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 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 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.

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.”

It's all about education right?

So on initial glimpse some of you may recognize the image above, some may not. I have included this image for the purposes of going back to where It all began, the realization that the things I said not only sometimes caused shock but could make a select few people laugh. The image above was a still from a sketch from a British TV show called Brass Eye. Now I used to love this show and at the tender age of 12, being fresh faced and newly inserted into high school, accompanied by a somewhat sick if not a slightly more open sense of humour than most of my student counterparts. I chose to repeat at school phrase by phrase what I found so amusing. Here was that scene that tickled my twisted funny bone.

Even now Just posting the video I still cry laughing. Upon retorting what I had heard. I found myself staring into a sea of blank dead eyed stares from students who had no idea what the hell I was talking about and teachers who stood upright, mouths open and shocked as if I had just urinated on their parents. I was quickly taken to one side by a few teachers one of which my P.E teacher. Now I am not being funny but this guy could not lecture me on using the word Paedophile. I am pretty sure he was one, please before you jump up and hang him. He wasn't a dangerous one. He was a 90's Paedo. I think all P.E teachers were. he just used to stand on the benches and have a look. He wasn't a 'Toucher' after they asked me what i though a paedophile was, in quite a patronizing way if I may add I chose my response very carefully and decided to throw back at them and said very slowly.
"A paedophile..is...a...grown....up...that..puts...things...inside..somebody..that...is...not...grown...up"
Apparently this was far too cheeky and deserved a day at home thinking about what I had done, they sent me home with a letter for my father to sign. Which he did, only using my hand.

I think that this was all where it began. I mean we all have a class clown but I was not the class clown. I used to work, complete the work and then go off on a complete tangent drawing whatever attention to myself I could. A few weeks later I had a quiet period as I had been arrested as you read about in the cream mile but that's besides the point. By now I was starting to gather an audience, I had a good group of friends and they were usually mightily impressed by my ability to do voices and accents but I always knew I had to step up the stakes and make things more risque. Trouble was this wasn't a conscious decision it was more a natural progression. I was to find that this progression would only cause further issues.

Shortly after I discovered that I was a slightly inappropriate teen, I found that the teachers were starting to clamp down on my outbursts especially after the riots of 99. Just to add I instigated the riots, I cleverly was not involved and then porn saga. Porn saga was and still is quite amusing. I was approached by the IT teacher and told that I had pornography on my computer, I asked him to prove it. He subsequently showed me a topless model, I offered response.
"That is not porn, if you want to see porn. I can get you porn but it's 5 quid a disc"
I also sold erotica movies to my friends, we all have an entrepreneur in us somewhere and I had found a gap in the market.
I was sent home again! This time my dad had to come and get me. He was furious, apparently if I had cut him in on the movie selling we could have made twice as much! oh and I wasn't to tell my step mom.

I had to stop getting myself removed from school, I loved the learning. I just felt like I was misunderstood so I discovered the charity concert! That's right. Inspired by Geldof himself I knew what I had to do. So every year I organised and hosted a charity even which I knew people would pay for (because 50p for a ticket that gets you out of class for an hour! what student wouldn't buy that?) So began Cherry Aid! every year I would save up and write down every insult I could muster up and unleash them on the teachers. One year in fact my history teacher had made my life hell so I mentioned his divorce and how I thought he was possibly sleeping with the head of year, turns out he was but couldn't really stop a charity concert now could he?

So I believe the education system taught me a lot. Mainly if you're going to say inappropriate things, people will get upset. Just make sure you do it in a wide enough audience that the ones who don't like it are drowned out by the laughter of those that do.

Eccentricity is the key to life

         

          As I have mentioned in a previous blog my father was always a very eccentric being, if I was to be completely honest my dad is a Slartibartfast kind of strange, but never fails to amuse me. This said I think all great people are slightly odd are they not? Take Nikolai Tesla for example, remarkable man, yet completely bonkers. I think my dad takes odd to brand new levels and the harder I think the more out there he seemed. Lets get into a little more detail about my father, as I have already mentioned his throwback 70's look, I feel that I should mention my dad has been married 6 times and every time he mentions his marriages I await his repeat line.
"oh yes, I've had 6 successful marriages."
Saying that some of the things he does still leave me rolling with laughter the minute he has left the room. You can more or less guarantee certain things with my dad. One of these things is that every single time he visits the first conversation starts exactly the same way.
"If I won the lottery..."
He has subsequently finished this sentence with the following things

• I would buy a massive farm (my dad has the agricultural experience of an agoraphobic withe extreme hay fever.)
• I'd buy 3 houses and rent two of them out. (only if he has watched some kind of relocation TV show)
• I would have all gold teeth. (I loved this one because honestly imagine Leo Sayer with golden pegs)
• I'd make a film, not a porn film. I'm too old for that. but an art film like the shawshank redemption.
• I'd buy Tesco and that would show them

Now that last one requires some explaining. Another stigma my dad has is when he first discovered email he started emailing every complaint about everything to everybody. He once emailed the television show Dr Who and started the conversation dear Dr Who! then went on to ask if he ever considered carrying an actual screwdriver because of the issues he had with wood and his electronic device. He went into varied detail and even explained how to get a damaged screw out. The one day on my fathers journey through the information super highway he showed me an email he wrote and I just thought I would share that email with you now.

to: customer.service@tesco.co.uk

Subject: I thought every little helped?

Dear Tesco,
                I have been a customer of yours now for many years and I have always found you to be reasonable but as of late I have found you are no longer as customer driven as you once were. I have been buying your home brand teabags for a great deal of time and I was absolutely disgusted to realize that you have reduced the quantity from 18 to 16. I now lose two cups of tea for every 16 pence I spend. I demand an answer otherwise I will be shopping at Morrison's in future. Although they only offer 14 tea bags for the same price it is a question of taking the moral high ground.
Kindest Regards
Steve (blanked out) 

PS I have recently noticed your chicken nuggets have also shrunk in size is this a farming issue and will they return to normal size soon?

Now this is 100% real and serious. My dad was so disgusted that he did not get a reply that he has boycotted Tesco for 3 years! He still talks about this now and his disgust and is still planning a petition! only because he has now found a website you can build petitions on. 

I have found that the internet has only encouraged my father in his ongoing eccentricity and god help me he has already discovered online dating! need I say more. The section that says Tell us more about you he took to mean exactly that.

Tell us more about you.

Well my name is Steve, I was born in a small town outside of Birmingham called Great Barr. It was a wonderful place to grow up and as children we used to play out until all hours in the morning it was that safe. Lately though it has become very rough. You couldn't go out after dark now for fear of being touched up or mugged. When I was 15 we moved to another part of Great Barr because my dad got a new job which almost doubled his wages but he used to make me work with him on weekends and I didn't like that. It set me up for the real world though. When I was 18 I got married the first time (I've been married 6 times in total and all successful) we moved into a wonderful home, it needed some work, which I undertook myself and I also built a porch, So we could put the shoes in it. It was nice. In fact it was a lot nicer than the house I live in now although I am decorating at the moment. There was a sale on at Wilkinson and I only paid 2 quid for the paper. so I thought that's cheap and brought all of it even though I only needed 4 rolls. So if you need any Blue Liney wall paper let me know. I drive a car and I have never ran anybody over or had a serious accident so you can tell I am responsible. When all my mates were drink driving when I was younger I didn't join in but also I loved by the pub so I didn't have to drive. If you have any questions just send me a message. I am nice and not a killer or a vegetarian.

This was quite possibly the best thing I had ever seen anywhere on the internet and on that note I say dad! I salute you and your oddness!