Alcoholics Anonymous!

Rumour has it that the blogging world has missed my many pearls of wisdom extensively. Bearing this made-up, ego-boosting statement in mind, I have found within me a new urge to digress my thoughts to the public and conceal them in the immortal time capsule that is written word. Rather than formulate blogs of constant drivel, I decided to choose a topic. Hmm… Alcohol!!! The cause of and solution to all lifes problems has not been such an ominous presence in my life of recent weeks. My new found enjoyment of teetotalism, or in actual fact moderate drinking, stems from feeling healthy, the possibility of my chin numbers declining and revelling in a bank balance that does not sink too fast. I can conclude that I am in no way addicted to it. Of course I take zestful pleasure in a refreshing beverage after a hard day but no more so than anyone else enjoys their treats and luxuries. The thing I would struggle to leave behind is the jokes that accompany it. In hindsight I believe I created a character for myself that relied on alcohol as a joke. Not that I was acting, I may merely have exaggerated certain aspects of human kind in my demeanour. Examples being laziness, in not bothering to walk to the bar, or being tight with money such as squabbling over whose round it was. These do cause me to chuckle. Maybe I became too consumed by these ways that my friends couldn’t actually see any other side to me. They may find it shocking to see the cultured being I am that delves in books such as To Kill a Mockingbird and ballets. Ha now my plans of not spouting nonsense have evaporated quicker than my dreams of playing the guitar like Jimi Hendrix. As a young one I believed I had discovered the deal of the century. A salesman offered me a brand new guitar for £5 but in retrospect, when he said ‘no strings attached’, I should have taken his word literally. Oh dear that joke sounded better in my head. In fact it’s hard to make a good quip without succumbing to levels of crudeness and vulgarity. I shan’t be sinking to such depths because, dare I say it, I am whipped like ice cream. Talking of ice cream, the man who used to sell us our 99s and lollipops in scorching sunny days of summer past, perished recently. The police found him covered in nuts, chocolate sprinkles and strawberry sauce. Apparently he topped himself!!! Ha, heard that one before? Well to further your horror (Or rather laughter if I’m lucky), I witnessed the incident first hand. Guess what I did? ICE CREAMED! Get it? No? Ok, time for bed!

ELVIS What Now My Love (Best Picture & Sound Quality)

Elvis Presley - An American Trilogy {live}

Hero 2: The King

To those that know me, they will probably have realised I’m a big Elvis fan. Not one of those jumpsuit-wearing imitators, as I believe that does the biggest selling artist of all time an injustice, but rather a fan of the man himself. It was his name and stardom that brought me to research who he was. It’s not that I want the fame (and fortune) that these icons had but I am intrigued as to why they had it and what they did with it. You could add to this list of curiosity, people such as Sinatra, Martin Luther King, JFK, Malcolm X and so on. Reading about these people captivates my mind. And then it dawned on me. All these people and many more, happen to be dead. They say it is a great career move, with the most recent case being Jacko. I tend to agree with this statement although one also has to think what could have happened if individuals such as Dr King had not had their lives cut so depressingly short. Death seems to add an extra element of mystique and wonder to these icons, for now we can only hear them through tapes, sound and memory. They seem so distant to our normal lives. There may well be so much we never know… So maybe the above is why I started to read on one of, if not the, biggest entertainment star ever to live. Thus listening to his music followed. Casting aside certain cheesy songs and cringe worthy films (Which were probably not made on his accord), I honestly believe there has not been a better singer. He may not have written his songs like the Beatles or had the lyricism of Dylan but for pure out and out talent, not many come close. He could do the rock and pop with ease but it’s the gospel and soul music I adhere to most. I hope these videos prove it and if people still question the talent then there must be some underlying issues. Yet ridiculous talent does not make someone a hero or someone to admire. A few footballers spring to mind although not Becks. He is a total champ of a person and more a chump of a talent. There are two things I really admire about Presley. Firstly, this man from humble backgrounds had a painful existence near the end of his life. The separation from his wife and child were things he never recovered from and the people around him did not help. If a lesson is learnt, it is that all the riches in the world can’t buy you happiness. It sure is lonely at the top. You may say everyone has tough ordeals to go through and there are many worse things to battle with. I agree. But in hearing the emotions in his voice, it is hard not to sympathise and relate to. Secondly, the other tribulation he had, similar to many of us, was his spiritual quest. He was a Christian but struggled with it and I learnt that the road for spiritual knowledge is never complete. The man had pillars in his garden to all other major religions such as Islam, Judaism, and Buddhism etc. This is something I heavily relate to. He was willing to keep reading and learning, which encourages me, when I’m slipping to do likewise. I believe an educated person studies these important parts of life and in reality never ceases to do so. So when I hear his gospel music, I hear the doubts but I also hear the willingness to believe. I like that. After reading over this, maybe I like the man because, although these kind of people seem from another world, they are in fact just like every one of us.

P.S. I had stopped this hero list because I did not want people to think I idolise others. I don’t. (I also stopped it, as it’s hard to get any decent gags in!!) I just wanted to say why I’m interested in these people and how they have influenced me. After all to try and be like someone else is to waste your unique self.
My next hero on the list is big though so stay tuned!!

The Festive Season

Saw a few people the other week for the first time in three years and the first thing they noted was ‘bloody hell, you’ve put weight on’ and ‘what you been eating?’ Not quite the entrance I was hoping for. That brought the curtain down on a Christmas that flashed by in an instant but there were events a plenty to remember. What was at first a winter wonderland, the village turned into an apocalyptic vision with buses cancelled, broken down cars all around, people falling over and so on. Yet the one thing you can count on is the pub being open. Christmas was lovely even if Santa didn’t turn up. Think he got the sack. I got a few books and cd’s, which I was delighted with but my most anticipated gift must have got lost somewhere in Lapland. I really wanted that shoe polish! Luckily my brother did not get much. I want to teach him some humility rather than becoming money-orientated. Having cash in the bank may well have ruined my authentic university experience. Whilst students debate whether to go cold or stick another £20 on the gas meter, I consider whether to risk another £20 in a hand of poker. Whilst they gulp down Tesco value cider, I’m in the club sampling vodka martinis. As they contemplate broken down washing machines, I’m reading the financial times at the laundrette. Anyway there was one slight disappointment this festive season. The much yearned for village nativity play had to be cancelled. They couldn’t find three wise men or a virgin in the village! Ha, this blog has dissolved into one cringe-worthy joke after another. In all seriousness, it was great to see family especially my grandparents. I owe them so much and, a bit like my later life due to university fees, will always be indebted to them. Their battles with technology always humour me. Well my Grandma is ok; she can text! But my grandfather - one day he was getting aggravated when trying to change channel. Trying to get BBC1 on, the TV had other ideas remaining on Deal or No Deal. After his third attempt pressing the button to change station, I explained belatedly that he was pressing buttons on the phone. Good job he wasn’t after channel 9. When old, I sure want to be like these two. Happily married, putting their feet up with plenty family and friends. And to think, they met all those years ago at Queens. It makes me think, despite all my previous adventures, my life has barely begun…

First of Many!

I think this is one of the major things that separates us completely from animals. Some of the stories, songs, ideas people create are bewilderingly brilliant. Mozart, Shakespeare, Dickens et all had mesmerising minds. Without knowing where this renewed inspiration has arisen from, my futile dream of emulating these legends has been reborn. Since my return from the shackles and restraints of university reading, my mind is free and I’ve been writing all sorts of things from blogs, story plans and poems to raps and jokes. This is a return to the old me I believe. I used to write all the time but as I leave my youth behind, I’ve maybe left this attribute behind also. I’ve been too lazy for it, too busy and so on but not now. A trip down memory lane takes me back to the first year of college, where I demanded and commandeered my ex girlfriends video camera to make a film of life. Haha grow up kid you could say but it was fun, even if Spielberg could still sleep safe. I captured general banter and had people doing sketches, pranks, and interviews with random people including Boris Johnson who happened to be in town. Crazy. It’s a shame it never made the big screen!! At the minute, I’m looking at this dormant floppy disk that contains a story, which I’m fond of. But due to my family’s technological hindrances, I cannot get a hold of this enchanted tale or finish it. If you know anyone who’s got a computer that uses floppy disks still, please enlighten me. The story isn’t extravagant or flash. I’m into this style as I find it more realistic and subtle. Check out films such as Gran Torino and Million Dollar Baby to see what I mean. My story features a young adult coming to grips with the loss of his father, girlfriend and the dull realities of his life. It looks at the changing relationships of family and friends and in doing so captures social problems/issues such as depression, fatherless homes, wavering faith and love amongst other things. It may not be the highest standard. My lack of patience made me rush it, as I wanted my thoughts to immediately transfer onto page. However it’s my blueprint that hopefully I can build on. You’ll see Eastwood directing it in the near future. So the moral of this blog, keep your passions whatever they are and keep your dreams alive. I’ll be uploading numerous blogs soon… stay tuned!

Can you meet me halfway?

Well, well, well. The end of another term is nigh and there is much to reflect upon. Living at uni sure is the full experience! I wanted to report on all my favourite memories however I have failed to pack as of yet and I don’t want to run after the plane like Pierce and Halle. A further hindrance in my attempts to escape to the village is that I have agreed to a pub visit at 4. This probably sums up this term. Rarely does a day go by without a jaunt to the Bot or union. We are part of the furniture there, the bouncers and bar staff know us, my lifetime aim is complete. I think you know you’re an alcoholic when you always read the word larger as lager. Ha, I’m only kidding. I know I could settle down. Yet beers with the boys have been a great highlight. I’ve also thoroughly enjoyed the challenges living here has produced. If there are ups there are downs. Life is a rollercoaster aint it Ronan. November was when I had this down but with help of others, I think I came through it and am now looking forward feverishly to next term. Other highlights include being cooked for by many people. I love being waited on. My Swiss chef certainly rules the roost and reigns supreme in the cooking department. Sorry Hedwig. All in all, it has been great and come the end of third year, I most definitely will cry.
My friend has the tattoo ‘carpe diem’ emblazoned on his stomach. Although I won’t applaud the absurdity of it (Tattoos are only cool on black dudes), the saying rings true. Time hurtles by faster than I head to the kebab van after a night out. So in hope to make the most of the moment, I catalogued some New Year resolutions. In all honesty these promises one makes at the turn of the year are like the Anthropology society. Keen and enthusiastic at the start but it will inevitably peter out. However 2011 is different and I shall stick to my oaths like chewing gum to a table. Numero uno is to improve my memory. I seem to forget names all the time and places where I’m meant to be. Secondly to be less of a bottle job. If you want something, grow a pair and get it. Secondly, I am finally going to see more of this world and nothing will prevent me travelling to foreign lands. Those Europeans won’t know what’s hit them when the R Kelly lands. And my final resolution is… I forget. Hey ho. Well I must dash. Peace and love. R Kelly has left the building.

p.s. dont know what the title is about and do I really look like this dude? (although slightly more handsome and suave!!

A Child's Good Nature

‘Unless you change and become like little children you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.’ I found myself relating to this quote whilst devouring a lovely beef roast with some family today. They have three kids and I noticed how these younglings are bereft of many negative characteristics that are evident in adults. They do not appear greedy, too ambitious or self-centred. Instead they are humble, kind hearted, innocent, vulnerable and so on. My only point here is I worry I’m leaving these positives of youth. I feel really sinful nowadays. A devil in the company of angels. Merely something I have been deciphering over in recent days. In other, more cheerful news, Harry Potter was magical. Good to see Hermione looking as good as ever. She once watched me deliver some magic on the rugby field though I didn’t get to talk to her. Shame because I was going to say, my name may not be Luna but I sure know how to Lovegood. I wonder if chat up lines ever work. My feeble attempts have only ever surmounted to murmured laughs or the occasional ‘get away you freak’ scream. Maybe handing a girl a tissue and asking if it smells of chloroform is a step too far. I jest.

Can You Write A Blog In 5 Minutes?

Wanting to re-ignite my passion for writing, I think I’m just going to ramble on and see where this blog takes me. I just watched some programme about obese kids. One girl was 24 stone at 13. Now how is that possible? Who’s to blame? I had collated numerous inventive jokes and jibes about it but I now deem them a little harsh. I sometimes wonder when jokes step over the line but I’ve always been interested in dark, rude and harsh comedy – it always seems to get the most laughs, which maybe indicates a bad side to the human race. In a way I felt a bit of sympathy with the individual. Even if she is partly to blame, she has a tough ordeal. On a plus note, my female housemates quickly abandoned their dominoes after seeing the size of her, not to mention the grotesqueness of surgery, and I felt obliged to tuck in!! That’s one of the many things I love about women; they barely ever finish their food therefore I feast. I have been labelled a magpie and a human hoover for this but I sure don’t care. Although to take ones nuts and red/blue slush puppy in the cinema is most certainly a step too far! Hmm what else to discuss as the hours tick by… Essays are piling up. I happen to have started the first one but it is such a chore. I tend to just do the bare minimum to get it out of the way! Or I simply find methods of procrastination (Everyone’s favourite word bar myself). I maintain that if it were something I was really passionate about, I’d give it my heart and soul. Yet what is it I’m truly passionate about? Back in the olden days I had a love for rugby, which was probably enhanced by being the star man on most, my teams. Pa would take me frequently and I know I was doing him proud. Yet this passion has melted away like snow in the summer sun. Another part of my history was a passion for church and studying religions. This still remains with me yet I don’t act upon it as much. The list could go on but I don’t want to bore you too much. Well whatever you are passionate about, you be proud of it and enjoy it to the fullest! Next time my blog hopefully will be on a topic rather than spontaneous sleepy talk. Rumour has it that this is going to the best Halloween ever; I read it in my HORRORscope! On that note, good night!

Oddballs On a Night Out

I’ve been in a rather unpleasant mood of recent, with a hatful of small illnesses combining well enough to relinquish the smile from my face. In reality, I just like a good old moan about certain things - all in jest of course. Last Monday, I tackled sickness and tiredness to show myself at a birthday and whilst sitting down sampling corona, (The three for five pound deal the only reason I’d drink a beer that’s flatter than a witches breast) I made some astute observations. Firstly, do people actually like this engineered, painstakingly awful music? I can understand people jumping around like kangaroos if Barry White was on, but this? Mama’s right; they don’t make music like they use to or is it just the value of time? Small groups by the bar also caused myself a casual chuckle. They’d stand there, nodding there heads, but no conversation would entail as if they spoke completely different languages. The only communication that occurred would be one of the group semi miming the chorus of a song to the others as if it would result in a chorus of laughs. Then it was back to looking at the floor, pretending to find amusement at things happening elsewhere and the occasional check of the mobile. You aint got no text honey; now go get some social skills! My third canny acknowledgment is the dude in the corner. There always is one! He clearly ventured to the club on his lonesome and quietly waited as if poised to attack. While bobbing to the ‘music’ his ‘rape eyes’ were inspecting any female that happened to pass. My estimation (Usually as accurate as Legolas with a bow and arrow) is that he ventured home on his lonesome also. So, as I stood in the bathroom evading people’s drunken talk, the guy trying to acquire money to wash my hands and (Less successfully) the ocean of piss on the floor, I wondered if going out to clubs is all its cracked up to be. Yet as I re-emerged into the room, I beheld a drunken women on heels reminiscent of a hippo on roller-skates. As she fell over screaming as if she was giving birth to triplets and receiving the care of those gaining their day’s good karma, a hyena-like cackle erupted from inside me. Yes, I decided, going out IS what its cracked up to be! Maybe I’m the sad one…

Road Trip

Went to the pub today only to have a coke! Pigs may well fly soon. Today represented the cultured dude I so attain to be rather than the loud buffoon that’s others often see. Along with my comrades we cruised into untamed lands and mystical mountains. Without sarcasm, the eerie silence and peaceful tranquillity of such places really soothed the soul. As waves crashed ferociously upon the rocks, the spraying water seemingly cleansed a liver that’s battered like cod. Witnessing the power of nature made me feel small so what will be will be. A man strolling the pebbled beach with his dog, maybe a vision into my future. I’m going to cease writing this ‘poetic’ dribble, but gratitude must go to the only good thing to come out of Luxemburg for taking us on this adventure. And may I also say how nice it was to be in an enticing restaurant for once, which vastly differs from the take-outs I so often succumb to… far nearer my standards. Back to normal tomorrow, in the pub all day. All aboard the Banter Train… destination unknown! It was just nice to do something different for once!

When Your Hero Falls

Human minds will always be riddled with contradiction. And this is one of the main critiques of Tupac Shakur’s vast amount of work. Yet, this is what makes the character so fascinating and appealing to his many followers including myself. His music is evidence of his constant quest and struggle to find meaning and ways of bettering life for his people as he toyed with numerous philosophies and thought. The music he created is brilliant to listen to. There is so much to be admired in his star qualities, his skills, his poetry, his success and so on. However, it is the passion behind the words, the emotions poured into his work and the meaning in the songs that make him a true inspiration to me and countless others. The list is endless to why he is a hero of mine but, in attempt not to bore you, I’ll keep it short and sweet. A man with no father, from extremely humble beginnings and a childhood of constantly moving homes eventually ended up as the biggest icon rap has ever produced. And with the fame, struggle and pain followed him like a shadow. Ordeals included being shot, verbally attacked by government officials and, through his own errors, time behind bars. Yet, despite it being easier to just leave that life behind, he stood up for his beliefs and continued to be a representative and voice for black communities and, as he would call it, the oppressed. Songs like ‘Keep your head up’ ‘Dear Mama’ ‘Unconditional Love’ and so on are pieces that can change my feelings in an instance. Not only did he educate through songs but gave people hope and the will to keep going. If ever down in the dumps, I’ll throw on one of his tracks.. His overlying message may have been of hope but at the same time, he stated how his future was hopeless. He may have talked of peace yet his lyrics, and indeed life, would always be shrouded with the reality of violence. And herein lies the contradiction that I aforementioned. This is what makes him so easy to relate to. He had massive pains in his life also and in the end his paranoia and so on got the better of him. But to witness what he achieved despite all of what he had been through was testament to his courageous character and this can inspire others to do likewise. Trying to find the answers to suffering, endlessly searching for a spiritual connection and so on reaches me deeply. Every social issue he seemingly touched upon and gave great insight on. He has influenced me greatly such as to try and educate myself more, to stand up for my beliefs, to treat my people well, to aspire to be a soldier and leader like he was, to be creative and so on. Recently it was the 14th anniversary of his death and he never truly got to see the ‘better days’ he talked of but he has lit a beacon of hope for millions of others. I hope I ain’t kissing his ass too much but to the rose that grew from concrete RIP!

Heroes

Over the last few weeks, my dangerous diet has been apallingly atrocious. Filthy fly-infested kebabs, ominously large pizzas and calorific Chinese dishes have been regular feeds. And it was when devouring a mildly meek Chicken Tikka Massala that I wondered how I could spice up my blogs. I came up with a solution, which may provide some minor interest. Rather than ramble on about nothing in particular as in prior writings, every month I will attempt to detail on a hero of mine. Good idea? Now I have got many people I admire in varying ways such as for their skill, courage or how they have changed the world for good. Certain musical artists, film stars, sporting legends, leaders and soldiers spring to mind. Yet, I want to talk of people who I not only admire but also have changed or impacted me in big ways. Definitions for this maybe over-used word are wide ranging, but one I particularly liked was someone who fights for a cause in a struggle. I also concur that one has to relate or be deeply touched by an individual to label he or she a hero. Bearing this in mind, I want to share with you my heroes and I ask you who are yours? And finally, while you have caught me in a sentimental and pensive mood, may I say you are all my heroes. People who work hard, who bring smiles to people, who help others, who aim for their goals, who defy the odds and so on are inspirational to me. Right, time to get my guard up again...

Summer thus far

I sometimes relate my hamlet dwelling to the Adams’ Family home in that we struggle to have the modern normalities. We only have three TV channels and the Internet is more limited than Lil Wayne’s rapping skills. So to explain my sporadic or even non-existent blogging of recent, I choose to blame the fact I cannot get on the website rather than my imagination ceasing to fire. Yet, to end my long hiatus, I have runaway like the Corrs to the local library. A week or so ago I had scribbled a piece slandering modern day relationships in comparison to my Grandparents 50 plus year marriage. I also commented on how memories are what make life so you have to make as many good memories as plausibly possible. However it went too far into the ‘softie’ realm, hence it did not make the cut. So as a more boring and less thought provoking edition, I thought I’d merely describe my summer highlights thus far. First of all, I have finally given in to modern demands and ridded myself of the CD player, which was here in the time of the dinosaurs, and replaced it with a shimmering I-pod. Now I have always questioned whether I need to splash ludicrous amounts of money on to these high-tech gadgets. Not to imply I’m a saint, but I do wonder whether money could be spent on better things. However, now that I have crammed on a load of Abba, Barry White and Dolly Parton, I’m enjoying it to the fullest. Secondly, in the wake of constant fat jibes aimed in my direction, I have taken it upon myself to hit the running with some friends. (I think the chubby jokes are so common as a few years back I was skinnier than Posh Spice only to balloon to the Rory of today.) Our jogging may draw stares of amusement. It is a slow pace so to passers by, we are seemingly walking whist shaking our arms ferociously. Oh, how effort kills. Thirdly and finally, I just love my village life. There have been plenty all-dayers in the pubs, cricket on the green and nightlong banter train riding. My people are family. Home is where the heart is and I have many attachments to this area! It may well prove difficult to tear myself away and return to university. Yet as my friend said, there is more to life that one needs to explore. Yet, with work looming for the whole of August, life is good; thank God. Memories indeed…

The Beautiful Game

After every fourth circle around the sizzling sun, arrives the greatest show on Earth. A competition enriched with glorious history of roaming giants, leaping legends and where mere mortals became kings! Ok, maybe I’m getting a little carried away but I’m more excited for the World Cup than Hendrik Dennemeyer is when talking about sex. Sorry mum, this is why the fridge has been cleared of food to be crammed with billions of beautiful beer bottles. For the next month I’m going to be glued to the box! However what really has struck me is not just the slick, stylish skills that’ll be on show but the global impact it has on all the supporters. People across the world unite, strangers actually speak to each other and passionate patriotism ignites. Pictures of kids portrayed in the hosting Rainbow Nation show lives that appear so less well-off than our own in terms of wealth, health and so on. However the forthcoming tournament excites them and lets them dream that they may one day be the new Pele. This is the beautiful game to me! Let’s hope the over-paid pompous tarts that play today don’t kill it! They do need to be role models but I don’t want to be a hypocrite. I don’t like people judging me with no evidence, which a certain person did the other week. I’ll let her have her thoughts but I’m not going to worry about that; Just let the games begin!!

Me and my Chins

Looking back over past photos of golden days, on the time waster that is Facebook, I happily conclude that there WAS a day when I didn’t have more chins than China. People used to say I had my mothers chin. Nowadays they also say my second chin is that of my fathers, the third is definitely similar to my cousins while the fourth is just utterly unique. Splendid! The best banter is when it has an echo of truth to it! I can only point my finger to one reason why I’ve had to withstand this barrel of abuse. The lure of the tantalisingly tasty drink that is beer! An interesting fact from yours truly is that there are roughly 210 calories in a pint of Guinness. So when I guzzle ten of these every other day, not only am I pummelling dangerous amounts of alcohol into my blood but also, I’m almost reaching my recommended calorie intake. This is without taking into account my, lets say, less than healthy food diet! Why do I do this? My body is a temple; you have to take off your shoes to enter me! Sorry, how crude of me! My aim is to get to some decent standard of rugby again; it pains me to see all these wannabes thinking they’re good! I suppose my recent trend of jogging will help; even if I drip sweat, contemplate cramp and grasp for breath as if I’m drowning (As Josephides would say). And that’s just to keep up with my Genevan fashion guru. I was on the ‘no pain no pain’ motto until recently. Yet as Bigger says, what’s the point of trying to look perfect, I sure don’t care! And it means I can keep up the greatest social thing in the world. Sitting in a pub all day! Hmm a blog about chins and beer… sorry!

Juggling with Wisdom

If you throw numerous balls into the air and attempt to catch all of them, inevitably you wont catch any. Faster than Usain Bolt, they will fall like volcanic ash from your grasp, squirm through your outreaching fingers similar to a slippery salmon and escape like Harrison Ford in the Fugitive. Yet this fugitive cannot be caught once free. So with the beauty and luxury that is hindsight, the option you must partake in is crystal clear. Go for just the one ball; set your mind firmly onto catching this and do not let go! This appears reminiscent to life; we cannot have everything so maybe you should set aside certain possibilities and aim for the goal you truly desire most (Unless you can juggle of course!). Well clearly I’m no Aristotle, Plato or Dumbledore in the philosophy department so maybe I should just stick to what I’m good at. Then again I don’t have the faintest (Like Becca at the doctors) idea what that is! Sorry Becca, I am glad you’re ok and sorry everyone else for the terrible attempt at a gag. Well I’ve been labelled many varying things since my debuting blog from gay to the new Oscar Wilde – well ok, no real difference at all. However I refuse to be a sell out regardless of the taunts and heckles from people who trail me in the realm of banter by a country mile! To my many followers, yes all three of them, I will be blogging away in the upcoming days! Now I look forward to revelling in some Ready Salted crisps!

Bow and Arrows with Russell

Well I feel like I am talking to no one bar my angel Gina with her pearly teeth whiter than the peak of Everest. However I quite like that; I don’t have to hold back or worry about offending people though that is probably what I’ll end up doing! What to write? Well Robin Hood may well be a good starting topic. Witnessing Crowe russell (get it?) some magic up is always an enjoyable thing for me. His body is a panzer tank yet at the same time you can tell he enjoys his beers! He’s not, I conclude, one of those ridiculously ripped men who clearly have no lives nor, on the other hand, is he a fat slob. I would happily be his Maid Marian however if he saw me writing this I don’t think he’d be so keen. The other thing that sparked my dud of an imagination was the way their little communities interact. They work together in the day and get drunk together (Getting drunk, I think this could lead to a good ethical debate of a blog soon) at night while singing and listening to live music. Casting aside images of it being a disease filled, rat infested and plague packed lifestyle, I choose to envision a life where people merrily relax and enjoy themselves. In other words, is this modern life, full of gadgets and skyscrapers, really all that? In the snobbish west we look down on these ‘simple’ lifes but it is these lives that appear void of work and exam stress, spiralling debts and the general constant pressures. All this recession bullshit. Today with my main Nottingham lass, Gen, she gets denied entry into the library for not having a card. Why are people so uptight and have to follow every stupid law when instead they could just give a fellow human a helping hand? Everybody is for themselves in these modern towering and suffocating cities. There’s a lack of community.

I wish I could fly away to a world of my own,
One of peace and dreams,
A land of no tears, a land of no fears,
And the waves wash out the screams.
Yet as I get beaten down, trodden on,
Those clouds seem miles away,
Yet I can still yearn, I can still earn,
A life in a brighter day.
A place where one can smile,
Where there’s no hint of the dark,
You’re never alone as this world of my own,
Gives me a happy heart.

Just a little cheeky poem based on the idea of an alternative world. I think everyone is fascinated with ideas of heavens or different worlds. It’s nice to escape once in a while from this fast life; hence calling this blog A world of my own. And Russell, you can join me whenever you want.