Day 319 - Thurs 29th November - Skyfall & James Bond

Today was all about Bond. James Bond. I finally went to see Skyfall.

Firstly I think I should share with you a monumental day. I actually worked solidly in an office, for a company between 9am and 4pm without a break. Fuck me what an achievement. I was actually disappointed when I left (to beat the traffic) that I wasn't given a round of applause and pats on the back.

I thought the MD should have given a speech;

"We'd like to thank Nick for doing what nearly everyone else in the world considers stunningly normal in grinding out a full day. He's battled chronic proscratination and sloth to produce this report and learn how to upload crucial news stories on the Joopla Internet software package. he even made everyone a cup of tea. Nicholas Edward Evans. We salute you. Your Grandfather and Uncles who were war heroes would be proud of your dedication to new media software packages. You are a hero. Well done. Please take the rest of the year off."

Why is it that I feel that I should feel ultra proud of myself for doing what most people don't think of as anything other than completely normal? Am I that special and different? I don't think so. It was a proud day in my family and I immediately rang my Mother up to share with her my good news. She sounded underwhelmed. Clearly my thinking is not normal. I must remember to keep it to myself sometimes.

Then I cleared my almost paralysing indecision to go and see Skyfall. I love a bit of Bond (who doesn't) but I wisely left it a few weeks for the crowds to die down so that I have an almost empty cinema to watch it in.

I can spread out then, put my feet up, get popcorn allover the place and really relax. The only thing I didn't do was put my dressing gown on and fiddle with my nuts. I plumped for dry roasted instead (lame joke but it's late)

Bond is pure escapism. Action, adventure, great locations and top costumes. Daniel Craig is a great Bond. When he was first cast i thought 'oh no. Too short and lightweight', but to be fair  he's mean, moody, blue eyes, has got a touch of the Steve McQueens about him, has a fit body, looks good in a suit and supports Liverpool FC. I approve. If I was a girl I reckon I'd want to have it off with him (How long is it since you used that term in the 80's?) - so I'm not frightened to express a bit of man love for him.

Debating who was the best Bond is like debating the best football team. They belong to different eras. Of course no-one remembers Lazenby. The Bond that never was and a fucking Australian for Christ Sake. Connery was the daddy. He may have been a hairy Scottish Binman but he was ultra alpha until he started wearing a wig and then he lost his Bond magic. Nobody wants to see Bond wearing a syrup (Syrup of fig - wig) with more hair on his chest than head. He Loses all respect then.

The Bond of my era when I was growing up was The Roger Moorosaraus. A classic camp as fuck send up of Bond. I loved him. He did Live and let Die which remains my favourite Bond film and was a product of the era. All crimpoline flared suits and polo necks. He coined the whole 'Man camp' look and got to snog Jane Seymour or Solitaire. Christ my spunk sock took a battering over her.

Jaws was a classic but The Moore just went on too long and nobody likes to see a mid fifties Bond creaking his way around a cable car in a Safari Suit trying to bed women half his age. We'll leave that one to Freddie Starr. Though that's quarter his age.

Then Bond hit a dark era. Timothy Dalton had about as much charisma as a runny shit. He was lame and Bond hit the skids in the 80's when Dalton started to wear chinos and patterned jumpers. Bond should never go near a Pringle jumper. He's a fucking suit and slacks man all the way. Dalton fucked it good and proper. He was as Alpha as Graham Norton.

In fact Dalton was so bad he made Brosnan look like a God. He looked the part in a lovely tailored suit but had about as much substance as a detox. He was wooden and lame too. Bond looked old and out of date.

Then along came Jason Bourne and wiped the floor with the format. An uber solid nasty as fuck machine. Modern filming, urban and cool. It required a rethink and Bond changed with The Craig taking over the mantle. He played him cold as ice and as mean as Scottish synagogue. Bond was back.

So to Skyfall. Dubbed the best Bond ever. Well nothing will ever beat Live and let Die for me. The opening track, voodoo magic, Roger Moore in a black polo neck being fed to Sharks, Jaws and Solitaire looking like she'd been on Strictly Come Dancing. Of course i was a kid  so that time will never fade.

Having said that Skyfall is a really good Bond. It's got everything you would expect of a Bond movie with many nods to the past including the Aston Martin and old school values. It's not as heavy on the gimmicks and it attempts to be a proper movie. Obviously Sam Mendes pulled out all the stops and it's a good un. The baddie in it is particularly good. Acting it up and pulling it off nicely. Craig is in good form and looks good. The scenery is stunning and he even gets to kill 3 Chinese dudes in a big Lizard pit at a Casino and then nail the fitty in the shower. Classic bond. I bet he wasn't learning Joopla fucking software packages that night.

So it gets my thumbs up. Accept i couldn't raise my thumbs as they were constantly buried in the mass of popcorn. For £13 a ticket and £5 for popcorn I'm fucked if I'm not going to create the worlds biggest mess and get my monies worth. In fact, fuck the thumbs it gets a toes up from me. They are the only part of my body not buried in popcorn.

If you haven't seen Skyfall yet. Do it. I won''t spoil it for you but basically in a nutshell Bond tries to save M from dying but fails. She dies. End of movie and blog

Night
xx

Day 318 - Weds 28th Nov - Talking Cock

I'm not going to lie, this blog is a filler. It's the blog equivalent to tuna and sweetcorn, egg mayonnaise or chicken & bacon, just not quite as tasty or messy. That's not to say this blog on occasions hasn't been messy. It has.  But we're talking about a whole different mess to that caused by a semi runny sandwich filling.

I have half written an 'Evans Guide to Christmas' but got stuck. Should i do a 'Blokes Guide to Christmas' and 'Evans Guide' or a general one? Should I focus on one element or several? I got confused and the day ran out on me. Hence this 'filler'

It's half finished and besides I had other things to do. Like prospect for work to try and get something called an 'income'. Apparently it helps to earn money so you can do lovely things like eat, live in a house, pay for a phone, congestion charge, parking tickets, gum, fags, debts, insurance, gym membership you rarely use etc etc.

The government says the legal amount an adult can live on in this country is £71 a week. Are they taking the piss? After you've done 20 fags, petrol, gum, diet coke, lunch in Carluccio's, phone, gym, grub, newspapers, Ironman magazine, downloaded a few songs from ITunes, rented a couple of movies from Blockbuster, got a couple of coffees from Costa, bought a new cardigan from TK Max and paid for membership to Serbian Sluts chatline you haven't got much change out of £100. That;s not even adding bills, rent, insurance, loan repayments and savings. The Government should raise the legal living allowance to £711 a week. The JSA would be far more appealing then.

Headline news today? It's St Andrews day. Who cares I'm Welsh. Other than to say i ran a Scottish Rugby club in London for 6 years and really enjoyed wearing a black kilt, thought the rugger buggers called it a skirt. I never went commando as there is nothing worse then having your old chap exposed to an audience of 1000. If i was hung like a horse then I'd have done it all time. But when your  'average' then you have to play safe.

That's a thought. What is the average cock size? Obviously blokes get a little hung up (no pun intended) on chap size. Is the average 6 inches? If so then thank god I'm slightly over that (Too much information). Anything under and you're going to have to get a big car or earn a shit load of money to compensate. Small cock syndrome essentially drives this country.

It's a well known fact that all men of power over the years have had small cock syndrome. Lets face it if you have a beast between your legs you don't have to try or put any effort in do you? You have nothing to prove. Churchill? More like Chipolata. Hitler. He had one the size of his moustache. Mussolini? He had a longer name than dick. The list goes on.

Girls say 'It's not how big it is it's how you use it'. Yeah right. If you're hung like a flea no matter what you do there;s always going to be something lacking. A little like lesbianism or Liverpool FC. Pretty but lacking oomph.

Then again many girls say hung blokes are lazy and think that's enough. WRONG again. Girls like a guy to put a bit of effort into their love making. Like turning off the TV for instance. Most guys seem to think that  a slap to the arse during sex is what all women dream of. Not sure why i guess it's something to do with young exposure to porn,

This is dangerous as boys grow into men thinking the way to make love to a woman is to slap her and say 'who's the daddy'. Obviously in post Jimmy Saville times this has taken on a rather nauseating turn.

On the other hand blokes grow up thinking girls love sex and want to be slapped. Blokes think the words 'harder, harder' are poetic.  Again this is a popular misconception. Try it out on your girlfriend tonight and let me know how hard she slapped you in the face.

I'm not sure why I went from Tuna filling sandwich to deepthroat. That was a weird journey.

Back to today, I worked in the morning, early afternoon and retired home mid afternoon. Watched Ted whilst cycling which was funny and out of order which I love and then spent the evening trying to write

Looks like my Bikram Yoga article has now been read by over 1000 people and earned me a few quid, so I'm happy about that and things are OK for today.

Apologies about being gross and talking cock. It just came out. At least that's my excuse, though the judge never accepted that as a reasonable explanation.

xx

Day 317 - Tues 27th Nov - Working : Home v Office

Britain is drowning. The 4th consecutive day of heavy rain, or in technical terms, "pissing down", saw most of the country on flood alert or 'Dangerous Weather' warnings. Many people's homes have been flooded and Insurance companies are stonewalling on paying out for the damage. The reason?  It's a well known fact that all Insurance companies are cunts. Happy to charge sky high premiums on things but ultra slow to pay out. #Insurancewankers

There is good news on the horizon for those poor sods affected. Our Prime Minister, The Cameron, He who looks like the ultimate Insurance salesman, (I.E a massive cunt) has vowed to personally step in and sort out the insurance companies. Er, really Mr Prime Minister? And what will that entail? Staying up late going through Go Compare.com to find the best deals? The man will stop at nothing for cheap PR. Talk about jumping on the bandwagon.

Anyway I'll leave that for more clever people of Private Eye or Have I got News For You, even though that show is more tired than an wrinkly old whore. See Wayne Rooney for details.

Today was a reasonably productive day. It was spent at an office I was kindly offered the use of for a couple of days a week. Squatting at a desk in a busy office to help try to launch a business i have been involved in part time for a couple of years. At the moment it's unpaid but if it can be whipped into shape it may become a job. If it doesn't I'm going to have to get a proper one. One that pays money and everything. Either that or become a wrinkly old whore. Insert Joke here please. Though some say I am one already.

I've been messing around with this for a while, trying to do work from home but found myself so easily distracted and hard to get motivated. It made me think of what people prefer. Working : Home or Office?

Clearly I'd rather not work at all. The prospect of doing nothing most of the time is appealing, though even that gets soul destroying after a while. So if you are working, no matter what you do, though clearly if you are a footballer, Musician, Designer, Driver, Miner you won't really need an office. But the question for me today was- Is it best to work from home or go to a work environment?

I respect anyone who works from home and actually manages to do anything. There are so many distractions and a world class procrastinator doesn't need much of an excuse.

Firstly you have daytime TV. I'm not much of a fan but it's like Junk food. Shit but addictive. The Wright Stuff, Homes Under the Hammer, Flog it!, Cash In the Attic, This Morning, then of course in the afternoon The Sweeney, Professionals & Minder on ITV4, endless cookery shows, Dickinson's Real Deal, 24 hour rolling news channels to keep us up to speed on the floods and Sky Sports News which is like a slow lobotomy.

Then of course there is yoga, running, gym, cycling, AA meetings. Pornography, Facebook, social media and before you know it, it's dark, it's 5pm and well, it's the end of the working day. It's all over you've spunked another day.

If you're not careful days can turn into weeks and you've got fuck all done. I'm pretty sure Richard Branson doesn't watch Flog It! That maybe the reason I'm around £756million less well off than him. Time for a rethink.

Today I toddled off to this company, to a place full of people I didn't know, perched on a desk for a few hours and fired off a report that would have taken me 12 weeks at home. Going to a work environment works Goddammit.

OK, if I had to work in an office 5 days a week. 8 until 5 for 30 years I reckon I would kill myself. There are negatives to an office. Namely 'people' and that horrific deafening silence of people feeling their life slip away. But you need a base if you want to run a business and for me i need a 'working enviroment'. As well as that being on your own for long periods of time can make one go insane. I'm my own worst enemy on occasions and listening to my head is like having a conversation with a lunatic. Sometimes a place of work gives you a focus and drive you wouldn't get on your own.

My home is not big enough for a 'work space'. My work space at home is my kitchen table, though I associate that with writing my blog, watching filth and drinking tea. Work is the last thing i want to do. So going to an office or work space with other people and energy is good for me. Clearly I'd prefer one with swish architecture and loads of fit women. but beggars can't be choosers. Focus on the business Nicholas. Shocking isn't it? I can actually graft. When there are no distractions I actually can work like a little Trojan. It felt good and rewarding even if the report was shite and like a 6 year old's. Definitely Room for improvement.

All that is needed now is some investment, some luck and some orders and things will be looking up. Tomorrow i am at a Business Acceleration course at Surrey University to help this little Divy learn how to write proper business plans, reports, business structuring and future sales. I have pretty much always worked for someone else. If I'm honest I found it easier. Turn up and do what you're contracted to do. When it's for yourself I lapse into laziness and bewilderment. 'What do i do next', 'where do i start'. I get a little overwhelmed and lack focus. Perhaps i need to find a business sponsor to help. Hopefully this may emerge tomorrow.

Sometimes it's good to say 'I don't know', find someone who does and ask for help. I don't consider myself a businessman. A salesman yes. But there is no excuse for not trying. I have an opportunity now to be part of building a company and it's up to me to go and grab it. Go on then Nick, stop frigging talking about it and do it!

Another thing that made me feel good today was that i bought a couple of books for people which may help them. They Will be sent off in the post and it felt good to think of others.

This is interesting and highlights my alcoholic self obsessed and self centred personality. I didn't have to say that I'd bought books for people which may help them. I could have just bought them, sent them and left it at that. Content in my soul I'd done a good thing. Part of my daily recovery programme says 'do someone a good turn and not get found out'. It shows how far away from that I am as i actually think 'fuck that I want some reward'. Apparently the best souls and humblest ones are those who don't seek rewards or payoffs. They just do. Clearly I've got a little while to go yet as I've just needlessly mentioned it on my blog to make me look better than I actually am. Image and Ego No?

Anyway, a half decent day all round and I didn't do anything dodgy. Hooray

xx

Day 316 - Mon Nov 26th - Changing, Prayer v Masturbation & Blockbusters

That's the longest title yet. Pretty eclectic.

The weekend were my shortest posts yet. Why? If I'm honest I felt decidedly under par, under the weather and mentally low. I didn't want to write yet another moanathon and self obsessed whine. It was self imposed misery and there's only so much you can keep sharing that shit with the world. So I kept it short and simple.

I wrestled with it for quite a while. On one hand should I put down exactly how I feel in the interest of honesty and integrity of my writing. On the other hand I was bent out of shape and it would have been grim reading. On balance I did the right thing. This morning I woke up refreshed and renewed  and after a meeting feel human once again. When my head's gone I lack perspective and then in that moment you can write all kinds of negative shit which isn't a true reflection of where you are at. So sometimes it's best to let it pass. It did. So here goes today's blog. Eyes down.Strap In. Let us begin;

Change

A tricky subject. Change apparently is good. They say we must move forward and keep changing. I certainly need to, particularly in recovery. If I stand still and wallow in my own mentallness i get bogged down and end up in dangerous territory. Whether it be acting badly, not doing the right thing, being miserable or hurting people (including myself) It always ends badly. Too much of that without meetings etc will inevitably lead me back to drinking and that's not something i want to do.

I went to a meeting today and the topic was a Higher Power, God, Self will and self reliance. It made me think. After struggling for a few months hitting a series of lows. I handed my drinking and alcohol over to something higher than me 11 years ago and the desire to drink somehow left me. I am now neutral to it. I never gave it up. I never quit. The desire to drink was just removed. It just happened. I prayed every day (fuck knows what to or why) but it took 6 months until the pain got too much and I'd had enough. I admitted defeat and I haven't taken a drink since. I have kept that going every day for 11 years and it has worked so far. Nice one God (again) I can't take credit for that one.

If I know that why am I not prepared to give other areas of my life over to a power greater than me? Work, money, finance, status, porn, relationships, sex, food, me. I don't want to trouble the Guvnor with these so i get on with running the show myself. Result? Fucking disaster in most of them and continuing problems. An addictive personality means i bottom out on most of them and make a right balls up of things. But have I had enough yet? Has the pain got too much?

I get into pain. I want to change. I call up people. I make lists, my intentions are there and then the day after or when it dies down i forget about it and go back to normal. It never really fixes it or gets to the heart of the problem. I guess i just ignore it again and hope it will go away. It's a little like drinking. Swearing off. Saying I'll never do it again. And then after it has all died down you're back on it again. A form of insanity.

I suppose I'm not ready for deep change. I actually enjoy some of my defects of character, or am so used to them giving them up is like making Piers Morgan watchable. They say you have to hit rock bottom to do something about areas of your life. But the wise man doesn't wait for that. Unfortunately I'm not a wise man.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. Courage to change the things i can and the Wisdom to know the difference. I think maybe a bit of praying for courage and wisdom maybe in order.

Prayer v Masturbation

Talking of praying, if it is such a powerful weapon (no pun intended on masturbation) then why do i spend so little time doing it or at least cultivating my understanding of it? For years I got my priorities wrong. 20 minutes flicking the Bishop and 2 minutes praying meant that I went to sleep tired & spiritually empty. If I reversed this process I'd be like Mahatma fucking Gandhi. Maybe that's where I've been going wrong all this time. Time for a rethink. More time spent nurturing my spiritual connection rather than my wrist.

Blockbuster

Talking of making a mess. I Rejoined Blockbuster today. What a shit hole the Twickenham one is. Roof leaks and there is a vague smell of bodies decomposing. Never a pleasant mix for a shopping experience. And why do they always employ fat goths? Going in there is like stumbling into a Dungeons & Dragons Meeting. I still prefer it to Net Flix though as I'm quite old fashioned in liking actually going into a store. Don't get me wrong, I hate Blockbuster with a passion, it's such a shame that the big corporates plus Netflix and Internet movies have faded out the independent video shops. I remember them in the 80's when you had grubby little men in baseball caps behind the counter and you always tried to get Porkies or Caligulla or 'Confessions of' out when you were 15. And of course you'd always ask for Under the counter videos. Debbie Does Dallas a particular favourite. (I will tackle the subject of how porn has changed over the years in a blog soon. Magazines to videos to DVD's to Internet)

There was a great place in Balham called Mr Video. The dude behind the counter was Mr Video. A proper film buff. He saw everything, wrote his own scripts and was ultra knowledgeable. You would pick a couple of movies out and ask him what they were like.

The Perfect Murder? "Solid Hollywood Thriller". OK I'll get that. Secretary?"Bleak and pretentious, More outhouse than art house. OK if you like David Lynch. But a poor imitation. Try it but you won't like it". He was genius and i trusted him entirely on his choice. In the end i would go there tell him the mood I was in and he would pick one out for me. Like a personal shopper in movies. Superb.

Hungover and just need no thought film. "Easy, Leon. Great Thriller. Easy on the eye" Thanks Mr Video. Feeling alert and clever? "Go Ill Postino. Clever, Sweet and beautiful cinematography". Thanks Mr Video.

I wanted to ask him about every decision in my life he was that knowledgeable. Shame he got sent down for Video piracy. I think it was Pirates of the Caribbean. Kind of Ironic really.

You don't get that level of service in Blockbuster. Just dead bodies smell, fuck loads of cheap popcorn and a bloke who looks like he's stuck popcorn to his fat Goth face., Oh hang on that's acne. Sorry.

Movies That Reflect You

I plumped for 2 videos. Shame. A exploration of a middle aged sex addict which highlights the utter loneliness, sadness and emotional disconnection of someone completely addicted to sex of all forms. It also has fine selection of knitwear, men's scarves and a top class 3 some scene.  (My Mum sent me a review of this film when it came out at the Cinema - that's not a good sign is it?)

The other film was Ted, about a childish teddy bear who swears, smokes and is totally inappropriate and filthy. Again a bit close to home. I'll watch that tomorrow/

It made me think that it's fun getting movies out that reflect you. What would yours be? The ones that reflect you? Do you know it immediately or need time to think? As long as it's not Human Centipede then you're OK. Try playing that game with your partner and see what he/she gets you. If it's American Psycho you need to talk.

Worst Film Rented Scenario

The worst video I rented was years ago when my Nan was visiting my mum at Xmas. We were watching TV and i suggested "why don't I get a film we can all watch?". Off I popped to Dirty Barry's Video Emporium and for the life of me I don;t know why and baring in mind the family had endured 25 years of alcoholic madness through my father and brother I decided to rent, in my infinite wisdom 'Leaving Las Vegas'. A film about a bloke who drinks himself to Death.

My Nan was 80 odd at the time and had hardly been out of Llanelli. A Church going, non drinking, no swearing Christian old school Welshwoman. In the first 30 minutes there were 34 fucks, 16 motherfuckers, 12 cocksuckers and 2 Jesus Christs. The lead character drank himself to death & I felt so uncomfortable for around 45 minutes until the Gang rape scene finished us off. The film was switched off and Emmerdale was put on. "Well -e - by Gosh" as my Nan used to say "I much prefer Emmerdale". We are stunned to silence. What was i thinking?

It was good to watch a movie tonight and feel reasonably comfortable in my own skin. I started writing again and have decided to try and cut down on the diet coke and start meditating for 2-5 Min's in the morning. Trying to change my morning routine just a little helps the process of change. I have been stuck in a rut for the past few weeks and it started to really bug me over the weekend. I even bought some carrots and Greens today. Looking after myself is not my strongest point.

Self compassion is something that grates on me. But clearly something i need to do more of. Diet, behaviour, looking after yourself, sleep etc. All the basics really. Being single and living alone can sometimes lead to self absorption and it is frustrating to read and watch. i guess people with kids, families, busy jobs etc would not identify. But sometimes we get into ruts and patterns of behaviour that are really hard to get out of.

Anyway enough of my drivel today. Have a good week readers not even the never ending rain and grey skies can get me down today. It's so good to feel human again

xx

Day 315 - Sun 25th Nov - Nice one God

Recovery Works

A lovely day with a close friend & their family on their birthday. It was genuinely beautiful to see recovery in action. People getting things back in their life when once it looked gloomy. Out of darkness life can bloom and I saw that today. Touching. Nice one God.

Why is it always easier to see in others but not yourself?

xx

Day 314 - Sat 24th Nov - All Black

It rained all day

Wales lost at home to the All Blacks

Not feeling it today

Sorry

End
x

Day 313 - Fri 23rd Nov - The Perfect Relationship

Is there such a thing as the perfect relationship? Today I was inspired by a piece in the Metro newspaper.

Before I begin. ** A disclaimer. ** I hereby decry I am the worst person in the world to discuss or have any answers for relationships. I make Zsa Zsa Gabor look stable. Although I've never been married I could have been on a few occasions and  I speak on behalf of the crap single male commitment phobe at 40 refusing to grow up or settle down brigade, so I'm no Clare Rayner. It's of course all driven by fear and selfishness. But having had a few of them I thought it would be fun to explore the perfect relationship.

A recent study of 2000 men and women by Remington found the general consensus, 'there is no such thing as the perfect relationship'. It found that men rated their partners at 67% whilst women rated their men as 69% (you would have thought it should be the other way round). 50% of couples agreed they had found 'the one', which is pretty alarming seeing as the other half are just biding their time before something better comes along or are just scared of being alone.

None of the men questioned (2000) agreed their partner was 100% flawless (unless they were after a blowie) and 80% said they would never meet their perfect woman. (Basically someone with massive tits who cleans, cooks, stops by every now and again for rampant sex and knows the offside law).

It's a comprehensive top 20 list of what men and women found annoying in their partners. It will take too long to go through all 20 so the Headline news is that women get annoyed by their partners leaving skids in the toilet, watching too much sport, being lazy, criticising her driving, leaving clothes on the floor, being unkempt, farting in front of her, etc etc. Er, they needed a survey to come up with that? You don't need to go out with a bloke to come up with that list, it's called being a bloke. The weird ones on the list are not liking dogs (we've all been there after 8 pints) & not being good with children.(er post Jimmy Saville I thought that's a plus point?)

What I found surprising what didn't make the list. Cheating, giving your partner an STD, heavy drinking, domestic violence, gambling, losing the house, unemployment, bullshitting, bad breath, picking nose/arse, heavily skidded underpants, bad taste in clothes and dancing. That's a pretty annoying line up.

For women apparently blokes get annoyed by them watching soaps, nagging, cleaning, trying to change their dress sense (er what dress sense men - shut it) farting, having last word, not making an effort with friends (careful too much effort involves bedding them) leaving 'girly' things around (what they mean OK magazine and dusters?) unsafe driving and having the last word. OK granted some of those are annoying but it's what women do. Why get annoyed?

In my experience women like men to be men. Drive too quickly, grow facial hair, dress slightly wrong, watch sport, do blokey things. As long as you appreciate your woman, meet her halfway, deliver multiple orgasms and buy her a bunch of Carnations from the Esso garage once in a while you're OK (spot the 3 year itch man there maybe I need a rethink)

What they they missed out on the list though:

Not speaking to you for ages, asking you what they look like in a particular piece of clothing and getting the hump when you say 'nice', not doing anal, blaming you for being insensitive, shoving you down the list when you have kids (apparently), sleeping with your best mate, cutting up your clothes in an argument, not doing deep throat, not letting you do what you want when you want too, being terrible at directions, always going off on a tangent in an argument or most infuriatingly keeping calm, always reading the instructions, being wiser, calmer & better at decisions. All pretty annoying stuff.

Anyway here's the list from today's Metro:

Now as i say I cannot really judge this one. I have never had a relationship that's lasted longer than 3 years. I've been out with some lovely lovely girls over the years. I guess a combination of fear, not allowing people to be who they are, intolerance and being immature has prevented me from taking the plunge or going out for longer. Plus coming from a home where i saw a long unhappy marriage never helps. Oh and I'm a difficult bastard.

I've also had a series of what I like to term 'relationshits'. You cannot really call them proper relationships, more 'happenings'. Either based solely on lust, or, well lust. I've got to be honest there.

I suppose you married folk or people who have been in long term relationships will be able to judge this better. But it appears there is no such thing as the perfect relationship. Is there?

What a horrible place to be if 50% of the men say they haven't met 'the one' or 80% think they'll never find a perfect fit. That's just shit. How must their partners feel? Surely it's better to not be in one than be in one 50%? No woman deserves that.

What makes a proper relationship? Love, respect, need, desire, friendship. Everyone loves to feel loved and wanted and needed. Everyone loves the security and warmth that comes from sharing your life with someone. When someone KNOWS the real you. Notices small things you do. It's such a lovely feeling. Problems arrive when you don't fit or when you fall into something based on insecurities or self centred fear.

For instance everyone has an element of co-dependency but usually in alcoholics this goes off the scale and people get drawn together more out of their own fears and weaknesses than out of respect and true love. I know this as I have done this on many occasions (not all but some) That is not a healthy relationship. I have acted on fear or weakness before. I didn't realise i was doing it or was powerless to stop it but it happened. Not good as you are effectively playing with someones emotions.

You know people who are off and on, constant dramas, delete number, never contact me again and then they're back together. Or celebs getting married after 23 days. It's an insane ride. A buzz and when you get caught up in it, it's a buzz, a high almost another form of addiction.

However I digress. I'm going off into a whole new blog topic. Love and sex addiction and co-dependency. A touchy subject for a man as we're supposed to be strong and non dependant right? Bollocks. Most men are more co-dependant than women. There is even the phrase 'behind most great men is a greater woman'. We're just better at hiding it. I grew up with one as a Father. I know my onions on that score.

Back to the article. There is no such thing as the perfect relationship. Well, maybe. What is a perfect relationship? Nobody is perfect. We are human after all. Full of imperfections. We make mistakes all the time. No-one can claim perfection other than Simon Cowell of course. But then again he's a massive closet gay if ever i saw one.

So if we are imperfect surely you can't have a perfect relationship. And what is one? Do people think a perfect relationship is like your wedding photos? All smiling, in love, family, friends, surrounded by perfect images of perfect love. Well i guess if you've got 3 kids running around naked, shitting on the floor, dog chewing up the curtains and mortgage bills coming through the door that perfect wedding snap is a distant memory.

And what of the people who seemingly have perfect relationships? The Facebook family. Snapshots of perfection you see online or at parties. 'They seemed such a lovely couple' before he stabbed his wife and killed the family. Who the fuck knows what goes on in people's lives or relationships.

Someone described love a long time ago to me and I may have written this before so forgive me(I've done so many blogs now I can't keep up). They described love to me as 2 Oak trees. Strong roots in the ground and trunks. Individual but strong and then love is the branches that intertwine. Growing together but individuals too. I love that analogy and have kept that in the back of my mind.

Yes there are many annoying traits to partners. I have been guilty in the past of not accepting my girlfriend at the time. For how they were. Trying to change them to do as I want them too. Big mistake. Who wants to be with someone who's critical? One of my biggest achilles heel. Live and let live and concentrate on the good points for why you were attracted in the first place is surely the answer. Though again people who have been together for ages will be able to shed more light on that than me. I'm clearly rubbish at it.

Are we a product of our childhood? Possibly. Chances are if you come from a home where divorce was the norm you are less likely to want to get married. Again certainly the case for me. But not the rule. I actually believe in marriage, in unity, in love, in togetherness and if she can bake a mean Victoria Sponge and fuck like a shithouse door when the plagues in town then all the better

In my opinion the survey is bollocks, mundane and superficial. If those are a reasons for splitting up you should never have got together in the first place. But that's the beauty of life. We can never make perfect decisions all the time. There would never be divorce or arguments would there? Relationships are hard. Maybe even the hardest human test. Sometimes you have to be pragmatic and play to your circumstances. It can't be Love Actually all the time. Can it? I want Hollywood blockbuster but unfortunately life isn't like that is it?

So what is the secret for a perfect relationship? Here it is. A man lived on a small boat with his wife for 30 years and never had an argument. When asked what the secret to a long and happy relationship was, he said 'It's simple. Two words'. "What are they?" asked the interviewer. He replied "Yes Dear"

Amen

x

Day 312 - Thurs 22nd Nov - Shits & Giggles

Feeling under the weather today & a tad flat so I'm going to keep it short;


The End
xx










Only joking;

Awake 7am - blurgh

Raining outside - And in my head - blurgh

Missed the Ultra negative neighbour as I went out door - hurrah!

Went to work - blurgh

worked - Yawn

Came back from work - blurgh

2 hour sleep - Rough

Woke up early evening feeling worse. Isn't it supposed to revitalise you? I was like someone emerging from a 20 year coma (without the hard on)

Abandoned idea of going out - blurgh

Watched football on TV whilst cycling - Liverpool drew - blurgh

Booked a comedy gig on 4th December - Eek I have to write a 5 min routine.

Early Night - well 11.55pm. Early for me

Why do I never want to go to bed early? It's like I have an aversion to tomorrow. If i go to bed early then it will be tomorrow and I don't want today to end. What a ridiculous mindset. I mean, as if watching late night TV is a reason for today not to end no matter how tired I am. What is the point in staying up? Is missing Air crash Investigation or 'The Late Review' catastrophic? Is it going to affect my day? No, not at all, so why do it? Bad habit? Crap mindset? I'm not really sure. Usually I get a spark at midnight and feel wide awake until 2am. It's when I get my best ideas. Trouble is I rarely write them down and they are forgotten by the morning. I reckon there are some ace comedy routines, business ideas, scripts & books all in the ether from late night thinking.

The worst thing is always waking up on the sofa at 3.30am, bad back, drool hanging from your mouth with some all night poker on TV, then you watch that for 30 minutes not even liking poker before you think to yourself, 'what the fuck are you doing, go to bed'. It's not REM. It's that twilight hour when your awake but not aware. A weird place to be.

The boffins say sleep is important. I don't get enough of it or place enough emphasis on it. It's not insomnia, more stubbornness. At least if you are awake then doing something constructive is great. Instead I like to have at least 2 hours of doing nothing sometime in the day. Horizontal with papers, books, TV, gum, tea and subconsciously playing with my nuts. There I go again always talking about playing with me nuts. But when a man relaxes on the sofa they subconsciously play with their nuts. We are not even aware we are doing it. Comforting? Relaxing? Not really sure, but what I do know you have to be aware in public when sitting in a waiting room. It could get you into all kinds of trouble.

In bed by 11.55pm which for me is early, Thursday 22nd November 2012. Thanksgiving day for all our US friends. But for me it was the worlds dullest day. In 10 years time I won't be looking back on this one as a belter. Feeling flat is not great. But then again it can't all be shits and giggles every day can it? That's why God invented Prozac. But that will never last. Some days are just flat. Either because of a physical, mental or emotional imbalance. Sometimes because of finance or romance or maybe the planets are out of line. Who the fuck knows, it's just the way it is sometimes. No need to go looking for a reason or delve into counselling. One has to accept some days are just as flat as Sue Barker's tits.

Still, I didn't drink, didn't say anything wrong, didn't upset anyone, didn't get arrested, didn't cheat, lie, steal or manipulate. So I can't complain too much it just didn't involve a £20 million deal, an orgy, a lottery win, a gig to 100,000 people, a book published, a magazine article or a Tesco mobile advert. Nuts, never mind I will keep trudging the road to happy destiny. Until tomorrow lovely people



xx

Day 311 - Weds 21st Nov - How to Pray. A Beginners guide to Faith and God

My neighbour excelled himself this morning. The weather was even worse than yesterday. Windy, pouring rain, dark and grim. I headed out for an early(ish) morning run. 10km with 3 killer hill sprints (well faster run than a plod) and 100 box jumps.

On my way back my neighbour was heading out the door. "Morning how are you doing?" I asked. "Terrible, fucking rubbish" came the reply. "Oh well at least it's not pissing down", I cheerfully smirked before scurrying indoors keen not to catch his unbridled misery.

The first words I heard by another human today were 'terrible, fucking rubbish'. A cracking start to the day. I'm enjoying our little morning exchanges. It actually cheers me up to have the worlds most negative man living next door. Makes me look positively glowing.

Another awful drama has been started by someone close which saddens me, although I'm totally powerless over it. Upsetting to see others affected though. I hate mental illness & alcoholism, though you just have to accept it is part of life. Everyone has bad cards played in their life. Everyone has problems and family difficulties.

I've heard of some awful ones lately and I guess we are all in it together and have to find our own way. The key is trying to deal with it with a good heart and a liberal dose of tolerance. So easy to say and exceptionally difficult to do. It's easy to dive off the deep end and judge, criticise, get angry and look to make it better. But some things you can't make better. Some things you have to just let go and do your best. Not my natural inclination as I want to get in there and sort it. Not even the Great Nick can do that on this occasion. Nor any other if I'm being honest with myself.

So where does that leave you? Well if all else fails it's got to be God I reckon. Bare with me here, don't switch off thinking 'he's off his rocker I don't want to read about religion or God'. Well I'm not going too. My version of God is something other than me. Outdoors. Sunrise, a higher being, a power, an energy, a group of people. Whatever it is you believe in that's cool. But for arguments sake lets just call it God. Not God as in the Morgan Freeman style God in Bruce Almighty (God doesnt do Insurance adverts), or a conventional Religious God. That's not my thing, however i do believe and I'm quite prepared to hand all this over to him as I'm fucked if I or any other member of my family can do anything about it. It's a bit bigger than any human power this one.

I prayed hard today. In fact I prayed like a bastard. If indeed you can pray like that. I'm not exactly sure what to, or if I'm doing it right but I prayed. It helps me to have a faith. Life is pretty raw and nasty neat sometimes.

Some people see praying as a cop out. A form of weakness if you like. That is cool by me. I did too years ago. Whether you be into organised religion, atheism, Buddhism or swinging I don't care. That is your choice, but things work out better for me when I have a faith and try to hand life events over to a higher power. It acts as a cushion, a buffer. I'm pretty small and powerless over many things so if i give it the big I Am, then basically I'm heading for problems. A collision course with the world.

If I'm honest I'm not sure if I pray correctly. The only guide book is the bible or Koran, but if you're not into organised religion you're pretty much left to get on with the praying thing yourself. Obviously if you get guidance from God then you've been at the Mushrooms but I pray without knowing if I'm doing it right.

Do you kneel down? Sit up, can you do it on the move? Can you smoke whilst praying? Should you clasp your hands together and close your eyes? Is it a petition? Do you start with 'Dear God please can I win the Euro Lottery, it's a double rollover', Should you pray for others, how long should it be for? Should it be like a conversation with a loved one? Can you pray in the car? First thing in the morning? What if someone sees me? All these questions and I'm not sure I've got the answers.

The only two things I KNOW about praying are;

1 - Don't pray for specific things. Lottery win, 3 some, whatever. Doing it for your own selfish means is a waste of a prayer (like phone a friend in Who wants To Be a Millionaire)

2 - Don't pray whilst drying your hair. I should imagine God doesn't like you multi tasking whilst praying. Disrespectful. How busy can one be?

All I know is it makes me feel better. To feel that there is someone or something on your side. To know that I or other humans don't control all destiny. It's like a nurofen for my soul and I like it.

I see others who have faith (No matter what in) and they seem to have an inner peace and calmness I find attractive. You can always tell if someone is comfortable with themselves. They radiate a quiet confidence. I want that. They tend not to have to chew gum all the time, smoke, drink diet coke, look for approval, be on the move, constantly prove themselves, seek pleasure, feel fear, take on challenges. Win. They just seem to have a humble and quiet confidence that things will be OK.

Of course having faith doesn't mean to say that bad life shit doesn't happen to you, or that you're some kind of superior being to people who don't believe or have faith. That's where i find organised religion and narrow minded view of God unappealing. That sort of arrogant 'If you don't follow our faith in God then you are in the dark not like us who are enlightened' type attitude. That's a real turn off for me.

I know people of  religion who may devote themselves to God and faith and the Church but have some of the most narrow minded views around, my own Grandfather Idwell Isaac was one of them. A welsh Preacher of Fire & Brimstone but so narrow minded. Is that what God would want for us? I guess we are all different. No worse. No better.

Sometimes I talk to Idwell, or my other Grandfather, or my Father or my Nan as a prayer. They have all passed away and I sometimes talk to them. Asking them to 'sort something' for me. Or look after my family. Or to help out sick members of my family. But it doesn't work like that does it? If prayer was a petition to God to take away life's nastiness there would never be illness, death, war or accidents would there. It's the way of the world my job is to concentrate on my reaction on it.

So I'm going to continue praying like a bastard. Maybe one day it will feel something, I will feel connected to it instead of praying like I'm running through a shopping list. But one things for certain. God, if you are reading this blog because you've got some downtime, taking a break from being Omnipotent, I know I shouldn't ask but just a wee Lottery win? A couple of million. It doesn't have to be the Euro. I'm not greedy. But I can sort me Mum out. She could do with a break. And my brother and nieces. They're going through a hard time. I promise I won't spunk the money on white suits and diamond earrings.I'd help people with it. Open a rehab. An arts school. A place for the mentally ill. Of course I'd take a few holidays and sort myself out first. I mean I'm not a Saint God. I'm well selfish and materialistic in parts. Then again if you're God you knew that.

Oh shit, I've just broken rule number 1. God was probably enjoying the blog up until that part. I hope I haven't just cursed myself for eternal bad luck. Still at least i didn't write it whilst drying my hair.

Finally On this day in 1905 – Albert Einstein's paper, Does the Inertia of a Body Depend Upon Its Energy Content?, was published in the journal "Annalen der Physik". This paper revealed the relationship between energy and mass. This leads to the mass–energy equivalence formula E = mc².

Now that is a fucking blog title in itself. Who would have thought 107 years after the publication  Enstein would have had to review his publication is in today's world there is far too much body Mass and not enough energy. How do you like them Apples Albert?

xx

Day 310 - Tues 20th Nov - Positive Thinking, Exercise & Nutrition

After waking with the full effects of Walls Vienetta in my system, though thankfully these days it's not wine, whisky, vodka and MDMA. I decided the only thing that would shake off the lethargy was 6 x400 metre sprints & 100 box jumps in the local park. The wind was howling and the rain streaming down but I dragged myself to the local dog shitted park and sprinted my little ass off. There is something hugely pleasurable about going out into the bracing elements on a winters morning. Good for the soul.

Training in a local municipal park is like working for the Red Cross in mine infested lands.(probably) You have to keep your wares about you to dodge the massive amounts of dog shit. It helps you to weave and move in your training, though one lapse in concentration and splat. You have a problem. OK granted one lapse in Mine infested lands and you lose a leg or your life, so the comparison between that and getting dog shit on your Adidas trainers is a little over dramatic. Granted.

It was hard but it makes you feel good after. Obviously the ultra heavy smoking doesn't help but I felt good. Then I bumped into my neighbour. I hadn't spoken to anyone yet as it was 8.30am. So the first words I heard today from a human soul, was from my neighbour who said 'Fucking bloody awful isn't it?'

What a positive start to the day. Nice one neighbour. Morning to you too. I would imagine he was talking about the weather, though he could quite possibly be talking about his life. It's hard to know. He's a peculiar man. Single at 60, loves his motorbikes and liberally uses the word 'wankers' in conversation. A vision of the future maybe if I don't settle down?

Who knows, I just know I'd rather not be injected with ultra gloominess 1st thing in the morning, I do well enough on my own without help from others on that score thank you very much. I replied, 'don't worry only another 4 months of it', smiled and went back indoors. What a cracking start to the day.

Exercise is important to me and my mental health. Obviously I like the physical benefits. I like to look pretty good. The incredibly vain sod in me demands it. But it is important for my mind too. If I'm exercising then it seems to keep the beast within sated. Coupled with a daily programme of recovery and I've got half a chance.

Goal setting helps me to keep motivated too. If i have a marathon, triathlon or something to look forward to then it gets my ass out the door even when it's raining or dark. It makes me feel better. I guess we've all got to find something that works for us right?

Food & Nutrition is also important. Probably more so than exercise. This is an area which is a constant struggle & I'm dreadful at. I have a massively sweet tooth. I love eating shit. Cakes, chocs, burgers, kebabs, ice cream. I'd go through the card and pile it in. I know deep down I've probably got an eating disorder and a healthy dose of body dis morphia. Ever increasing in males (secretly) apparently but I'm not going to get too down on that as it's mostly manageable. Plus of course it's bad for my macho 'Bond' image. Not that I've got one of course, well other than in my own head.

If I get on a healthy roll then eating well is easy. I have a ridiculously bland diet. I only eat certain foods, basically because I'm single, live alone, am a Man and totally lazy. I rarely cook and my diet at home is shocking. It mostly revolves around tins of tuna (with added salad cream) buttered meat and silk cut. Dreadful. I'm pretty sure I haven't seen that on Masterchef.

"What are you going to cook for us today Nick?"
"Well Greg, first I'm going to open the tuna. It has to be Waitrose in Olive Oil. Then I'm going to splat a great big dollop of salad cream on it, again Waitrose own, Heinz is shit and serve it rather rustically in the tin"
"Is that it?"
"God No Greg. Then I'm going to get some Chicken and butter it, serve it on a plate and follow it up with a couple of silk cuts and heavily sweetened tea"
"Please leave the studio now"
END

The only greens I get regularly is the Tuna tin which is green. Does that count? Oh and apples and grapes. Loads of apples and grapes.

I'm not the best advert for a balanced diet but there it is. I get in trouble when I get on an unhealthy roll and the sweet tooth comes out. Fuck me I'm dangerous then and I crave sugar for days. However I have recently found Chromium and Chlorophyll supplements which helps to regulate blood sugar levels and reduce cravings. So I'm mostly OK these days. I manage it accordingly.

At heart I'm a reluctant exerciser. I'll procrastinate for ages in my head. Putting off going for a run until I drive myself bonkers and finally get out. Then when I'm out running my mind will constantly play tricks on me. Negative head will be encouraging me to cut it short or focus on a pain in my body. Anything to fuck me up. That sodding head is a nightmare sometimes.

I suppose that's why I've done so many marathons and Ironman triathlons. To prove my head wrong. To convince myself it doesn't tell the truth. I had convinced myself I couldn't run 26.2miles or indeed swim 3miles, cycle 112 and then run a marathon (Ironman distance triathlon) But of course i could and did. The secret is taking that into other areas of my life.

Finally i have just had my 3rd article published on a new health website. It's an account of running the London Marathon earlier this year. It's a study of my thinking and the actual race. Re-reading it the other day I found it pretty moving but also entertaining. I laughed out loud twice at my own writing. Pretty sad or impressive depending which way you view it.

Here is the link. I have to be honest and say if people read it, comment on it, press 'like' on it then i get paid. I'm pretty confident it stands up as a decent article without having to beg you to read it so i can get paid (a little) But if you could I would be humbly grateful.

http://www.dontmindlife.com/?p=1401

Keep chugging readers and can't wait to hear what pearls of positivity my neighbour comes out with tomorrow

xx

Day 309 - Mon 19th Nov - Mens Facial Hair & Public Perception

It's Monday, my day has been as dull as I'm A Celebrity so I threw the topic of the day out to Facebook people and got the following back;

Karma Sutra v Magna Carta - Sex and History a lethal combination but I'm going to vote for the Karma Sutra all day long.

Speaking English abroad to make them understand you - One for the BNP Brigade that one, I think I'll give it a pass

Would you rather have extreme fish odour or scales on your face - MMMM, with Palestine and Israel bombing the shit out of each other I think this blog topic is crucial. Someones been on the hallucinogenics again.... I'll pass, but if pushed scales.

If someone comes back to earth after being away for 30 years what would they make of sms/facebook/Oyster cards/Ipads/modern life - Blimey how long have you got? A good topic when I have a spare 3 days

Etiquette and spacial awareness in Swimming Lanes - Good topic. A)There is none and B)There is none

Wotsits v Quavers? - easy, neither Salt and Vinegar Discos. Both Wotsits and Quavers taste like cheesey cock. Rank.

People's perceptions - Great topic. One I shall deal with another time - Quick answer; Mostly wrong

Movember - Men's facial Hair and People's Perceptions of it. Bingo the winner


During the month of Movember, a Testicular Cancer Charity introduced a great idea a few years ago. Movember. The idea was for men to grow moustaches during the month for fund & awareness raising. It's become huge and around 10-20% of the male population in UK have joined in and started growing all kinds of magnificent moustaches. From the classic Handlebar all the way to the controversial Hitler (and not Grace Jones style) men throughout the land have been growing facial hair at a popularity not seen since the 70's.

Me? I've plumped for a beard. I can't really do a solid moustache it just makes me look like a Paedophile so I'll stick to a beard. I've gone down the Gibb route. A fine beard role model if ever there was one. For any bloke wishing to go down the moustache route of course the ultimate template is 'The Selleck'. A great big mass of hair on the top lip, ideally topped off with a Hawian shirt, a Ferrari and a helicopter.

Most blokes growing tache's look superb. It mixes up the modern man and makes them look a little old school and manly. Most women in my experience actually like men's facial hair as they see it as a sign of virility, masculinity and manliness. The only trouble is when they actually go to kiss their man, it becomes like snogging a dog with a Brillo pad stuck to it's nozzle. Facial hair is to look at not rub against. The number of cases of female chaffing/rashes has increased 200% this month. Nivea sales have shot through the roof.

Facial hair is a radical departure for blokes. Some stick with it through thick and thin. Barry Gibb and my Uncle Ken for instance. 65 and keeper of beard and tache since the early 70's/ These men are to be applauded for their commitment to the facial hair. Others are a little fickle and only do the Movember thing.

It highlights how fashions change. Hair was in during the 70's and early 80's. All men had beards, sideburns and big bouffants. Women had Farah Fawcett's, big bushes and hairy armpits. Now women are hairless (mostly) and blokes clean shaven.

Men now in their 20's and early 30's seem to look like ponces (apologies for being homophobic it's meant in a tongue and cheek way). They clean shave, sculpt eyebrows, fake tan and look like girls. Even the England Rugby team are doing a Towie. Gelled hair, fake tan, sculpted eyebrows and coloured boots. Where have all the real men gone? In their 40's that's where.

I'm a fan of facial hair as it reconnects blokes back to an era when they were blokes. When a low fat diet was extra Rothmans, political correctness was voting SDP and Male grooming was using soap. When a 'facial' was something entirely different (see Pearl Necklace) Now it's all Clarins Black Pepper Facial scrub and body butter. What the fuck did we do before facial scrubs? Nivea soap and a flannel as hard as sandpaper.

There have been many fine examples of moustaches and beards throughout history. You can obviously discount Hitler. You have to be a brave man to grow one of those in Movember. But Dali, Selleck, Gibb, Bellamy, the beatnick poets. You cannot imagine them without facial hair can you?

Is male grooming making us look better? Does it improve the male experience? Do people's perceptions change when Man sports facial hair? It was the norm back in the day. But did women really like it? Of course they did as they were hairy too. A bloke with a massive beard would go down on a woman with massive bush and they would cancel each other out. Hair on hair was fine.Like a scientific form of a score draw.

Nowadays it's hairless on hairless which is fine too. Again it cancels each other out but add Movember into the mix with men sprouting facial hair all over the place and women don't know what to do. Modern girls need to man up and grow some balls and take on the facial hair challenge, ( that's probably the most impappropriate use of those words to construct a sentence in the history of sentences.)

Modern girls need to experience a full beard and large tache. Too many of them have been spoilt by the modern poncey man. The nearest they've got to facial hair is a Craig David goatee. This is plain wrong. Girls have been sheltered. Their mothers had to go through hours of kissing their man with a beard sharper than Edward Scissor hands. Women of my generation developed iron chins. Girls today are soft as shite. Complaining if one scrape gets on them after hours of snogging. It also disrupts their fake tan and makes them look like they've got orange peel on their chins.

What of people's perception of facial hair? Well obviously the main one this month is 'are you doing it for Movember?' Women like a bit of stuble I think, But on the main I suppose most women's perception of facial hair is an overiding negative. They simply think differently these days. 40 + and chicks love a beard. Anything younger and you may aswell be Gary Glitter. Such is the contempt they are viewed in. Blokes sporting it of course think they are a sex god. A cross between Warren Beatty and Tom Jones.

If a clean shaven bloke and a facial haired bloke go head to head in an interview. The clean shaven will get it. People are inadvertently facially hairist these days. There is certainly hairy prejudice. Clean shaven signifies being organised, clean and sharp. Beards and taches signify lazy, disorganised and deviant.

Then of course you've got 'The Sutcliffe Syndrome'. The UK's most notorious serial killer had a beard and slayed 13 women. That shit sticks. It seeps into the subconcious.

Finally of course you have people like Russell Brand sporting beards. This again puts people off. It's not so much the beard that makes him look like a c**t. It's the fact he is a c**t. Big difference. Having said which, i've never met the man, he's probably very lovely and visits OAP's and stuff so it's wroing of me to me to be so rude and scathing. I hate that about myself, so judgmental, so quick to judge. It's not right to think of him as an annoying try so hard to be cool wanker is it? I must improve my moral compass. Besides I look a right knobhead with a beard so I'm a fine one to talk.

One problem I have found growing facial hair in my 40's. My beard is actually quite white. A few more years and I'll be in Uncle Albert territory, though at least I'll be able to get work 4 weeks of the year at Christmas. Of course, there you go - the ultimate beard. Father Chritmas. He's not perceived as lazy is he? Of course the ultimate proof that facial hair is a good thing. If it's good enough for Father Xmas it's good enough for me.

One final word of warning though girls and boys. Stay clear of the goatee. Nobody likes to see a vagina on a mans face, unless of course you're being sat on. Anything else is just unacceptable.

You tell me though girls - Facial hair. Is it a Yes or No?

xx

Day 308 - Sun 18th Nov - Should you complain in a restaurant & Road Rage

A couple of mildly interesting things came out of today;

Facebook Can Be Useful

I organised a family Sunday lunch for my Mum;'s birthday. I know I slate Facebook but on this occasion it proved to be a useful communication tool. I posted 'where is a good Gastro pub for Sunday lunch in Surrey by the M3'. I got 8 suggestions and after some investigation picked the Windmill at Windlesham, a cute English Country pub that looked pretty stylish. Weird how they only took bookings of 4 people, but after much arm twisting and sickly charm a table for 6 was secured for 2pm.

Do you complain In a restaurant if your meal is not very good?

The age old British question. Usually Brits maintain a reserved silence in the restaurant and then moan like fuck on the way home. A new addition to the utter pointlessness of British behaviour is Tripadvisor/TopTable or any other online guide. A medium for people with too much time on their hands to write a scathing review that a restaurant didn't put enough bread on the table or had to wait 19 minutes for their main course.

The place we were in was lovely. Big bench tables, stylish furnishings and an enormous menu. Sunday Carvery it was not, nor were the prices. No matter as it was Mum's birthday and we said to her. 'It's our treat you can have anything you want on the menu under a fiver'.

The waiters were wonderfully friendly, and starters came and apart from a soft shell crab that was saltier than the Sea everything was groovy. A free glass of champagne was provided to birthday girl and all was well.

Then we waited for main course. And waited. And waited. Around an hour and 19 minutes passed, it was 4pm now, and nearly tea time. Lunch was encroaching into crumpet and muffin time. Eating hours were all over the place. I was getting a bit clucky as i hadn't eaten all day. Another 10-15 Min's passed, the waiters kept on saying 'Chef's plating up now'. This worried me as in my world 'plating up' means something vastly different. No wonder the Chef's taking ages.

Then finally out came the food. Unfortunately we had a waiter with a broken shoulder and an arm in a sling, meaning he brought out every dish individually which took ages. It was like Acorn Antiques. By the time he finished everything was cold. Not only that but two of the dishes were wrong. Oh god the dilemma. Do you keep your trap shut as they were so charming or complain in a decent way without pointing your finger and swearing?

We complained in a gentle way, the staff buzzed around bringing the replacement dishes out (piping hot) just as we finished, so all in all it was a bit of a shambles.

To be fair the manager slashed the bill by 50% and he had good shoes so we were happy. It is a good place, they were just understaffed, it didn't stop us having a good time.

I will always say if something is wrong, not minor things and be a right twat about it, but if you're going out for a meal and some things are pretty bad i reckon it's OK to complain a little as long as you don't embarrass or mortify the person or people you're with.

Road Rage

On the way back, I was on the receiving end of a superb bit of road rage. A Small little gay sports car (I have to be careful here as my car is a bit similar so that's a little pot and kettle) was weaving in and out of traffic driving like a c**t. I was on a dual carriage way at some lights. Gayboy car was in front of me. Lights turned green, all the traffic went and he stayed still, clearly pissing around and arguing with his passenger. I waited for around 20 seconds, by which time the lights were turning amber before beeping the horn (as a signal for him to start driving).

It's a big step beeping the horn in my car as it's a sad apology for a horn. It's equivalent of saying 'excuse me. do you awfully mind moving please', as opposed to the more masculine deep horn of a bigger car which effectively says 'MOVE.TWAT'. Mine is a gay horn and should be used sparingly.

The bloke in front was clearly spitting and didn't move. In fact he stayed put throughout the next set of lights. Slightly odd behaviour as it's on the main road to the M3 and caused a huge queue behind us in the lane.

I thought he had broken down or murdered his passenger but eventually he drove off and it wasn't until I passed him at the next roundabout that I realised he had done it on purpose as he slowed down to go beside me, leaned out of his window and did the wanker sign at me twice with a face so contorted with anger he looked like he was trying to shit a brick.

I then realised he was indeed a complete Twat and he had stopped on purpose because i had the temerity to beep him. I personally feel his reaction was over the top. I didn't signal to him, i was listening to The Verve at the time and casually beeped the horn as an innocent reminder.

The reaction coming back was well over the top. Perhaps he'd been to the Windmill and had to wait 2 hours for a Roast. I reckon if he did he would have murdered all the staff judging by his extreme anger.

One thing he failed to notice. He was a big muscle man with shaved hair in a tiny silver sports coupe, leaning out the window looking menacing throwing the wanker signal. All of that made him look utterly ridiculous. Really stupid. Like a lion in a pair of hot pants. How can you take this man seriously. I pity his female passenger for the rest of the journey/life with him. Clearly too many steroids have made him feel on edge.

Road rage is utterly pointless, trouble is there are just too many cars on the road in London. Too many people and it is inevitable. No doubt I'll be screaming at someone before long. As I said pot and kettle and all that.

Then it was home to munch on Quality Street and Tunnocks Tea cakes. Can't believe people would actually take time to list a meal that was wrong or write a review on a restaurant or a hotel. Oh hang on, what have I just done for the past 30 minutes. Fuck. See. I'm not even aware I'm a hypocrite. It just flows. Now where is the address for tripadvisor? Dear Points of View............

xx

Day 307 - Sat 17th Nov - Mammy's birthday

Today is all about me Mammy (that's what the Welsh say). It's her birthday see. I hope she doesn't mind me saying but she's clickety click. (66) Born on 17th November 1946. Post war in Llanelli, South Wales.

It's not really for me to talk about her on my blog publicly. But what I will say is that she really is an outstanding Mammy and human being. Kind hearted, caring, loving and always 'up', positive and there for people. She's proper ace and everyone who meets her says so. A truly wonderful person. (That's the good Christmas present bagged I hope.)

She is such a caring person, here's an example of what the old school Mother's do. Always thinking of others. We had a family lunch booked and i turned up with presents, balloons etc and she gave me a pair of Calvin Klein socks she'd bought in Fenwicks. Classic. She won't even give herself a day off from caring for others on her birthday! Old school.

She's definately in the same mould as my Nan. Small, diminutive, emotionally strong Welsh matriarch with a heart of gold and always thinking of her family. She's really the glue who holds everyone together.

I looked up some facts about her birthday and 1946. King George V was the Monarch,  Prime Minister was Clement Atleee, average house price was £500 and 'It's a Wonderful Life' was made. It was mandatory for gentlemen to sport a magnificent moustache and hat combo.

Other people who share a birth year or day with her include; Danny Devito, Martin Scorcese, Dean Martin, Rock Hudson, Joanna Lumley, George Best, Barry Gibb, Marianne Faithfull, Peter Sutclife and Harold Shipman.

A pretty eclectic line up, she shares the same age as world class footballers, actors, musicians and the UK's most notorious serial killers. Nice. Still, she's looking better than Barry Gibb so something's working.

 

Me Mammy and Neice

She's looking good and if there is a point to today's blog it is that people look younger these days. She doesn't look 66. Probably 8-10 years younger (That's an uber good Xmas present secured)  but if i think back to when I was a kid I would visit Aunties and Uncles in their 50's and 60's and they would look old. Dressed head to toe in beige or grey. Like an old person's uniform.

Now people into their 70's, even 80's are dressing younger and looking better. She certainly falls into that category. As long as people don't fall into the Jackie Stallone trap they'll be OK. There are limits after all.

The population is getting older, people are living longer. They say 60's the new 50 and 50's the new 40 etc. But i see people of my Mum's generation with more vim and vigour than teenagers. If i compare a 16 year old to her I think she has more life. energy and zest. Maybe it's the generation they were brought up, with rationing and simple pleasures. Maybe they appreciate life more? Who knows. But what I do know is that despite many tough moments and experiences she is well up for life and that is hugely impressive.

I know I'm probably biased and I went through a time when i was a teenager or in my early 20's of wanting your mum to stop being a mum and being almost embarrassed. That's normal. But as you get older you appreciate the things they have done for you.

Stroking your hair when you're a kid and about to go to the dentist. Packing you some food when you leave to go back to University. Sending you newspaper articles about 'how to stop smoking' or anything else symbolic to your life. Always concerned, worrying and looking out for you. I knew i was in trouble when she sent me a review of 'Shame', a film about a sex addcit. Thanks Mum.

I'm fortunate, although I never really had a father. Some people don't have good relationships with their mother. Some mothers of friends I know are horrid. Jealous, competitive, resentful of their children. I can't understand that but they do exist. Some people have horrible childhoods and their parents don't give a shit about them. That's grim and I guess they will meet their maker eventually. Not everyone is a good human i suppose.

I'm fortunate in having a mother who is so lovely and caring. So much so that I'm thinking of setting up a business for her as 'dial-a-mum.com'. She seems to get on really well with a number of my ex's, they ring her up for a bit of advice or encouragement or wise words. This is brilliant and can be rolled out country wide.

Are you Mumless? Is your mother a Witch? Are you Suffering with a problem? Need some support? Then dial rent-a-mum for some paternal love. Only £24.99 for 10 calls or £49.99 per month for unlimited calls. It's a winner. Just need to persuade her now.

It's a special day for a special woman whom I love very much and if i don't get an amazing Christmas present after that, there will be ructions

Happy birthday Mammy and all the Mammies of the world, apart from the horrid ones. You can just sort it out and tell your children you love them.

xx

Day 306 - Fri 16th Nov - My medicine and Compliments

I always write 2 blogs a day (in my head). One before going to a meeting and one after. I always get a different perspective when I attend an AA meeting. Pre meeting Nick and post meeting Nick are 2 different people. A mild form of Schizophrenia perhaps, except mine is called alcoholism and it centres in my mind.

Lets take today for instance. For most of it I spent it in my head (again). Nothing dramatic happened and to the outside world nothing seemed wrong. I got on with what I needed to, didn't cause any dramas, life carried on as normal. Except in my head I was disconnected, fearful, anxious, moody, mildly depressed and generally low.

I isolated. Two people called but I didn't take the calls then I felt miserable because no-body had phoned. Is that a subtle form of insanity or what? I was fearful to even call people. Making myself feel lonely so i had an excuse to feel low. The weird thing is despite 11 years of sobriety i still forget i suffer from alcoholism. It is out to get me and my thinking. I seem to regularly forget when I'm not plugged into AA. It's like I'm a goldfish. Weird.

In the evening I went to my meeting, took someone new out for a coffee, discussed the subtle mental foe called alcoholism and BOOM, i realised i had been in it all day and the meeting (along with helping someone after but that makes me sound like an egotistical do gooding wanker) helped to shake me out of it.It's only taken me 11 years to learn this. Slow learner.

I felt so much lighter. Suddenly the world seemed a better place. There was lightness and hope. The people in the street weren't so annoying. I was able to listen clearer, the music in my car sounded better. I had been lifted out of me. I was human again. What a stroke. God I'm so lucky. A meeting to me is like Prozac to a depressive. It so helps me and i genuinely believe I'm lucky to have them. I can't say I will go for ever, but I certainly hope I do otherwise Radio Nick will play loudly and inevitably end up with a drink.

I could tell i felt better as I was able to notice the scantily dressed girls on the piss in Richmond High Street.  The bloke I was with also noticed and fired off a text to someone he knew saying 'You look better than all the tarts in Richmond'. It got me thinking about compliments. That one probably won't make the top 10. I know where he's coming from but it's pretty clumsy.

It got me thinking about compliments. I have received some belters and bitches over the years. Some great ones and some not so great. I have also dished out some howlers in my time. Is it better not to receive one than get one at all? And sometimes it's hard to receive compliments isn't it?

Firstly what does Compliment mean?

Compliment

Merriam-Webster defines a compliment as “an expression of esteem, respect, affection, or admiration; especially : an admiring remark”. It comes from Middle French, via the Italian complimento, and the Spanish cumplimiento, which originates from the Latin verb cumplir: to be courteous.

An expression of esteem, respect, affection, admiration. So it's a positive comment towards someone you feel worthy & the receiver should feel good about getting one. It's a good thing to do. If you like something about someone then it's good to tell them.

We all like compliments but deep down you want good ones. Great looking, top bloke, funny, handsome, pretty, great lover, beautiful, gorgeous eyes, looking good, clever, good taste, original, great work. Whatever it is as long as it's positive. Generally they differ between men and women. Women usually would go for the physical or emotional compliment. A man may compliment a woman on how she looks, what she is wearing, her scent, her beauty, her eyes.

Whereas men like to be complimented on their prowess, their strength, their masculinity. Yes of course looks and style is important too but slightly different from the female compliment.

It is when the compliments are underwhelming that it becomes dodgy. For women try 'clean', 'good cook', 'loyal', 'nice teeth', 'not as big as i thought', 'good mother'. Any of these are guaranteed to make a woman feel like shit and doubt if they are with the right man. They are not really compliments but signposts for divorce. Women want to feel appreciated, wanted, admired, desired, noticed and loved. Compliments should reflect this and make them feel gooey inside, instead of depressed. I'm undecided where 'You look better than Richmond tarts' sits on the list.

For men bad compliments can include, 'good driver', 'like a brother', 'really good friend', 'dependable', 'good listener', 'nice hands', 'honest face'. These are dreadful. Men want to be noticed as strong, powerful, manly, handsome, rugged, great lover, great fighter, incredible, amazing, superb. Anything humble like that rather than someone who parks well and is too nice for a woman to fuck.

Is it better not to receive one like that or not at all?

Then of course you have 'compliments to the chef', 'complimentary drink' and my personal favourite 'compliments slip' which I like to childishly call 'incontinent slip'. Juvenile.

The opposite of compliments of course is criticism, which is no bad thing, hard as it is to take constructive criticism, usually from your closest loved ones can be useful and enlightening. It's when criticism turns into abuse or constant complaining that it becomes destructive and no good.

Yes we have all made mistakes, me more than most and many times over but if we are crucified and criticised for our very essence what good is that?

Nobody wants smoke blown up your ass to feed the ego. Waste of time. Just like abuse. This is also unwelcome.

So where does that leave us? Back in Carluccios in Richmond on a Friday night after the meeting with this bloke who's going on and on about the 'tarts in Richmond' and how his bird is better than them. MMM, bet she can't wait to be complimented once again it's a bit like saying Jodie Marsh pisses all over Katie Price. Or is that vice versa. Now there's a thought. Where's the number for UK TV Living. I've an idea for a gameshow......

Day 305 - Thurs 15th Nov - A Blokes Guide to Bikram Yoga

I've been practicing Bikram off and on for several years. I have a rather love hate relationship with it and my anger has got me into trouble. 'The day I was barred from Bikram Yoga' has been my best read blog to date. 500 read +, so on the request of a few people I have put together a 'blokes guide to Bikram Yoga. Here it is;

A Blokes Guide to Bikram in 10 Easy Steps

Step 1 - The first step is the doorstep. Getting Started.

Actually getting in the door to do a class is the hard bit. Blokes don't like to take direction or orders. Therefore standing in a class with a teacher ordering you into 26 different postures is as appealing as an evening with Freddie Starr & Dave Lee Travis. Why do Bikram yoga? Most blokes like to practice 2 postures. Laying down in bed/sofa and standing in the pub. Anything else is generally considered 'a waste of time'. Bikram Yoga offers flexibility, peace, calorie burning to get rid of the beer gut and man tits and most crucially a 6 females to every 1 male ratio. These stats alone are enough to drag the blokest of blokes to the studio

Step 2 - Male Pride. How to do it & Becoming Teachable

Most blokes will have the catchphrase, 'I know that'. A bloke will never like to be seen not to know how to do something. Even if it means doing it totally wrong they would rather eat their own piles than ask someone how to do it. This is Male Pride, or as women commonly know it 'stupidity'. Blokes are generally dumb it's just most of us don't like to admit it.

We don't like walking into a class full of strangers, particularly in front of women and being a novice at something. It affects the male pride and effectively renders you cock less.

Most blokes will ask lots of questions first to their girlfriends or ask 'on behalf of a mate'. Trying to glean as much information as possible before taking the plunge. Men can't quite bring themselves to say 'I'm frightened of looking a twat', so will mask this with lots of bravado and put it off.

There is no getting around it boys. You have to take the plunge and make a knob of yourself for the first few classes until you get the hang of it. My tip is not to do what I did and leave an absence of 5 years between your 1st and 2nd class. It makes it hard to remember the 26 postures.

Final tip is to go to a 'Mummy' shift class. One at 10am when the only women in the class are OAP's or exhausted Mummies who couldn't give 2 fucks about you anyway.

Step 3 - What to wear

Clearly it depends on what kind of shape you're in. It is a well known fact that most blokes are lardy. Too long spent down the pub talking about doing things takes it's toll. If the gut and man tits are too large and blokes feel self conscious then clearly the outfit has to be baggy t-shirt and Umbro football shorts bought from Sports Direct for £2. It's not very yoga or Chi but it gets the job done.

If however you are buff and a totally self centred vain show off (er author?) then you've got to go for the speedos or cock jocks. Clearly you have to be a brave man to wear these, however there is some logic seeing that you sweat more than Freddie Starr at a Scouts convention, it means less washing. A quick rinse of the budgie smugglers after and it's job done. There is no sopping t-shirt, shorts or tracksuit bottoms to worry about and you'll get a good 15-20 wears out of them before a proper wash. Bloke washing tips.

Warning Prolonged yoga can make you look like this - shamelss speedo action

Step 4 - The first 10 classes

Bikram usually does a good deal of 10 classes for £10. Blokes like a deal and would rather spend money on beer, stereo equipment or gadgets than their health. Therefore it is a good idea to hook the bloke in when bloke feels he's on a bargain.

It is important to make use of this and not give up after the first class as i did. Get the full value and do at least 5 before making up your mind. Obviously by the 10th class blokes ego tends to kick in and you think you're now a pro Yogi. Instructing others what to do and dropping in Yoga words to your lingo. 'Namaste' being a favourite one, usually followed by 'pint of stella'

By 10 classes bloke will have a rough idea if they will continue or go back to their usual exercise of X Box 3 and Championship Manager.

Step 5 - Timings of classes

This is crucial as blokes can get it so wrong. Obviously it depends on work, family, kids and life schedules but don't let that get in the way of a good class. I suggest an early evening as it's packed with post work crumpet. Early mornings in the weekend is also a good clunge spot, as girls like to get Bikram out the way before endless shopping for yet more clothes or nail products.

The other advantage to an early morning Bikram class at the weekend is that it is an effective hangover cure. Clearly the rules of Bikram will state not to turn up after you've hoovered up several grams of Columbia's finest and drunk Kronebourg out of business. But if you've been on the piss the night before and looking for a hangover cure, a massive sweat is perfect. Of course you run the risk of dehydration and ending up in A&E but since when have blokes followed medical advice?

Once completed you feel fresh and ready for an all day session again. Perfect

Step 6 - Teachers and Not reading the wrong signals

Picking the right teacher for you is important. Clearly you want to go for a teacher who wears hot pants and takes no shit. The older ones are good for a relaxing class. The high energy gay ones can also be good for a pick me up. The male Nazi's are ones best to avoid. The best ones are the teachers who show you lots of encouragement, adjust your position and lean over in front of you.

Be careful boys not to misread the signals here. Most blokes think that when any woman looks at them, talks to them or shows any attention fancies the pants of them and that they've 'still got it'. I hate to break this to you boys but they don;t. Why any woman would look at a sweaty bloke in a yoga class with his gut hanging down, bogeys gathered around the nostril and sweat pouring down his face needs his head examining. They are doing their job. Let them

Step 7 - Etiquette

Another important one. After a few classes you will get the hang of it. Blokes usually don;t talk much anyway so to be silent for 90 minutes is not a problem. Most blokes are actually grateful for the peace as women find it much harder not to yap away for 10 minutes let alone an hour and a half.

I would suggest standing towards the back, not for any other reason than you can then taker in the full totty scope. Standing at the front is tough as you are then in the firing line for both the teacher and the rest of the class. Unless of course your vain and self obsessed then you stand at the front and can look in the mirror uninterrupted for 90 minutes.

It's best to do as suggested in class. Most blokes don't like this. However failure to do this can result in a slanging match in class and being kicked out of the studio. No-one wants to see this happen. From personal experience I'd advise against it.

Farting or belching is also not encouraged though if you are going to squeeze one out make it's when the teacher is speaking and in the floor series when you can hide it much better. If you're in a packed class you have to pray like fuck it's not smelly. This can lead to being ostracised. Though most blokes haven't clue what that means.

I would also advise not going after a heavy curry or a long lunch. Yoga is not the place for you. The Red Lion is

Step 8 - Posture & Body & Benefits

Don't be alarmed if you see changes to your body. For instance you may be able to start touching your toes and not walking at 10 to 2. A new experience for most blokes. For people who tend to talk alot of shit most blokes have weak legs, arses and core. Bikram highlights this and in doing something that looks ultra gay actually makes blokes more manly.

There has to be a pay off for doing it right? Blokes need a return on their investment. Well, Good posture and core strength along with increased flexibility and a trimmer body can lead to increased nookie. Not only will you be more attractive to the opposite sex but doing regular Bikram yoga improves stamina & result in you being able to last longer than a Byson on Viagra.

For anyone wishing to go even deeper, getting into breathing, meditation and yoga techniques. This can lead to a Tantric situation where you can go for hours and deliver multiple orgasms. This however requires alot of energy and patience and most blokes can;t be arsed so will leave all that shit to Sting.

Step 9 - Discipline and Continuation

A hard one for blokes this one as Most blokes are as disciplined as a naughty boy in naughty school of naughty town. It is not something that comes easily. Unless we are genius at something in the first few goes we give up citing it as 'bollocks'. Yoga is something that continues and evolves which goes against the male psyche.

The only thing that grows on most blokes is nasal hair and most blokes are only interested in growing their bank balance, bed post notches or Marijuana plants.

To continue with yoga requires discipline and patience meaning the benefits that come from step 8 are crucial to keep them going and the female ratio continues to outnumber male. Blokes are essentially stupid and require a carrot to keep them interested. Bikram has the right balance to do this.

Step 10 - Lifestyle

Bikram yoga can have many positive influences on a blokes lifestyle. Mind, body and soul can all be nurtured. It can help to alleviate stress, make the body more flexible, lower blood pressure, lose weight, feel better about yourself. There are many health benefits.

It can also result in completely fluking a Tesco Mobile advert and appearing on National TV as a yoga teacher in Kew Gardens for a few quid.

But one of the main lifestyle benefits though is that it looks great for your nookie CV. If you're online dating for instance and you list your hobbies as 'yoga' it makes women think you are caring, compassionate and not a lager swilling football bloke. You instantly become more appealing and your chances of scoring are much higher. Yes us blokes are that shallow girls. Now where's my nearest studio?

ps - bit sexist and inbetweeners but it's a little tongue and cheek

Namste Mother f****ers

xx

Day 304 - Weds 14th Nov - Syria & Mental Health Care Makes me Sad

** Warning ** today's blog is not funny, irreverent, socially or intellectually informed. I am sad and here's why;

Back home from Gibraltar. A much better experience this time round. The Hotel was good, weather superb and welcome friendly. I met some lovely people and I learnt some more history of the place. I had a good talk with the Minister for Culture & Sport and threw a few ideas at him. Culture is my middle name. I know my Degan from Drogba. Though to be fair i struggle on my classics, unless it's a Raleigh Chopper. It was all very positive though and I even enjoyed it in parts. Having said all that, 3 days around 12 men from a security company in the UK staying in the same hotel, going to the same restaurants, hanging around in the same work venues and i was ready to leave. As lovely as they are and they are all smashing blokes I was sick of them and was desperate to leave.

I don't mean to sound harsh or ungrateful but i find it exhausting having to be 'nice', 'on' and constantly make conversation with people you wouldn't normally socially mix with. I don't mind doing it for a bit, but underneath this social character lies a deeply odd isolating weirdo. I hide it well of course, I love being around people I enjoy and feel comfortable with but I have a shelf life of forced conversation. A meal I can manage, even a whole day in parts. But 3 days? Fuck me any longer and I would have been making a break for freedom to Morocco.

Have you ever stayed with someone at Christmas for 2 or 3 days and been desperate to leave? Been out for a Christmas meal with people you'd be happy to say 'good morning' to but that's about it? Forced socialising is difficult. I pity people who have to take clients out all the time. Without alcohol it gets rather tedious.

But you know what? Who gives a fuck. It was 3 days. Hardly a tough gig was it? Not exactly something to moan about is it? I went 5 days without a meeting which made me crabby and my head hurt. The lack of perspective and gratitude is easy to lose and that went long ago. Hence my head.

My mind changed on the plane when I picked up a paper and it made me instantly guilty of being so pathetic. Two stories jumped out and made me sad.

1 - Syria 

I don't know enough about the country, the civil war, the politics or the history to make informed comment. I'll leave that to better social commentators. The story was about 2.5 million people have been 'displaced'. Fleeing their homes, their towns to be sheltered in Turkey or crisis camps. Conditions are dreadful, the country is ravaged by war and these poor fuckers have nothing. No sanitation. No fresh food. No hope. And there I was moaning about being around 12 people in a smart hotel. Twat.

I was moved by the images and it made me angry and sad. What can i do? Can i raise £400 for them? make a donation to UNICEF? But what of the Government, what of the millions being creamed off the Aid and the people by corrupt dictators, government figures. That's the real problem, but what does the West do? Piss and moan. If Oil was at stake you bet they'd be in quicker than Jordan is to young cock.

But you know what's the worst thing? Me. I'll be just like any other western liberal wanker and see those images, say 'it's awful', get angry and criticise the local government without knowing enough about it, show that I feel bad for the kids and poor people to satisfy my own guilt and then the next day i will totally forget about it and start thinking about my own problems again. I'm not proud but it's the truth. Hate that about me.

2- 'Catastrophic' Mental Care in the UK

The other story was about how bollocks the care for people with Schizophrenia and psychosis in the UK is. This makes my heart bleed. We've all got things that are close to our hearts. That melt us. That upset us. One of mine is mental illness. Particularly severely mentally ill. It just makes me so sad. Grown adults with a child like simplicity. They are not at fault. They have something that requires care. They are severely vulnerable and it makes me so sad for them not to receive dignified and proper care. Few things make me cry but this does.(and Rocky II)

The crux of the report is that too much attention is put on the end product of secure units and not early stages of treatment to help people live normal lives and not get worse.

The commission, established by the mental health charity Rethink Mental Illness, has called for a radical overhaul of the care system. The report suggests that too much money is being spent on secure care – the most expensive form of care – and more should be invested in prevention and community support

The report states that there should be more widespread use of community-based "recovery houses" and a redirection of funding from secure units into early intervention services.

"It's been over 100 years since the term schizophrenia was first coined, but care and treatment are still nowhere near good enough.

"It is a scandal that in 2012 people with schizophrenia are dying 15-20 years earlier than the general population and that only 7% are able to get a job. Too many people are falling through the gaps in the system and ending up in prison or homeless.

"Developing ideal treatments might take time, but there are things which can be done today which could transform lives. More money does need to be spent – but the funding that already exists could also be used much more effectively.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2012/nov/14/catastrophic-failings-schizophrenia-care


In a nutshell mental health care is a fucking disgrace. I have been in several secure units (as a visitor)and it's so sad. The whole thing can be organised much better and Government after Government has neglected this. Cutting funding for the past 30 years until now we have so many mentally ill people in the community not getting the care they need.

It's with drugs, alcohol, mental illness and costs the country more in dealing with the consequences than it would if they aimed for good treatments and early prevention.

For fucks sake Britain. What the fuck are you doing?

So there you have it. No jokes, No laughing. No self centredness. Just full scale sadness and anger. It's a big bad fucking world out there people with some awful shit going on. The key is. What am i going to do about it? Think on Evans. There must be something.

xx