Confessions of an Inspiring Author

C90 A tale of two Sides

Days of Madness

www.confessionsofastrugglingauthor.com

     First and foremost this is not one of my usual blatherings of whatnotical nonsense but rather a show of support for somebody I have had the absolute privilege of meeting this year. I want to make a Martin Luther King like speech about how everybody should come together and visit the blog and buy his bloody books!

    This guy is hard working, modest, talented and unbeknownst to him a massive inspiration to me. I myself follow this blog with an eagerness and his work is not only stupendously hilarious but so true and honest it deserves to be noticed. both books have links above to purchase from kindle store and in limited edition made from very thin slices of white tree and bound in thicker slices with nice pictures on the front edition for all of you non digital people out there who love the smell of a good book! rather than smell one! read one...no actually read two! These two! I have heard that if you don't read them, that as all hallows eve nears, Bloody Mary will appear in your bathroom mirror and play hide the bible into your out! 

So basicall what I am saying is that this guy is a one of a kind, they say one person can't change the world....but look at Hitler. ok possibly a bad example, imagine a nice Hitler, without gas and the movember gone wrong. Ok forget Hitler... Ladies and gentlemen. James Josiah

"Follow your passion, stay true to yourself, never follow someone else’s path unless you’re in the woods and you’re lost and you see a path then by all means you should follow that."

Break Ups, Coco Pops and Tramadol

The Curly Locks of A Genius

Last night at ate cereal from a regular sized cereal bowl. I realize that this is a rather odd way to begin a new post but please do go along with it. As some may have realized I have been absent for quite some time. This is due to self loathing and meandering through life in what I like to refer to as “White guy woman depression” allow me to rewind a little.

It's Tuesday morning, I am not at work today, I open my eyes in a disappointing fashion and struggle to see the clock through my hazed Rum and Tramadol pained state and notice it's midday. Today I will make a choice, I will segregate myself away from the world and wallow in the self pity that I have yet again found myself in. First step I need to eat. In my barely functional mode I look to the kitchen and reach for the cereal. Problem one hits me in the face like Bobby Brown on a bender. I have broken all of the bowls and I have no way to eat my beloved cereal, or do I? In the hallway cabinet I have a brand spanking new washing up bowl, I couldn't could I? Well I only ask this question to myself now because I will be honest, I did. I filled that black plastic bowl of dreams to the very brim and glazed the dusty brown fruity goodness of fruit and fibre with a pint of milk, grabbed a bottle of rum from the kitchen work surface and made my way back to the sofa of dreams.

Two hours later I seem to find myself shoveling soggy cereal into my mouth, very inebriated, cloaked in a quilt, dressed in only my underwear and watching the notebook on Netflix whilst sporadically shouting at the television offensive nonsense. You see there are some of us out there who do not cope well with the departing of ways from a woman, I am not ashamed to admit I am one of them but I did myself become a woman in the process, not an actual woman may I add. I don't tuck anything between my legs and start calling myself Susan when I look into the mirror.

As usual I digress, now people say everything happens for a reason and these situations show up to teach us valuable lessons. Let me first start by saying, whoever “These People” are, you are all absolutely wrong you wrong and not just wrong but so wrong in fact, that you couldn't be more wrong if the international wrong club showed up at your house on a Saturday afternoon, with five of the finest wrongers and spelled the word wrong using their wrongly shaped freak bodies! The only lesson I have actually learned from this whole experience is that If I ever see Michael Cera in real life, I will find a plethora of offensive words and possibly beat him to death using one of his legs which I hope may become a separate entity to his body in a near fatal traffic accident!! I mean how is this guy even famous! Absolutely everything about him screams sex offender! This guy is a just a Neverland away from a court case!

I gradually find myself as time slowly moves on, not so much in a state of recovery and the 7 stages of grief just don't apply but more in the most complicated state, yet amusing now I regress and look back. Now being a sad, lonely Caucasian gentleman. First thing is first. I must create a playlist! Do not sit there and judge me! We all do this, music is great to set the mood and I needed the right mood. Rule one! Absolutely no soppy love songs! I remember yesterday whilst dining on coco pops skimming the music stations and Michael Bolton rearing his remarkable curly blonde locks, don't get me wrong Mr Bolton is one of those people you just empathize with, I remember in the midst of my milk turning really chocolatey thinking, you sing it Bolton, I feel your pain. This was possibly a turning point for me if I am honest. I think if you are sitting in your pants, drinking Rum and eating coco pops at 2pm on a Wednesday afternoon whilst having a conversation with Michael Bolton, you should also reconsider the direction your life is taking.

Now in the present day, I feel good. Well as good as somebody like me can feel I have a playlist of death metal and the best of the worst of 80's hair metal. I have stopped eating so much All Bran and thus stopped spending 6 hours a day in the WC. I haven't watched Chocalat in a while now and I have also decided to be an adult about things and forgive the person that totally ruined my life in every way and Allow her the somewhat displeasure of being my friend. Now I am left with only one small problem, I am a socially awkward 30 year old with no brain to mouth filter, I look a little like the love child of Crispin Glover and Adrien Brodie and now I have to do the dating thing again. I think I may be in trouble. On the positive side though, I am back and now there will be just no filtering...

The How to Guide For the Socially Awkward Part 5

             We have all experienced conflict in our time, whether it be with your partner or with a dopey cleft on the phone that can only speak in an indecipherable dialect. Arguing is a sore part of life that always has cause and effect. Lets look at what really happens shall we.


               When it comes to a relationship, an argument is a totally different kettle of fish. Let us primarily establish a point. There is only one valid side to an argument and that held by a XX chromosome. No matter how right you may think you are men, we are not. It doesn't really stop there though. The process is as such. You put your point across, for instance.
"You slept with somebody, whilst drunk! How could you?"
the response chain follows a specific pattern.
"I know, but I was very drunk and not thinking. Can't we get past this?"
At this point the response would obviously be "No!"
but then comes the killer.
"Do you not realise? I did it because of you! You never do things for me and the first time I make a mistake, I have to deal with the same question over and over again! This is why I slept with him"
You all of a sudden start questioning your initial statement and your judgement and eventually come around to thinking Ah, Maybe it was me, then you make the statement, a statement that is universally known  as the dynamite response, You light the dynamite and say.
"I see what you mean. I understand" now you are only half way through your sentence and BOOM!!!
"You are only saying that because you know you've done something wrong and want to shut me up!"
before you realise it the dynamite has gone off in your hand and you now look! Gary Oldman in Hannibal.
When you look back at this situation you can really learn from it, well some of us can. I am generally an irritating person so most of the things I say make my girlfriend want to poison my food.

             A common cause for arguments in modern relationship is that rather taboo subject. No not backdoor romance. Sex. That's right I said it! how uncouth of me. Now a man when attracted to a woman will probably want to perform the art of love making on a regular basis, I think it's hard wired into our DNA. It's not the same for a woman, they would much rather watch call the midwife and believe me when a woman watches call the midwife, I personally guarantee there will be no libido after that, you have more chance of urinating in somebodies pocket and convincing them it's raining. So when a man tries three tactics to entice a woman, he just aggravates her. The three tactics are as follows.

1. Trying to casually touch a private area whilst spooning.
2. Establishing the more passionate (Is it naughty time) goodnight kiss.
3. Finally the winky stab, Basically you jab away and hope she notices. For the record, she has noticed but and if you continue to do this, you will get the penance stare.

Avoid all of the above and that is going to save about 2 hours of arguments per week. I think though although these are completely none essential arguments, there are times when an argument is called for. These times are during phone calls to the lonely planet that is call centers.

From the moment we pick up the phone it takes 30 second to go from calm to fury. Firstly you have to find the person you want to talk to by pressing numerous keys and what really sets off a Michael Douglas style break down is the 'Please say what you are calling about' I got this option once and a computerized voice states.

"Please say the reason you are calling us today"

to which my response was clear and concise "Customer Service" after 30 minutes of hearing robot moron telling asking me.

"So you want to pay your bill?" and me screaming at the phone I eventually reached customer service to find I was 48th in the cue. 

Being the man I am I would not hang up! I stayed on the line. I had even forgotten why the hell I called but now I was in vendetta mode! When it came to actually speaking to a person and I got the usual.

"Thank you for calling TalkTalk my name is Gareth how can I help?" now take into account there was no clarity in what he actually said. This man sounded like a deaf person with  a mouth full of peanut butter. My Response was filled with complete nonsense and utter anger. 

"Oh, so you want to help do you? Well you can start by getting me a supervisor!" I said with an angered intent. The response was the norm.

"Well sir, I am Gareth and I am the supervisor of this desk, so how can I assist you?"

This is about how I continued, I will be honest because I was angry basically none of this was why I was calling.

"Let me tell you something, God of the desk! I have been on the phone for 40 minutes and by the way you will be reimbursing me for this call." I was interrupted.

"Sir, you have called an 0800 number so this call is free."

I continued, "Don't interrupt me with your smart arse comments! the amount of time I have been on hold is besides the point! My phone keeps on cutting off and the signal is useless. You are the most disgusting company on the planet and as an ambassador for them, you should be disgusted." now I drop the British favourite.

"I, my friend, will be writing a very detailed letter the consumer rights. I will make sure I mention you by name and I will not miss out any detail. Also whilst I am here I would like to let you know that the phone you have provided me with is absolutely useless, yet again that's no surprise given the rest of the service I receive from you lot!"

Another interruption. "Sir, I can see that from your account you have a Samsung Galaxy, we are TalkTalk not samsung."

I was infuriated by his correctness. "Don't you come at me with your semantics and witty remarks, you imbecile. I want you to do something about this and I want it done now! I cannot believe a company as established as your selves would employ mentally insufficient morons, like you Gareth. Whilst I am at it. Tell me why I have been to unsucessfully make phone calls from this pile of crap phone to know avail?"

Gareth and his sarcastic response..."Sir I can see that you are on the phone now, to me"

I was not impressed.

"Yes, well, yes that's not my point is it, you are the operator. I know what you are  trying to do! You are trying to snake your way out of this phone call in anyway your badly rehearsed script allows. Well no more" By this point I had started to make grand statements that made me sound like a drunk, failed Shakespearean actor. I continued.

"No More! I tell you. This situation my friend is one of easy resolution and I want you to resolve it or forever may your children be cursed." At this point, Gather got a little fed up and hung up on me....Man was I fueled by this. Now I wont drag this out but after I had repeated the same conversation once more. This time with a man called Darwin (I am not kidding) and wasted almost 2 hours on the phone. I finally remember that I had needed to speak to technical support and not customer service but I really enjoyed turning 50 shades of purple.

The How to Guide For the Socially Awkward Part 4

           We all enjoy the exciting feeling that travelling brings right? Well some of us do, sometimes when you look back on your relaxing holiday you quietly reminisce about laying on a beach or that couple who were your holiday pals. If you really stop and think though. It wasn't all that relaxing was it.

            If you are lucky enough to have found a holiday that hasn't required the remortgage of your house and the sale of your least favourite child, you eventually find yourselves ready to take flight. Now initially you will have passport panic about 50 times on the way to the airport and you've had the taxi driver reassuring you that not all planes crash, you will eventually be checked in and awaiting take off. The flight can be a traumatic experience for some. for example, smokers and people who get hungry but have left their wallet in their case. You then become the most irritating other half on the planet. I myself have found that I have moaned for 4 hours on a flight that I am hungry, so much so the person in front gave me a sandwich to shut me up and for those adventurous flyers out there who think it's a good idea to join the mile high club! Why on earth would you do this? You are 'doing it" in one of the most confined used toilet cubicles on earth. I mean have you seen Slumdog Millionaire? Those toilets are more hygienic!  

         So you are lucky enough to have landed safely and providing you haven't flown with monarch, you probably have your luggage too. You are in new uncomfortably hot county where nobody understands a word you are saying. So you now adopt the local dialect, this being English but said.........very............very............slowly. My dad once asked me to order him a coffee when we were away in Rome. so I put on a really bad super Mario style Italian voice and asked.

"Heya, Escuse... you giva me da cafe eh?"

turns out the barista was fully fluent in English and just thought I was a head mental child. She even gave me free Biscotti. You also as an adult maybe faced with my problem. Now I absolutely do not have a body to be seen topless, yet my girlfriend is one of those head turners. So I just kind of sit around in a t-shirt and shorts afraid of the beachy judgement.

         Whilst in a new country every day poses new challenge, The food being one i mean go to Poland look at a menu and think I will try the local cuisine. Once I thought I was getting experimental and ordered 'Kurtka sera ziemniaków i fasoli' when a cheese and bean jacket potato arrived I was pretty disappointed to say the least. 

Then you are struck with the thought of maybe I should embrace a little of the local culture. This in many places is an amateur mistake!

Once I was in Morocco and went into a shop to buy a fez, Do not judge I was young! Also I have a good egg shaped head which suits the shape of a fez. My first mistake was trying it on. I was forced to buy this fez as apparently in some places in Morocco, If you try, you buy. If you don't by I hold you hostage until you do buy. I'll be honest, I brought it. This is all part of the holiday experience which in my view is the least relaxing thing to do. Just go to Devon! It's the riviera of England and everybody kind of understand what you are saying.

      

The How to Guide For the Socially Awkward Part 3

               This my guide for the socially awkward for speaking to the opposite sex and how not to be in a relationship, I think I should initially say I don't see my self as some form of Casanova. In fact quite the opposite, more a Tosanova. I am awkward, I say things that when said in my head sound great and quirky. For instance.
"That dress is unique, you look like a fat Batman with breasts"
Apparently this is in no way funny to any woman and especially if they are slightly crazy. My brother once said something similar to his wife and he got hit in the face with an Xbox Console. It wasn't the 360 either. oh no! It was the original Xbox. I mean that made him look even more like shrek. I think we should go to the very beginning and work on the approach.

               Ok, so you see a woman/man that takes your eye and you want to make an initial engagement. So you now make the interaction but you have two options here. The smile or the wave. In my opinion the smile can be a mistake and you can look very weird if the prospective other person fails to make eye contact. People see you smiling in to space and you just look a little bit rapey. A rapey smiley can do a lot of damage so probably go for the wave. You now have waving options. do you go for a casual sort of Hey. wave? or do you go all out and perform the sanitarium wave. you know the one from the beginning of family fortunes. If you are lucky enough that the wave comes back then you can let out a normal, not to over enthusiastic smile. 


              Some time later you may see this person again in a corridor or standing in a pub, maybe you could approach. Time to say something charming. but STOP there is a difference between. "Sorry, you look familiar, do I know you?" and "You're giving me a lift home tonight princess" the first is normal, the second is just more than a fraction odd and 9 times out of 10 will make you look like a crazy person. Whilst in conversation, eye contact is something to think about, but don't stare directly into their eyes! That's weird. You will just look like you are trying to hypnotize them and people get a bit scared of starers. 

              Now chat up lines. Just do not even bother. I mean especially of you are socially inept. They just cause upset and will offend any person you say them too. Even a stupid jovial one like
“You are almost as beautiful as my sister. But well, you know, that’s illegal."
Things like this said to a woman, cause one thing the flick and walk, every woman has mastered the flick and walk. 

              So having mastered all of this and beyond all reason like me you manage to have a female lady in your life. You have to maintain the relationship. Get used to certain things be prepared to sleep very uncomfortably for the remainder of your life. Be prepared to of what is known as 'Tickly Head" where the woman takes your hand places it on her hair and growls until you play with her hair. Always remember that a compliment goes a long way and even though she is plotting your demise for at least 8 of her 10 waking hours, she will refrain from this if you are just a bit less of a dick. To finish this piece I have compiled a list of 5 things not to do to keep your relationship safe.

1. Do not put your toes in your partners nostrils whilst the are relaxing.
2. Do not compare their genitalia to an ex partner.
3. Never suggest a salad to a woman...they get tetchy about this.
4. Never imply that her monthly 5 day mood swing is in anyway related to her 'experiencing of technical difficulties.'
5. During an argument never stop, hold her boobs and squeeze whilst honking.

This was The How to Guide For The Socially Awkward on Relationships....Next time. It's Holidays

The Things That Haunt Us

                Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, It really isn't nonsense you know, I will tell you what it actually is! It's a word my father used to use as a get out of giving me pocket money clause. He used to add it to his silent fine print after I washed the car and mowed the lawn, he would then ask me to spell this out. I would never be able to and now one father pocketing my pocket money. Before I go to far, I don't want you to think this is me having daddy issues, I am getting to the point but as some of you know it takes me a while. 

              My pocket money was so valuable to me, growing up in the 90's we had things that were then the most amazing items a child could own. I for one remember my earliest obsession was the 1994 Merlin Premier League sticker collection. remarkably I hate football now, call me nuts but it all just seems too much effort. I mean there is picking a team to support, If I had to pick a team I would base it solely on there team emblem, Sounds nuts right. Manchester United - The Red Devil, an all powerful, mythological man, capable of remarkable things. Norwich - A Canary, lives in a cage and is distracted by it's own reflection in a mirror. Point proven? then you have to buy a shirt, learn songs, which incidentally I haven't had to do since my 'Give me oil in my lamp' of 1992. But the stickers they were a thing of playground excitement throughout the school. This is the only time in your life that coolness is based on the size of your visible pile. Every day was a day of dealing in the corner, striking deals for shiny stickers with your go to guy, but this was soon to become a thing drowned by the popularity of somethings else..

For those of you that don't know these are Pogs. that's right a large round spray pained circle of wonder. Pogs were absolutely amazing. I mean apart from the worlds least creative name (which I later discovered stood for Passion-fruit, Orange & Guava) and was named after a Hawaiian juice. I was torn to pieces, almost as much as when the green ranger left power rangers... Was I meant to say spoiler alert? anyway these bad boys sucked my pocket money like George Michael in a public toilet. I suppose in reality whilst I am typing this, I realise how obsessive Pogs actually were, I mean I ran Pog circles in the play ground. Imagine if you will bare knuckle boxing but with very angry children and in Matthew Whitehouse's cases very emotional (he got very teary when he lost in a game of winner takes the slammer) This got stopped by the crazy dinner ladies and before we knew it our Pog phase was done. 

We needed something new to carry us into high school. What would it be? Then it appeared. It wasn't something new, it was something old, yet remarkably improved but somehow still as shite......

This was it. It was back and this time it was all about the tricks baby, It was show time. There were days when we had 20 or 30 of the finest Yo'ers around practicing. I Had worked so hard rocking cradles and walking the dog. I, in my own head was a yoyo master. I knew what to do. I organised a Yo-yo competition and the teachers lapped it up. They gave us the hall and even offered to judge. I had just one week to prepare, so I developed a strict training regime. I even drank a raw egg and went for a run the day of the competition. Well, that helped Rocky win. 

The competition finally came and I was on stage, people cheering with every trick, one by one I could feel the room electrifying, it was time for my grand finale. Trouble was I hadn't practiced a grand finale but felt confident enough to go for the 'Around The World' trick. I down motioned fiercely, the YoYo started to spin and I yelled "Shall we go around the world?" the whole room cheered as i motioned forward. the Yoyo spun once, twice and thr...Oh fu... The yoyo at this point could take no more strain, still spinning and flashing L.E.D lights detached itself in the exact direction of Ms Gaton. 

Three days later, after ms Gaton had returned to work as the bruising around her nose and eyes had started to ease, We all had an assembly, in which we were told that YoYo's we now banned. This made me quite unpopular for a week or so but this was nearing the end of 1999 so I started spreading viscous rumours to the more docile kids about how the world would end and they would catch the millennium bug. After that the other kids just focused on crazy apocalypse Adam and friends and before I knew it the 90's were over and pocket money no longer existed. Unless I got a job......  

Oh and it took me three hours of repeating but I got my pocket money every week when I learned to spell Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, may be an evil word but it got me my pogs.

The How To Guide For The Socially Awkward Part 2

          The second part in my pointless series of nonsense is another how to guide. This time I take a look at the socially awkward event that is the art of socializing and conversation. In my opinion this is one of the most difficult yet supposedly natural things to undertake. I myself am a great fan of talking in fact it is one of my only skills. Letting me start talking is the worst decision since the BBC offered Jimmy Saville his own show! I mean I could give an Pain killer a headache. Saying that put me in a room with 30 strangers and give it half an hour at least 28 of them will want to kill for for saying something inappropriate.

          I think firstly we should take a look at introductions. The most important part. We are in a room full of people that we feel we must mingle with and impress, but take into account on any usual day these people are just the morons that we avoid like they have Ebola. So initially when somebody approaches and extends a hand, Do not panic! This is a crucial moment and they are just after an initial ice-breaker as it's the common thing. There was one occasion where I was narcotically challenged when somebody extended the hand of welcome and my response, due to my paranoid state was to take a sort of crouching tiger hidden dragon pose. In my defence I thought he was trying to punch me in slow motion. So now we have established that the handshake is a friendly gesture and not reduced speed kung fu, We are to meet their hand with ours. But BE CAREFUL! This could get weird. You certainly don't want to shake the hand and look like you are softened by the tender touch and always give a right leg up-swipe before the shake, shaking hands with a hand the feels like a trifle with fingers is never a pleasant experience.

        Now you have broken the first barrier, It is time to begin conversation. the person will say something like "Hi, I'm Jeff" all you have to respond with is simple. "Hi my name is....." greeting done right? Well not if you are socially awkward. Some of us like to break the second step with a POW!! We instantly think, Now is the time to give myself the nickname I always wanted at work and then respond with.
"Hey, I'm Rob...But my friends call me Dragon Lord" This in itself poses only two possible outcomes.

Scenario One, Person says "Great to meet you and leaves abruptly only to warn everybody else at the party that you are mentally impaired."

Scenario Two, Person Says "That's cool, how did you get that nickname?"

I mean you have just called yourself dragon lord and believe me, the answer "Because I am the lord of dragons" Just gets you back to scenario one! So avoid the nickname introduction unless you keep a lot of bearded dragons (had I been quicker on my feet, I may have used the bearded dragon excuse.)
Now if you are lucky enough to have made it to the all important level three, The conversation. You have to be on your guard, if your not your brain will mess with you. for instance, this tried and tested technique, 100% absolutely never works. If your prospective new chum pulls out a picture of his/her children and tells you about them and you happen to have children too, then perfect common ground right? Well yes... Unless you have a messed up sense of humour. Do not under any circumstance pull out a picture of your two children and wait for the obvious, following due politeness question.
"what are their names?"
please do not answer that question with this.
"I don't know, they aren't mine. They are just two kids playing in a paddling pool. I was walking past a house and I just took the photograph."
People have such a guarded sense of humour nowadays, in my opinion the Yew Tree investigation ruined sick jokes for us all and destroyed ice breakers for ever.

If the person turns out to be intolerably boring on the other hand and you find yourself wanting out like an Austrian in a basement. Then in it is your time to decide whether you go the polite route, which in my opinion never works, you know the "Well, I have to get going" and you always get "Oh well just drink this other drink and listen to me babble on about how much I love sellotape" in response.
Now is the time to come into your own, All you have to do is use my method of getting away from a boring idiot. Simply use this.
"Oh you love sellotape? You know what I love most? Night time, It's when I come alive most. You see I feel ready to tell you this now. I am a vampire, I'm 137 years old and I am looking for somebody to paint the immortal coil with," Smile in their direction and watch a piece of them die inside as they seemingly start to believe you are clinically insane. If on the off chance he/she laughs it off, seal the deal by really getting into character. Move into dark corners and his at strangers wearing crosses, if all these things fail, grab a slice of garlic bread from the buffet, take a bite and pretend that your insides are melting.

Shorty after this your new 'friend' will have disappeared inside a minute and you will be home free. If he/she sticks around then you may find they aren't as boring as you initially imagined, either that or they are more deranged than anybody could possibly conceive.

This has been my how to guide for the socially awkward and part three will be on relationships.

So You Caught The Gay?

Ok, so we are all a little judgemental at times, some more than others after doing a heart felt in depth rant yesterday I thought I'd continue with a more relaxed jovial piece today. So as I said yesterday, we are a planet of people who like to judge others. So I thought I'd try and educate you a little on the truth behind gay people.

Firstly and probably most importantly. Being gay is not a disease!  You cannot catch 'the gay' if a gay person sneezes in your general direction.  This also applies to sharing cups. But if you find your self fancying a bum, you were probably born gay and have just been hiding in the closet with Aslan and friends.

Lesbians are like normal people!  Cue shocked face! They don't all like gold sovereign rings and darts. I am even sure if one said to another that they look pretty they are just paying a compliment in a friendly way and not planning a buffet down in the secret garden.

Gay people do like musicals but so do most straight people. Especially men! I for one am a straight man and enjoy nothing more than a night of Jesus Christ superstar, at times I even sing along.

Gay people are not judged by God. Do you want to know why? Because God doesn't exist! And if he did I am pretty sure he'd love nothing more than a night down the district.  The Bible says that being gay is wrong. Let me ask you. If you believe that the bible is real, did you happen to apply to hogwarts at any point in your life, because let me tell you. Harry Potter is far more believable than the bible.

Lesbians don't look like men! Ok some do but let's face it, some men spend so much time doing their hair, they may as well be a woman. In actual fact some of the most stunning people I know are Lesbian!

So let us all embrace the campness life has to offer. Live free and fun and more importantly become hardened to the ignorant opinions of others. Be proud of who you are and embrace life. Put on some Abba and dance like a fool around your living room.   

Finally. If you're out and about and you meet a gay don't worry they probably, almost definitely don't want to turn you! If they shake your hand they aren't using special gay code for "Hey, fancy a Dutch rudder?" It's just how they say hello, mainly based on the fact they are just like you and me!

Secure preference doesn't define a person. How we treat others defines a person.

This short and what may be pointless piece is for somebody who is inspiring and always smiling. Thank you for always listening to my nonsense and being a fan of the beardless messiah.

Why Can't We Make A Change?

          Given the scale of things I haven't been on this earth that long. So what is my opinion worth right? Well I believe it is within all of our rights to voice an opinion and this is my message to those social pariahs, who are basically stealing the very air we breath. What is it with the ignorant behavior of a small percentage of the human race nowadays? We are all guilty of seeking scapegoats, this is undeniable but why blame who we are directed to blame? Why look down in disgust at those who are really giving us things that change our lives for the better.

         This has all started due to a conversation I overheard on the train between two meat headed morons whom, given their conversation and the brain capacity of a newt. It's the age old argument within the united kingdom and one I am fed up of hearing. Two parasites blaming others for their unemployment. This is just one of those things that really tickle my fudge-stick. The conversation in brief was the usual, We are here, in 'OUR' country and we cannot get a job and these people waltz in and take jobs from under our noses. NO! they are doing the jobs that you are far too good for. Why? well because they have pride, passion and self respect for them and their families. They aren't taking your jobs, In fact you are probably taking up a perfectly good home they could live in with their children and pay back into the country whilst doing it. Don't believe me. in 1993 there were approximately 7.9 million foreign born people in the UK. 6 Million of them either worked for somebody or were self employed. Out of the 50 Million British, white Caucasians about 25 million were employed. this was at most 50% if you look at the figures it says a lot. For the record there are 13.1 million British people living in other countries and a higher percentage of them are unemployed that the non British born in the UK.

        Now another thing that annoys me is these parties like UKIP and BNP boasting about how terrible the 'Foreigners' are and posting videos of angry non British people. Simple fact of the matter is simply this. If you provoke anybody on earth this much, if you ridicule the beliefs they have and become a visible social bully they will react! is it justified? YES. That is the simple answer. These people sit on there high horses, complaining and campaigning about how England for the English. Rubbish. How many go home and rely on foreign technology and are happy to take but never to give. We are controlled and socially engineered to label people in this world. My question is simply this. Why do you not have a mind of your own? Why is it not obvious that Islam is a peaceful religion with a very small percentage of bad eggs. I mean come on out of the 2.7 million Islamic people in the UK only 11000 are incarcerated. How many white Caucasian people behind bars? Well take a look at these figures and you decide who has the most bad eggs.

• Black or Black British prisoners 13.4%
• White Caucasian 74.3%
• Asian 7.4%

Now the point I am trying to make is, Why are we always pointing the finger at what is wrong with our country and blaming the people who are actually helping to make Britain great? Shouldn't we be a land of diversity and culture? I have no disillusion that one man ranting will make a difference and yes this is rather unusual but I am fed up of living within a society that points the finger. Maybe we could all do a little more if some of us embrace the different and see it for what it is. A rather remarkable thing.    

It's A Chefs Life

         Television has sugar coated and if not in some cases glorified what it means to be a chef. I was a chef for a very long time and I think for all of those budding chefs out there you should read before you consider a career that will drag you into the pits of despair.


         So you're a budding young chef are you? You have watched Masterchef and become inspired by the colours, panache and finesse that goes into every plate. Well I suggest you start recording every episode because you are going to need something to watch at 1am when you return home from work and all that is available on television is shopping channels, the third re-run of family guy and the news but with a little fellow in the corner who looks a bit like a pervert who is waving his hands way too much. I think the first fact you need to face is, You better like washing up and cutting up salad! You will be doing this for a very long time but this isn't the only trauma you have to face. You see in the catering world, there is no such thing as bullying. It's more priming you to become a vicious tongued, crazy person who cares not for the politically correct.


       You will on a daily basis be so exhausted your legs will start to make you believe they no longer like you. You will hold more scars than Charlie Bronson and get used to the phrase. "You look tired!" you will not only feel tired but you will also realise that your week is not coming to and end. You may have seen the angry shouting and ranting of the television chef from time to time. This is not usually the case. In fact you will usually only see this at 2 points.

Point One: You have cleaned down the entire kitchen and 2 minutes before you are about to leave for the comfort of your sofa and whisky bottle, some absolute moron will order a well done steak.

Point Two: If you have forgotten to do the food order for the busiest day of the week and the head chef finds out.

Apart from these two things it's pretty much anything goes. Now do you like Redbull? if not give it a week and a can of this silver coated battery acid will seem like Taylor Swift just Snapchatted a picture of her Garden of Eden. Like your food? Not any more you don't. You will eat sandwiches, crisps and sweets, This is now your diet! Ask yourself how do you react to practical jokes? I am not talking cling film on the toilet either. I am talking a whole team of people who dedicate their entire working life to not only find your inner most fears but exploit them at every turn. Don't like spiders? You will find them in your shoes, your car and you may even find yourself covered in them by some of the more dedicated and creative of chefs.


      Now you got into this for fancy and pretentious food right? WRONG you will cook what's on the menu, you will cook it fast, you will make sure it doesn't poison anybody and then you will throw a trees worth of parsley on it and call it garnish! Now the important part, the waitresses/waiters. Just do NOT even bother, you cannot have a relationship with these people. They are trained liars! They are actually paid and trained to be truly nice to everybody but as you know they are wonderful to the guests, the moment they step into that kitchen, it is like somebody urinated in their pockets and told them it's raining!

This is a true introduction into your first steps into catering. If a chef tells you he is happy, he is lying. The words term 'Happy Chef' is as oxymoronic as the term 'Honest Woman'

Ps You will bleed, A lot!

Why Orlando Bloom broke my Ankle!

Laying on the bed feeling a wave of fear overcome me, I look towards the nameless female who has made her way to a computer. The fear gradually turns to a curios confusion, as I ask myself ‘Where the hell am I? who the hell is that? and what in the name of Thor’s hammer have I done!.

"Good Morning Colin" The girl, (which is a term I use loosely at the moment due to voice that resembles Lou Ferigno with a throat infection) husks. Another wave of fear consumes me, which in retrospect should have been my first indication that something is wrong; this girl cannot even remember my name is Rob! I mean what a catch! After what could have been my best performance she thinks my name is Colin! Colin! I mean seriously who is called Colin?! Usually your dad’s best friend who you call uncle Colin who is far to fond of tickling you! Yeah, that's right. That's Colin.

"Morning...Um, oh Fu.... La, Em," look for clues, look for clues! You are in her room, she has photos everywhere, there must be a name! for the love of HA!

"Morning You...How are you feeling" I ask with an edge of cockiness as if to say “did I rock your world?” whilst thinking myself some sort of lothario.

“My name is Sammy!,” she glowers, “In case you needed a clue it’s written there in rainbow colours on the wall!"

HOW THE HELL DID I MISS THAT!!! it wasn't exactly subtle

"I'm googling you" she mutters

"what?"

"I am googling you!" she repeats.

Panic washes over me (what the hell did I do?).

I clamber out of the small, stale-sheeted single bed and make my way over to the computer and glance at the screen, on which the search bar simply reads;

‘COLIN BLOOM!’

Google displayed 15,000,000 results and pictures of a middle aged man that you absolutely would not let babysit your children. It all came rushing back to me. I knew what the hell I had done!

I was usually able to remain calm but this moment I was slightly panicked as I looked at the screen again I noticed a second and third tab open! Daily Mirror Submit your story tab three THE SUN TELL US YOUR TALE. I knew I had to make an escape and quick. My mind flashed over the entire night before

***

The pub, the music, mainly the alcohol and the question that Jonesy had asked me, "so, who to are you gonna be tonight?" in his low Newport accent.

You see we used to play this game, that almost never worked. You pretend to be related to somebody famous and then your friend attempts to befriend the DJ then he convinces the DJ to join in the game and announce the famous person’s relative is in the room.

The plan had come together perfectly that night. I was Colin Bloom, Orlando Bloom’s half brother (that he probably doesn't even have) and ten minutes after the announcement one person, one lonely rotund woman, with crossed eyes and a weird toe, approached me, kissed me and asked me to leave with her.

I spun fables that would make Aesop proud! how me and O (Of course being his brother I wouldn't call him Orlando) play badminton and how we were always being hounded by the press and how I had recently been photographed with a woman whose name I wouldn't mention, (mainly because I was too inebriated to think that quickly. She looked so impressed, I started to believe my own crap. It was all there like the night was flashing before my eyes. I will refrain from reminiscing the intimate details, mainly because, as far as my recollection goes, it was short and very scary, I remember hearing things that I haven’t heard since Linda Blair had a crucifix in hand.

***

I looked around, I had absolutely no idea where the hell I was. I knew I was in Bristol and in a room that had the aroma of feet and pizza and I needed to get out, ASAP.

This woman was aggressive looking and I’m sure I remember her telling me she recently won a darts trophy.

“Erm,” I'd forgotten to look at the wall again.

"Sammy!" she growled in a voice that was thickening to a point that was beginning to sound like the Kurgan from Highlander.

“Yes, I know," I said, (another lie) "Where's the bathroom?”

"Out of here second door to the left.”

Now was my chance, only one problem now remained, I am naked and I cannot locate my clothes. Problem.

"You wouldn't have happened to have seen my clothes this morning?" I asked.

“Oh yes, they're down the side of the bed, Don't worry though there’s nobody in so just walk around as you are, not planning on running off now are you Colin?"

I will be honest at this point I felt that the question she just asked was uttered in a tone that lead me to think she really meant "If you try and leave, I will find you, curse your offspring and bite off your winky in your sleep."

I have no problem admitting my fear, as I answered "No, Just need a tinkle" I mean who says tinkle apart from dad’s over-tickly friend! I was becoming a Colin! The moment I walked out of the feetapizzaria I found myself on a weird small corridor, naked and looking for a solution. I tried the first door to the left, It was open. Phew!

I walked in to a tidy room that smelt like vanilla (I always find the scent of vanilla distracting).

Focus I need clothes. On the end of the bed were some denim shorts and a t-shirt, I was desperate, cold and I needed clothes so I scooped them up, along with ankle socks from the base of the bed and headed to the bathroom.

Okay, Get it together Rob, let's be methodical! Get dressed.

So I squeezed into the denim shorts and T-shirt.

Upon realising the denim shorts are size 8 girls hot-pants, and I have on a big fat gypsy wedding belly top, I start to wonder if the day could get any worse. I snook out of the bathroom and made my way to the nearest exit. I try the door to my left. It's locked. I need a key! By this time I am almost giving up on atheism and ready to begin praying until I realise whilst looking out of the window on the kitchenette that I have found myself in, that I am not that high up.

I have a lightbulb moment; back to the room where I acquired the clothes. I quietly open the door and hmmm Vanilla! Stop it! I head for the window I open it as far as I can but it only opens about 16 inches. I take a deep breath step onto a rickety bed side cabinet and start to lower myself without thinking of the consequences.

About five minutes later I find myself regretting this decision. "It didn't look this high from the kitchen" I am hanging out of a first floor window fifteen feet above the ground wearing a belly top with All This and Blonde too written across the centre and a pair of hot-pants that are now revealing a testicle and what seems to be a crowd of students with Iphones tweeting and hashtagging my left nut! Surely this was it, my low point. As quick as that thought tiptoed across my mind "OI! What the Hell are you doing" It was the call of the Kurgan! I had no choice! I had to drop, I thought happy thoughts and prayed for some kind of help as I fell.

I landed and hit the ground. Not thinking about the pain, I started to do some kind of weird Quasimodo like run as my legs wouldn’t quite work properly. I just legged it and hoped for the best. I looked like the worlds worst drag queen as my panic started to subside and I was walking down what was now a quite busy Bristol high street that seemed completely focused on me. As I limped through the town I breathed with relief. I could see my hotel, the discount Travel Lodge. It looked so beautiful like a close-by, Lenny Henry endorsed nirvana. I felt a slight ease come over myself until I suddenly thought about one more thing. I had what was possibly a broken ankle, a bruise the size of a house-brick on my behind, I'd lost my clothes, my phone and my wallet all because of an elaborate lie. I had to stop.

I made a pact with myself, I will never lie to a woman again.