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

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.

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.