Breaking News!

New blog in development (stop)

First post immanent (stop)

I have found my va va voom (again) (stop)

www.TheWesternCwm.com

File Closed

It started with a chance encounter with Sting's son and now it ends with, well, nothing. I have thrown in a picture of fireworks on the Mersey to celebrate Liverpool's 800th birthday celebrations to spice things up. I am spent. I am not the person I was when I started writing this blog but I am not sure that I have 'grown'. If I have grown I am not sure that I like what I have grown into.

I don't know why I write here anymore. I have lost my passion for it.
Liverpool Headlines has reached its conclusion for me.

I thank you for reading what I have written. Take care

Take My Hand, Knot Your Fingers Through Mine

Sat in Lord Mountbatten's old residence as Miranda walked up the aisle I couldn't help but get butterflies, I imagine it is normal for your mind to wander at time like these and mine was walking for miles. She looked beautiful as you would imagine a bride would on her wedding day and I got a lump in the back of my throat as the bride and groom read their vows, genuinely taken over by the occasion.

Dinner was provided later in the afternoon and I was given a special honour of sitting with the brides mother's family. I was sat between Grandmother and a celebrity couple, Tim Henman and Leanne Battersby from Corrie, and given that we were all northerners on a jolly down south we had a good time. We were laughing so much that people began to stare but when gran turned to me and asked "do you eat rice?" there was little else that could be expected to happen.

The evening reception saw the arrival of more familiar faces and as you would expect there was dancing with glow sticks. Oh, I should mention that I rescued the intoxicated groom from drowning in a big pond and that when everybody but the Bride, RC and I were left in the hotel bar we had drinks with coaching staff from Ipswich Town FC.

I Think I Just Touched A Sock

I have a wedding this Friday in St Albans. My to do list for the week includes losing about half a stone, finding a new suit, finding a date, watching the England v India ODI in Manchester and to start unfriending people on Facebook. It is going to be a busy week.

PQ and I caught up over the weekend and we visited the Amistad ship at the docks, I was hoping to see Morgan Freeman and PQ was hoping to see some pirates. Although her need to be close to all things piratey is close to being an obsession I think it is a little more sane compared to my need to video mug celebs. The best we came up with was the ships engineer from Massachusetts and I convinced him to be my Facebook friend. I think he agreed so that I would leave him alone, given that I was video mugging him at the time I can't blame him for taking any get out that came his way.

Given my busy schedule I am going offline for a while. Think of me while I am gone. It is not a "and I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and hell followed with him" style goodbye. More of a "smoke me a kipper, I'll be back for breakfast"

The Anthracite Statues Of The Horses Sleep In The Fields

Listen. It is night moving in the streets, the processional salt slow musical wind in Tithebarn Street and Hackin's Hays. We walk in the narrow aisles of industry. The rain hides behind the clouds, the breeze stands still and allowed us to pass.

Time passes. Listen. Time passes.

Alone until she dies. I who kissed her once when she wasn't looking and never kissed her again although she was looking all the time.

You can hear the dew falling and the hushed town breathing

Now behind the eyes and secrets of the dreamers in the streets rocked to sleep by the sea I walk the narrow aisles alone.

Outrage: Mutiny On The Bounty

Everyone was going on about the arrival of the Black Pearl over the weekend, the Echo had the headline "Black Pearl Sails In On Mersey Mission" and PQ was literally giddy with excitement. I assumed that the Black Pearl was coming to Liverpool as the Echo stated the ship was "the Black Pearl, featured in the Johnny Depp Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy". Not much wiggle room there.

Now I know as much about pirates as much as the next man but when I wandered down to the docks I saw the HMS Bounty which looked liked this


which is not the Black Pearl and looks nothing like the Black Pearl which looks like the image on the right. I feel betrayed. It wasn't a fake Black Pearl. It was a different ship entirely.

Thankfully this was cleared up before people boarded and they managed to raise £25,000 for the Cutty Sark which was probably set on fire because they told some disgruntled tourist they were about board the Starship Enterprise. The Daily Post cleared things up.

Its A Piece Of Cake

The Preston Food and Wine Appreciation Society met again last night and on the agenda this week was "how to seal a bottle, cork or screw top?". Given my recent trip to Portugal, home of the finest cork makers on the planet I made a strong case for corks. Any opposition was swiftly dismissed as heresy and the discussion was won. But later that night...

Myself and the Playwright had a joke face off during which I was giving him a run for his money with classics such as "I have a nut allergy, when I was at school the kids used to feed me revels as a form of Russian roulette" and "A man orders a pizza, he is asked if he wants it cut into six pieces or eight and he says 'make it six, I couldn't eat eight' " but for every doctor joke, the playwright had a dentist joke. For every knock knock he had a husband and wife.

As I was close to defeat Tim, who was shouting his support for me in my corner in between shoving smelling salts under my nose and pouring water over my head, threw in a few 'Man walks into a bar' but the Playwright was in his element and was too powerful for us. He landed a "its easy to distract fat people, its a piece of cake" square on the chin and I was out for the count. I think I had one last "two cannibals are eating a clown and one says to the other, 'does this taste funny to you' " in me but, like the Ali's and the Tyson's of the joke telling world, the Playwright had shown is pedigree and still had plenty in the tank.

Tim threw in the napkin.

Don't You Know That I'll Be Around To Guide You

I am thinking of flying to Sarajevo for a few days so I emailed the traveller who was there a couple of years back as I was looking for tips on where to stay, what to see etc. In his response he summed up all he thought I needed to know
1) Don't throw frisbees around the train terminal
2) Don't wash in the fountain in the town square
3) The newspaper stands sell hardcore jazz mags
This is why I don't buy rough guides, they never tell you what you really need to know

Nowadays everybody wanna talk like they got something to say
But nothin comes out when they move they lips
Just a bunch of gibberish
And m***** f****** act like they forgot about Dre

I'll Do Graffiti If You Sing To Me In French

I have been thinking of all the great dates I have had over the years. There have been a few that really stand out and one in particular.

It was a few years ago, she was the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Long blond hair, blue eyes and legs up to her neck. From what I remember she was from the south of France and had a wonderful accent. She was working as a model when I met her and we had a great time, I was sure after a few hours that she was the one for me. Not really sure if it counts as a date though. We had something to eat, saw a film together but then the plane landed and I never saw her again.

There's Always Something Happening

The Editor doesn't live in Sheffield, he lives in Doncaster which is a lot nicer than I expected but a lot further away when you overshoot the junction and end up in Chesterfield (I got the the crooked spire and turned back). On Saturday we took a trip to the Yorkshire Sculpture Park and tried to convince ourselves that we were cultured as we broke out the picnic that consisted of Fosters and Nik Naks. After a while the editor said the sculptures started to resemble our picnic. I dont think these look like a can of Fosters.


The YSP (as those in the know call it) is well worth a visit.

Sheffield Headlines?

Off to Sheffield for the weekend to see the Editors new house. We do this a lot. I bought a new watch so he bought a new watch, he bought red trainers so I bought a pair of red converse, I bought my apartment so he buys a townhouse. It is an expensive game we play

I spoke to him last night and he made me promise to explain Facebook to him.
"I want to be down with the kids, I understand blogs, but I just got myself on friends reunited and now people are telling me to use Facebook" was his plea for help.

If you are wondering what the Editor looks like then here you go. It is a close match I assure you. Who do I love more? Alan Johnson from Peep Show or the Editor? Mmm...

Not sure why but here are my top five crisps
1) M and S sea salt and black pepper
2) Wotsits
3) Golden Wonder cheese and onion
4) Texas BBQ Pringles (once you pop)
5) Lime Infused Walkers Sensations

Sir Bobby Gandolf

Liverpool Man: He is from my neck of the woods, Gandolf came from Burnley
Kate Moss (not really, obviously): He is dead you know
LM: Who, Sir Ian Mckellen?
KM: Yeah! The guy who played Bob Geldolf
LM: What? You mean 'Gandolf' from from Lord Of The Rings
KM: No from Harry Potter
LM: I don't think Ian Mckellen was in Harry Potter
Rugby Correspondent: She means Richard Harris
LM: Do you mean Dumbledore?
KM: Yeah, its really sad, he died.

Sometimes I make up stories for this blog (really, believe it, its called creative licence) but this one is factual.

Education is our passport to the future,
For tommorrow belongs to those who prepare for it today

One Night Of Magic Rush

Saturday 20:00 - 03:00 Manchester
Lyman's stag do went very well from what I hear. I recommended they swing by Obsessions, a strip club, which employed a lady call Bailey. I use the term 'lady' loosely, not because she comes from Thailand, but because of the way she conducts herself. A few weeks ago she was throwing herself at me at Deansgate Locks in blatant breach of the rules (my rules) which I object to but she was hot and she told me to look her up if I was ever in the mood to go to a strip club. I understand that is where Lyman ended up.

Saturday 20:00 - 03:00 Burnley
The wedding ceremony went very well from what I hear. I recommend the Inn On The Wharf pub which was the venue for the evening which employs very efficient staff. I use the term efficient, not in respect of the service to customers, but because they look after the business by giving us ridiculously short measures. I like big pints. For a few hours after the bride and groom left we were still throwing ourselves (myself) around the dance floor which was plenty of fun but The Playwright wanted more. I understand that The Playwright ended up in a place called 'Lava and Ignite'.

I don't go to strip clubs and I don't go to clubs in Burnley (not because of the the voting patterns in the local elections). The reason for not going to either is fear

For each a road
For everyman a religion
Face everybody and rule
For everything and rumble
Forget everything and remember
For everything a reason

You've got the fear

I'm King Of The World

I always hoped to be king of something one day, perhaps of Liverpool (or the world), but I struggle keeping up with my schedule at the moment. If I was king I think it would get a bit too much. As an example, yesterday I landscaped part of my parents garden, varnished a bench, went to Lyman's stag do in Manchester, went to a wedding in Burnley and did a bit of shopping in between with Alfie. It was a good night. Unfortunately I danced like Carlton Banks again.

I do enjoy a good wedding but it often leads to conversations about relationships which I can find awkward. We were talking about whether long distance relationships can work and I commented that I have been involved in one for a while and it is tough going... but she is getting out on probation in a couple of weeks so things should get better. It didn't even get a smile.

Anyway, Lyman promised me a much touted trip to a place called Bradley's in central London while Alfie is promising a birthday party down there. No doubt both will be arranged for the same day. When will it end? I need a diary secretary.

If You Aint Got No Money Take Your Broke Ass Home

In an attempt to start the Liverpool wine and food appreciation society PQ and I had the inaugural meeting in The Sir Thomas Hotel, purveyors of the finest bar food this side of the Mersey. This meeting had a slightly different feel to it to the meetings of the Preston group, perhaps it had something to do with me talking about being the keeper of the hands of mystery. I should not talk about my mysterious hands to women who I have not known for a long time. It freaks them out. Understandable really.

PQ thinks my ego needs to be brought into check and I asked for some constructive criticism. Instead I was given stinging criticism which included the following "top 5" (and rebuttals)
1) Always being late. ( I was in the bar at the right time, PQ thought we were meeting outside)
2) Poor table manners (it was crusty bread, nuff said)
3) I wear too many cheap looking shirts (I was wearing Savile Row) (Richard James)
4) My hands of mystery look like jazz hands (is that a criticism?)
5) Being cheap (I had ordered two drinks but I was thirsty so I drunk them both)

She did manage to deliver these in under a minute which makes me think she had given this a bit of thought.

The streets outside your window overflooded
People staring, they know you've been broken
Repeatedly reminded by the looks on their faces
Ignore them tonight and you'll be alright
We'll cast some light and you'll be alright

But It Is A School Night

Everyone came out on Tuesday night for the monthly food and wine appreciation society. Represented at the table were Beth, Leanne, Tim (the BLT), The Playwright, The Stage Manager and The Director (and two drunks)

I am a little jealous of the time they all get to spend together especially as they are all up in Preston and I am in Liverpool. The result of this is I am a little out of place with the conversation. Sometimes I say things that don't quite fit in or sit well with the group.
The question was asked "how did you get ex lovers back?"
The Playwright said he sent roses
The Stage Manager sent chocolates
Tim wrote a poem
I said I pushed her out of a first floor window.

Don't act like it came as a surprise,
Don't believe me even look into these eyes
This cant go on so I should just,
Regret it, regret it, regret it,
And even though I left you I'll,
Forget it, forget it, forget it

I Want To Ride My Bicycle

While in London watching the Tour de France I was inspired to started cycling more often. I have taken on the bicycling lifestyle fully, I have the bicycle, the books, the lycra, the controlled drugs. Everything I need to enter major competitions.

More Than Just A Green Theme Park

It took us 13 hours to get to St Agnes on Friday so it was not a good idea going to the Eden Project in the afternoon when we were expecting to travel back. On arrival we took more boy band pictures around (and on) my car and we followed the winding paths to the entrance. It is a great sight when you leave the gift shop/ticket office/cafe. It looks like this



A real feat of engineering and a fusion of education with botanical excellence that cannot be found elsewhere on the planet. But once you get over the big green house it is, as a young girl behind me put it, "just a load of plants".

We took in the legendary chippy in Burham-on-Sea (by the petrol station) which I somehow missed off my top five. At this point I was informed that HP will spun the hell out of his car in the camp site in an attempt to spray the Knock Knock lady's tent will mud. Sometimes I envy him.

The Ultimate Destination

The signs at the entrance to Lands End call it the ultimate destination. Perhaps that is why the charge to you get into the place and to have a picture with "the sign" (pictured below by Alfie). They also do a lot of the "first and last" this that and the other. The was the first and last post box(not operational), Gift shop (very tacky) and cafe (full of yanks). There was a moment of excitement when I thought I spotted a whale. But it turned out to be a small boat in the distance.

Nookie in Newquay

Took me ages to come up with that and I am very proud of myself.

We started the day in the Lost Gardens Of Heligan which took us ages to find and to keeps us from getting lost in the 200 acre grounds we were given a map and a compass. It was like orienteering all over again. The best bit was seeing the baby owls which had eaten their siblings earlier in the year because they thought they looked tasty. Twisted.

I taught Alfie how to make owl noises by blowing into your hands and he is a quick learner. Within 90 minutes we had gone from muffled puff to playing "No Limits" by 2 Unlimited.

Then it was on to Walkabout in Newquay (not Newport as I originally thought) and the legendary Berties which was full of drunk women. I could have repeated yesterday's headline with a different meaning if you catch my drift. I had my bottom pinched twice and I was the victim of drunken cupping. It was a first. I felt a little violated.

I met a lady from Staines called Hannah who had a great pair of eyes on her. Entrancing. She was feeling lonely as her friend was off cupping men left right and centre. We spoke for a while and then I mentioned the owl calls and it went down hill from there. I think I need a new angle.

God knows what is hiding in that weak and drunken heart

I guess you kissed the girls and made them cry

Those hard faced Queens of misadventure

God knows what is hiding in those weak and sunken eyes

A fiery throng of muted angels

Giving love and getting nothing back

She Gave Me Crabs

I was in Looe throwing my line about on the shoreline close to the the docks. I was trying to catch crabs with my manky piece of bait and a hook with very little success but I had so much fun doing it. I was befriended by a young scottish lady who was the worst teacher ever. She shouted and swore which made me nervous. I didn't like her.
I think she felt sorry for me at the end of the day as I had not caught anything so she gave me her bucket which was full of crabs. Some of em were pretty big.

We pitched our tent last night in the rain and tucked into the 3p french baguette that Moonlight Graham bought from the Asda in Bodmin. It had only turned midnight when a stroppy in the next tent tapped on the side of the tent
"Knock Knock" is what she said
"Hello???" Was the response coupled with fits of the giggles at the whole onomatopoeic intro
"Can you keep it down, I dont know if you realise how much sound travels, I have been trying to sleep four an hour now"
Now I know that we probably should have just gone to sleep and let it go but it was our first night and we were having a conversation in our tent. What is wrong with that?
I think she was mean and so did Moonlight. So we took a couple of her tent pegs half way out. I hope the wind picks up int he next couple of nights.

Slide Over Here!

The boys took a trip to Cornwall but that is another story for another day. The night before I went to see this man with Beth, Tim and Leanne.

I know, you are all thinking "how did he score Dean Friedman tickets??" It is all about knowing people. I cant believe I met him in person and got to see Duncan Goodhew! I feel so honoured.

He played all the classics. Or at least that is what I was told as I walked in half way through the gig. I did get to touch him at the end though.

Lydia, Lydia how come you understand?
I can offer you nothing at all. This is more than I had planned.
Lydia, Lydia I am at your command,
At least until morning comes, then, I must be off again.

Over The Top

Paintballing brought out a different side to me. We were taking heavy fire on the right flank. The enemy village was within sight, we were running low on ammo and I had thrown my last smoke grenade to provide us with as much cover as possible. The barrels we crouched behind pinged contantly as a hail of paintballs rained down upon us.

LM: "Lets do it, lets go over"

HP: "Are you crazy?!!!...!"

LM: "We can take the village"

HP: "You will kill us both and for what? For honour?"

I grabbed his overalls around his shoulder and pulled him close

LM: "For death and glory!"

We charged forward.

War war is stupid

And people are stupid

And love means nothing

In some strange quarters

It took me a while to figure that out. The penny dropped soon after I was shot in the face. I thought I was PJ and Duncan all over again.

Run Forest Run

We are paint balling tomorrow and there has been a lot of macho talk, mostly from me, which is regrettable. HP says I have been giving out too much lip this week. He thinks that there is a very strong chance of friendly fire or "blue on blue" incidents.

He has given me some tips

1) If you see something sticking out, shoot it

2) Nothing macho about being shot in the groin and not having taken any precautions

3) Move move move

4) Rambo movies are not good guidance

5) Have the heart to lose the life that people want to live (what? suicide???)

I think he was struggling a bit toward the the end. He also suggested that I should call him The General and we should follow him as he is looking to establish a new world order. The picture below is from Platoon. Perhaps something from Apocalypse Now would have been more appropriate.

Welcome To England

People are going on about asylum seekers all the time. It annoys me. I explain to them that many people who have come to this country seeking refuge have gone on to become pillars of the community. Take Paddington Bear for example. Came to London fleeing from the ethnic cleansing of bears in Peru and made this country his home. Who doesn't like Paddington Bear? I have a friend to whom Paddington is the most favourite of all the bears. This is what I tell people, some of them take it on board, others look at me like I am a mental. I wish people would treat all bears the same. With compassion.

Top Five Bears
1) Paddington Bear
2) Panda Bear
3) Koala Bear
4) Care Bears
5) Winnie the Poo

Note Rupert is not on the list. That is because it is a stuck up, upper middle class, public school, good for nothing, boring bear. And he wears rubbish trousers the brandy drinking, golf club membership owning, Tory voting pompus twit.

Losing It

If anyone has lost some Ford keys on Bixteth Street then they are in the hallway in my building. They have been there for a while. I find a lot of things in my building. On one occasion I found a small boy. I didn't get any thanks for re-uniting him with his parents.

Top Five Finds
1) Small Boy
2) £10 on the street
3) Richard James shirt for £20 in the sale
4) 100 year old Kipling book (for £10)
5) Rosetta Stone

Something is Leaking

The couple in the ground floor flat are very pleasant people and this weekend they threw a party to celebrate their one year wedding anniversary. Not that I was invited, they just put a note under my door to say that they will be loud. I don't mind... really, I don't.

There was a bit of an after party party tonight which again I don't mind but if they think that they can tell their mates to pee in the plant pots in the court yard then they are very much mistaken. Especially when I happen to have my head out of my window (three floors up) as the guy whips out his Mr Johnson. I shouted down just before he got warmed up and told him that it was not a good idea.

His response was "but there is no options" as he pointed at the party (with his finger!).

At the age of 26 I think I have turned into a grumpy old man. Now where did I leave my slippers...

Clock of Anonymity Removed

I have decided to show myself on this blog for the first time. With a bit of help from HP I have been busy creating another alter ego. This is what i would look like if I starred in an episode of the Simpsons.

Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner

I have a 18:04 train to catch from London Euston

17:00 sit down with Alfie and Josh in the Giraffe restaurant in the Brunswick. A farewell meal.
17:30 "Euston is only 2 minutes walk from here" says Josh (the local)
17:45 "We better ask for the bill"
17:50 We leave the restaurant, Josh leads the way
17:55 We arrive at Kings Cross St Pancras. I wont repeat what Alfie and I said to Josh.
17:59 Why wont the traffic lights turn red to that I can cross the road. I can see the station entrance
18:03 flying down platform 4, I see a Virgin train it must be the one.

18:04 The realisation that it wasn't

Another night in London town? The place is growing on me. I am starting to feel at home.

"Josh Lyman's office"

Josh has come good and is now Campaign Manager for a Cabinet Minister so Alfie and I met up with him on Friday night for a few drinks in St Stephens Tavern so we could catch up on antics in Whitehall. He provided a fascinating insight into the psyche of political operators in the centre of UK democracy. He also mentioned that the Houses of Parliament has its own Florist and that you can buy a pair of tights in there for £1.50. I know this information may appear to irrelevant at the moment but it may be worth remembering anyway.

Hunger set in around 9pm so we sought out a chippy in Covent Garden which sounded more and more amazing as the journey (long walk) continued. When I arrived the chips were worth the walk but the place was closer to an east end allotment than the Hanging Gardens of Babylon that it was described as.

We were joined at the chippy by Alfie's house mate Ainsley who showed us some of the finer establishments in the West End. Ainsley intrigued me, not because she is the daughter of a Premiership football manager, for purely none footballing reasons. Plus we saved each other from a very loud man in a bar by using a combination of our body language and well timed remarks (More sophisticated than crossing our arms and calling him names I assure you) (I wanted to do that but he was bigger than me). Although soon after I did have to explain the rules.

Top 5 Chippys
1) Cross Street Chippy Preston
2) The place we went to in Covent Garden
3) Rays Plaice in Rawtenstall
4) The place in Whitby with the Young Fish Fryer of the Year
5) Somewhere in Southport. Not exactly sure where.

I'll meet you by the underground

Met Alfie at Euston Station for the start of a new journey on Thursday, hopped on the back of his Classic Vespa and headed up to road to the Jazz Cafe to see Skye. She is awesome, great performer and has a very endearing character.

Afterwards I went for Japanese food for the first time. It was lovely but Alfie had to remind me that noodles and spaghetti are not the same thing and are not to be eaten in the same manner.
"Put the fork down" was the phrase of the day.

Running through my life right now I don't regret a thing
The things I do just make me laugh and make me wanna drink
I'd like to meet a mad man who makes it all seem sane
To work out all these troubles and what there is to gain
I'm falling

Phone Wars

Mobile phone wars are dangerous. Things get out of hand.

Someone got hold of HP's phone and sent "Dont worry she will never find out" to his girlfriend
The response was swift, later that day HP snached a ringing phone and I heard "He cant talk now because he has something in his mouth"
This was followed with text to HP's Dad that said "In the bath thinking of you"

Pirates of the Liverpool

I hate good byes, especially the big ones. The important ones. As a distraction I offered an emerency wind up mobile phone charger and a good bye present. Funky eh? Wind up is the future. I've tasted it. Ew, weird.

Later that evening I met up with the Pirate Queen and we caught up over a couple of mojitos in Lago. Unfortuately we dont often have the chance to catch up as my management consultancy business is starting to take off and PQ is spending more and more time on the ones and twos DJing. We agreed another meeting in the next two weeks in the famed Blue Angel on Seel Street and I have sourced a rare pirate pouch for her, recovered from a 18th century pirate ship sunk by HMS Bounty in the Carribean.

I enjoy my business, I use it as an opportunity to invent management phrases that make no sense. Especially as I work as a consultant for a sandwich company. Here are my top five favourites

1) Focused extended competence
2) Radical group wide enterprise
3) Total enhanced competence
4) Strategic integrated solution
5) Holistic re-engineered scenario

College Reunion : Strictly Come Dancing

The second night of the college reunion is traditionally a themed party and this year it was a Strictly Come Dancing theme, there was a Bruce Forsythe look-a-like and the works. Unfortunately, Chip had gone home during the day so good company was harder to come by. Thankfully, I bumped into Hannah the Occupational Therapist who was my dancing partner from a previous reunion and we hit the dance floor. I had been coached the night before by some seasoned dancers who had come up from London especially for the dance off and they gave me pointers (Hands and arms closer to my hips not my head, no more pointing, no more biting lower lip, confident smile).

As the night went on I became more and more confident and I can remember running/dancing on one spot. I am sure it looked good(?).
I didn't want the night to end, even when the music stopped Hannah and I kept dancing. We had to do it by singing Queen - Don't Stop Me Now. The only problem is my voice gets croaky at 2am and neither of us new the words.... It didn't stop us

Don't stop me now I'm having such a good time
I'm having a ball don't stop me now
If you wanna have a good time Just give me a call
Don't stop me now ('Cause I'm having a good time)
Don't stop me now (Yes I'm having a good time)
I don't wanna stop at all

College Reunion : The Manchester Diaries

I like the reunions as often you meet people who who have never met before or you meet people you only see at the reunion. I was working the crowd last night, I was feeling confident as I was wearing my Bat Fink t-shirt which means that I don't have to come up with an opening line. People do the work for me. Lazy, I know.

To my surprise the opening line I got was someone calling my name when I had no idea who they were. It was a guy who now works for the Chile Information Project so we will call him Chip. Chip knew one of the minxes and as a result knew a lot about me (scary).

Chip and I got on great (ignore his comment about my girly looking nails) and he taught me about the "Cointreau Wave". Then he showed me the wave. I waved, he waved and then we parted company so that I could continue to work the crowd. I look forward to seeing Chip next year.

Over and over and over and over and over
Like a monkey with a miniature cymbal
The joy of repetition really is in you
Under and under and under and under and under
The smell of repetition really is on you
And when I feel this way I really am with you

College Reunion

Every June my old college arranges a two night reunion and each year it is hosted in a different UK city. This year it is held in Manchester which is where I will spent the next couple of nights. I don't have high hopes this year as on the way over to Manc a crow flew itself, kamikaze style, into a van I was driving behind and looped onto my windscreen. I hope it was the wind blowing it bent wing and that it was not still alive as i swept it into the middle lane with my wiper. Surely this cant be a good sign? (rhetorical)

Its face haunts me in my sleep.

To make matters worse i was accosted by a stripper called Bailey. I wont go into it

Is This A Dagger Which I See Before Me?

Been out hunting this week in the peak district. I learnt quickly that I was rubbish at it so I picked on some easier targets.
You may judge but when you have to feed youself you have to hunt.
If you are rubbish at fishing etc you get hungry.
If you are hungry and you come across this (below) you think all your prayers have been answered.
So I asked myself, what would Ray Mears do?
Lucky I packed my Marks and Spencer BBQ marinade (and a knife).

Get a taste in my mouth
As desperation takes hold
Is it something so good
Just cant function no more?
When (my) love (of BBQ chicken), love will tear us apart again

When The Sun Hits The Sky

Feeling a little under the weather and I still don't have GP in the city so I headed off to the NHS walk in centre on Great Charlotte Street. If you are thinking of going be aware they ask strange questions. Most of them ask for simple answers; name, address date of birth.
But then they ask hypotheticals;
Where would you go if you didn't come here?
If all the seat were taken would you stand or sit on the floor?
Would you be more comfortable wearing corduroy trousers in the day or evening?
It was all a little bit weird

Top 5 Pies
1) Chicken and mushroom with a yorkshire pudding on top (served in The Wellington in Preston)
2) Star Gazy Pie (heard about this yesterday)
3) Pizza Pie
4) 3.14
5) Apple Pie

When The Sun Goes Down

I found myself in the Anglican Cathedral's grave yard last night and believe you me it is a scary place. I was with a guy called Artichoke who was scary enough and he was showing me the supernatural side of Liverpool. He also showed me the pyramid grave in the grounds of St Andrews church on Rodney Street. Legend has it that William McKenzie, who is buried there, was quite a gambler and one night he was challenged by a mysterious dutch man called Mr B.L Ze Bob (who always wore red shoes) to a game of poker.

Mr McKenzie was a wealthy man, and a known womaniser, who prospered as Liverpool developed into the major shipping port in the world . However, he did have a soft spot for one bit of strumpet who unfortunately died at a young age which made McKenzie angry. So angry that he threw his bible into his living room fire and became an atheist (back in the day being an atheist and a bible burner was not the done thing). Anyway... the game of poker.

Mr Ze Bob and McKenzie played into the early hours of the morning and things were not going well (for McKenzie) and he lost everything! Mr Ze Bob offered a chance to win everything back. The condition was that McKenzie must wager his soul on the last hand.
You would think, being an atheist, this wouldn't bother him but McKenzie fell to his knees and cried like a girl when he lost. Mr Ze Bob laughed and said (with big booming voice) "Do not cry my defeated foe, I will not take your soul until you are laid to rest in your grave." There was then a puff of smoke and the geezer was gone.

McKenzie, thinking this opponent may have been Lucifer, came up with a great plan. If on his death he was buried above the ground then Lucifer could not claim his prize.
So he is buried in here, entombed, sitting at a table holding a winning hand against his chest.


Top 5 Ghosts
1) Casper
2) Obi Wan Kenobe
3) Patrick Swayze
4) The old librarian at the start of Ghostbusters
5) Dementors

Turn Forever Hand In Hand

Russell Brand and I were chatting on the south back of the Thames about this and that. We look like a modern day Laurel and Hardy with his skinny jeans and my broadening (is that a word?) upper body and baggy t-shirts. Unfortunately the joys of people watching when in one spot can be quite ephemeral so we hopped on a big red open top bus and took a tour of London as evening drew in.

My dreams are getting stranger and stranger.

Top 5 Comedians, Comedy Actors and Comedy Duos
1) Dave Spikey
2) Jimmy Carr
3) Morecambe and Wise
4) Richard Prior and Gene Wilder
5) Lenny Henry Ricky Gervais

We Live and Die In These Towns

Walking down Victoria Street in Liverpool today was the place to be. Everyone was out, tourists with snapping cameras, well dressed men with slicked back hair and their tidy wives.
There was one curly haired man who stood out from the crowd, not because he had big curly blond hair and was wearing shorts and flips flops. He stood out because he was Ben Lunt from Shipwrecked and he had a crowd of girls hanging off him. So much fame in such a short time is impressive which makes me wonder, who are my top five famous Liverpudlians?

Top 5 Famous Liverpudlians
1) Mike Myers
2) Kim Cattrall
3) Cilla Black
4) Craig Charles
5) Tom Baker

Away From Here

Wooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! What a great time at the cricket. Myself and the Playwright headed off to Old Trafford with our brie and grape sandwiches, my new sun hat and a six pack of cold beers (security took these from us and the front door) but I would burn in the fires of hell before they took my hat. Not that they wanted it, they just wanted the beers. A bit of a waste of a speech and my big voice.

It was a great day of cricket and to top it all we had three streakers!!! The strangest thing was when one of the streakers approached our stand men who had not taken a photo all day whipped out their cameras to record the memory. Unusual.

Anyway, exciting times, Playwright and I are joining the boys and girls for a break in the hills of Derbyshire on one weeks time. When i spent more time with the group we did lists, you know, Top 5 Cheese's (mmm)/Girl Bands (grrr)/Famous people you have seen (and touched) (ooh) etc.

In anticipation of my holiday I will be remembering my favourite Top 5's for the next seven days. Today it is...

Top 5 TV Animals
1) The Littlest Hobo (He would have stayed with me)
2) Diefenbaker (from Due South)
3) Skippy
4) Kermit The Frog (dont argue)
5) Big Bird

Are You Pushing It Out?

Did you ever make a compilation tape for a girl back when you were at school, record all the supposedly meaningful songs in your life on there and post it anonymously hoping that the recipient would understand what it all meant?

No?

Me neither.

Anyway, I cant believe what happened on Big Brother. Trust me to develop a soft spot for a racist, it is like what happened with Danielle Lloyd and that one from Girls Aloud.
Although with Danielle Lloyd it was just lust and with Girls Aloud it was by default.

You Can Call Me Al

The Rugby Correspondant called friday night, his boys from Cardiff had come up for the weekend and they were about in in the city tasting its delights. I met up with them on the docks and they were well into their eveing. Could have something to do with the fact that I fell asleep after i got back from work and only met them at 21:30. What? It had been a long week.

Anyway, these guys were big guys. I am not short or skinny but these guys were big guys.
I showed them all the prime sights in Liverpool. We hung out in Modo and Alma De Cuba before heading off to my favourite, 3345.

They were stuck for things to do on the saturday and the two things that came to mind were paintballing and clay pigeon shooting. It is worring that the only suggestions for man activities were gun related but it gave me a chance to show off some of my skill. Such was my accuracy on saturdays paintballing trip one of the lads said to me "If you'll be my bodyguard I can be your long lost pal". This guy intrigued me. In a group of laddish lads surrounded by all that testosterone he came across as a male Mae Rose Cottage. I liked him.

However, now he keeps calling me Betty. There have been some late nights this weekend.

And all the people of the lulled and dumbfound town are sleeping now.
You can hear the dew falling, and the hushed town breathing.
Only your eyes are unclosed, to see the black and folded town fast, and slow, asleep.

Marriage Is Like Driving Down A Pretty Road

Or at least that is what I am told. It was one of the boys wedding this weekend (one of the boys from Amsterdam) so off to Aintree racecourse we went with Ikea vouchers in hand. I had been looking forward to the wedding for a while and to my surprise I bumped into the Liverpool Night Life Columnist and the Liverpool Fashion Columnist. I had not seen them since they tried to persuade me to go back to the Blue Angel on my birthday for some blue vodka slush which is the establishment's trademark drink. That stuff is potent.

The wedding was great and everything went well. Bride looked beautiful, food was tasty and I danced like Carlton Banks which is expected and on occasions is demanded of me. The dancing was broken up with revelations about the stag do from the rest of the Amsterdam 10. The favourite story among the group was how an inflatable, but deflated, sheep found its way into my satchel as I approached security in Schipol Airport.

I laugh about it now.

Dreams of Amsterdam

Shiverpool

I am going to increase my knowledge of spook, ghouls and ghosts so that i can find an answer to what is going on in my flat. Is it haunted? Who is haunting it? Are there real life ghostbusters?

Step one, I am going on a ghost tour of Liverpool.
Step two, do some research into ghost hunting etc
Step three, do a Ouija board

Step three I am not looking forward to. I need volunteers

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

Resolve

I am neglecting my blog a little bit as I am in Cardiff enjoying company of old friends. Old friends who i will be taking to the electric brae in July. Anyway, I have news.

I think my flat is haunted. Not in a scary way but haunted non the less. I keep finding cutlery bent out of shape and plates moving around the flat at night. I havenet seen any moving plates. But there were not where i left them. The bulding is 150 years old so it has history. Perhaps a spoon bender lived there once. Maybe a previous carnation of Uri Geller. Who knows?

I looked in the mirror this moringing and realised why i am always behind the camera. I need sleep. I find myself chasing sunsets again. The stress is chasing me towards them.



A little bit of resolve is what I need now
Pin me down, show me how

Love Is In The Air

My home girl (PJ) and her fella (Duncan) have made a very special announcement. They are getting married!!! I am very happy for them. Apparently there is to be an engagement party on the day of my house party so that killed off my plans in an instant. I have known Vera since I was 11 but I have not met Duncan yet. I imagine I should get to know him soon. I have heard nice things about him. We will have to take him to Amsterdam for his stag do. Then we will have a little talk



One of the possible locations for the party is Liverpool's newest ode to communist architecture. The Malmaison Hotel.

If You Want To Drown Her..

There is only once place in the world where you can go shopping for a length of chain and be told a a total stranger that if it is for wrapping around my wife that it needs to be a little more heavy duty. That place is the B and Q in preston. I was looking to secure a garden bench in my folks house. He thought I was looking to serve 15- 20 for murder. Nice guy but obviously a nutter.

After this incident I chased the sun to Southport beach. It helps me relax. It looked like this

Before you ask... I wasn't dogging. I dont even know what that means.
If you suggest that was then I will tie you up in chains and leave you for the seagulls.

PS The seagulls in merseyside are very scary, the make noises like monkeys.

Its Not Very Pretty I Tell Thee

I went out last night for a few drinks while me and the boys watched the most dull game of football ever. On my travels I got very mixed responses to my new t-shirt which reads "I Poke Badgers With Spoons". It had the effect of scaring a lot of people away. I dont like scaring people away but I am doing it more and more often.
That is not my intent and the consequences I may live to regret. Anyway, that was last night and I just got home to this. The picture was sent to me via www.facebook.com



It would not bother me but my place will look like this until the weekend. I am so lazy.

PS for those of you who have never met me look carefully and you can see my left foot. Exciting isn't it

I Am Not A Violent Man... But

A few of us went out this weekend to celebrate me hitting the age of 26. I like RnB so we headed to the Camel Club on Wood Street and we were having a good time. HP brought a lady friend who was very pleasant and friendly. I duly took on the role of wing man. Not sure what being a wing man means but I have always wanted to be one. Better that than being a fluffer.

I was in confident mood as I was wearing a fresh bottle of Sex Panther and we men talked about techniques to pick up women. Chester Phil told us that the last time he was in Liverpool he found that putting a women in a headlock and telling her she had pulled did the trick. This was in the Blue Angel which speaks for itself.

Soon after this conversation I headed to the bar with FACT and saw a very drunk/stoned man put his hands on the neck of one of the women in the group. I am a reasonable man but that seemed to set off some kind of chemical in my body that made me somewhat angry and irrational. After explaining to the man in very clear terms that he would leave the club unable to have children if he did it again the response he came up with was to ask which one of the women he could touch. Not the right question to ask someone in the mood I was in.

I was close to hitting him. Chester Phil wanted to put him in a head lock. FACT wanted to break his legs. HP nearly killed him with the look he gave him.

I don't like this part of my character that I have unleashed. Violent, aggressive and without conscience. Unchecked it may cause me some trouble;
paranoia, paranoia, everybody's coming to get me,
just say you never met me,
i'm going underground with the moles,
i'm not sick but i'm not well
and i'm so hot cause i'm in hell



This is my peaceful place.

Glamorous

The Traveller was in town looking for houses to buy in Kensington and Tuebrook as an investment. It has been a while since we had been out so I acted as a tour guide for the city and as I am already an 08 ambassador it was a role I felt very comfortable with.

We had not met since we crashed a party on the HMS Belfast on the Thames and as the only ships in dock in Liverpool were cargo ships we decided to stayed on land. I thought T would feel at home in Newz which is so funky if you are into porn set styled, Hollyoaks star filled, city centre bars. Over drinks T tried to persuade me so move down to London and as T is well connected could give a head start looking for a move up. Given that FACT is already down there it is one to think about.

Anyway, a good night and in ended with something I did not see coming. I never saw T as that kind of person. But T knows about poetry so at the end of the night we free styled our favourites back and forth. Very unexpected.

I saw T off this morning. T fears the car a mate lent may not make it all the way back as it was leaking more oil than the Exxon Valdez. Looking at the pool of oil left on the road he may be right.

Cloths of Heaven

It was Grand National weekend and people were out and about in their finest dresses and suits yesterday looking for that big win. I picked the very talented Philson Run who came in fourth at 66/1. I tell you that each way bet was a sound investment. I ran out to the local music shop and bought myself a guitar with my winnings. I have dreamed of owning one for years and to learn to play Asturias like Andres Sergova. I am going to keep it quiet until I have learnt my trade as some people will probably make fun of my dreams

I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Northern Hospitality

It has been one busy easter. In the middle of trips to one end of the country to another end of another I found time to put in quality time with the Hyndburn Photographer. Not many people understand HP like I do. We bond. We connect. If all else fails I tease him about his younger sister Betty. I have always had a soft spot for her, but in that nice friend of an older brother way, even though she has the longest toes in the world. My god you should see them. It is like Bilbo Baggins down there. She can work things like "My Left Foot" with those bad boys. She could play a guitar with them. Or prepare a salad.

Anway we bumped into Betty Long Toes and she was looking delicious as always. I invited BLT up to my place for dinner at the end of the month as it is my birthday. It should be a good night. I still have the largest stock of Absolut Vodka this side of Finland for the boys and girls to dispose of. I will be slipping it into everyone's drinks.

Later that day I went for something to eat with HP and he was telling me how he is looking forward to his southern mates team playing Burnley next season if they get promoted.
I asked "are you going to show him some nothern hospitality?"
He replied "Of course, we will go for a few beers, see the game, then me and the lads will take him out back and kick t' shit out of him"
I do miss HP.

Reflections

I learnt something today. When you have a flat with crisp white walls and a jar of pesto with the lid not fastened as secure as you would hope. Dont give the jar a good shake. It gets messy.

Today I have learnt that life isn't all biscuits and sandwiches.

Twisting My Melon

I was watching VH1 and Pet Shop Boys "Heart"was playing, the one with the vampire and the bride. The wierd thing was I am pretty sure that the vampire is played by none other than Burnley's own Sir Ian Mckellen. Gandolf in a Pet Shop Boys video! That would normally be enough to twist my melon but there is more.

Manchester was a lot of fun. I especially enjoyed meeting the Hyndburn Correspondant's(HC) sister after many long years. After a night of surprises for friends who have not seen me for a while (with the drinking and smoking) we were having a good time and HC got us in to the Press Club which is supposed to be an exclusive late night venue where the Corrie stars hand out. Not that I would know any of them. between you and me I was hoping to spot Lucy Meacock. For so long i have hidden my affection for her. Perhaps tonight would be the night. That would have make me very happy.

Anyway, dont be dissapointed if you cant get in to the Press Club as it is little more than a working mens club with a sticky floor. Anyway, I was in the gents and this guy stood next to me. Typical manc guy with the manc accent giving all the "all right" "im buzzin" and the like. Scruffy fellow and his cloth was poor i thought. Anyway, it turns out it was Bez from the Happy Mondays.

That was the highlight of my night. He does dance like a monkey on acid though. This was a really good night out. In fact it was such a good night out if you were not then then you are a loser (as HC put it). I agree with him

60% Of The Time It Works Every Time

Off to manchester tonight. I have invested in a new grey jumper after I burst out of the last one like the hulk. It is merino wool and very soft to touch. They did a study and appently 60% of women find men who wear grey jumpers irresistable. It is going to be a night where I will have to enfore the rules strictly. It is the Hyndburn Correspondants birthday and I putting myself up in a nice hotel with FACT (Financial Affairs Correspondant Tim) who I shall now refer to as Tim. This causes a problem as how do I refer to my juggling mentor (and writer of A Free Man in Preston). I shall call him Bob. I miss Bob.

Anyway, myself and Tim are in the same room as neither of us could get in anywhere cheap and at made financial sense (as you would expect when Tim is involved). The idea is weirding me out. What if he wants to snuggle?

Amsterdam Nights 3

I wake up in a sweat. My heart is racing. I look around trying to figure out if I am still dreaming. But there is no sign of Danielle Lloyd and one of the german women in bikinis wrestling in an inflatable swimming pool filled with warm baby oil. Ronnie corbett is not refereeing in a black and white striped shirt. It was all a dream.

Reality is far different. The german chicks are long gone. The new leader of the passepartout (the stag) is ordering me out of bed and into the shower
"No time for breakfast!"
"Get packed in the next five minutes!"
"Find the room keys!"
I guess the holiday is over. But it was worth it.

I learnt how to bimble. And I love it

Amsterdam Nights 2

My short stint as mother duck is over. In a coup d'etat the group decided that my methods of giving directions was oppressive and a new regieme has taken over. It didn't bother me but one of the passepartout compared me to a modern day Idi Amin (without the cannibalism). I felt this was a little harsh.
Is is morning two, breakfast is two fried egss and toast. That was breakfast yesterday morning. It will be breakfast tomorrow.

My recently purchased towel is the best purchase of the trip so far as it became apparent soon after arrival that the hotel did not provide them. However, the trip to the Heineken Brewery is a close second. I tried my first Heineken. It was crisp smooth and of premium quality. None of that mattered as it tasted really really bad and i gave my remaining tokens for the free drinks to the group. I wish i had taken a picture of the table we were on. The number of drinks out numbered the people around it by 3 to 1. I wanted to think that was because the drinks were free. But this was one constant throughout this second day.

My head hurts and I have found an inflatable sheep in my satchel.
I dont know where it came from.

Amsterdam Nights 1

I blog from my hotel reception today. It is my first morning in amsterdam.

You would think that a hotel with free internet access would be up to my normal standards but last night I slept on a bunk in a room with five other bunks. There are ten of us in this room. It is a stag do. The man on top of me snores like a kitten purrs. It is very soothing.

I have become immune/de-sensitised to what I see here. It is weird that I have become so accepting of what I see. Highlight of last night was walking one of the passepartout home after he indulged a bit too much. We have adopted an all for one and one for all rule. This was despite my objections. So when he fell asleep standing on his feet with his eyes open we all walked him home.

We bumped into a lovely hot german couple who have struggled with their reservation. The two hot girls told the hostel/hotel they would arrive at 1. They (the hot girls) turned up at 7 and were told their room has been given to someone else. A little harsh I thought (on the hot girls).

I am trying to pursuade the group to let them stay in our room as it is the right thing to do.

Forever the humanitarian.

The Bus

I rode the bus today! I enjoyed it. A lot. I handed my car in to be serviced and I had no alternative. I hold nothing against buses but I have not used one for a while. It was nice to sit with random people. It had a wierd vibe. I like stangers. We made small talk. I found out the orign of the phrase "woolly back" and aparently I am one.

When I got off I felt great. I look forward to my next trip. This week I am going to ride a plane.

On a slightly different note I have done something I regret. I went to visit my folks in my home town and the following morning made a trip to the local supermarket looking for breakfast stuff. I had not shaved, was wearing an old Century 105 t-shirt some baggy jogging pants and an old jacket. I didnt really care as it was a quick in and out thing. But I bumped into someone. I looked at and this person and thought "wow, that guy looks like John (old schoool friend), only older and bald" It was John! (John was a scientist and he was hooked on LSD, interested in mind control and why the monkey held the key). I looked like a bum. He thinks I am a bum. I need to change my friends reunited message or the rest of my old scocial circle is going to think i am a bum.

I can relate to someone I know (they will kill me if i say who) who had a car accident on the one day she work underwear with a hole in it. She was gutted when the doctors saw it.

Gay Paris

I have given up with the headline thing. It is too much hard work. I just got back from Paris which was lovely and provided me with pleanty of oppotunity to work on my cheese puns like switching the word better for fetta. Passepartout quickly told me that my puns were getting a bit grating and that I should stop. So I did. Up until now. Sorry.

Jenny Was A Friend Of Mine

I met a lady after I went to see James Morrisson in Manchester. He was very good and I met "Jenny" (actually her real name but I wanted to use the Killer's lyric so threw my principle of not naming people out the window) in the gay village and she did not like dolphins! What the hell? If it wasnt for the fact that she fascinated me the conversation would not have lasted much longer. She thought that they were the care in the community equivalent of the sea world. Talking to her to very enjoyable, she was intoxicating. I must catch up with her in the future.

Anyway, I just remembered that I had promised to meet up with an old school friend last summer and never came through. It wasnt like one of those "yeah yeah will catch up soon" jobbies it was a proper agreement. I cant arrange somethin now six months down the road. That is far too cheeky. I also have a confession. I have a three year old email from another friend which I kept with the intention of writing back.

Once Upon A Time In Cardiff

I was worried as I travelled down to Cardiff and not just because I staged what turned into the most dangerous overtaking manoeuver in history. It was beacuse I was meeting the four (previously three) minxs and the football league reporter and I thought they would poke fun at my freaky hairy fingers as they did on the last trip. Worse still they may spot that I have stumpy fingers to match. However hobbit boy escaped this attention and we concentrated on having a good time. I was outdone when it came to 'i have never' but then who has every gone joy riding in a milk float! I heard that this feat was repeated over the weekend.

Had we been playing today I could have said that "I have never shoplifted". It turns out that the magazines in waterstones (the glossy ones) should be paid for (£2.50). I must have looked like the most cocky theif this side of fagans den. I only realised when I got home. I dont know what to do. Should I return the read magazine, pay for it or keep quiet?

The trip went well, there was dancing, including some dancing with drunk men who smelt of cheese and hung aroung looking like a middle aged west side story gang. They were funny. I have video footage.

I also vaguely remember doing my very well oiled robot and MC Hammer dances. Perhaps it is for the best that the minxs and my paths may never cross again. The minxs had a warmth about them, could draw a smile from any person and all had a glint in their eyes.

Editors comments - under no circumstances should this post been interprited as condoning theft or joyriding. Criminality in any form, although humourous in certain circumstances, is not big and is not clever

Valentines Day Blues

My word I did not think study would be so intensive that I would be sat at my desk on valentines day studying about... well you really dont need to know. Still I have some chocolates for comfort. They are shaped like hearts and taste like an autumn sunset (and milk chocolate). There is also the light at the end of the tunnel that I am off to Cardiff this weekend to meet up with the three minxs' and the football league reporter.

I am going to introduce the group to "I have never" - the hilarious drinking game. They say the devils water aint so sweet but the City of Cardiff is where that isnt quite true. I will try to be good.

I know i have neglected this part of my life, as i have neglected many other things recently, but bear with me. I have been poorly sick. I think it is man flu but i am not sure. My symptoms are as follows;
the sniffles
body aches
feel sorry for myself
dependancy on night nurse
desire to be waited on day and night

I have also been feeling really home sick lately (unusual) and with this I have lost my va va voom. I feel like something is missing but I dont know what. It is wierd. I am not sure if it is desire for adventure of a feeling that I have not achieved. I cant remember the last good deed I did (worrying). I dont know if I need purpose, inspiration(like what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity), guidance or something to drive me. I have listened to 'Hurt' by Johnny Cash a lot(depressing). Feel like I am running on empty at the moment and it is probably just the man flu getting me down.

If my life was a Tom Cruise film I would be at the point where I am having a crisis of confidence but i will emerge from this stronger, more successful and supported by more uplifting music. Like when Goose died in Top Gun and he went on to save that big boat with the headmaster from Back To the Future on it.

Too descriptive?
Sorry.
I will tone it down.

Aussie Rules

It is not often that it happens but it did last night. I bumped into someone who lives in my building. She was as surprised as me. She has been in the building for a month and had not seen another soul.

The lady was Sheila from Melbourne. We got chatting and she told me she worked for Typhoo to which responded "oooooh". From the look on her face she had heard that one before.
We got on and we popped into the White Bar on Old Hall Street which is in effect my local. She had just got back from the USA where she had been tornado hunting like in the film but apparently without the melodrama (and death). She struck me as a bit of a freespirted person, based on the electric blue highlights in her hair, but she was fun. The only thing is she does not understand the rules which makes me feel a little awkward.
That and the fact that she keeps calling me Mike. I am not sure why, i did correct her several times and believe me that is not close to me real name.

Liverpool Man' Stalker Hell

I think the couple who lived across the courtyard have moved out. You know them, young ladies who used to hoover up in their underwear. Anyway, the lights have been off for a week and I sat at my window for an hour and I could not see any movement.

I am not sure if have explained myself. The flats in the building all have bedrooms on a mezzanine floor so when I sit on my sofa and look at the TV the angle means I can see them in their bedroom. It is their fault for not pulling the blinds down. I am the victim here.

I should not have to see them prancing aroung when I am eating my TV dinner.

Anyway, I am glad they have gone, last week their alarm was going off for ages and I could not sleep.