So you thought it would be a good Idea?

Hello friends of internet-land. Firstly I would like to apologise for my lack of digital presence. It has indeed been around 8 months of dwelling, self loathing and if I may be so bold as to mention I also released my ramblings onto the digital medium that is Kindle store. I now make my return to where it all began. The holy church of the Beardless Messiah.

So you thought it would be a good Idea?

The last year was somewhat a monumental disaster of sorts but dependent on your mind set it can be seen as quite amusing and certainly an improvement on two years ago! 

Take January 2014 for example, two years ago. Some may say I had a dark start to last year but the year before was far worse. At about 10:30pm on the 27^th January 2014, I stood on a bridge, full of Captain Morgans finest. I remember thinking to myself now this is going to be a good idea. You see I was going through a kind of “Cobain” stage. I couldn't get hold of a shotgun though, as cash generators in Walsall, don't really cut a prophet dealing arms. So I seriously thought about things and came to the conclusion, a bridge jump into the canal would be a wizard idea! Now, as you can probably guess, my attempt (as half arsed as it now seems) failed miserably. As I regress back to the moment, I realize I failed for two reasons. One, I only jumped from 18 feet. Two, I jumped ass first. I remember thinking to myself, there are only two possible outcomes to this situation. I will either die and be found by a tramp, then subsequently become his life spooning partner after he has stolen my shoes (this is genuinely why I removed my shoes first! In all of this I didn't want a homeless guy stealing them!) great to see I prioritize but I have always had a thing about people wearing my shoes. The second possible outcome will be, A failed attempt and this will hurt like absolute hell. I will tell you without delay. The second option was the winner and it wouldn't have taken a Monty Hall paradox expert to see that coming. The thing that I did not count on, whilst standing on the bridge edge, just about to jump, for some reason, singing Hall & Oates – Out of touch. Yet again not sure why, I just bloody love Hall & Oates. The thing I absolutely did not count on was what, at that point would be my final thought. Now when people do something stupid like this, because let's be honest it is dumb. People ask the same question. “What was he thinking?” I will answer that question now, the moment, the second I stepped off that bloody bridge and started to fall, that little bloody voice in my head, that we all have. Simply said. “You've changed your mind haven't you?” the answer to that question was “Yes, but you could have told me that before I jumped to prat!” Allow me to tell you this, if you've jumped already, changing your mind is kind of a pointless thing. I suppose you are thinking now, well it's ok, you can just swim out! Well yes! If I hadn't been a 29 year old, who can't swim (I didn't learn, because I am scared of piranhas!) The overall outcome was a bruised ego, what I thought was a broken ass or as I so eloquently put it at the time, my ass has gone all Christopher Reeves. I also broke my leg, which was and always has been incidentally screwed, now it's even worse. Most of the time I walk like a leper with a loose leg.

I think the most important lesson I have learned is simply this, life is precious and short enough as it is. So don't jump of a bridge and break your ass! If you do make rash decisions, make light of them when you come through them. You will come through them, life may be contaminated with faecal matter sometimes but smile! It could be worse, you could be related to Justin Bieber.

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.    

How Movie Obsessions got me arrested

I remember as if it were yesterday some of the wise words of my father growing up, he always had something to say and it usually sounded completely insane. For instance; I must have been no older than 5 when may father graced me with his first memorable words of wisdom;

“Son, when you get older you are going to find a woman but if you come home and find that she has suddenly developed the ability to sit on a broomstick and take flight, that my boy is a warning sign!”

My dad was a very blunt man, short in height with hair that added on about three inches, he looked very much like Sylvester Stallone in cobra, Especially when he got experimental and decided highlights were the way forward, he very quickly died these out though days later with a Grecian 2000 black shine hair dye and closely resembled the man from Soul Glo in coming to America every time it rained.

My dad had everything figured out and always had an uncanny ability to bring a smile to my face even if some of the things he came out with were completely crazy. If I had to pick a top 5 things my dad has said.

• Look! O.J Simpson on every channel! I'm a bloody fully grown man! Why would I want to watch cartoons.
• When asked “Do you want a bag for that sir?” replied “No you're alright son, I've got one” whilst directing his head in my step mothers direction
• Whilst Watching the matrix “You'd think he could have thought of a better name than Neil”
• David Copperfield the magician or the one from Charles Dixon
• On receiving his first ever text message. It's like a letter and a phone call all wrapped into one!

I loved my dads sense of humour, It was a little twisted at times and when I think of him and some of the lessons he taught me it takes me back to being 12 years old. I was a scrawny little streak of nothing, with ears that made me look like a wing-nut and obsessed with the world of cinema. I had three favourite films. The Rock, Mission Impossible and Con Air. Mission impossible being my movie of choice as every kid wants to be a spy at some point right? I vividly remember this one Saturday morning, mid June and my friend Mike had came around to see if I wanted to play football, we used to play on the grounds of my old school and then hide the ball and pretend to be Ethan Hunt from Mission Impossible!

After an hour or so of pretending to play football and reaching the conclusion there was nobody about, it was time for our mission Which We had already chosen to accept. We had stashed a socket wrench set and some heavy duty rope from my dads garage in the bushes. We proceeded to the roof, now before judging you have to admire the creativity of two twelve year old boys for the next part, I mean we had already prepared ourselves with hairspray to detect any lasers that may cause us problems and maybe delay the task in hand. We proceeded to remove the skylight window and attached the rope to a protruding part of the roof. The other part of the rope was lassoed around my waste encroaching very uncomfortably into my area. It was time! Mike began to lower me down as I sprawled out mimicking some odd star fish in the air, it was kind of like the snowman just without the slushy at the end. As I found myself about five feet off the ground, I felt something I'd never felt before as I heard a voice say,

“What the hell are you doing?”

I felt my rear cavity close up to the size of a small ant and Mike had heard it too, he at this point dropped the rope and obviously ran, I fell to the floor, right before the legs of a Policeman. He was a tall, intimidating man and I had no idea what the hell to do. So I got onto my knees and thought, I know! I put my hands above my head; I had recently watched bad boys and that is exactly what the bad guys had to do. He shook his head and scooped me up. I remember basically being dragged out of a door and then for some reason I asked the policeman if he would let me go if I gave him my sweets. 12 years old and I think I am some sort of autistic Godfather by trying to buy off a copper with cola cubes and daddies herbals.

The next thing I know me and Mike are in the back of a police car and I turn to Mike and ask him.

“Do you think we can pick these locks?”

Knowing full well neither of us had practiced this yet, we'd just about mastered hitting a balloon with our Fk1077112's (elastic band shotgun to normal humans). We tried to reason with the police, in retrospect my reasoning technique wasn't wise, I tried humour with a touch of charm and blurted out.

“If you can let us go, I will tell you were the Bombs are” and chuckled to myself.

Luckily enough this was pre 911 and I only knew about bombs because I had watched face-off not long before.

Before long we were at the local police station, the fear that was now overwhelming was slightly overshadowed by our pride that we thought we were going to be interviewed by government agents turns out that was far from the case and the only thing we actually got close to whilst at the station was whilst being interviewed, there was a bad cop but the other guy wasn't a good cop, He was equally as much an ass as the first.

Now there is this thing with me, it still exists today, I may sometimes not know when to quit, this was certainly one of those times. When the red button was pressed and the tape started recording after every question asked I would strictly only answer.

“Cartwright 201084”

You see I also loved war films, I thought the name and number thing applied to police stations as well as P.O.W camps. I kept this up for a good half an hour until they marched me to a cell and slammed the door behind me, only after I had of course snapped out of my gulf war syndrome.

After about two hours of being incarcerated and doing push-ups whilst only stopping to check if my hair was growing at the rate of Cameron Poe in Con Air, The door finally opened and my dad was on the other side. I remember the look on his face as I explained exactly what me and mike had been doing. I recall his face holding back a grin and the as the father he was, and not wanting me to get myself into further trouble he chose to lay upon me this.

“Son, I have spoken to the copper outside, I am going to be honest, as your dad it's only fair. It doesn't look good. You are looking at 5 years in a youth offenders.”

My heart almost stopped and my eyes well up, he knew he had me so being a loving father he carried on.

“You have to prepare yourself, nobody is going to look after you and you are only small so you will almost certainly get bummed, just try and relax though because if you fight they might like it.”

Stony faced he looked at me and my lip was going and as my face was ready to explode into a well of tears, He stood up, headed towards the door and said.

“Now get up, lets go home. Never ever get in trouble with the police again and most importantly DO NOT tell your mother, you know she gets all Deidre Barlow about these things.”