wasn’t going to be making the train and suddenly I was ok with that. Now the more pressing issue was what on earth was I going to do for twenty five minutes? I grabbed my phone again and checked. Yes!!! I had signal. Yes!!! I had internet. I must Instagram, Facebook and tweet this to everyone I know immediately! The world must know about my ordeal! Ok maybe not, but I did Instagram myself on the floor of the lift as the whole interior is either mirrors or reflective surfaces. It was a great picture even if I do say so myself.

By this point cabin fever was setting in and the prospect of being in here for another twenty minutes was just too much to bear. I dialed one of the managers I work with there. After a three minute conversation consisting of…

"Sibby, I’m stuck in the lift".
"You’re what?"
"I’m stuck in the lift".
"Where?"
"Where do you think? In the lift shaft!"
"Which lift shaft?"
"The one in the building"
"Which building?"
"Our building!!!"

The immediate response was one of hysterical laughter. I then questioned why I phoned this particular manager when I knew he would think the whole situation was ridiculously funny. Listening to him howl down the phone I knew why I phoned him. This was completely funny and I began to laugh myself silly with him. It was then I heard more voices from above including the Sibby’s so I hung up and yelled that I could hear him. It seems I was drawing quite a crowd behind those doors. Oh the shame! Couldn’t they just leave me here until everyone went home? Did anyone else in the building have to witness my humiliation? There suddenly felt like there was a massive stigma attached to being incarcerated in a hanging metal box. I consoled myself that at least it wasn’t a glass one so I wouldn’t be watched like a goldfish in a bowl. At this point I figured I might just as well play a game on my phone.

Just then I heard a scratching sound, then a creak and a slow rumble. Maybe it was my stomach? I was getting hungry; after all I had been in here for a whole thirty one minutes! The lift doors then began to part and a sense of relief washed over me as I saw the first human face in what seemed like an eternity with an almost blinding light behind him, smiling at me, with an almost bemused expression. Was there anyone who didn’t think this was funny? Ok, so he was no Keanu Reeves but at that moment he looked like an angel to me. Suddenly it dawned on me; I was still on the 11th floor!  The stupid lift hadn’t moved an inch, even a quarter of an inch and here was me thinking I was suspended perilously between two floors! Looking past the angel I saw manager Sibby with a huge grin on his face, still laughing, stood next to a concerned looking voice from the heavens who I now know was Ian the Human Resources manager, and beyond them, three of my co-workers looking highly amused.

3.59pm

Looking back to my angel I laughed, “Well you took your bleedin’ time didn’t ya?” I bet he’s heard worse and he was still smiling as he held the doors open for me to leave. I got up off the grubby floor brushing off my coat and checking my boots, relieved to find there wasn’t a mark on them. After Ian ensured I was ok; I playfully hit Sibby on the arm, regretting it instantly as I was going to need him to take a different lift with me so I could leave the building. The idea of getting in alone wasn’t one I was ready to entertain at that moment. Of course he agreed without hesitation but I distinctly heard a low chuckle as we got in and traveled down eleven floors. Exiting the building I breathed a sigh of relief and quickly headed towards my favourite coffee place for a medicinal cappuccino. Ok I had missed my train but I was free!

On Monday, well of course everyone knew about the incident and teased me about it constantly but it only lasted for the day and part of Tuesday and a couple of occasions on Wednesday.

As for the lift, well it’s now working perfectly as far as I know but now when that particular one arrives to take me to my destination, I wait for the next one.

The only thing wrong with religion is the people who follow it...

"je suis Paris...."

See if there's one thing that these middle eastern nut fucks are proving time and time again, is that they may call themselves Muslims, but they are not. They are nothing more that a deranged cult.

"A cult is defined as a system which venerates one particular individual, ideal or object. They can be a select group of fanatics, or a group of misguided outsiders whose ideals have segmented them from the norm. Many cults don’t begin as dangerous sects – and in fact, if asked, those involved with them wouldn’t describe their group as a cult at all. However, many cults have sinister or extreme agendas that are so far outside they norm they become dangerous. This manifests in mass-suicides, brainwashing, extremist behavior, attacks, abductions, extortion and vandalism."

Remind you of anyone?

Look at their bat shit crazy predecessors...

Scientology - nuff said!
The Ku Klux Klan - racist murderers
Branch Davidians - Got themselves shot and blown up. However, the jury is still our whether or not they deserved it.
Moonies - probably dropped way too much acid in the 70's

... they're all deranged!

Just because ISIS they say they're Muslims... I can say I'm a unicorn but it doesn't make it true.

Don't get me wrong, Islam isn't without its problems. Their track record of women's and children's human rights alone is enough to make your skin crawl. However, you can honestly say that about many recognized religions... just look at Catholicism, stories of pedophiles handing out bread and wine on Sundays and touching small boys every other day of the week to name just one. And what is with the no condom thing? (ah, maybe they just want an excess of boys being born. I get it now). Hell, even your good ole Mormon's would still be recognized as a cult if it wasn't for some excellent and no doubt expensive PR work.

But I myself, choose not to judge a group or race of people by the actions of the few. I refuse to brand all Muslims as terrorists. By doing so, you are creating a divide in which ISIS seek to create. I will continue to do so no matter who, no matter what.

Saying that, should we allow tens of thousands of Syrian refugees into our countries? The media will lead you to believe that there are terrorists hidden among them. And you know what? They're probably right! But the terrorists have been gaining entry into our countries since before 9/11, as students, as business men, as tourists.

I am in two minds. I am on the fence. How can we possibly take more people when we already have hungry and homeless that we are unable to take care of? When we have veterans that fought to keep us safe at great cost, have no roof above their heads, no food in their stomachs?

But we cannot not take them. We cant leave them to suffer and die. They are the innocents. They are as innocent as the people who died in Paris on Friday and the numerous people who have died in attacks before them.

So what do we do? I actually don't have an answer or an opinion quite frankly. (shocked?)

All I do know is that this is the time to come together. This is the time for every man woman and child to stand against these absolute fucking retarded scum bags (I,m holding back, can you tell?) It is us against them. End of. It is US against THEM. We are at war.

Anyways... this is just my two cents.

You jump, I jump Jack!

Yes, a quote from one of the biggest movies of all time... Titanic. SPOILER ALERT!!!!

It sinks.

Jack and Rose's story, if you think about it was the epitome of most relationships. There was the flirtatious first meeting, passion, romance, realising that the other person is truly the missing half of your soul, drama, a jealous ex and the whole thing goes to shit because one of you wont share a floating piece of wood which ultimately leaves the other one to freeze to death in ice cold water.

You know Mythbusters did the experiment in San Francisco bay with an exact replica of that board. Jamie Hyneman and Adam Savage managed to bust the myth (kinda) by proving they could both get on the board (after a lot of faffing around) and stay afloat. Ha! Take that Rose you selfish bitch.

Relationships... aren't they supposed to get easier? Honestly, I really cannot be bothered and have loathed immensely the game of dating. Dates to me feel more like job interviews with lousier prospects and the only Christmas bonus on offer is a quick grope in the stationery cupboard. See I had the crazy notion that relationships would get easier as I got older. I'm obviously one sandwich short of a picnic because they really don't. The older you get, the more baggage people seem to have (whether that physical or mental) and there is usually a veritable minefield of problems that ensue. I do not exclude myself either, I'm by no means perfect. Hell I have carry on and excess but I have now learned at the ripe ole age of 36 to leave the whole kit and caboodle in lost luggage.

Maybe this is why we see so many dating shows on television. Reality TV, as my more avid readers will know, is not my thing. There is nothing more mind numbing and infuriating than this genre and the shows that fall in this category. The utter crap these morons spew whilst getting their five minutes of fame. Not to mention their lack of social decency and moral standards. Their fake personalities and "shrink speak" leaves me wanting to stab myself with a spoon. And by shrink speak I mean "I feel that..." and "your words hurt..." whilst quoting verbatim from their copy of Psychology for Dummies".

Sadly the dating shows we have now are all of the above and more. Also the women on those shows act like, well, complete whores to attract the attention of the man they're trying to steal away from the other 25 whores stood in the studio with them. Yes I know that is the nature of the show but puhleeeez! Its embarrassing. And I will clarify because I have said before... the state of "whore" as I see it is not by the amount of people you've slept with. That is between you and your mattress. Whore is the way you conduct yourself. The way you act and unfortunately I have to say sometimes the way you dress. There is a time and place for the public display of breasts and it isn't 9-5 in the office. Although I realise by saying that there will be a great many men wanting to apply for a job where I work.

Wow don't I sound like a old fashioned stick in the mud? Honestly, I'm not.  I am a very proud lady in public and a slut in the bedroom and not afraid to admit it (unless I'm in the company of my good friends who know me well enough not to pay any heed when the subject of sex inevitably creeps into the conversation after a few drinks or late night chat)

Anyways... back to the dating shows... If they are the "lucky" chosen one and end up on a date with this obvious Prince Charming (he cant be that much of a catch if he's on a dating show, can he?), there's more sexual innuendo than a Carry On movie and you're left wondering if they even come good. Half of these guys could sue them for false advertising especially once you see them without the make up on that was so expertly applied with a trowel for the show.

In closing, you could go by the old cliché that "its only as complicated as you make it" and yes, I try and live my life by that but I'm finding more and more that it simply comes down to "I'm too old for this shit"

Ooops, I did it again!

Ok, I know. I suck. I'm despicable.

I said I would be here more and I have let you down once more. I apologise profusely and I will accept my punishment (FYI, I like paddles. Just sayin!)

So once again it has been a wickedly busy time. I finally had my surgery and I am now minus an organ. A useless organ but alas, I now feel a void within me that can only be filled by pizza and Chinese food. Or in other words, they finally took out my gallbladder and I feel fantastic. I can eat whatever I want again. The only downside is that I've gained 10lbs.

I also went back to America. TWICE! I went over for 7 days in March then another 10 in August. Obsessed much? Erm YUP! My trips there are always epically amazing. I shall return as soon as my finances allow.

Add to that a busy work schedule, I really haven't had much time to come here and rant and believe me when I say I have had more than a few occasions over the last few months where I've needed a good old venting session.

I have missed you and I promise... PROMISE... I will be back regularly.

I must blog more.
I must blog more.
I must blog more.
I must blog more.
I must blog more.
I must blog more.
I must blog more.
I must blog more.

Punishment fits the crime me thinks...

I must blog more.
I must blog more.
I must blog more.

See you soon.

“I'm not afraid of death; I just don't want to be there when it happens.”

- Woody Allen

I have yet another funeral to attend on Friday. Yes, it seems that I have reached that age where I am attending more funerals than weddings. Quite frankly, Id rather go to a funeral.

I dont do death well. By this I mean, I dont cry hysterically for days or lay in bed for days depressed. Although I have questioned from time to time why. Yes, I do cry eventually. It will hit me a week later, maybe even a month and the tears will fall for a few minutes or maybe even an hour but mostly Im about the stiff upper lip, keep calm and carry on kinda gal.

My first memory of death was my father's mother. She was a marvellous woman if not a little scary at times. I was 10 when she died and I was pulled out of my class at school and told the awful news by my mother as she collected me and took me home. The fearless, untouchable women who once yelled at the chap who owned the local shop because Id complained that my chocolate bar tasted funny and she was convinced the thing had gone off, had had a heart attack and then she was gone. I wasn't quite sure how I should be feeling so I didn't. No one said it was ok to to cry or not ok to cry. By the time I got home and saw just what a state my father was in, I guess I didn't want to be an inconvenient, blubbering mess and my mother had her hands full trying to get him to eat, hell even speak, so I just went to my room and played with my toys as I would any other normal day.

Since then Ive lost a great many family members (we are a rather large family) and my composure and inner serenity sometimes even astounds me. Over the years it has horrified, even offended some but this is just what I do. Two years ago I lost my last surviving grandmother who I was ridiculously close to and still I went to work and just "got on with it." The company offered me time off, which I declined. They just couldn't understand why I didn't wanna go home for a few days. Actually it got bloody annoying being asked all the time "Are you ok?" Even now, I don't feel sad when I think of her. To me she is still in her chair, in the corner of her living room playing bingo on her laptop and complaining about that TV chef (Ainsley Harriott) who touches the food with his fingers too much.

Maybe you could say that I choose to privately grieve or even that words are my tears. I have always had a diary or some kind of blog for my adolescent and adult life and I always feel it is respectful to document in some way shape or form, the person's passing. Even if you cant find the words yourself, the internet is a wonderful thing and you can easily find a poem or a quote that touches you and that you can share.

So these are my tears Uncle Ernie. These are shed here for you.

Sticks and stones...

Kids can be cruel. We all know this. Hell I'm sure everyone has a story from their childhood of naming calling or a physical altercation with another kid. I know I do. For a brief period in my childhood I was bullied.

More, now than ever we see the stories on the news of children who have chosen suicide as their only option to end their suffering and every time their stories break my heart. I read one today about Cora Delille, 15 year old girl from Ohio that did the very same thing. She believed that her only way out was to end her own life.

There were other factors also, this isn't just a bullying issue. The story reads that she broke up with her boyfriend and her parents were getting a divorce so you have to of course take these into account but what the hell is happening to our children? What turns my stomach the most that even after this poor girl had died, they still continued their attacks on her. Posting comments about her in various internet forums. If a guy can make a joke about an airport being blown up on Twitter and face criminal charges then why aren't these little bastards being dragged to a police station. Even if nothing comes of it, a short sharp shock might do them good and make them think before they post a nasty comment on someone else's Facebook wall or send someone else a disgusting text. They should not be allowed to think that this is acceptable behaviour. What the hell happened to personal responsibility? They should bring back the fucking cane for shit like this.

I see time and time again on Twitter and Facebook, young adults bleating about hard life is and crying about trivial dramas. Most of the time I just want to scream at them "Welcome to the real world cupcake! Fun isn't it? Now a grow a fucking backbone and a thicker skin and stop fucking complaining" Its all too easy to see them as spoilt, whiny little bitches. Its difficult to remember that they live in a very different word to the one we grew up in 20+ years ago. They are constantly bombarded with images and information from a young ages. Most children now can work a computer before they learn how to make a sandwich. Ive lost track of the amount of under 5's Ive met who already have iphones.

Its easy to to sound like old Uncle Bill at a family reunion and say "back in my day..." but I find myself doing it. Back in my day we could switch off. When we went outside to play with our friends. We didn't permanently have a cell phone glued to our hands, we just played. Our brains got that down time from TV and learning at school and we used them more creatively. We used our imaginations, we had sword fights with sticks, we built forts and tree houses... Hey, I'm not saying that kids didn't kill themselves back then... I know for a fact they did but I would challenge anyone who disagrees that there isn't a link between the amount of information we now take in daily and the state of our mental health. 

Last year a study was done into how Facebook causes depression (no this is not me doing my usual FB bashing) I'm not normally one to listen to the various studies that are released what seems like every frickin week. One minute they're telling you to eat chocolate, then they're saying that chocolate causes cancer, then they're saying drink more wine, then they're telling you that you'll grow gills if you drink too much... bleh... come on! Why don't we just stop breathing? What will that do? Were all gonna die eventually anyways so I will eat as much chocolate as I like and drink as much wine as I like and then at least Ill be able to swim to America twice a year and it'll save me fucking fortune on flights!!!

But back to the study... They claimed it also caused  the “fear of missing out.” Made people feel inadequate when their friends posted pictures of vacations or had been on a shopping spree or even pictures of their children or as they put it "adorable children." So if you wanna make your friends jealous you cant do it if your kids are ugly? Makes sense I guess. Sorry but I am not one of these people who thinks all children are beautiful but I'm not bitch enough to recoil in terror when I meet you first born for the first time and he/she has a face like Sloth from The Goonies.

Maybe that's it, maybe that is all we need to instill in our children... the age old saying "If you cant say anything nice then don't say anything at all" because it seems that "stick and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me" has failed. 


Read the full story about Cora Delille here -

http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/ohio-teen-penned-suicide-note-reading-thanks-pain-article-1.1799847

Why do today what you can do tomorrow?

I have many faults. Many, many, MANY faults. Who doesn't right? I think the one that annoys me the most about myself is my ability to procrastinate. Oh boy! If it was an Olympic sport, I would get gold every time. Hell, Id even have my own line in sports wear and be endorsing Pepsi. (ew, maybe not)

My avid readers will know that I wrote a book. Yup, lil ole me put pen to paper or rather fingers to keyboard and finally completed my manuscript... 8 YEARS AGO... since then it has been sat on a hard drive. Hey, its no War and Peace but reading through it just recently, I still got a good feeling about it. See up until a few months ago, I had a legitimate reason (or at least I thought it was legitimate) for it just staying where it was, never to be seen by the general public. As I have said before, I have a crippling fear of rejection and I'm convinced that it is a master piece and will not be told different.

Whilst I was working away I was asked by my boss if I would like to write a small article for a small publication. My boss of course didnt know that I write, hell, I wouldnt dare let anyone I work with see the verbal diarrhoea that vomit here for fear of being sacked! I actually question sometimes whether the word is prepared for my insane ramblings... but anyways, it was to be in a blog format, (ding ding ding) a entertaining and humorous story about working away (yup, I can be entertaining and funny) and they needed it by 4.30pm the next day. Nice deadline huh? Good job I work well under pressure!

So that night I set to it, writing the piece about when I was trapped in the lift a couple of weeks previous. (Real story. In the top 10 list of the worst 30 minutes of my life. It actually ranks somewhere in the middle between a blind date I went on and THE worst sex Ive ever had. I will also add that both situations were not on the same day) However, as talented and amazing as I am, I wasnt able to finish it that night so set off uber early the next day and spent 2 hours before work in a Nero coffee shop in the middle of Manchester writing the rest of it and proof reading it until I practically knew it off by heart. Of course being as talented and amazing as I am, (hey, I am. Shut it!) I emailed it over to my boss at 10am that day. I didnt hear anything til the Monday after when curiosity got the better of me and I gave boss a call. I was dying to know what he thought, even if it was going to be practical for the publication. Bear in mind this was the first time Id written a blog piece without saying the word fuck or whore or bastard or any other of the multitude of colourful language that is in my vocabulary and often makes it into my blogs here.

All I can say is, after that phone call I have never smiled so much in my life. I felt like I was 10 years old again and just unwrapped my Barbie dream house on Christmas day.

Not only had my boss read it but the BIG boss had read it also and some of the other managers and they loved it! The question was then asked, "Do you write professionally? Because that article is fantastic" (Let me just say, at that point I was grinning like Id now just unwrapped anatomically correct Ken too. Not the one with the plastic underpants, the one with the asexual plastic bulge) The rest of the day I was beaming which of course attracted some questions and funny looks from my co workers who each took turns reading what Id written and there was no sight more satisfying than watching their faces and hearing their chuckles as they read through it.

Now because I'd name two of my co workers in the article who happened to be present at my incarceration in the lift, (they weren't in there with me, they were outside it) I wanted their permission to be mentioned. I of course didn't know at that point who would be reading it or where it would be published so thought it was just polite to make sure they were ok with it. It was then I saw the human resources manager, who was one of the named and agreed to email him a copy of it so he could see exactly how and when he was mentioned. Well, the next thing I know, he's walking up to me in the office with an expression on his face that I just couldnt fathom. Was he happy? Was he annoyed? My immediate thought was "Fuck! What did I do?"

The first question out of his mouth was "Do you write professionally? Because if you dont then you should do!" He then revealed that he was currently in the process of having his own book published. OMG not only did I get Barbie's dream house and the anatomically correct Ken but I got the pink convertible with the private licence plate too!!!!! Was this like the best day ever?? So when I told him about my book he immediately wanted to read it and urged me to start the ball rolling with the publishing thing.

That was January... what have I done with my book? Erm, ziltch. Its still sat on my computer, although as I said, I have read through it and spell checked it again but yup, its still there... unread... UGH. I disgust myself. Captain Procrastination strikes again. What the hell am I waiting for? Whats stopping me? Shouldnt that day have been proof enough to me that people might just like what Ive written or will I forever let my fear keep me from possible greatness?

I love writing, it is my one true passion. I love that people get pleasure from reading my bizarre and random prattle. I dont for one minute believe that my work can inspire a generation. I highly doubt that I will be the next Sue Townsend (although she has had a huge influence on me, may she rest in peace) or be as brilliant as J.K Rowling. I am by no means a master of the English language and when I frequently have brain farts so huge that they could be detected by a richtor scale, I rely heavily on Thesaurus.com But what a dream it is to be able do this every day, to be able to live off my words and so I ask again...

What am I waiting for?

"What a difference a year makes. 8765.81 little hours..."

Ok so its not a year since I last blogged but almost.

First, please let me beg your forgiveness. I know I do have some followers who read my blog religiously but most of them are friends who I have on Facebook who know Im still alive from the crap I spew with daily status updates. I wish I had a good excuse for my absence, I really do but sadly I have none.

My only defence is that is has been an extraordinarily busy year. Health problems have been plaguing me and hopefully will be sorted in the coming weeks but travel occupied most of it. From working away to hopping that great big pond again... its been frantic quite honestly and the outlook is the same for the rest of this year as I plan to hop that pond again in three months time. I promise to try to blog more.

Im not sure why youre still reading this crap anyway but you are.

The problem that I have of course is saying too much. I am fiercely private when it comes to my life and whilst I try to amuse and inform my readers, I dont like to give too much away. I am still as paranoid as ever when it comes to internet security ( Facebook itself goes against every fibre of this but that is how I keep up with my close friends and their worlds so it is a necessary evil) and as Ive said before, when you post on the internet, youre not just telling your friends, youre telling the whole world.

Anyway, its good to see you again, let the ranting begin!!!

English (wo)man in New York

So the angry Brit visited the angry state a few weeks ago. Yup, I finally did it. I visited THE place I've been wanting to go ever since childhood. Growing up on a diet of American sitcoms and cartoons Id been like a dog with a bone for years telling myself that next year would be the year I would finally cross that big pond.

It was actually a spur of the moment decision. Faced with yet another year of longing and having pretty much  zilch to look forward to in 2013, I banged the whole thing on the credit card and thought fuck it!

Over the years with my various internet antics I have met a large group of people who have been a huge part of my life over the last 8 years especially so figured this was a good time to go and possibly get murdered down a dark alley in the middle of Manhattan. I have to say that I'm very disappointed that not one of them were freaks!

Let me say firstly that a week isn't long enough to see and do everything. As a honorary American, I'm not a typical ignorant Brit that assumes that all Americans live in a 10 mile radius and everyone knows each other but I just couldn't get over the size of the place. In my travels over the week I visited the city to do the typical touristy stuff, I stayed on Long Island (aptly named) was in New Jersey at one point, Brooklyn for a very short space of time, Queens which I loved (I know I will get the piss ripped out of me for that one) The Bronx (big shout out to D!) and a few other places I just kinda drove through.

Oh yeah, did you know they drive on the wrong side of the road??? I kept getting in the wrong side of the bloody car which amused my yank friends no end. After 35 years of getting in on the opposite side of the car this became frustrating but funny non the less.

The city, was amazing. I didn't see everything that I wanted to and some places I loved so much I went to several times. I had been warned that it was smelly and dirty and the people were rude but my experience was far from that. The only thing that was smelly and dirty was the bathrooms in Macys. Really Macys I expected more from you!!! Grotty just isn't the word. And what is the deal with the bathroom stalls across the pond??? The doors have gaps. I felt like I was on show every time I needed to go pee.

I loved it though. Rockefeller Center was everything Id hoped and more. Ok, I didn't get to experience my childhood dream of skating under the huge tree but now good ole NY just doesn't seem that far away so I know I will get to do it eventually. The Empire State Building was fantastic and thank you to my very knowledgeable tour guides (much love to M and F) I learnt a lot about the city that I've probably already forgotten.

Ok so the flying is a bit of a ball ache and I think next time I might just do a direct flight (I flew to Ireland then to JFK) but that huge pond now feels like a puddle although I may need to sell a few of my organs to fund the next trip. Its relatively cheap to eat and do stuff but I bought a lot of souvenirs.

I could continue. I could list everything I did but I wont bore you any further. I know this blog is a complete departure from my usual blogs but I wanted to note it.

But before I go and normal programming resumes...

The best thing though were the people. Without the friends I visited it would've just been a trip to the states. With them it was an experience of a lifetime that I will repeat soon.

Watch out New York, the Redcoats are coming again!

Unexpected item in the bagging area!!!

There has been a lot of coverage lately in the news about horse meat found in burgers and other beef products being sold in the UK. People are horrified. Products are being removed from sale and there is just generally a big scandal.

From the news I've read (which includes many sources) I'm beginning to think that someone in those companies knew exactly what they were sending out to the supermarket shelves. I mean come on, some companies will stop at nothing to turn a huge profit. This has been a universal truth since the dawn of time. They do their own fucking tests as well as the FSA (Food Standards Agency) and this wasn't picked up? Just how long has it been going on? Well if you believe some papers, probably years!

But here's a question - Am I the only one that really doest give a fuck about this?

I am more bothered about the shit they put in our food that we don't know about. If they can get away with sticking horse meat into our burgers and frozen lasagnes then what the hell else is in there?

I think the question that isn't being asked and really should be is, where are these horses coming from? Are they cared for properly? Are they slaughtered properly? Are they old horses that have come to the end of their blissful life of trotting round a lush field for the last 10 years or are they animals that were purely reared for their meat?

I mean come on people, you're cramming Burger King and frozen lasagnes down your throat for fuck sake, neither of them have any natural nutritional value, it all has to be added artificially and you're crying coz there's horse meat in them? Well it must've tasted fine or you wouldn't have fucking eaten it!

Horse meat isn't a a bad meat or an illegal meat. The French eat it (ok, maybe not the best example coz the French people I know personally will eat anything!) but it is a recognised food substance. I mean come on, really, are you just getting pissy coz horses are cute and you ride them at fairs and watched too much black beauty as a kid?

The same shit happened with rabbit. Rabbit was a very huge part of the staple diet here in England at one time and I'm sure that was true of the rest of the world. Rabbit is a great meat, its low fat and it pretty much takes care of itself as an animal. They're wild and they breed like, well, rabbits! There is always tons of the little fuckers about. But suddenly they become pets and appear on Easter cards and now no one will eat them. Personally I blame Bugs Bunny. (I would've had no problem eating him, annoying little shit)

For me all this argument should be about is the safety of the meat used and the welfare of the animal. Period. Besides, come the zombie apocalypse, we will all be eating rat burgers eventually anyways.

Its The End Of The World As We Know It... and I feel fine!

Everyone is talking about it... cant get away from it and if the Mayans were here right now, they would be laughing their sick fucking asses off.

End of the world on December 21st 2012? Yeah, whatever!

The way I see it, I cant lose! By writing this blog and and saying, "fuck you Mayans, it ain't happening" I will look like a fucking genius when Friday is here and gone and everything is the way it should be. And Hell, if somehow the world suddenly ceases to be and everyone dies a fiery hellish death then this blog ceases to be too and so there's no way in hell  anyone can point the finger and rant in my face "ha ha you were wrong!"

See? Win, win!

Don't get me wrong, I can see the other side. I can see why all these*coughs*  freaks *coughs* excuse me... extremely prepared people have built bunkers and stockpiled food, water and ammo. Shit, you don't have to be facing and impending apocalypse to be prepared for every eventuality. That stuff (well except the ammo) will come in handy whether there's a hurricane warning or even a simple power cut.

The Mormons are very big on this kinda thing (yep, I used to be a Mormon) We had seminars when I was with the church on the best way to stock pile food and various other essential items, how to store them, how to rotate them and how much you should have stored at any one time in case of natural disasters or like I said, just losing power. I actually made a joke once at one of these seminars. I leaned into the woman next to me and said "well I feel secure in the knowledge that should a comet come hurtling towards the earth that I will die with 365 tins of beans under my bed". She wasn't amused.

So yeah, I ain't buying it I'm afraid. Some ancient civilisation has predicted the end is nigh. We here's a news flash, so have lots of other people since the Mayans died out and they were wrong too. And anyway, if they were some kind of precognitive geniuses, surely they would of been able to stop their own demise, right?

See, its like anything else that has been passed down through generations, mentioning no names *coughs* the biblical text *coughs* It has been translated into another language and open to interpretation so there is definitely massive room for error. Hell, most people cant order a drink in another language without ending up with a plate of fish so can we really trust what has been interpreted up to now? Of course we cant. I'm sorry, I don't care how many years you have studied this ancient and DEAD language (the original language is dead  at least, I believe there are some descendant and hybrids of the language that still exist). Unless it is your native tongue then frankly you can kiss my arse.

One thing we can learn from the Mayans however, now don't quote me on this but I believe that they died out due to lack of food in their over sized population and climate change also had a huge influence to the point where human life could no longer be sustained. Hmmn sound familiar? Perhaps we should concentrate and learn more from what they did rather than what they said!

On a side note, I better go see my doctor and get that cough checked, wouldn't wanna be stuck in bed all week and miss the end of the world!