Day 350 - Sun 30th Dec - Only 2 blogs to go of 2012

Oh My God. Where did the time go? Only 2 blogs left of 2012. This is the penultimate blog of the year. I have written every day. One of the only things I have consistently done every day in my life other than blink and moan. Remarkable.

As we end the year it's a good time to reflect. 2012 has been spectacular, painful, beautiful, hard, memorable and insane all rolled into one. It has been a tough year. The best of times. The worst of times. Never dull (well maybe some days) Always interesting.

The human experience continues. We move forward as one. Marching together on our little journey of life. I salute every single one of you who has followed this blog. I know there are a handful of people who have read it every day. I'm with you. I must be getting sentimental in my old age as it actually makes me feel quite emotional.

Knowing that you would have experienced ups and downs. Good times and bad in your life makes me feel rather connected. Although I have been writing it every day. Making it part of my daily routine, you reading it and making it part of your routine too makes me kind of humble. Means we're in it together. Your experiences would have been similar or worse or better but it means that we are connected and that means a lot to me. (old fool I am)

The blog has changed and grown over the year. I started off with the sole intention of using it as a training diary for the marathon as a springboard for change. To see if I could run a sub 3 hour 30 marathon. To see if i would change my habits of doing just enough to push myself. To alter the nature of my actions. Ultimately i didn't but out of it I continued the blog every day and it has helped me become a better writer, connect with more people and find something in life that I'm good at and enjoy. It has been an interesting journey of being a man in a modern world, on the growing pains of being a 40 year old Kid and a recovering alcoholic. It has provided me with invaluable discipline, something I sorely lack.

We've all got to have passions, interests, things that mean something to us on a deep level. Mine is writing, sharing my inner most thoughts, my fears, my inner voice, my passions and letting them out. Sometimes it has been uncomfortable reading. My inner voice is mostly negative and that can sometimes dominate my writing.

Having said that if I step outside of myself for one minute. If I'm dispassionate and objective and view the facts. Not to taint it with my negative self critical head - The blog has been rather good. I'm proud of the writing, content, the topics and productivity. I like it and if I didn't know me would still be rather interested in it.

It has been really fun to catalogue some of the moments of the year. In no particular order these have been the moments of the year/blog that make me smile/cry/laugh/remember/happy/sad;

• Committing to writing a blog every day and doing it. Nothing makes me quite as happy as actually doing something.
• Spending lots of time in Llanelli with my Nan as she got more ill. It gave me a chance to see the place i was born, get to know my Nan more and appreciate her life and character
• The only way is Lanelli
• London Marathon Day - always an awesome experience
• My friends relapse and subsequent blooming recovery from a seemingly hopeless situation - life affirming
• The 2012 'Lympics - Pure gold in every way
• Peachs' B-B-Q and subsequent friends gatherings - I have some awesome pals. Feels good to hang out with friends.
• Turning 11 years sober - I really can't believe it - Is that really me? People don;t really understand I know I used to be a total drunk nightmare.
• Doing a Tesco Mobile TV commercial and getting 100's of messages from people who saw me - good for the ego and bank balance. Though people who don't know me very well think I'm an actor now
• The continued growth of Comedy Chops - i like my comedy club and actually have faith in it now, people keep coming and keep saying they like it - they're the guvnors at the end of the day
• My niece turning 21 - All grown up how did that happen it seems like only yesterday I was taking her to the Smash Hits Xmas Party at the 02.
• Watching the jubilee in Llanelli with my Mum, Nan and family in her nursing home.
• Raising £3k for Action on Addiction - Makes me look like such a good human being and means I get a special god moral community chest card to act badly guilt free for a month after it - like a moral freedom pass
• My Nan's passing in June and the subsequent funeral an end of an era, such a wonderful woman and the baton of Welsh matriarch passed on to my mother
• Turning 40 and my Pub Idle birthday party - genuinely touched by my friends and people I know being so ultra groovy
• Singing 2 Elvis songs with a proper band - what's there not to love about that?
• The descent of a family member into mental illness. Heart breaking and emotional
• Jack Daniels - Those who know are still scratching their heads. Insane
• Losing my job in the city - skint but happier
• Getting 4 articles published on a website and getting ace feedback. The Day is was Barred from Bikram Yoga, My guide to alcoholism, My Fathers death and Blokes Guide to Bikram. I liked them
• The world not ending on 21st December - Bonus

Phew, not a bad list really. The ups and downs of a year. Some good, some bad, some emotional some happy. It's all happened. I've changed in many respects and not in others. Looking back I will be proud of 2012. Of what I achieved. Of what I've done. It;s like one of those montage clips of reviews of the year with emotional backing music.

I honour the ones we have lost. All my readers who have experienced loss or grief or illness i send you big hugs along the way. I love you all today. I love what we are, what we can be. Some of us feel isolated and lonely and that no-one understands. Some of us are happy and joyous and full of family and love. We are all in varying situations but nothing lasts for ever. The world and time always moves on. Bad times pass as do good. It is our human experience.

I have felt a stronger faith this year, seeing my Nan slowly fade away through cancer and not moan or feel sorry for herself was a moving experience. Seeing all my friends grow and build has been a joy. Seeing people close to me find sobriety and rebuild their lives and families has been beautiful. Hearing people connect with my writing and thoughts has been a source of inspiration.

Growing into the man i want to be is hard. Men have a difficult place in the world at the moment. We are being overtaken by technology and skin care products. We are confused between our ancestry Neanderthal man and modern metro sexual. We need to find our place. It is a difficult journey us blokes face.

2012 is a strange time in our history. Modern technology is racing ahead. Touch screen computers, tablets, HDTV, 3D. The world is changing so fast. We are in the middle of the worst financial crisis probably ever and people are falling like flies. Suicide, depression, addiction, illness, poverty. All of these things worry me. All of these a concern.

I don't have the answers. The only thing I can do is take responsibility of myself. Of my actions. To call it as i see it and try to plot my journey the best I can.

Will I settle down? Have kids? Produce a family? Be happy? At 40 years old I should have done this by now. But what is the word should? I have plenty of time to do that when I'm ready. I've followed Nan's orders in getting a short back and sides, so her request of 'when are you going to settle down?' is slowly coming. All in Godspeed hey?

In short I believe in something better. I believe that things are OK. I trust in the future and in God. If anyone is worried. Let me tell you. I don't know why. I don't have any evidence to back it up. Richard Dawkins would probably have a field day and destroy me but you know what?

I think we're going to be OK.

End
x

Day 349 - Sat 29th Dec - Spiritual Progress Rather than Spiritual perfection

I have learnt many things this year during the writing of this blog. Nobody is perfect. We are not saints. We are all having a human experience. Some good, some bad.

For me I do f**k loads of wrong things, f**k loads of good things and many in between. It's called being human. I suppose some people are more bad than others and vice versa. But do I really have a right to judge?

If I judge people for their wrongs I'm on dangerous ground. Do I then conveniently forget all the dodgy stuff I've done in my life? I judge all the time. Mostly without even knowing I do it. 1st impressions, what people look like, what they say, do. I judge far too much and need to stop, think and rely on my 2nd thought.

Do i then maximize the good things i do in my life to create a false image of me as a really good egg to cover the bad things I do? That's called doing an 'Armstrong'. A tried and trusted tactic that invariably works. At least for sometime. It will come back to haunt you. 'What goes around comes around' seems to hold some kind of truth.

I've done that this year. I guess we all do to some extent. But in this blog I have talked about many of the good things I do, the fund raising, helping others. alcoholism, helping homeless etc - mostly because It's what I feel morally obliged to do but in other ways to present myself as a good guy so people will think well of me. That's vain egotistical selfishness. That's a part of me I don't like. Part of me is that shallow. Why be so concerned with what others think of you? It's essentially pointless.

This year I have missed out some of the bad stuff. It's not awful but I have chosen not to write about it publicly. Either things i have done, said or thought. Selective honesty. Even in this blog it's easy to create an image of someone I choose to be. I have yet to find the courage to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Maybe one day I will.

What the f***k am I talking about you maybe wondering? Here's an example.

I have a member of my family who I will not disclose too much detail or information about as I learnt long ago it is not fair for me to talk about others in this blog publicly. I can talk about myself but others is not on unless they give permission. This family member is an alcoholic (By their own admission not mine as it is not for me to say if they are or not - that's the drill) and bi polar manic depressive.

Their behaviour over a number of years has been systematically shocking, hurtful, selfish, morally wrong, deceitful, violent, nasty, spiteful and saddening. They have consistently abused the family and me and it has been waring and made me angry.

Their behaviour has dominated the family. Most discussions over the years on the phone or on family occasions have centred around this family member. So much so that my 40th birthday meal was taken up mostly by everyone talking about them. It made me sad, angry and pissed off. What about me!

I have grown to resent this family member and hate them. Wishing sometimes they would die to stop the relentless pain and consistent insanity. (I feel terrible admitting that)

I have had arguments and fights with other family members who have seemed to be taken by their spell and consistently allowed themselves to be hurt by them. It has been a long painful road. I have judged others in my family and tried to get them to see it my way. I now understand that to be wrong. Everyone is entitled to their own way. Another fault of mine. Lack of acceptance of others.

Recently I said 'enough is enough' and turned my back on them. For years I have lived in their Shadow. Feeling less than them. They have taken great delight to twist the knife into my worries and weak spots. Using things I have shared with them against me to gain an intellectual one up man ship. Proper sick behaviour. Not loving but hateful in my opinion.

I have judged them, told others to avoid them. I have tried many times with the olive branch but in the end I had to say 'au revoir'. They give me nothing and how long can you tolerate sickness on a grand scale. They have feigned HIV, stolen money, held everyone emotional hostage, threatened me with death, physically and verbally attacked. How much is enough?

And so it came to this week. I reflected on the situation. I have judged them. I have put them down in my head. This is easy to do. Of course you can present the facts and most would rule on your side. You can present them in a way where it can be judged 'they are bad and have done all that stuff so you are quite right to feel that way'. I now know that is playing the victim. Listing all their harms and bolstering my moral superiority. I hate that in others and i hate that in me. Ugly behaviour and one I vow to stop.

But what of the real deeper facts. What is the truth? Yes they have done all those things but am I really in a position to judge? I have lied, cheated, stolen, hurt throughout my life. I just wrap it up better and have more of a heavy heart. Not to the extent they do but in the same family. So who am i to judge?

And what of my feeling less than this family member? That's my gear not theirs. Nobody makes you feel anything I do that all by myself. That's for me to work out and make myself feel better not others. I can pin the blame on that to my family member. It's on me and my low self esteem that one.

I can't blame the actions of others on me and my behaviour. I am responsible for myself., Anything else is just playing the blame game or victim. Judging others is playing the moral judge and superior. Not a great place to be and one without even knowing it I have taken over them for years.

It has only just come to light this week. Strangely when I was watching Homeland and one of the main characters plays a bi polar manic depressive really well and has a manic episode. It is acted so so well and it made me think of my family member. It made me think i have been so judgmental and ignorant to Manic depression and it's side effects.

They have untreated bi polar for many years on top of alcoholism which has made their behaviour off the scale. Mad in many respects and difficult to deal with but this made me sad for them that they live in the madness instead of getting it treated daily with medication and strong family unit. It's a shame.

It made me have more empathy for their condition and made me embarrassed by my moral judgment all this time. I am no better. I am no worse. I am me,. They are them. Sickness and all.

Obviously we have to protect ourselves and people have a responsibility to themselves to treat illnesses. The tough questions are what do you do if a person refuses to believe or get help for bi polar or alcoholism? Do you let them continually destroy you and the family? It's heart breaking particularly for a parent but you have to protect yourself and learn to let go. The behaviour of those two illnesses is incredible and the damage immense. I have the utmost respect for both conditions.

So I arrived at a feeling of empathy for this family member. I can't imagine living with something like bi polar that makes you either massively manic and insane or chronically low so you cannot get out the house. It must be hard.

In order to grow as a human and practice what I preach I can no longer afford to be judgmental. I also need to learn more about illnesses and people before I form an opinion. I am not to be a doormat for people who are ill to use as an excuse to behave badly but I need to help if I can and not be such a morally superior dick about things. Nobody likes a know it all. And if you know it all, what else is there to know? End of journey.

I'm not sure why I'm writing about this today. I guess it's coming to the end of the year. One tends to reflect at this time, over the next few days. It is always a time of the year to look back and look forward. To reflect on where you are, what you are. what you want to do and where you want to go.

I'm not into wanky resolutions, but I see the value in setting personal goals. I take faith and confidence from setting out my objective to write every day this year and I have. I must also look to improve and change.

I'm not saying that i will become saintly and good. I think the Arch Bishop of Canterbury is safe for another year. I still have the devil in me and the capacity to hurt others and act selfishly and wrong is still inside me.

But I have a desire to change, to grow, to move forward and be a better man. A better human. We are not saints. We are on a journey of spiritual progress. At least i am, trouble is I only remember that for around 5 days a year. Today is one of those. #Reflective.

xx

Day 348 - Fri 28th Dec - Yoghurt flavoured Ice Cream

Sometimes this daily blog has covered topical subjects. Sometimes it's been dull. Sometimes it's been funny and poignant. Sometimes it's been euphoric. Sometimes it's been a pain in the arse. Writing a daily blog in 2012 has been a challenge. I wrote at the beginning on day 1 it would be a journey, it would be honest. Some days it would be dull as that's what everyday life is and other days full of passion. I have covered a range of subjects that are important to me. I have covered a range of historic world moments through my own eyes. I have bared my soul. My inner demons. My negative inner voice, my fears,. my worries, my aspirations.

So much so that sometimes I have run out of things to say. The well has run dry on more than one occasion, but sometimes, just sometimes things pop up that I just can't get my head around. Something that just cannot be explained. Something so weird. Something that makes me so disproportionately angry it beggars belief.

That came today when I spied a menu for deserts at a restaurant and spotted the very thing that gets me going. Sod world poverty, social injustice, global warming and double dip recession. Yogurt flavoured Ice cream caught my attention today and I didn't like it.

Yogurt flavoured Ice Cream? Firstly whats the point? They are two rivalling food groups. Similar things. It's like hot dog flavoured burgers. Jacket potato flavoured crisps. What a waste of time. Who the f***k first came up with the idea? It's wrong.

If you want yogurt have yogurt. If you fancy ice cream have ice cream, why would you want ice cream that tastes of a healthy alternative. Ridiculous. OK I admit it's not exactly the worst thing in the world to get riled about and I'm sure many people enjoy it. But I can't think for the life of me why it exists. TurkeyHam. OK I get the point (just) But yogurt Ice cream I just can't get. It's just wrong. It's food incest. Cousins mating. Yogurt and ice cream are part of the same family and putting them together is a mutation of taste. The consequences are unthinkable. I bet they made it in Cornwall.

I can understand nearly every other flavour of ice cream because they are not rivals or alternatives. Bakewell Tart, rum and raisin, chocolate etc. Bring them all on. These are all flavours I welcome with open arms. Don't get me wrong nobody loves ice cream more than me. I love the stuff. Yogurt too. Greek, Total, full fat, fruit flavoured, runny, set. Whatever i don't mind I love it. But added together? As one. Dirty bastards.

Peter Kay did a whole routine out of Garlic Bread & Cheesecake. But yogurt Ice cream has been overlooked. It's far worse than any of the other bastardisations of food. It should be illegal. These clever bastard chefs have gone too far this time. Cereal tasting bread. Sausages tasting of bacon. Eggs that taste like spunk. What on earth next? Where will it end. It's all wrong.

Having said all that, in the name of research I had to order it. Tasted gorgeous. Love it. It's the future. It maybe all wrong but it tastes bastard good. Nice one weird genius chef thing. Now if only you can make my spunk taste of lager I'd never have to leave the house again

(What do you expect me to end on? Something clever, witty and sharp? Of course not I'm a crass, base blokey bloke. That's the best I can do today. The well runneth dry)

PS It's still pissing down, still no mans land after Xmas and between New Year and £1.8billion has been spent on the sales. Weird scenes inside the goldmine)

xx

Day 347 - Thurs 27th Dec - No mans Land - That bit between Xmas & New Year

It's raining. Again. The wettest Christmas I can remember. The country's on flood alert and the grey, damp weather seeps into your soul. The Turkey is eaten. The presents are gone. The hype is over. Xmas has passed. The belt is a notch wider. It's that weird time between Xmas and New Year when you're not quite sure what to do.

Some go back to work (yuk), some visit family for their umpteenth Xmas feed, some can't wait to get away on a break, others just spend time at home or with family. The obscene Boxing day shopping frenzy continues so I'm staying way out of that one. I just want to jet off to a beach somewhere. Best have a word with the Job Centre, see if they can sort me out with a New Year Break?

I woke up with a heavy cold, awful candida (my fault all the Xmas sweets and overeating), a pulled left hamstring, a sore lower back and a fresh pulled muscle in my middle back. In short if I was a pet I'd say put me down. I'm falling apart. Gutted.

Obviously coupled with the the weather and the perma bloatendess that comes from a British Xmas I was a proper miserable bastard. My mood was lower than a whores draws. GGGrrrrrrr. This year started off with so much enthusiasm and fired up and it appears to be ending with a whimper. I best man up and have a word with myself.

I missed out on Boxing day yesterday, being so good and saintly and all. So I am declaring today Boxing day. Meaning I'm going to do what I want to do and eat cold cuts. I visited the osteopath for treatment, went to the gym (sauna), cycled whilst watching a sentimental afternoon Xmas film (secretariat), read my books I received for Xmas (love em) and went to the cinema to watch a crappy Hollywood blockbuster (Jack Reacher)

As the day progressed and my pain and self pity diminished I felt better and in the end was pretty chirpy. Obviously this didn't stop me gorging on Toblerone and Popcorn late at night (fuck it, it's Christmas right?) But all in all it was a decent day.

I started out homicidal/suicidal and ended it docile. Not a bad day in the scheme of things.

It really is No Mans land this time. I really want to bugger off for a week in the sun. I tell myself 'it's for writing purposes', which is a load of bollocks. It's for me purposes. Do i really need a week of sun to get my head straight for 2013. To give myself time and space to list what I need to do? Of course not.

Can i do that here? Is it putting things off again? Truth is shit needs to be done and it isn't going to be done on a beach in Dubai. Having said that I think holidays are a good thing and can make you refreshed and healthy ready to do what you need. it certainly helped at the start of they year - this daily blog is a direct result of it so good things can come out of having time and space away to think.

Basically I'm undecided. I've realised I am so indecisive it's ridiculous. Cowboy boots or timberland's? Leather jacket or long coat? Yoga or gym? Run or cycle? Anal or normal? The list goes on. It's paralysing and frustrating.

One of the joys of no mans land though is doing nothing in particular without any guilt or stress you should be doing something. One of those joys is reading the books you were given for Xmas. I'm quite old school in that I like the physical feel of books. It gives me pleasure having something in my hand other than my balls. Kindles are one of the biggest sellers this Xmas but i prefer an actual book.

I was bought the New Rankin book, The David Walsh investigation into Lance Armstrong, a self help book called 'Stop thinking Start doing' (very apt) and the Richard Burton Diaries. A superb and eclectic choice. I am 200 pages into the Lance Armstrong investigation (I'm hooked, pun intended) and flicking through the Richard Burton diaries. The man is my hero. I so wish I was him;

Here is my favourite quote so far;

"At about 12 Noon this same day I did something beyond outrage. I bought Elizabeth the jet plane we flew in yesterday. It costs, brand new $960,000. She was not displeased."
30th September 1967

Legendary. One can only dream of being so magnificently flawed, spectacularly clever, talented and Welsh. Heroic in my eyes. I shall read on with interest.

Enjoy Nomania

x

Day 346 - Weds 26th Dec - Boxing Day - Crisis at Xmas!

Boxing day is pretty pointless isn't it? Talk about after the lord mayors show. The glory day is over. Everyone had enough of family and eating and now it's time to visit yet more family and try to summon the enthusiasm for Xmas celebrations.

Today was really busy on the roads. Loads of people going to Westfield. Fuck me, the shops were shut for 24 hours and everyone is itching to get back out and spend again. The frenzy of Xmas buying is no sooner ended than people are eager for more in the sales. It's obscene.

Shopping online on Xmas day? What the fuck. Now people were queueing overnight for the shops to open at 6am. Police were called to shopping malls to handle the crush of people. What the fuck is wrong with us? Do we not have better things to do? Do we really need anything more after Christmas? It's fucking ridiculous. Do we need stuff that badly? Do we really need to save 30%? is 24 hours away from shopping too much? Consumer sheep the lot of em! Makes me sad.

I get that being couped up all day eating and drinking and feeling shit means you want to get out. Put replace that with being in a packed shopping centre, queuing in the car, then at the shop, then at the till with other people feeling the same as a day to celebrate the festive period. We really have lost our way here haven't we? Fuck me, the shops will stop at anything to drum up trade. I understand shopping is a release, a relaxation, a leisure pursuit. Buying stuff makes you feel good. Getting a bargain is an adrenaline surge - but fuck me people let's see through the multi million corporate retailers. They are treating us like sheep. We're better than that. Surely?

Apart from me ranting about moronic consumer sales sheep. Today was all about Crisis at Xmas. Oh god I've turned into one of those middle class boneheads who volunteers 4 hours of his precious selfish time to help out the homeless, develops a conscience and feels morally superior to the rest of society until it wears off and he goes back to being a materialistic consumerist selfish hypocritical cunt. Hate those people. Hello Nick.

Yes this afternoon I was at Crisis. I gave up 4 hours of my precious time (reluctantly) in order to do a good turn. Obviously my head was in full motion in the morning. "Bad back, man flu, leg hurts, you did you're bit yesterday. Cancel. There will be plenty of other people." It was trying to talk me out of it. Just like it does for most things. i told it to shit up and on I went. What the fuck is 4 hours?

Now for any overseas readers we have people in this country called 'homeless'. That's people without homes. Most of them are viewed upon by society, particularly ones who read the Daily Mail, as idle alcoholic scum who can;t be bothered getting a job. They are looked down on and have a lower social standing in this country than Tory MP's.

Crisis is a charity that supports the homeless and at Christmas over 5 days, sources 8 venues (my one was Hammersmith College) and provides shelter, facilities, food, entertainment, clothes, hairdressing, medical, music, support and advice to people who don''t have access to that throughout the year.

I was part of the team of volunteers from AA who go in for the afternoon, speak to people if they have a problem with alcohol and pass on any help you can. There is also a meeting if people want to come, in truth hardly anyone does but if you can plant the seed that there is a place to go to stop drinking then it would have done it's job.

We had a stall with a bowl of Quality Street, presumably as a bargaining tool to get some people over. In truth we would have been better served with a load of cans of special brew, but that would have been appropriate.

Most of the old school hardcore homeless are years into drinking problems and don;t want any help on that score. it's damage limitation and just a question of how long they can last. Some keep going for years, institutionalised just like my father. Death will come to them eventually. Just a matter of when. It's pretty heart breaking to see but not a thing you can do. I chatted to a couple of the old boys, one of which clad all in red. His name was Jim, although he said he was Santa. He had a huge swollen leg and when i asked him how he got it, he said 'Fell down the chimney'. I love the macabre humour of the real alcoholic. Again it reminded me of my Father as did Jim's ever so slightly arrogant nature. Only true alcoholics can look down on people from the gutter.

I got talking to a few of the 'clients'. One guy had a wicked pair of cowboy boots on. We gravitated towards each other as i was wearing mine. His were better and more expensive. topped off with a yellow suit and silver tie. People outside of convention really cut loose and i admire it very much.

I'd rather have been speaking to him than with the plankton in Westfield. Cunts.

I spoke to a guy who lived in car park and did TV extra work. He started telling me about the history of kilts and how we are all being brainwashed by X Factor. he had a point.

It made me think how little I know. How valid people who are homeless are. Just because of their look or circumstance doesn't mean to say they are not clever, or funny or real. They are humans just like the rest of us. It made me see that today. I mean don't get me wrong some are hardened alcoholics and don't want help. Some are mentally ill and need help. Some are perfectly normal people who have taken wrong turns. Some are genius.

It's bollocks and condescending for me to say that though. Who the fuck am I to provide social commentary on the homeless because I did 4 hours. Is this the point where I'm supposed to say how much it made me realise how lucky I am? How grateful I am?

All I thought was talk and learn. We are all the same. Just that my clothes are clean and his were not. And what does it matter if you've got a new car. That's on HP anyway. So you work 5 days a week in an office to pay for the home, car and trips to Westfield? Whoop fucking doo. Does that make us part of life? Superior? More knowledgable. I didn't. I felt humbled. I felt less than in fact. That I dare moan and botch and complain about me and my life. In some way I felt ashamed.

In some ways the homeless tell the real truth, They are the real heroes. Living outside of convention. Not being part of the 18 million sheep watching the X factor final. I can learn lessons from everyone. Them included.

I spoke at length to a guy called Ron, he was in a wheelchair and I had to stoop down to talk to him. He had spinal injuries after a motorbike crash, so my moan about my bad back was straight out of the window. Fuck I have nothing to moan about now. Bollocks. He had Cancer too and we had a good chat. The main thing that came out of it was he didn't like his Somalian carers. Not a subject I had too much experience in.

We chatted for about 15 minutes before i had to tell him my back hurt and i had to stand and stretch it. To be fair Ron took this crass 'putting my foot in it' statement and replied with 'Wish i could'. Then we both fell about laughing, not literally of course otherwise Ron would have been in a world of trouble. Fucked if I could pick him up with my back and he didn;t stand a chance. Is that in bad taste? Ron wouldn't think so but abled bodied would. If you think it is fuck you i was the one there talking to him today so I earned the right to crack a bad taste joke becuase he liked it.

It made me think. You have to treat people as equals. Not pussy foot around. I think that's why i felt quite at home there. Though it's easy to say that when I could bugger off in 4 hours.

There were some real volunteers their who dedicate their lives to helping others. These are the real heroes in my eyes and it made me feel pretty chipper about human nature in this country, There are plenty of real people with real heart.

I was amazed at the set up. Cinema, crafts room, entertainments room, hairdressers, treatment room, advice centre, karaoke, chill out area. I wanted to book in for Christmas. I was asked several times if I was the hairdresser or entertainment. Must have been my look. They looked slightly disappointed when I said i was with AA. Almost the look of 'oh i thought you were alright until you said that, Poor you'. We AA's are looked on as weirdos by the mainstream. "It's OK to kip in a doorway and drink special brew for breakfast but you wouldn't see me dead in an AA meeting. I'm not that bad"

There's a kind of twisted logic to that. I understand it.

So I left Crisis at around 5pm and headed to my Niece's for post Xmas present giving. Then to a meeting and then home. I must have earned fuck loads of Karma vouchers today. Guilt abated. Karma points won. Now I can misbehave for ages without any guilt at all. Isn't that why everyone does Charity work? Now what is the number for that Thai massage parlour? It's for my back you see. Freaking hurts.

See you at Westfield at 6am

xx

Day 345 - Tues 25th Dec - Christmas Day!

It's Christmas!!!!! (Said in the style of Noddy Holder) - (Well it was yesterday as I'm writing this on Boxing day)

All the hype, the wait, the expectation, the build up is over. It's Christmas. It's here. It's now. It's today. Merry Christmas everyone. I hope you have a good one.

Some people have terrible Christmas'. Bad memories or are just on their own. Some people's are full of families and love. Horses for courses I guess. In truth it's just another day. It's got the same amount of minutes as every other day of the year but obviously there is a special meaning to it.

Sometimes the true meaning of the day gets lost. I think it's important not to forget it's identity and history and significance. Whats that I hear you say? It's presents of course. What  am I going to get? Me. What about me. What am I going to get?

Midnight mass. Tick. Turn up for family. Tick. Birth of Jesus. Tick. Smoked salmon for breakfast. Tick. Festive knitwear. Tick. Say all the right things. Tick. Be humble and grateful. Tick. Think of those worse off than yourself. Tick. But come on lets face it - when are we going to do the presents? Is that big sack for me?

Here's the standard Christmas Day;

Upon Awakening

Wake up a little late. Obviously those with young children will have been to bed late playing Santa and await their over excited children waking them up at 4am screaming, 'He's been,' Those without young children will be enjoying a long leisurely lay in, drinkers will be nursing an extra ordinary  hangover.

I woke at 9am with the dreaded man lurgy sounding like Barry White chewing gravel. Nuts. Merry Christmas Nicholas. I was in the spare bedroom and my Mum had laid out the towel, mini shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, shaving gel and electric toothbrush. It was full 5 star service in this house. No breakfast in bed though, which was noted and I shall place that on 'customer feedback' when I leave.

Christmas Morning

For young families the house then resembles something similar to Helman Province in Afghanistan. Chaos and things everywhere. Kids rushing around screaming playing with toys and people all over the shop. Things were a little gentler with 3 of us. The calls started at 9.30am. Neices, aunties, brothers, families, friends.

Most people like to start the day off with a glass of champagne and smoked salmon. Others with a can of special brew. I decided to go for the World record Xmas Tea drinking record and already had 5 cups under my belt by 10.30am. A solid start.

Presents before breakfast or after? Leave them until later on or do them now? Some people even employ the 'one present rule'. Where everyone has to unwrap one after the other in full view of the others. This can take ages and the pressure is on for your reaction. Get a howler and you have to put on the fake smile and say 'oh it's lovely thank you very much before immediately mentally rejecting it and thinking who you can pass it onto next.

I'm more in favour of tucking in and going for broke. Then again i lack finesse & patience in just about every other area of my life so why would presents be any different. We tucked in. My Mum is really careful unwrapping, taking ages peeling off corners whereas I open it in around 0.5seconds unwrapping it like a scotch egg when you haven't eaten for a year. Frenzied.

I am exceptionally lucky, I got loads of ace presents. Money towards a new laptop (for my writing), some excellent books (need a holiday now to go and read them), loads of stopping smoking kit (message loud and clear) pants and socks (obligatory for a man), some cool stuff to wear, (Lynx Deodorant boxset (YYYYEEESSSSSS!!!) Quality smellies, some running stuff, a Xmas annual and comedy books for the khazi. (every man needs funny books for taking a shit too it's standard at Xmas)

How lucky am I? So many lovely gifts though I noticed there was no Ipad Mini. Another thing for the 'customer feedback'. Not that I'm ungrateful (joke)

By the time the presents are done, calls made, breakfast scoffed and you come up for air that's the morning done. It's now midday and time for lunch. The next event of the day. Obviously as a guest i had to do totally nothing apart from listen to the chefs slightly bicker at how long to leave the potatoes in to crisp up. God I love being a guest. Anything that involves doing bugger all is alright in my book.

Despite the onslaught of man flu and a dodgy back I went out for a small trot to road test my new running gloves and watch. I bid several people a 'Merry Christmas' as they looked at me thinking why are you running today? I passed 3 people dressed as elves, several couples weighed down with presents visiting in laws (I knew it was In laws as they had the look of dread and misery on their face) and a homeless guy wandering around (Kind of makes you think how fortunate you are really)

Then it was back home for a shower. I asked my Mum to shave my hairy back. (Grim I know) A real treat for her on Xmas day and then I wrote my blog as the hosts performed their culinary miracles in the kitchen. It was 2pm and time for lunch

Christmas lunch

The central point of the day. The Xmas feast. The celebratory banquet. Obviously most girls have been stressed to fuck. Getting up at 4am to put the massive Turkey in the oven. Or if you're on your own placing the Xmas meal for 1 in the microwave whilst considering when you should kill yourself.  I like my brother's style. Getting everything from M&S and banging it on the oven. Ready made. The lazy guide to Xmas.

We had Chicken prepared by me Ma and her lovely man. Pistachio stuffing, M&S cranberry & orange stuffing balls which were so grim I reckon the homeless would say 'I'm full thanks', delicious crispy parsnips & roast potatoes and then my Mum kept my Nan's welsh woman traditions going by nuking the veg so they we're melt in your mouth. Almost like Brussels sprout truffles which was remarkable. A real joy I must say,

Incredibly i didn't over eat and enjoyed a fine lunch. Resisting the temptation for 2nd's, 3rd's and 4th's. I'd done all my Xmas overeating and wanted to feel fresh for the drive back to London later.

Post Lunch

This is the twilight period of the day. 4pm - 7pm. This is when the body shuts down and the adrenaline slows. The calories have dulled all the senses and the only thing you're good for is laying down, a crap film or a coma. There follows the inevitable mid to late afternoon kip in front of the tellie. Christmas wouldn't be the same without the doze. A deep noisy catatonic food induced sleep where the body fails to digest the massive calorie and stodge intake yet the head insists the body's still hungry for more.

Some people choose to eat later, around 5 or 6pm. Usually Goose. Don't trust these people. They are either ultra busy having to visit such a wide circle of family or friends or they are far too middle class to eat around Queens speech time. It fucks with tradition as where on earth can you fit in the afternoon nap? It's rather controversial.

I felt decidedly knackered and could have cheerfully gone to bed for a few hours. In the midst of the Xmas lunch I pulled a muscle in my back, adding to my lower back injury, pulled left hamstring and the man flu.

It must have been in the rather over enthusiastic pull of the Xmas cracker and laughing at the incredible jokes inside. Clearly I'm falling apart and my first time I've ever been injured during Xmas lunch. Ironman triathlons, marathons and endurance events are a piece of piss. Xmas lunch and wallop. Injured. Shoot me now.

I couldn't settle in for the night though as it was time to drive back to London to do my good deed for the day, Service at an AA meeting.

I didn't want to do it and wanted so much to cancel and lay horizontal for the rest of the day. But off i went, loaded up with painkillers, and went to the evening meeting to greet a load of alcoholics and give my little bit back for the day.

There is not much that I feel strongly about or that defines me as a Man but alcoholism does. Today would have been my Father's 68th birthday and as he died such a classic alcoholic death it always means something to me to do service for AA on Xmas day. It makes me feel good and it feels right to do, even though i didn't want to. I thought about all the times he rang his Sister on Xmas day crying down the phone that he was on his own. Locked in alcoholism. So for me It means a lot to help people get over the disease.

In the end it connected me, made me feel grateful for what I had received and had today and gave me a sense of perspective. All my bullshit thinking, negativity, internal dialogue, ingratitude. All melted away in the meeting and connected me. Like I was being charged up again. Nice. Thanks AA. You're a little life saver.

So that was another Xmas day. Not amazing. Not terrible. I gave and received. I drank 14 cups of tea - a full 68 short of the record, I spent time with loved ones. I spoke to everyone I needed to. I am sober. I have a loving family. I got some great gifts (even if none included an Ipad Mini) so what have I got to complain about? Nothing really. I'm a lucky boy. Yes I really did say that. Weird huh?

Merry Christmas everyone. I hope you had a good one

xx

Day 344 - Mon 24th Dec - Twas The Day before Christmas - Er Xmas Eve

Christmas Eve. A classic day on the calendar. Traditionally a day for all women/Mothers to do everything and all the blokes/fathers to start their Christmas shopping

It's important blokes don't leave it too late. Starting around mid afternoon after a pub lunch, a couple of pints of Lownbrau and then go and get their women that special gift, (Windowleen or something). That's of course if you want the relationship to end.

It's a funny old day. Everyone finishing off, preparing, getting last minute stuff, travelling to loved ones. There is always a slight hint of panic slash stress in the air. The expectation of tomorrow looming. Some people really love it, some can't stand all the hype and build up. I fall somewhere between the two. If you don't have any kids or responsibilities like me, sometimes it's better to bugger off somewhere warm and just let it pass. I do love the whole build up, gifts and message of sharing/love and giving but if I'm honest I'd rather be in my budgie smugglers supping on a diet coke paddling around in the ocean.

Last year was Dubai, this year it's Fleet. Same amount of letters. Different vibe.

Xmas Eve began with present wrapping in the morning, some were so awfully put together it looked like they'd been kicked around the playground a few times. Then I visited a couple of people, picked a couple of things up, cycled the past 4 Xmas lunches off and it was time to leave for my Mothers.

London was quiet. The shops and roads empty. I love London at this time of the year as everyone buggers off. It's how i think London should be. I guess it shows how many people are not from London. But it makes the city superb. You can drive around, it's easy to park. Everything is more accessible and it looks stunning.

No matter how much i complain about it though I do love London and leaving it is a culture shock. Fleet is like night of the living dead in comparison. So quiet.

I got to my Mother's mid afternoon in time for tea. She had cooked an army of mince pies. Covering the fridge and half the kitchen. However I was more interested in the table snacks of Walnuts and Chinese Rice crackers. I love seasonal nuts. I'll be in a world of pain later. Can never resist those table snacks though. Very Mum and very Xmas.

Then it was time for a catch up and as she cooked dinner I sat quietly, listening to Magic FM Xmas songs, eating Walnuts and felt calm, peaceful and contented. I liked it. It was nice.

This was followed with a dinner of Gammon. Apparently traditional on Xmas Eve and we then went to midnight mass (at 10pm) - The time was weird but I think it's either to attract more people or make sure the pissed up don't come in from the pub and ruin it with drunken heckling. We've all done it in our guilty past. Oh just me then is it?.

First i was given my Xmas treat. We drove past a House in Fleet which has gone full on with the lights. Extraordinary. A full display with the whole house and garden covered. Mental. They've done it for charity with a little box out the front so they neighbours can't complain. Genius tactic. Three cars stopped to look. I was impressed. A real Xmas treat. It was really lovely slash disturbing.

Insert pic

Finally to Midnight mass at my Mum's church. Not my thing but I knew she wanted to do it, so that's what you do at Xmas right? For love and support. Her partner suggested we get there 20 minutes before the carol service at 9.40pm to get a seat. We were the first there, beating the vicar and choir. Keen or what? Still at least we bagged top front row seats ready for the action.

It was an Anglican CE of E, new style church and it slowly started filling up with a collection of, shall i call them mature people, I brought the average age down by a good few years such was the age of the congregation.

Carols began at 10pm with a sombre choir signing strangely to the back and right of the congregation so you had to strain your neck to see them. They sounded beautiful but it had a slight touch of the melancholy about it.

Then the ceremony began, an hour's mass and if I'm honest it really didn't move me at all. A traditional, sombre silent joyless affair with so much long drawn out ceremony. It didn't grab me, move me or connect with me at all. I thought Xmas was about celebrating the birth of Christ (if you're into that thing of course) and the atmosphere in the church wasn't celebratory. I like my Churches to be old and awe inspiring. This one to me wasn't.

Having said that at least it was better than last time I attended midnight mass with my Mum. Granted that was 27 years ago. I was 13, it was 1985 and i was dressed in a grey suit with sleeves rolled up and diadora trainers (It was around the time of Miami Vice) - A powerful look. No socks of course. I fancied myself as the Don Johnson of Llanelli. Trouble is i looked more like Dom Joly.

We attended Midnight mass, obviously under duress as a 13 year old, traipsed in and when it was time to kneel for prayers I realised i had a massive lump of dog shit stuck to my trainers. It was everywhere, all over the velvet prayer step, the floor, the Pugh's, oh god it stunk and was all over the place. I went outside to scrape it off but it fucked the mass and strangely since then my luck has been dreadful.

I'm sure God doesn't like wanky little 12 year olds looking like knob heads in pastel coloured suits rubbing dog shit around his gaff in Diadora trainers. It's not very respectful. In my defence i didn't know it was there, but then again I chose to wear that suit. So I guess It's a fair cop.

Anyway, this Mass finally finished just after 11.30pm and off we filed. I was knackered after two consecutive days of 4 hours kip so the massive excitement of Xmas rather passed me by. I insisted my Mum opened a present when we got back. Unfortunately I got it wrong and her reaction was one of those classic underwhelmed but didn't want to say the truth looks.

I got her something she didn't want, so that's not a good start to Xmas is it? Lets hope the other presents I got her will invoke a better response tomorrow. Mind you no matter how well you wrap windoleen and dusters I'm not convinced she's going to be too happy.

Merry Xmas everyone. If you're reading this on Xmas day I hope you had a good one and I will publish my Xmas message on Boxing day.

Big love

xx

Day 343 - Sun 23rd Dec - Ho-Ho-Homeland

When you don't get to sleep until 6am it kind of ruins the next day. This is what happened today;

Woke up 10am - knackered, bloated, full, lethargic. 3 Christmas Dinners in 4 days has taken it's toll.

Ran 40 Min's - Knackered, back hurts, hamstring pulled. A wreck.

Filled with good intentions for the day. Go into Town, pick up some last minutes presents. The 23rd is when you really start to think you need more. More. More.More.

When i got to the shops I could feel the rising stress levels. Waitrose was just middle class bedlam. Cargo was carnage. It was horrible. There was nowhere to turn. So I did the only thing available to me. I turned round and went back home. Fuck today. It's officially cancelled. A Pre Christmas day off. I'm too tired to cope with the world. It's hibernation time.

I'm so full an afernoon/evening of Homeland Box Set and elasticated leisure slacks stretched out before me. Pun fully intended.

I couldn't wait to get home and slap on Homeland. I got in at 5pm (which is pretty much the end of a day on Sunday anyway when it gets dark it's time to hibernate) and immediately settled down on the sofa to mong (apologies for such an un PC term) and indulge in my new addiction.

If you are an addict with a new box set, clearly you need to find time to commit yourself to multiple episodes. You must cancel life for a little while. There is no point in grabbing the occassional episode. You have to jump in feet first and indulge yourself. If you find yourself enjoying something you want that feeling to continue, more and more to the detriment of everything else. I started on episode 3 and by the end of the night I had completed a further 2 discs (6 Episodes) to take me up to 9. Only three to go.

It takes commitment, determination and lots of tea to watch 6 back to back episodes. I took a break halfway through to write my blog, but returned for the second session. Obviously you constantly top up with tea to get you through the marathon, but after feeling as bloated as a balloon with helium, the Celebrations/Quality Street/Heroes/Maltesers accompaniment is out. Any more grazing on fatty/sugary stuff and it will be goodbye skinny jeans and hello elasticated Onsie.

I stayed wedged to the sofa for 6 hours. A proper shift. Hardly moving. It was a pain to get up. At times like this it would be amazing to have a butler, or a wife to tend to your needs. Instead I finished my marathon stint at 1am. All that laying around doing nothing makes you tired so i promptly fell asleep. Yes that's right I was so tired/lazy i couldn't even make it to bed.

Sorry about today. Very boring entry (so to speak) but that is what you get for pulling an all nighter out the bag. It fucks you the next day, or it does me. Now that I'm an old man my body can't seem to handle it any more. Thank god I don't drink. It wouldn't just be afternoons or evenings I'd spend monging. I'd lose whole weeks. At least that's something to celebrate. If only i could muster enough energy to do so. Flop n drop baby. That's what today is.

Can't believe it's Christmas Even tomorrow. (or today if you're reading this today)This is now the time I start to get really unChristmasy feeling/. The closer to the day it gets the less I feel it. Weird. But then again after 6 hours on the sofa I can't feel anything. Even blinking is an effort. Anyway musn't stop. I can't be wasting time writing down inane thoughts. Those last 3 episodes aren't going to watch themsleves are they? Back to the sofa. Sodding hard work this doing nothing lark. And there's only the sodding toffee Quality Streets left. Such a hard life

Yawn

Merry Christmas Eve Eve

xx

Day 342 - Sat 22nd Dec- A new addiction and getitng in the Xmas Cheer

Pissing down. That's what I woke up to. Driving rain, dark menacing skies and ground damper than Jordan's kegs. Merry Christmas.

I was up super late last night so it took me longer to get up than an 80 year old's pecker. Bright and breezy I was not this morning.

I usually like to get up and at em to a breakfast meeting followed by exercise on a Saturday morning but after yesterday's enormous festive feed I felt as alert as a Manic depressive on lithium. One of those days.

After faffing around for ages I hopped on my bike and churned out 90 mins on the rollers sweating more than a 70's Radio 1 DJ on the paedo list. I needed to purge yesterday's over indulgence.

This is where i began my new addiction. I was bought Homeland DVD box set for Christmas yesterday and I started watching it whilst cycling. Oh my god what a belter. I did 2 episodes and didn't want to go out.

Unfortunately I had an Osteopath appointment at 2.45pm so I dragged myself away from my new found addiction. I would happily do 12 episodes back to back if i could. Cancel Christmas I've got 10 episodes to do.

The Oesto fixed me up. Now that I've reached 40 it appears my body is falling apart. Pulled left hamstring, dodgy left hip and sore lower back. My muscles are stiffer than a Viagra convention. Everything hurts and I haven't even been training lots. Nuts. Gawd knows what I'll be like when I'm older. Time for some sunshine me thinks.

Then it was off to my old friends Xmas meal in the country. I have to admit the rain and onset of tiredness meant I would have happily curled up tonight and continued my Homeland marathon. I'm so pleased I didn't. I had an ace time.

There were 10 of us plus kids. A proper festive atmosphere. Completed by a stunning tree and surprisingly tasteful outdoor light display from my mate. It's Beaconsifeld so a wealthy area. I'm disappointed he didn't bring the whole tone of the neighbourhood down with a naff light display but each to their own.

it was fun seeing the kids run around all excited with presents, Santa Claus and Christmas. I asked one of my friends boys who is 5 what he wants for Xmas and he replied, 'Ipad'. Words fail me. His Dad muttered, 'looks like he'll be disappointed this year'.

Once the kids had been put to bed we sat down for Xmas dinner. I'm not one to eat late (other than midnight sugar binges of course) but we sat down at 9pm for a terrific slap up 3 course Xmas meal. Starter was shellfish with a salmon shaped like an Xmas tree, it was pure genius and we were well impressed.

The main course was Turkey with mountains of everything and desert was homemade cheesecake. Holy fuck it was delicious and I of course kept self control and discipline, only going back for seconds twice.

I OD'd on meat and stuffing. Christ I could barely move. Big mistake wearing a waistcoat. Anymore and the buttons would have pinged out like shrapnel. The 2nd big Xmas feed in two days was taking it's toll. The belt was loosened and the stuffing was literally knocked out of me. I got a massive meat sweat and my belly swelled up like I was pregnant. However You have to drive on through the bloatedness though and take it like a man. This is what I did for desert, claiming I was too full and didn't want any. Not realising it was homemade, the host broke me down in an Afghan style interrogation technique effectively saying 'you will eat cheesecake'. I relented and did. Not only the bit she served me, but half of the rest of it in the kitchen. I find gluttony so very easy. Spot the compulsive over eater. It is written all over my face and around my mouth. Delicious.

After dinner we all played a board game which was totally ace. Apples to Apples. You are dealt 5 cards which have random words on, then each person takes it in turn to be the judge. You are given a card with a word, you say it out loud, then every player has to lay down a card with a word on you think the judge will pick to associate with their allotted word. (Not sure if I've explained that well?)

You have to judge if the player will pick a logical meaning, a personal meaning or a random one. Cue much banter and shouting and accusations. It's such a simple game but so so good. We played it for hours and much merriment was had by all. I wonder if the new generation of Ipad and computer game kids will do such things after a meal. Oh god I sound such an old twat there don;t I?

Then I got some Reiki healing from another pal (as she smoked an electric cigarette and shovelled Pinot Grigo down her neck) and had the obligatory drunken conversation with someone about their drinking. Most sober people go through this at parties. One person who is drunk will inevitably say 'You do so well not drinking. I wish I could stop, I drink a lot but I'm not an alcoholic.' If i had a pound for everyone of those conversations I'd have enough for a good bottle of Brandy by now. #Standard.

I left at 4am and got to bed at 6am. Great fun, Great friends and very Christmasy. Not bad for a sober bastard. Mind you I made up for it in stuffing. Fuck me i better get extra Andrex in tomorrow and give Bernard Matthews a bell. Reckon my new nickname should be Paxo.

Stuffed. 4 Xmas lunches down. 1 to go.

xx

Day 341 - Fri 21st Dec - End of World? Nah - Dairy Milk? Yep

At 11.11am this morning the end of the world was predicted. Seeing as I'm writing this daily blog at 11.11pm in my pants in my kitchen on a wet and windy December evening. It clearly was a load of old bollocks. Those Mayans need to sort their calendar out.

Today is Winter solstice. The shortest day of the year. The day after 2012 years that signifies all kinds of spiritual energy. People have been chanting ,meditating and coming together (That sounds wrong) all day. It is a special time of the year/century/world. If you're into all of that of course. If  not it's Friday and the panic before Xmas is just starting.

Of course the end of the world generated lots of publicity and media attention. It's a nice story. Pull outs in newspapers, lead stories on the news channels. Even twatty bollocks here has written about it.
So at 11.11am this morning I prepared myself for the end of the world by installing myself in a tanning salon for 8 minutes in Kleo Nails, Richmond. I figured if I was going to go out I'd do it looking orange and glowing surrounded by moody Polish women.

I stepped out of Kleos at 11.19am and it all looked pretty much the same. Kew didn't have any fault lines running through it. Richmond wasn't on fire and the Thames hadn't turned into a big Tsunami. Business as usual. Move on.

Seeing as it didn't end I thought I'd run around and get a few prezzies. Worrying that I hadn't got enough. I could feel that slight panic rising in the air. The pre Xmas stress really starts to go up a notch as we enter the weekend. Particularly in Tesco Isleworth. People were running around all over the place. Clearly Xmas will be all fucked if they don't get that family tin of McVities Biscuits. People were arguing over KP Nuts for Christs sake. It's only Friday. It's all going to kick off by Tuesday.

A moral dilemma. Is it acceptable to buy presents from a Charity Shop? I bought a few from Quite a posh one with designer stuff. It was a 'save the Children' shop. Funnily enough they didn't want my Jim'll Fix it medal. (sorry - v poor)

I thought 'this is a bit pikey getting gifts from here'. Is it? Is there any difference between that and a vintage clothes shop? Anyway I got some belters for under a nifty so I was pretty chuffed., Maybe I should keep schtum about the origins of them?

I was invited for my 3rd Xmas lunch/event of the season. A big old family affair with a gorgeous lunch (homemade VAT of Shepherds Pie) and more chocolate than Willy Wonker's. We did the whole exchange of gifts thing which was great as I love seeing people unwrap what I got them and nailing it. Plus I got some belters too so it was all good.

I ate so much Shepherds Pie i swear I'll be herding sheep tomorrow. Then i crossed that Xmas line. You know when you exercise reasonable self restraint, eating the meal and being all disciplined. Then you go back for 2nd's, even 3rd's. Then you lay down on the sofa, stuffed from lunch, the belt is loosened and you fall into a catatonic state of lethargy.  You are stuffed but still hungry. The giant bars of Dairy Milk, massive lindt eggs and the oversized tubs of chocolate are an arms length away. If only you could summon enough energy to lift your body over to scoop them up.

Then you do. The Xmas line is well and truly crossed and you're off and running. Shovelling in chocolates at a rate quicker than Apollo 13. You don't even realise you're doing it. You permanently graze on chocolates until 45 minutes later you've done more calories than Fat Families and you feel totally sick. The true meaning of Xmas.  You are Unable to move, speak, keep awake. You have effectively rendered yourself useless and you have another 10 days to go. Fuck!

I need to revise my Xmas list. I need some elasticated 'comfort slacks', those Velcro trainers to slip over my fat feet and a Onsie the size of the 02 and a Gym membership for January.  It's going to be a harsh Xmas on the waistline. There's no turning back now. Xmas lunch number 4 tomorrow.

Moment of the day? Eating a massive lunch as Band Aid's 'Do They Know it's Xmas' played loudly on the Radio. Nobody noticed the beautiful irony of gluttonously tucking into a lunch as a song about raising money for starving children in Africa played away. That is until i pointed it out and instead of guilt everyone laughed. A classic Xmas moment.

Pleased it's not the end of the world, there's far too much to do. For one i need to attempt the world 'Celebrations Eating record'. I started my training today and should be primed for Xmas day. Bring it on I'm ready to roll (literally)

xx

Day 340 - Thurs 20th Dec - If it all ends tomorrow it's been a blast

It's the eve of the end of the world. The Mayan calendar predicts the end of the world on 21st December 2012. That's tomorrow. (Or today if you're reading this blog on the 21st - but then again there wouldn't be anything to read. We'd all be gone)

Are you preparing? Do you believe it? According to BBC News 1 in 10 people believe it to be true. But then 1 in 10 people are clinically insane or high on smack. Why the fuck did I buy all those presents? And why did I make an appointment for the dentist on 3rd Jan? The smart (or mentalists) will have delayed buying presents until tomorrow to see if those Mayans had it right. But then again if it does end what does it matter if you have enormous debts? Fuck it, we may as well go mental and tuck in.

To mark this occasion Lynx launched an 'end of the world deodarant' and soundtrack and marketing campaign to celebrate. Those marketing wankers will latch onto anything for a quick buck. There is something nicely ironic about a company turning an ancient belief of Armageddon into $'s. Commercialism in all it's awful glory. As Bill Hicks said anyone in Marketing should kill themselves. Oh god. That's me then.

'Live every day as if it's your last' is the old Maxim to squeeze every drop out of life. So that's exactly what I did today. I didn't want things to end with regrets. All those things I should have said and done (sounds like it could be a song) - so today I did them.

Firstly I got up and had an extra cup of tea. I took my time and took in This Morning and Jeremy Kyle. Though to be fair if you did that every morning the end of the world couldn't come quick enough. 60 minutes of that shit and you feel like ending it all.

Then I went down to the job centre to sign off. No point in claiming when the world is no more. Then it was off to lunch in the orange Tree, Richmond. This used to be a mans pub. Now it's all soft furnishings and Chesterfield sofas. What the fuck happened here. They even had 'Baked Camembert' on the menu and I swore I saw 'Jus' on the main courses. Oh my god the bastardisation of the pub is complete.

Still it's the end tomorrow so I'm willing to make allowances. However one thing I am unable to make an exception to is screaming children in pubs. I couldn't give a toss if the globe goes up in flames tomorrow. I want it on fire and burning up with bastard kids banned from bastard pubs. They are an adult domain. You go into pubs to get away from the little fuckers. First it was Shepherds Pie, then soft furnishings now kids. What the fuck happened to our great British pubs. Where men were men and women were bored. Thank god I don;t drink anymore and have no right complaining.

They used to be a place to drink, talk bollocks and lose all your money cultivating a swollen liver. Now they are all middles class 'eateries' and 'kitchens'. With a fancy menu and a chalkboard. I had a business meeting. (hardly any point as the only business worth conducting tomorrow is the business of death) But the meeting was routinely interrupted by a screaming 2 year old running around. The miracle of children was soon replaced by mild irritation, followed by huge annoyance, followed by a quiet word with the group of mothers gathered together to shut them the fuck up (politely of course).

I wrestled with a business decision all day. My head was hurting and i didn't know what to do. In the end I phoned up some experienced people, seeking advice. Was given some clear, good solid practical guidance. Made a decision (To turn some money down) which was tough but ultimately right and felt much better, clearer and empowered. I'm so shit at making decisions so to make one finally felt good. Particularly a right decision.

And so to the last evening on the earth? Well I hit up an AA meeting of course. Yes there is a huge temptation to go on a monumental bender (the drinking kind) but I think I'd rather keep my mind about me if the end comes. I ate steak, kept it simple and just before midnight slapped a load of Lindt Chocolate down my neck and some pork scratchings. Yes I know how to live. Eeking out every last drop of fun from life. MMM, maybe I need a rethink?

I don't believe it though. I'm one of those 9 out of 10. However if it really was going to end you can be sure after seeing all my friends and family, eating everything I like I'd be induging in another kind of pork scratching that's for sure.

If it all goes up tomorrow It's been lovely knowing you. I'll see you on the other side. I leave with a few regrets but ultimately I can look myself in the mirror and say, 'Yes you do look a bit like Nighy. Beckham and Ramsay don't you'

Bye

x

Day 339 - Weds 19th Dec - Xmas Conscience

Less than a week until Xmas and it's about now that the conscience begins to kick in. You start feeling guilty that you haven't bought people enough Xmas presents. Have i spent enough? What if they get me more? and so on. The pressure is building.

 

This usually results in last minute panic buying when you spunk money you haven't got on loads of unnecessary things not so much because you think more of the people you are buying for, more to appease your guilt really.

 

I suppose if I had kids I would be worrying now that they wouldn't have enough presents to keep them unwrapping until Boxing Day. A friend of mine with a 5 year old is feeling the heat. He said at the last count she had 38 Barbie Dolls. That is tantamount to child neglect. Clearly he hasn't done enough Xmas shopping. It's either that or call in the social services.

 

It is an odd one though. Part of you doesn't like the whole commercialism of Xmas and see children with so many gifts it's obscene. They almost place no value on them because they get so many. That is quite ugly.

 

But then part of you wants to spoil children at Xmas. I remember the utter thrill when I was a kid so if I was a parent I'd find it difficult not to buy fuck loads and watch them almost pee themselves with excitement.

 

It must be hard for parents. Having said that the more you spend on your kids at Xmas the less you have spend on your 5 star spa break in Thailand so it's an easy choice to make I guess. (Spot the childless man)

 

I had my 8th Xmas card through the post today and it was a belter. SMS and social media has made Xmas cards sort of old fashioned. Not as many people send them but courtesy of an old friend I got one that's absolutely spot on today;

Today I was offered the same level of investment as yesterday for a marginally less stake in the company by a different investor.  It's not much money but it's some and difficult to turn down even though you know in your heart of hearts it's not a good business decision.

It's very interesting to observe and it highlights to me never chase investment if your desperate for short term fixes. Looks like 2013 is going to have to be Nick Evans, year of the business man. What a frightening prospect that is. This little gay boy is going to have to work his nuts off and learn loads. I am capable but I'm also humble enough to know I know fuck all, so will be asking for lots of help to find out how to do it. Interesting. I may have to smarten up the image though and stop writing a public blog about beating off the Asian porn until 5am.

I had a lovely evening with my family. (Oh god how wrong is it ending one sentence about beating off to Asian porn and then at the beginning of another mentioning how i had a lovely dinner with my family. That's just wrong Nicholas)

We went for a pre dinner Xmas meal at a lovely little restaurant and had a great time. We won;t see each other over Xmas so exchanged gifts. I was in the presence of 3 women who are world class at buying gifts and wrapping them. Truly outstanding presentation with bows, elaborate wrapping and colour co-ordination;

 

Kind of beats the black marker pen naming I did.

 

I got some beautiful gifts and It has raised the bar high. The very first xmas gift 2013 I opened (They wanted us to open them whilst we were together as part of the pleasure is seeing someones face after you have spent ages putting it together when they open it - Xmas is about sharing and giving after all I suppose)

 

The 1st one I opened was a designed calendar for 2013 full of pictures of me and my family throughout they year. A sort of month by month guide of my year. Each picture was placed to a relevant month. Eg - Marathon ones in April, my birthday ones in September. It was genius and brilliant and confirms that digital design advances are clearly superb and perfect for Gifts.

 

 

 

Amazing my Sis In law took the time and effort and planning to do it and I was thrilled. Fuck me where do I go from here. That was the first one. Talk about raising the bar high. It's going to make that Lynx Gift set I got from Superdrug for her rather shit. Time to think on!

 

I got some more lovely gifts. Really thoughtful and useful and I was very grateful. The girls have good taste. Yet another hammer in the coffin of man at Xmas. We simply cannot compete with such genius gift buying ability. They are Real Madrid and us guys are Rochdale. I am in awe and salute my marvelous family. You know who you are and you are bloody brilliant.

 

That is all. I'm off to Superdrug to return that Lynx. Now where is that credit card and what's the nearest tube to Harrods? Pressure? What pressure.

 

xx

 

 

Day 338 - Tues 18th Dec - Wrapping gifts, business & spontaneously crying

OK  I'm going to give it to you straight. Today's blog is not massively exciting.

I haven't got a lot to say. I'm not particularly fucked off nor am I elated. I haven't got a burning passion about a subject nor am I in deep resentment. Today I'm slightly neutral. Or for the historians out there I am Switzerland.

Ambivalence is good for the equilibrium but not for the blog. It makes for pretty tepid stuff. I have no opinions on issues today nor am I feeling creative, so in terms of blogs it will be the writing equivalent of Sue Barker. Inoffensive, polished but ultimately lacking oomph.

Today I cycled, stressed, went to the 'entire psychic change' lunchtime meeting, unloaded the time bomb in my head, felt better, spontaneously burst into tears, went to pitch for investment in the company I'm trying to start and came home and wrapped my first Xmas presents.

There. I told you. Nothing much is there? Is there anything of interest?

Firstly bursting into tears. I re-read my Nan's eulogy and had Elbow's 'One fine Day' playing in the background. As I read through I burst into tears which kept coming for 10 minutes. I stopped short of wailing but fuck me I was gone. It was like a double bubble tsunami of emotion. That eulogy and an emotional song. I was thinking about her life, her stoicism, pride, dignity and genuine gratitude for the smallest things. I hadn't really cried much since her death but I made up for it this morning. It didn't relieve me as I carried a slight hint of sadness throughout the day. But that's OK.

If I'm being honest though sometimes I don;t know if the tears are for me and self pity or genuine sadness. I'm that undecided on my emotions sometimes. All that I do know is that I was thinking of her life force and that made me emotional.

I genuinely believe that her spirit lives on. Especially when things were really rolling for me back in August/September. My golden period of the year. When things are going OK it's easy to feel calm, relaxed and in the presence of a higher power smoothing things over, making it all groovy for you.

But it's in times of trouble. When you are skint. When all signs of work have dried up. When you're confused, when the noise in your head is too loud, when the fear kicks in, when times are tough. Do you have that faith then? Is it the role of a higher power to 'sort things out for you? No of course not, but I find it a hell of a lot tougher retaining that faith and that everything will be OK when times are hard and having that connection.

Not sure where that little lot came from?

Secondly, wrapping presents. I did my first batch today and sent them off the the brother and family ooop North. I didn't do a bad job but they had a faint whiff of bomb squad about them. No fancy bows, gift tags or elaborate wrapping. Just one strip of sellotape and 'Daddy Bear', 'Mummy Bear' and 'Bear' written on them in black felt pen. A bit like Tesco's Basic range packaging but it got the job done. #Blokewrapping

Thirdly - pitched someone for investment in a little company I'm looking to start. Didn't quite go according to plan. I felt a little out of my depth in a serious business meeting. Really must work on my low self esteem. Came out with an offer but not for as much as i hoped and for rather a lot of equity. Not quite Dragons Den more like sheep's pen. More work needed but clearly we have something of interest otherwise people wouldn't be making offers. Hopeful.

Lastly and on this dull day i got an email from someone on Facebook who read Monday's blog and poured their heart out that they had an alcohol problem and that through my blog they may give AA a try. I replied with all the love and tolerance i could muster. "Pleased to hear you may give AA a go. Best thing i ever did. If alcohol costs you more than money then maybe it's worth giving it a go. Then I copied and pasted an invoice for £7,500 which is roughly what the Priory or a treatment centre would charge as an introduction to a 12 step fellowship. I haven't heard back yet, but best of luck to them.

At least it confirms that something good may come out of this blog. Apparently life is not all about me. A bit of a shock to the system but apparently the truth. Even I recognise that sometimes.

Keep on trudging the road to happy destiny people. We'll get there in the end

xx

Day 337 - Mon 17th Dec - Service Keeps You Sober

I feel about as Christmasy as a Turkey at a Bernard Matthews party. Not in the mood today. I'm usually one of those saddo's who likes the run up to Xmas but today it's just annoying me.

Endless questions from people. 'What are you doing', 'Where are you going?' "What about New Years?'. Christ it's just so fucking mundane. Unless you are religious or have young children what is it we are really celebrating? Is there a meaning to it? It's got to be about family right? Love? Togetherness and of course overspending and overeating.

Best thing about this Xmas will be 3 things;

1 - I'm spending it with my mother on the 1st Xmas without me lovely Nan..

2 - I'm doing AA service on Xmas night

3 - I'm doing more alkie service at Crisis on Boxing day

If i was humble and earnest and 'well' I wouldn't feel the need to share about doing service over Xmas would I? What do i want? A Medal? Did I share it to make myself sound like a better human being? To get the sympathy vote? To make myself look like a good egg?

The truly humble don't make it public they just do it. I suppose I shall work towards that in the future but today that's all that I'm feeling Xmasy about. Bah Humbug.

I had a lesson today in why service is so important for me in AA. Basically I shouldn't be talking about AA in a public blog. It's an anonymous fellowship and not to be discussed publicly. I'm breaking all kinds of traditions etc but i think I've been skirting around in this blog over past few weeks and not being true to myself. Back to me today. I've been too concerned with trying to be funny or clever or interesting.

I've lost the truth in that if I'm feeling shit i say I'm feeling shit. If i have a great day then i write 'I'm having a great day'. If I feel creative then I'll try and be funny.

Fuck it. I feel angry and disconnected from the world today. I just do. Tomorrow no doubt will be different. No need for a post mortem or thorough examination into my emotional state. I just feel fucked off that's all.

So with that in mind I am co secretary of a meeting in Tooting on a Monday night. It means I take the meeting, open it up, get a speaker and close it. No more. It's not heroic. It's not important. It's just service. It's not being a good egg. It's just what the drill is.

AA encourages you to stop being a selfish "what about me. I need me. Me. Me/.Me. Me selfish whining sod". It encourages you to give something back. To get off your arse and actually contribute. Many don't in AA. They just come to meetings, drink the tea, sit in a chair, dump their shit and then fuck off.  I decided from an early age of sobriety I didn't want to be like that.

Alcoholism is a silent foe. It is greedy. Greedy for attention. For self obsession. If unchecked and untreated it will gobble up all the self pity, all the attention, all the drama, all the well meaning in the world. That's why it's so difficult/annoying to listen to/see/read.

If i allow myself i can disappear into a VAT of my own up my arsness and selfishness. So i do the most practical things AA suggests which helps to stop me retreating into me. That's called service.

If it wasn't for being co secretary tonight I wouldn't have got out the door and got to the meeting. I would have stayed snuggled up indoors reading my book '44 months with Cowboys' (an Xmas present for someone which i thought I'd carefully read this weak - pikey!) with the heating on full blast.

I thought 'fuck it' I'll get someone to cover for me. Even though its my medicine. Even though i know it will make my head feel better. Even though it will restore me to being reasonably normal. I still think after 11 years. Fuck it. It's too far across London.I'll go tomorrow.

Then my head will start seeking excuses. Traffic is bad. It's 10 miles. It will take you ages. You're always doing service. Rest your back. You deserve to rest. They all speak shit anyway. It's determined not to let me go. Anything to keep me away from being well. It's that alcoholic little monkey in my mind goading me into isolation.

What if tomorrow never comes? What if I didn't go and decided to carry on in my life on my own resources? Well armed with the facts of what my head is like it wouldn't be pretty. Sure I'd carry on as normal for a while but it would be a struggle. My head is a loud enemy and experiencing inner demons of fear, isolation, self pity, anger, arrogance, selfishness would eventually catch up with me. That's when the big two dangerous of any alcoholic would come into play. Fuck it.

'Fuck it i can't be arsed. Fuck it I'll do that tomorrow. Fuck it I'll have a drink. My mind works in a weird way. First it will be fuck it. Then fuck you. Then fuck me. Then fuck everything.

So because I had service I had to go. I left the house (reluctantly) turned up, did what I had volunteered to do. Despite myself and against my better thinking i turned up, loved the meeting and felt better. Ahhh that's whey they suggest you do service. I get it now. Clever, practical results and I didn't need to pay a shrink £500. It's not exactly rocket science is it?

Service keeps you sober and as my pal tells me 'you can't pick up a drink when you're hands are in the sink'. I'm lucky. Lets hope I wake up tomorrow feeling less like a spree killer, though that's a pretty insensitive analogy. Grrrr

Tomorrow I will be less of a miserable bastard readers. That's if any of you want to read on!

x

Day 336 - Sun 16th Dec - Sports Personality of Year, Olympics, 2012 & all that

Today was the BBC Sports Personality of The Year. The annual review of the sporting year then the British public are asked to spend £2 phoning up to vote for their favourite 'personality' who performed the best this year. It's a bit of a British institution.

It brought back all those memories of the Olympics. It seems ages ago now but watching all the clips reminded me how utterly awesome it was. So many highlights. So many spine tingling moments. It really was rather superb.

Mo Farah's double gold, the magic Saturday night when Farah, Ennis and Rutherford won gold in 45 magical minutes. Wiggins' time trial gold in front of 1 million people at Hampton Court of which I was one. The Veledrome, the rowers, the spirit, the buzz, the country coming together. It really was a magical 2 weeks.

Watching the clips again made you get that awe and inspiration. The athletes have dedicated their whole life to those special moments of success and when it's put on super slow motion to inspirational music it really hits your heart strings and makes you want to do something extra ordinary. That is until it finishes and then you forget about it and go back to the Quality Street.

The main thing that struck me about the evening was that whilst Athletes are in marvelous shape, spending their lives dedicated to diet and performance and look amazing in sports kit. They look weird in normal clothes and dressed up. Athletes don't do glamour. The women look like trannies in drag and the men look like kids from Grange Hill. Once they're out of the tracksuit they lose all sense of identity and confidence and end up looking like Lilly Savage. Then again I look like a 'F***g Mincer' so who am I to judge?

Bradley Wiggins quite rightly won it of course. A man who is the first Britain to win the Tour De France and then follows up with Gold medal at the Olympics 2 weeks later deserves the accolade. A remarkable achievement in a year packed with them. He was closely followed by Jess Ennis, who despite the whole pressure of the Nation won gold in the Heptathlon and then Andy Murray, who won gold in the tennis and finally overcame 4 losses in majors to notch the US Open crown.

Moh Farrah deserves special praise for some of the moments of the year when he won gold in both 5 and 10,000metres. An awe inspiring performance and of course 'The Mobot'.

But Wiggins was the man. Looking like a ginger Paul Weller in a velvet Mod suit, he made the transition from Athlete to cool dude easily and was down to earth humorous bloke personified on accepting the award. No airs or graces, no ego, no bullshit and even offered everyone round the back for a free bar. A true Brit with classic British humour. Allez Wiggo. A legendary sports performer.

I love sport. I really do. Sometimes it's almost embarrassing to be so into it. Like you're a one trick pony and slightly dull. Almost as if you should apologise for it. But this year more than any other has shown how important sport is to this country. It provides theatre, drama, national interest, unison, adrenaline and of course makes you well horny looking at all the fit women with hard bodies. (sorry)

People who are not into it were all talking about the Olympics. People who had no idea of the rules or history were indulging in conversation about whether or not the rowers had enough technique, if Wiggins would ride for Cavendish, If Mo could beat the Kenyans or if Ennis could get her Javelin up to speed. It was weird.

Of course the sporting year was not just about the Olympics, other sports were played and brilliant moments achieved. Ryder Cup, football, Euro Championships, Murray in tennis. But really it was all about the Olympics wasn't it? Two golden weeks when we forgot about the recession, our problems, the congestion charge, spree killings, austerity measures, Taxes, debts, unemployment, obesity, high blood pressure, addiction, divorce, loneliness and the fall of Woolworths.

Wall to wall sport. We fell in love with Clare Balding. We revelled in another medal one like an addiction. We got a buzz from all of it and we loved it. The opening ceremony rocked and made everyone proud. Britain for two whole weeks lost it's cynicism and gloom and became positive, optimistic and happy. It was an odd feeling.

Then it was over. The closing ceremony managed to lose all of that optimism the moment they brought One Direction on. The only direction it was going after that was down.

There was a post Olympic gloom. A vacuum in our lives. Did that really happen? How will we fill it? The inspiration from seeing all of that when people picked up their bike and cycled after 20 years of inactivity or went for a run round the park inspired by the Olympians.

The public were so hungry for that feeling of euphoria to continue it embraced the Paralympics like no other. Packed stadiums and a public eager to keep the feeling going. Like a drug addict chasing that feeling. Never wanting it to end. But it did end. The inspiration to run and cycle and play sport faded as the nights closed in. That feeling of Euphoria slowly diminished. Until last night when we got a peek of it for 2 hours. Inspiration was reignited in me. In us. Can we run a marathon? Can I train and do something special?

Yes 2012 was an incredible experience. It brought feelings and emotions on a mass scale this country hasn't seen probably since 1966 when it won the world cup. But this was special. Olympians are not grandiose or egotistical. They are humble normal people who happen to be amazingly good and committed to their sport. That touches you as you can identify with it instead of seeing a football player on £50k a week roll around 45 times like a queer trying to get another sent off, the Olympics represented something rather more pure and real.

It cuts through all the shit of PR and spin and image and provides a pure emotion or pride, honour, dignity, compassion and love. It is the world and people at their best and thinking back to it I was reminded how proud, pleased and lucky I was to be part of it and witness it. It was a special time.

Having said all that. It's over. It's cold and dark outside. I can't be arse to go for that run, sod the bike, I'm not that inspired any more. Where's that Quality Street? Fuck, only the sodding toffee ones left. Who ate all the good ones? Roll on Rio 2016.

End

x

Day 335 - Sat 15th Dec - F****g Mincer

Up and at em early doors today. Hit a breakfast meeting which always sets me up for the day. Love getting up and out early doors these days though god knows what it will be like when I'm old. You wake up earlier the older you get so I guess I'll waking up before I go to bed in my dotage. We'll see. Days of a long lazy lay in are long gone.

The back is loads better today after seeing my Harley Street Chiropractor yesterday. (Sounds a bit Grandiose and like I'm a big hitter but I'm not he was a referral from someone who is) £60 for 5 minutes stings a little. He's a cool older Canadian guy who treats a lot of the top golfers and we tend to discuss women. He greets me with 'hello shagger' (A bit disconcerting) and then mildly flogs me (verbally) for not seeing him for over a year. At £60 a pop I don't blame me. It's usually a fascinating place as I've bumped into A Listers along with Ruby Wax and John Motson. Today was quiet. Just me. A wannabe that never was.

For anyone mildly interested (not that you should be, apologies for such a dull opening to today's blog) I have an old weakness in my lower back apparently. Slight scoliosis and the years of running has made it weak. The muscles were clearly very angry and in spasm and it was painful and just about to go pop. I saw him, he double clicked me. Told me to 'ice it like fuck' and no running for 3 days. Nuts. Back next week and hopefully that will fix it. I preferred his experience to that of the NHS physio. No offence to her or the NHS. They do a sterling job.

He did suggest i saw his sports therapist masseuse. A massive Estonian woman who is a former professional handball player with hands like shovels. She's massive and brutal and £80 a pop I'd certainly expect a small wank at the end of it for that money but I declined. The Chiro will have to do.

So off I popped to the meeting in reasonable spirits and then hit a cafe with a mate afterwards for a long breakfast and catch up on recent events. It's always good to meet up with pals and have a laugh, I didn't get out until nearly midday and I was ready to tackle the Xmas shopping Part 2.

I hit the Kings Road and went straight to Muji to purchase the specified  present a family member requested - An Aroma Diffuser serial number 17654/A-13/B12. (Nothing like specific present buying and fair play it took me around 3 minutes so maybe that is the future). That was the easy part. Unfortunately I have no idea for anyone else which is mistake number 1 in Xmas shopping. If you wander round without an idea it's basically the weekend retail equivalent of being lost in eternal hell.

You need to be ruthless, disciplined and focused. Wandering around shops aimlessly hoping for inspiration leads to burn out. I went in All Saints. Zara, M&S and then mixed it up and hit the Kings Road Farmers market. Now readers of this blog will know I'm not a fan of these. There were far too many Investment Bankers in their weekend look of Gucci loafers with jumpers slung over their shoulders for my liking and there is only so many cupcakes and Goats cheese mini quiches I can handle.

I abandoned ship and headed for Richmond (That's a bit like jumping out of the middle class frying pan into the middle class fire)

I wandered around aimlessly again. Gucci loafers were replaced with Wellingtons and Barbour jackets. Basically i had replaced one shopping street for another and still didn't have a clue. This is when i was called a f****g mincer on the High Street. I was walking along when 4 'geezers' walked towards me. All Timberlanded up, Jeans, check shirts, denim jackets and shaved heads. As I walked by I heard one of them say 'Fucking mincer', which I assumed was at me. To be fair I didn't conform to the standard Rchmond Saturday lunchtime attire code. But jeans, cowboy boots, long military coat and flowing scarf wasn't that Gay in my opinion. It's not like I was in hot pants or something. I thought it was a bit strong and immediately wanted to fight all four of them, particularly when they looked more queer than a Freddie Mercury Convention. 4 lads with shaved hair walking along is  a pretty Gay statement. Usually the ones who shout abuse at me for looking queer have got their own sexuality identification issues. It's a case of deflecting anger. They know inside they love cock but are too proud to express it.

Trouble is I'm terrible at fighting so I walked on.

A man who dresses with a hint of queer is comfortable with his heterosexuality. Mind you, the fact I was going into Molton Brown didn't help so i guess i was fair game for abuse. I may as well double up with Laura Ashley home furninshings after.

Molton Brown. What the fuck is that shop all about? Talk about overpriced and rated. It's bubble bath in fancy packaging and boxes. £25 a pop. Nice work if you can get it. Black pepper, Pink Grapefruit body scrub and hand cream. The only hand cream I like is....stop yourself there Nick. There is no need. That's just rude.

I nipped over the road into House Of Fraser to join the other moronic men wandering around like a zombie not knowing what to buy. This is when i hit my annual 'It's Xmas fuck it I'll just spend loads I don't have on people and worry about it later'. I had a massive urge to buy my mother a beautiful Mulberry Leather shoulder satchel. £550 and reet nice. But about £450 over budget. Yes i am one of those consumer lemmings who gets caught up in it. No I am not above it and yes i am a hypocritical idiot. Fact.

I didn't get it as she would have gone nuts. All mothers usually want is 'something little' from their children. As long as they get to feed you 13 tons of Xmas food they are happy.

I went to the make up counter to see if i could guess some 'Clarins products' for her. This is when i encountered the strange phenomenon of the make up assistant. Now why is it that every make up girl is the worst advert for make up? They look as if a bricklayer helped them put it on. I had a very sweet Polish girl who served me. 'What are you looking for Sir', was her first question. This proved rather tricky as looking at all the make up was effectively like looking at the binary code for Chemistry. I was way out of my comfort zone here. All that make up, potions, lotions and sales assistants going through the motions (did you like that bit of poetry there?) I had no idea.

I plumped for the anti aging cream section and she produced a huge gift pack that was on special offer. Now Cosmetic Companies love Xmas gift packs. They basically cram in loads of slightly unnecessary products like shower gel and hand cream into a big box to make it look lovely unfortunately the products inside it are basically useless and women rarely use them. You definately know it's over though when someone buys you a Lynx Gift set' from Superdrug. The end is nigh then.

Despite her sales pitch I decided that buying cosmetics for a woman without a specific order is tantamount to disaster. You may as well put in a card. 'you're looking old put this on your skin to stop you looking haggard. Love you. Nick' I left empty handed.

I managed to get a few items but was getting more frustrated. I couldn't quite nail that great present for people. You know the one where you just know they'll love it and you get it for a bargain so you feel good. I didn't manage it so I figured 4 hours on a Saturday afternoon in the madness was more than enough. Time for the gym, sauna, Saturday papers and relax. What better way is there to relax than laying in a sauna reading a newspaper about A spree killer gunning down 26 children?

The sad thing is you know there would have been endless editorial meetings over that news story. 'Anything under 10 bodies goes on page 6. Anything over that is front page'. Yes News it that callous. We are all consumers now. Of news, of products of everything.

Anyway enough of my inane rambling, Getting called a mincer is playing on my mind. I've got to go and lay down, Now where are those sequined hotpants?.........

xx