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.

My Fifteen Minutes

The year was 1995. I was a young, boisterous and In no way a charming young man. I was still developing my humour and was at this point just edging into wanting some of that sought after limelight every class clown desires.

One fine, beautiful Monday.  I define it as a fine and beautiful day as on that day we were allowed to play on the grass. Nothing worse than a wet playtime! Back then,  receiving news it was raining when you had been plotting your best hiding spaces for the last hour was tantamount to hearing your dog had died.
Now after this very successful playtime,  it was announced to the class that some people would be monitoring the class. The people would be looking for people to feature on a CBBC television show and the would pick some of us at the end of the day and interview us. Well this was it! My time to shine. I held my head so high and gave beautiful answers with vigour and confidence.

Would you believe it, two days later my parents got got a phone call asking me to do a phone interview so I could give answers to question they would be asking about me for the show. I stood, raised my pointy chin and held out my hand as if I were a king summoning maids to my chamber. Everything about my stance yelled.
"Hand me the telephonic device father.  My people need me."
Now the question they asked me apart from the obvious was this. "So, Rob what is your favourite animal?"
To this I responded honestly
"My favourite animal is a tiger"
Oh, why do you love tigers they asked, obviously looking for a quick answer whilst trying to stump me.
"Well, I think tigers are amazing predators, the way they use there surroundings and manage to camouflage so well to hunt is such a clever thing."
WHAM!  Take that CBBC.  Impressed they were either that or left thinking. . Do tigers actually camouflage or do they just make and kill whatever near?

The big day finally arrived. I was ready. Proud dad in the audience. Nervous children all around. For some reason not me. The lights, the cameras. It was my time to shine,  I just had to pick my moment perfectly.  If I could just make one person see. Then maybe, just maybe I'd make it big. I could do Home and Away. I loved that show!
Filming began and we gone through all the testers and sound checks and we had come to filming the tell us about you segment of the show. This was where I was going to take my moment. With honour with pride, with all my work on speaking colloquial English I waited and it came.
"So Rob, your favourite animal. It's actually my favourite animal too. Tell us what is it? Say a young innocent Mark Evans
"Well Mark, I love tigers" I say. looking for my dad in the audience I notice a nervous man and then the second part of that question arrives..
"So why do you like tigers?"
I thought to myself, original answer? or do I go a little drama on this? so naturally I chose this.
"Well Mark, I love tigers basically because they eat people. You know they tear apart the flesh in seconds and just devour whatever they want. My dad says my mom had this ability too"
His face dropped. My dad's jaw widened the room went silent for what was a very long moment until all of a sudden, being the professional he was.
"And on with the show"
Now to my ultimate disappointment.  They cut my reason down but I still won. As when the question, why do you like tigers came the answer they managed to cut to was.
"They eat people"
Cut to shocked father. Angry teacher and therapy for a year because everybody things I'm obsessed with death.

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.

Maybe Inappropriate but...

              I have always had a strange relationship with people, I think that it's things like, I refer to other people as humans whilst talking to them, which is apparently is a rather odd thing to do and also I have a tendency to say things to certain people and fail to notice that their reaction is that of a person that has just witnessed a cult burning a witch for the first time. I am told on a regular basis that I have no filter. Unfortunately this I can't argue with, but I do choice to rub icing on that description and usually state.
"I am just saying what everybody else is thinking."
knowing that quite possibly nobody at all is thinking anything of the sorts, and what actually happened was that the voice in my head shouts at me.
"Make a holocaust joke!"
My mouth instantly regurgitates the most inappropriate arrangement of words you could possibly imagine. My mind seems to have some sort of trolling vendetta and refuses to hide it in any way.

            If you can think of absolutely anything you shouldn't say whilst in a relationship, I can personally guarantee that I have said it. When asked the question do I look nice, Generally rule one is there is only one answer, that answer i should always be yes. My thought process says yes, my logic says yes, my interfering nonsensical unfiltered mind chose to send the following signal to mouth.
"No, you look a bit like a rugby player in a dress"
Not a good answer! I once worked in a restaurant in Birmingham, Now firstly let us get one thing straight. TV chefs and the shouting. It's all very dramatic, my kitchen was a very fun place and you would usually find me dancing like a moron to Footloose by Kenny Loggins! any way as usual I digress. We had a new waitress start as part of our Christmas recruitment. A German girl, very quiet, very timid, very pompous and cantankerous also to a young chef with a warped sense of humour very easy to maybe play a joke or two on.

          After her third day, I hadn't spoken to her at this point. I was planning on playing a small joke on her maybe with a rat in the bin yard and she would scream blah blah, you get the picture. For some reason thought engine came straight into practice the moment she went to introduce herself. I turned and shunned her smiling with my back to her. I walked out the back and explained my plan to the head chef, who incidentally thought it was as brilliant as I did.

The next day the waitress approached the head chef and asked him if she had offended me in any way. This is what we agreed he would tell her and did.
"It's nothing you personally have done, It's more everything your kinsman. You see Rob is Jewish and you are the only German he has ever met. So naturally he blames you for the death of his grandparent"
This woman was so gullible, I mean she tried to make so much effort to communicate for a week and I just got further into pretending to be a Jew. I even brought a Kippah (a Jewish skull cap) from ebay and started wearing it whilst referring to people as buby at every opportunity. I must say after a week I did tell her it was a joke and we became very good friends and she is aware that this is being written.

People for reasons as mentioned generally see me as Marmite personified. I mean as a younger person my filter-less mind was seen as cute in some respects, apart from the time I appeared on a childrens TV show in 1995 on BBC one called why did the chicken? and decided to embrace my moment in the spotlight apparently that was not so cute, also what did that 9 year old child just say on television?

Five steps to trouble

Ok so as you can imagine I am not exactly a tongue swizzling charmer with the opposite sex. Saying that I have learnt my fair share and I have also made my fair share of wrong thing said at the wrong moment times. These are my top five life lessons of what definitely not to do.

1) Ok, number one is one that some young men out there will have only had slightly wrong dreams about doing but I implore you do not! Stop! Do not under any circumstance get inebriated with a friends mom whilst waiting for him to come back from college, notice that his mom is quite attractive and then proceed to make very slow, old and disgusting love to her. THIS DOES NOT GO DOWN WELL. consequently I was caught with my friends mother during the act of what could be defined as beautiful, but in this case I won't describe it that way. After being chased into his back garden I was hit in the face with a shovel and left with a broken nose and ego. I suppose I should count myself lucky that nothing was removed from my person whilst on the floor. Just do not go there. that friend is no longer a friend and I believe he still wants me dead.  A little dramatic if you ask me.

2) Under no circumstance take any drugs and carry a mobile phone. As previous readers have discovered in my younger years I experimented with narcotics and carrying a mobile phone only leads to trouble. The only other time I was arrested but never prosecuted if i may add was the time I had taken some lethal cocktail and incidentally I rang the police to report my camel had been stolen. They later removed me from the local railway station whilst scream.
"Have no fear Thomas the tank engine, I've stolen the fat controllers hat so he won't be in tomorrow"

3) Number three is an obvious one but I believe it destroyed my first relationship. Absolutely under no circumstance compare your relationship to Auschwitz! I went on to say that I saw her as "The Hitler" figure and I was being wrongly punished for things I hadn't done. Looking back had I used a better analogy it may not have caused the faecal storm that ensued. Ironically I am sure she used to leave the oven on, on purpose after that.

4) So growing up we all used to play games, a favourite of mine as a child was knock door run. For those of you who do not know what that is. It's where you taunt a local neighbour by knocking their door and running. My favourite victim was the man at number 87. He was mental, and I'm not talking a little crazy. This man used to carry a goldfish bowl with him everywhere he went and hoover his lawn! He was also 6' 4" and the size of a well built tractor. We used to knock and run every day for months until one day we upped the anti. We decided to cover his door entrance from top to bottom in strips of tape before we knocked, it was perfect. The moment finally came for the big knock he ran out as if he was waiting for us. Straight into the tape. He was insanely furious and this was by far the funniest thing I had ever seen. I was laughing so hard I forgot to start running by the time I realised I had to run it was almost too late. I turned and fell straight over a brick onto a piece of metal on the floor. I was in pain, covered in blood and quite frankly thought Mr 87 was going to feed me to his wife. Luckily he didn't he took me home where I had to go to the hospital with an angry father and have 4 stitches. lesson the nutty ones may provide the best laughs but also the most stitches.

5) Finally, to complete the list. If you do not want to annoy your parents and you are a creative 7 year old then I suggest you express your artistic nature in a drawing book of sorts. My parents had recently decorated my room in a full Teenage mutant ninja turtles theme. I was pretty much over the moon apart from the wall colour, it was a shade of blue only a sailor could like so I decided I would redecorate. I was faced with one small problem I didn't have access to paint. I waited until I heard my parents go to bed and thought (for some reason) this will surprise them! I will redecorate myself. They were more 'The angriest middle aged couple I had ever seen in my entire life' than surprised when they came to get me the next morning only to find that I had coloured in my bedroom wall (not walls) from corner to corner in crayola red. Yep I had stayed up all night and worn my complete red collection of Crayola Crayons down to the pure paper. I was told later that day that Santa was going to bring me nothing that year (my step mom) and my dad told me that the ghosts were going to watch me in my sleep if I didn't start behaving. I will be honest, I was more frightened of my dad's consequences rather than no presents 11 months later.