Monday Morning Blues......

(2026 Edit - This post is from the archive;  it was first published on 30 September 2013 at 2217.  Things, views and events may have changed since then. )

Sunday afternoon I was busy writing letters and catching up with correspondence; that time just ran away from me and before I knew it the midnight hour had sprung upon me like a nasty panther hiding in the darkness. I wasn't best pleased, especially as I'd not even done half the amount of letters/emails I'd hoped to have completed by the evening. Some of those emails were regarding possible future interviews, some of which may very well appear here before your very eyes, whilst some of those are for other publications; more details in the fullness of time. It'll be a lot of work, but if it all comes together it will also be fun and hopefully bring in a couple of quid, not enough to make me rich but enough to keep the wolf from the door.

My late retirement has put me at odds with myself today as I had to get up at the un-Jason-like hour of 6am in order to get to work by 8am. I'm not so keen on the start time, but I'm pleased with the finish time of 5pm, plus I've got two more days off as I'm working the complete weekend again this coming weekend. I've not got any plans for the days off, just an awful lot of writing and that sort of thing. Although a few little visits to the local discount supermarket might be in order. You see, they've introduced all their Christmas goodies and as it's a European store a lot of the naughty foods come from lands other than my own - including four different varieties of Stollen! Yummy. Also chocolate-covered marzipan logs and those funny little chocolate things with booze in them! Bang goes my diet, but hey, I can't be good all the time.....

What sort of food items do you most look forward to over the holiday period? Perhaps it's the turkey dinner at Christmas or Thanksgiving, or maybe you are an eggnog fan, maybe you are the chief muncher of Easter eggs? What seasonal food gets your mouth watering?

© 2013 Copyright to Jason Shaw

(dead link removed)

No sleep till the weekend.....

(2026 Edit - This post is from the archive;  it was first published on 28th September 2013 at 2000.  Things, views and events may have changed since then.)

I've got the weekend off; it seems so rare these days with the new rota at work, but yes, the weekend off! After a week of late shifts, which I have to confess has really plum tuckered me out! I'm bushwhacked, knackered and other such expressions to indicate my body is running on empty and my mind even less!

I just don't seem to be able to do anything when I'm on lates, zilch in the morning and not enough time after work has finished at 9, because the schedule of the trains means I'm lucky to enter my lounge in time for the evening news at ten. I think as I've got older I'm getting more and more keen on a routine, something easy to cope with, something that allows planning and regularity - sadly this rota doesn't much allow for anything like that.

I've already crammed a week's worth of domestic chores into a Saturday morning, washing, shopping, bathing, hoovering and returning a stack of post for people that don't live at my apartment any more. So much for a restful weekend!

I had a giggle at work, you know a while back I told you about an award I'd received at work, well the photos from that have been published, not only are they on the TV screens in the reception of the head office, but also in the staff canteen. Worse than that, some silly so-and-so printed them off and affixed them to the door of the call centre, so every time someone enters they see my smiling football-sized face gormlessly grinning at them like a gurning dopey in purple. Oh, the embarrassment of it all.

© 2013 Copyright to Jason Shaw

Momento

(2026 Edit - This post is from the archive; it was first published on 22 September 2013 at 2305. Things, views and facts may have changed since then.)

Memento……

Do you find it just a little bit odd how one little thing, a single item, a little memento of some trip, event or time, can bring back a flood of memories the equivalent of a recollection waterfall, or maybe that’s just me?

The other week I’d gone back to my old house to collect the last box of my belongings that hadn’t quite made the move and were simply gathering dust in the shed. In all honesty, I couldn’t recall exactly what was in the box, just some odds and ends, bits that hadn’t made it into any of the other boxes I’d carefully packed for the move. Therefore, I knew it was nothing marked – books, glasses, kitchen, clothes, bedding, computer stuff, or paperwork, and despite wracking my brains on the hour-and-a-half-long journey from here to there, I couldn’t for the life of me recall just what I’d stored away in the box.

Upon arrival and inspection, I found what perhaps many would classify as a load of old junk, and if not junk, then ‘stuff’ not worth a journey of one and a half hours and a £20 train ticket!. A couple of books, a spindle of 100 blank recordable DVDs, a mug that came free with an Easter egg, another mug that was a promotional gift from some coffee company, some used envelopes, a small ten-inch-high ornamental lighthouse designed for the garden, an oven glove, a weekend guest pass for a local health club – five years out of date, a voucher for a free bottle of whiskey – six years out of date, a broken iPod dock speaker, a synthetic flower lay and a key ring. Not the haul of the century, I’m sure you’ll agree. I’m sure you will also concur that the value of said booty could not be more than a couple of quid at the most. Yet, to me, two of the items were almost priceless, holding that extra special, significant sentimental value that mementos always seem to possess. I wonder if I asked if you’d select those two cherished items from the list, perhaps not if I’d not elected to place a couple of photos just a little lower in this post!

The flower lei was purchased with real American dollars in a very touristy gift emporium along Kalakaua Avenue in Honolulu, just a hop, skip, and a jump away from the world-famous Waikiki Beach.  Now, if memory serves me correctly, I think it was an ABC gift store where I also purchased a genuine full ‘eye-watering’ colourful Hawaiian shirt that was actually made in the islands, which I have to say took some finding, as most seemed to be made in China, Taiwan, or some other such place. I also bought a coral necklace, a bone-crafted fish hook necklace that looked like the letter ‘J’, and some surfer-type bracelets – all of which have been lost or worn out over the course of time. 

Having the material flower lay, cheap and perhaps tacky as it may be, in my hands again caused a flood of memories to cascade into my mind.  Once again I was transported back to the islands and that business trip that seemed so long, yet was really only a week or so. I was working for a travel company at the time, and when I say business trip, I really mean it was a travel organiser's educational trip, which basically means we got to travel to lots of different places, look and stay in some lovely hotels, sample great food, service, hospitality, see tourist things, all for free. The reason for the trip was so we could decide what to put in our brochures and how to sell the destination or hotel. I know, right — flying halfway round the world, staying in some of the best hotels, eating great food, and seeing the sights not only for free, but also getting paid for doing so. Yep, it was a great job, the perks were amazing, at least some of the time, sure the work back at the office was hard, but the trips away and the travel concessions more than made up for such hardships.

I recall that trip was a multi-destination long trip: first we flew to Toronto, a couple of nights there, up to Niagara Falls, a night there, then off to Vancouver, for another couple of nights. After our fill of Canadian hospitality (and beer), we jetted down to Los Angeles, just for a plane change, and then over to Honolulu. I think we stayed three nights, although I could be wrong and maybe it was four. I remember being a little disappointed by the famous Waikiki Beach.

It wasn’t the wide white sandy beach I’d imagined, but rather a narrow, crowded and somewhat dirty strip of thick sand. The area was very commercialised and touristy, even then, and we’re going back some thirteen or fourteen years, and heaven knows what it’s like now! No trip to Oahu would be complete without a trip to Pearl Harbour, which was a very sobering and humbling experience, and the quietness of the overwater memorial looking down to the USS Arizona has stayed with me to this day. 

In hindsight, that was perhaps the single most important part of the whole escapade; it was certainly the most thought-provoking and poignant. For some reason at the time, I remember being rather surprised that the majority of the other tourists there were from Japan; it struck me as odd then, not so much so now.

Oahu was big, busy, commercial and expensive, whereas our next destination was the complete opposite: green, lush, tranquil, slow, easy and for me, so much better. It is true to say I loved Maui; I loved pretty much everything about it and sorely wished our three/four nights there could be extended to say a dozen or so. There was a completely different atmosphere on the island, and the pace of life a little gentler, with the local people even friendlier – including a hotel restaurant waiter whose room service etiquette ensured I was completely and utterly satisfied!

Maui also gave us the opportunity to relax, well, more so than we had already; you’ll never know just how tiring it actually is looking at hotels until you have to do it! We had a full day to just chillax on the beach. The next day, other than two simple hotel visits, we enjoyed a whale/dolphin watching trip, although the only dolphins we glimpsed were as we were heading back to harbour. Oh well, them’s the breaks, and to be completely honest, it was the stunning scenery that took my breath away.

Before that little sea trip, the girls I was with wanted a little snack, and there happened to be a little McDonald’s just a way from the harbour (I know it sounds odd having a McDonald’s, but sometimes you can just have too much of fine hotel food!) I wanted a veggie burger, but they don’t do that sort of thing; however, they did give me a burger bun with all the salad stuff for free. I just had to pay for my fries, which was rather amusing and caused a bit of a titter among the girls.

Our trip came to an end, and we bade a rather sad farewell to the beautiful isle of Maui and started what an epic journey home was. You see, when you are on one of these sorts of trips, you are a guest of the airline, and that sometimes means you have to settle for less direct flights, a small price to pay for free travel, of course, but it doesn’t always feel like that. From Maui we flew to Honolulu, then it was Honolulu to Los Angeles; from LA it was up to Vancouver and on to Toronto before an overnight flight to London and a coach back down home. God, I wished I’d been able to collect air miles on that trip alone; it was so long and the flights back more exhausting than the whole trip itself, even if the last leg was in business class!

The other memento, well, that was a key ring; it came with a collector’s VHS edition of the movie Titanic that came complete with a real section of film and photos from the set that I purchased in Singapore, on another completely different trip. Again, this was a free adventure, although not anything really to do with work itself. Although, it is true to say that work did give me the opportunity in a roundabout way to embark on a wonderful journey around the world. You see, it was whilst at work that one of the airlines came around on a sales call, which they did on a regular basis, at least back then, to their best clients. During this sales call, the rep told us of a competition they were running to promote their new round-the-world airfares. Of course, I entered, not thinking anything more of it; you know, I never win those sorts of things. The competition was to design an itinerary using the round-the-world fare, and out of quickness I picked an easy and relatively short route. Three months down the line, I got a letter confirming that I had been selected as the competition winner and the prize – two tickets on the itinerary I had designed along with £1000 to spend on ground arrangements from their programme!

A few months after that, and lots of fun planning where to go, I and my most recent ex at the time and I departed on a round-the-world trip in just over three weeks that saw us visit Los Angeles, Auckland, Sydney, Cairns and Singapore before coming back to home to dear old Blighty! This little, old, battered and worn thin key ring reminds me of that trip, the fun in Disneyland, the losing a day just like that (I snapped my fingers then, by the way) crossing the International Date Line enroute from LA to Auckland, a surprise birthday lunch for the said ex on board a specially hired yacht just out in Auckland harbour, a trip to the zoo, the red light area of Sydney, blue and red buses, walking along four mile beaches, midnight paddles in the sea, taking no notice of salt water crocodiles that could have easily munch me up for supper without so much as a please or thank you. Seeing a real-life koala, kangaroo, wombat, and a duck-billed platypus, and being so enthusiastically wrapped up in an erotically charged moment, pulling the headboard completely off the wall! 

Oh, the memories are jumping out of my mind like sparks from a fire threatening to form an inferno of recollections should I let it, yet all these images of the past flashing before my eyes were conjured up from re-finding a little old battered and worn-out key ring.  How amazing is that?

Mementos - a pocket full of memories! 

What mementos mean the most to you?

© 2013 Copyright to Jason Shaw

A little isolation.

(2026 Edit: this post is from the archive; it was first published on 31st March 2013 at 20:00. Things, views and events may have changed since then!)

Photo by Galen Crout on Unsplash

Isolation,  what a wonderful feeling. No, really, I mean it, can you imagine exactly what total and complete isolation would really be like to experience?  Quite a few years ago, one of my more affluent friends had one of those odd dome-like isolation tanks installed into their second bathroom.  I remember at the time such plastic and fibreglass creations were all the rage with the ‘well-to-do’ and ’more money than sense’ set, of which my friend was perhaps a 'weekend' member of.  This odd erection, with its shape an amalgam of dome and pyramid was a dusky black colour with some brightly coloured block writing on it, the actual words escape me now but I’m relatively sure it would have been condescending operating instructions warning that it was designed to be used by just one person at a time,  as if the name ‘Isolation Tank’ was a little misleading. Inside it was dark black, with a little raised bum platform and what could be either a reservoir to contain warm water or something more pleasant, like a duvet or a cushion. I entered willingly and expectantly, plonked myself on the little seat, and then the darkness descended all around me as the door was closed. The first thing I noticed, other than the off-putting smell of condensation on plastic, was that even though I was in an isolation tank, I wasn’t exactly isolated.  A little light pollution crept around the door frame whilst the sounds of the outside world remained constant, although somewhat dimmed.  I was alone, but not alone; isolated yet also oddly still attached to the world around me, and to my mind this wasn’t a tank; it was more of a semi-comfortable living coffin!  After, what I’d like to say was a few hours but in reality was probably no more than ten minutes, I exited the tank and thanked my friend for the loan of his isolation assimilation and practically ran from the house to the nearest bar. Whilst I saw that friend many times over the forthcoming months, I never went back in his tank!

The only reason this memory came back to my mind today was that at just gone eight this morning I enjoyed a long soak in the bath, during which I let my head sink back until my ears were under the bubbly, soapy warm water.  I don’t normally do this, you see; before moving into this new apartment I’d always been a shower man, enjoying the cascading water pounding my head and invigorating the skin. Baths previously had been rare events, most often shared with either somebody else or perhaps just as rewarding, although undeniably less communicative, a bottle of wine.  Either way, I always had something else to do, other than lay in the tub getting all wrinkly as the water turned from scalding hot to freezing cold.  

Yet this morning, with plenty of time to loiter and relax,  I pretended I was a beached whale and plonked myself in the tub. Now, for some of my American friends, who may not know this, but in England, as most of Europe in fact, baths are a lot deeper over here in general,  the sides a lot higher, hence the water capacity a fair bit more than the standard shallow baths that seem to be favoured on your side of the Atlantic. Therefore, it was quite easy for me to slide down in the tub to allow the water to cover over my ears, leaving just my eyes and nose about the waterline. With my eyes closed tight, I listened to a faint gurgling hum of the plumbing, the odd splosh of a dripping tap and an oddly loud terr-dumpth terr-dumpth terr-dumpth terr-dumpth terr-dumpth. Which was at first rather confusing, and I confess I had to pop my head up out of the water like an ever-watchful meerkat or perhaps more accurately, a wallowing rhino, to find out what the sound was. Of course, once my head was out of the water and my ears clear of bubbles, the sound had stopped, yet it recommenced as soon as my noggin was back below the surface. Now, I’m sure you’ve already worked out, long before I did. It was only after I'd done the whole meerkat thing and back under the water that I realised that the terr-dumpth, terr-dumpth, terr-dumpth was in actual fact the beat of my heart!

So after feeling silly for a few moments, I actually felt a little detached from reality, and whilst I could still hear the odd murmur of the outside world going on about me, I did experience a certain sense of semi-isolation, and I have to say it felt absolutely great. Neurons sparked, synapses fired, whole cortices lit up brighter than the seafront illuminations on a winter night; my entire mind was alive and buzzing with thoughts, ideas, memories and ponderings. You know it was as if some unseen great giant called Emmet had switched a big knob on the back of my head from off to on and sparked the whole thing off. 

As soon as I was out of the bath, the wild rancorous riot of thought going on inside my head ceased and abated with such alarming rapidity I had to double-check my brain wasn’t gurgling down the drain with the outflowing water.  Which leads me to the incredible conclusion that if I ever need to think in future, I’ll need to have a soak in the bath, or at the very least a bucket of water to dunk my head in. Which sounds fine, although could be a little problematic, not to mention embarrassing at work! 

Weekend cycle

(2026 edit - this post is from the archive and was first published on 20 November 2012 at 0925. Things, views and events may have changed since then.)

The weekend was rather slow and quiet. I rode to Worthing Saturday morning, which was rather enjoyable. The route I took is just under ten miles from door to pier, and that certainly blew the cobwebs away. It was great fun; however, the return trip was a little more strenuous, and my legs and arse certainly knew about it when I eventually got off the bike at home!

 

I couldn’t really do much on Sunday; the leg with metal in it was a bit stiff, not surprising really, as the weather on Saturday was a bit blustery and cold and the joints don’t half ache in wintertime!  In fact, with the clear, wonderful warm winter sunshine on Sunday, I wished I’d planned a ride out for that day rather than the previous one, but there you go, that’s life.

I watch the television news with a sense of dread; the situation in Gaza/Israel is incredibly worrying, the disproportionate levels of force are alarming, and I’m deeply concerned for my friend Pascal, an aid worker, who is working in Gaza.  I can see a land invasion happening, which will be devastating because it can only lead to much more bloodshed and a rapid escalation of already tense international relations in the area. The ones who are really suffering are the children; in Israel they have bomb shelters, in Gaza, one of the most crowded places on earth, they have no such luxury. I know that already a UK Royal Navy vessel received ‘readiness and preparedness’ orders on Monday mid-morning, which is a concern in itself.  One can only hope for a brokered ceasefire and more efforts put into finding a long-term solution.

I’ve got to pop into hospital on Wednesday for a meeting with one of the counsellors regarding my ongoing medical tests and explorations, which is a good thing; it is another step forward. I know things have to be done properly and there is a procedure to follow, but sometimes I just get the desire that I wish it would be blooming well, hurry up.  Obviously, I’ll give you more details soon, and thank you for the good wishes; very kind of you, remember it is nothing to worry about; I’m not ill.  Although I do need to lose a little bit of poundage, watch and bring down my cholesterol levels slightly, that’s fairly common for a guy my age, especially one with a bit of a passion for cheesecake.

15 Oct 2010  (I want some now!!)

Oh, I found a way to take my photos off of the Daily Mugshot site, which seems to have been abandoned; that's been good, as I'd thought I'd lost that visual document of my changing appearance and life since 2009.  I've enjoyed looking back over some of them; others have made me inwardly cringe a little, and a few others will never see the light of day again!   However, I did find this one, which I purchased whilst living in America, and I know it looks odd, yet it defies its appearance and tastes rather nice!

© 2012 Copyright to Jason Shaw. 

Letter's of the past.

(2026 Edit. This post is from the archive; it was first published on 23 October 2012 at 17:37. Things, facts and views may have changed since then.)

Letters

Image by Margarita Kochneva from Pixabay

You never really know what others think of you until they make it clear in some way, and sometimes when they do, it can come as a complete surprise or even, dare I say, a bit of a shock!

Such an incident happened to me at the end of last week when, out of the blue, a letter arrived from an old, old flame. Before I go on to the contents of that letter, let me tell you the intriguing story of how this physical letter got to me is as remarkable as the contents themselves. For some reason, it was sent to a place I used to work many long years ago, and when I say many, I really do mean many, ten or more at least. Luckily, someone there still recognised my name as they forwarded it to an address I used to live at in Crawley, West Sussex. Luckily, the owner still remained the same as all those years ago, who forwarded it to the Kemp Town flat where I used to reside and from there the lovely Eastern European escorts that occupy the top apartment popped it back in the post with my current abode crammed into one corner.  

Thus, the letter's unusual and utterly remarkable journey from pillar to post had finally come to a wonderfully correct conclusion. Hat’s off to the Royal Mail on this occasion for their endeavours in the delivery of the letter, and deep sentiments of gratitude are expressed to all who had a hand in ensuring its progress continued until, in my hands, it rested.

The contents of the letter, as indeed the letter itself, were a complete surprise and not a particularly happy one. The letter, as I said before, was from an old, old flame from the very dim and distant past. We dated for a relatively short time, perhaps ten or eleven months, maybe a year at the most, during the mid 1990’s. I can’t say how we got together or even why; we certainly came from different places and lived in seemingly different worlds, plus he was a full decade and a half my senior, which only added to the differences between us. Our brief relationship was, I suppose you could say was tempestuous,  fiery would be another word, we were both strong and stubborn personalities, and I dare say we both suffered from the ’I know best’ mantra and philosophy. There were times of great passion, intellectual stimulation and learning, but also times of arguments and anger, which ultimately forced the affair to be a rather dysfunctional one, which led to its inevitable termination.

He loved me, yet always resented and never forgave me for breaking up our ’beautiful’ relationship, at least that’s what his letter informed me. It also told me that he believed we could have ’gone the distance’, which surprised the heck out of me because, from my memory, we were never destined for longevity, and it was he who told me to get out of his car and out of his life when we broke up. 

There were a few other things mentioned in the letter which I have different recollections of altogether; however, I suppose that’s only to be expected, we were two different people and too different people. I would write back to perhaps disagree with his memories of our time together, or rather, offer my side of the story and my views of how it came to a bitter and fractious end. Oh yes, the end was fractious to say the least, when I said earlier he was the one to tell me to get out of his car and out of his life, I meant that literally. We’d been out at an early ‘summer’ party where shorts and shades had been the theme, somewhat surprising really, as it was taking place at the end of January or beginning of February, I forget exactly which after all this time. I, being the typical larger-than-life character full of fun I happily sported rather short black shorts complete with a skull and crossbones design on the front area. In reality, I’ll level with you, these were comic boxer shorts, yet I wore them as over shorts with nothing underneath. I also sported a ripped black ‘Boy’ t-shirt that was about two sizes too small for me, and that was before it had shrunk in the wash!  

I want to say I also had flip flops on, but if memory serves me rightly, I actually sported some Hi-Tec trainers.  It was a private party, and we weren't going anywhere else, which negated my need for cash, plus I had no pockets upon my person anyway. I don’t recall how our argument started or who the instigator was, nor can I remember how it or why it escalated the way it did. No doubt I was partly or even largely to blame, I simply can't recall, but I sure do remember how it ended. We’d gotten halfway back between the location on the south coast of this party and my home in Crawley when he slammed on his brakes, pulled into a lay-by at the side of the road and uttered the infamous last words and the opposite of Billy Ocean, ’get out of my car and out of my life’.  

As I said, I was stubborn back then, so I did, he drove off, and that was the last I ever saw of him. I then simply had no other option other than to walk home during the middle of a January / February night, wearing nothing other than a pair of funny boxer shorts, trainers and a shirt far too small for me.  I can’t say how far the distance was exactly, nor how long the journey took me; all I can say is that by the time I got to my door, the dawn had arrived and people were already on their way to work. I must have had some odd or funny looks from passing commuters. I have no memory, but it wasn't the first time I'd been seen as one of those 'Yesterday's People' coming home the day after a night before!

As I said, I would have written back to him to share my views on the relationship that never was without the benefit of rose-tinted spectacles, yet tucked in the envelope was a small card. The card was a short little note from one of his family members informing me he had recently passed away after a short illness. A surprise indeed, and I’d wished I’d read the note before the letter, a letter which he had written sometime before his death and not sent, rather than the other way around. I also wish he’d have sent the letter before he died as then he’d had gone to his grave with both sides of the story, but that of course isn’t to be, but it just emphasises to me now, how there are always at least two sides to every story, that one person’s truth can seem to be another person’s invention, and I wonder, perhaps we never really know how others see us.

Without.......

(2026 Edit - This post comes from the archive; it was first published on 26th November 2007. Things, views and events may have changed since then.)

Image by Tracey from Pixabay

How come it's dark before 4pm these days? Where do the daylight hours go? I'm enjoying the first day off of my set of four after a rather low, almost depressing shift of four on! Apart from making up silly songs in the middle of the night, gorging ourselves on chip kebabs and two people doing the jobs of 6, it's been rather sad. Dear old David has completed his last night shift, not just for this week or month, but ever. He's departing the dark side and heading onwards and upwards to the day shift; the nights just won't be the same without him. He was the glue that kept sanity together; he was the voice of reason and was my lunch partner. Trips to Legends at 1.30am will just not be the same, but, hey, I wish him well in his new job, am sure he'll do well!

OK, so the world and his wife and four kids have all gone social networking mad! It seems these days you just can't be anyone until you have an online profile on one of the major social interaction sites. I must say, the fear of being left out of this cyber-space world of social interaction has prompted me to get on this thing called Facebook! Oh, so yes, I'm a few years behind the 'in crowd ', but hey, what else is new? I think I've been playing catch-up since the day I was born! Anyway, I digress, there I am on Face Book and it's all rather confusing at first, within my first week or so, I've been 'Poked' 5 times, I've had a 'sticky' pasted on me, I've had to build a fun wall, grow a garden, plot a destination map, been sent 3 beers, been blocked once and been invited to join a stranger in Bangkok! It's all very errm social in an interactive cyber way; one of the nice things about being a new FaceBook inhabitant is that I've got back in contact with a couple of old friends I haven't seen in years and long since lost contact with, which is jolly good! Another good thing about it's crazy and confusing and has too many applications for a silly fool like me to understand, is people send you funny videos from YouTube and the like all the time. (out of date link to an amusing video about the perils of bathing in Domestos has been removed)

Meanwhile over on the other side of Brighton, David was back combing his beehive in preparation for the Amy Wineglass, oops Winehouse gig at the Brighton Centre tonight. As he was getting ready, I asked what else he'd done to be like Ms Winehouse to get in the mood; his reply: "Had 6 e's, done a couple of lines, sunk a bottle of JD, just about to start self-harming and putting on my 'fuck me' pumps and fallen over twice" Oh, exactly like the girl herself! I am in awe!! I wait with bated breath to hear the tales of mayhem. If indeed she turns up this time, if she does, I hope s
he does fall off the stage!

Will it be a white Christmas?

Can you believe it's just four weeks till Christmas? Well, look on the calendar, if you don't trust me! So just four weeks to go before the big day and all that card sending and gift giving. Apparently, according to recent research, over 60% of gifts are unwanted and are returned to shops for something better within the first two weeks of January! It all seems like an over-hyped, over-commercialised waste of good money if you ask me! We have, as a society, lost all sense of reality in the silly season; we've long since forgotten the real meaning of Christmas, and the only kind of Christmas spirit we get into is the kind that comes in bottles with 37.5% proof on the label!!

Jake asked me what I would like as a gift this year; he said something that I couldn't live without! Now, that's a really hard question to answer. I mean, what could I want that I couldn't live without, something that would make my life complete? I don't have a scooby doo! But it's got me thinking, what do you have in your life that you just can't do without?

DB says he can't live without his phone, OK, so he's splashed out on a new iPhone, so it's a bit more than just a way of communicating, but that's not the point, he says speaking from his most valued possession (which sounded as tinny and echoey as and old tin can on a bit of string by the way) His whole life revolves around either calling people or texting them on his phone and he couldn't function without it.

Mo say, sex!!!!

Jake says, caffeine, burgers, condoms and beer, but not necessarily in that order!

David says, the answer is easy, I couldn't live without my MacBook! It's got my whole life on it, all my music, my access to all the Dvia gossip, my shopping and even my secret porn stash! (Oops, not so secret anymore!)

Can you think of the one thing in your life that you simply couldn't live without?

Love at first sight???

(2026 Edit - This post is from the archive: it was first published on 24 November 2007 at 17:54. Facts, feelings, and views may have changed since then.)

Phew, I've just come to the end of another night shift, and it's been a night where every single hour seemed like two! And, I wondered if there could be any more than 24 hours in the day? Why oh why, when you're watching the clock during working time, those ticking hands rotate at half speed, yet if it's your leisure time, they practically spin themselves off going so fast!

During those long dark night hours, we tried to make up songs about the place that is called work, now I don't claim to be a wordsmith or a clever lyricist, so my addition to the collective collaboration was simply - "I think this office, is like an orifice on the lower portions of a hippopotamus" OK, so perhaps I shouldn't give up the day night job! 

During lunch, David and I sloped off to Shaw Towers to escape, and whilst we were there, I popped a DVD of Sex And The City to while away our hour of freedom. It was one of the shows where someone was getting married to someone else after only knowing them a couple of days, love at first sight, and it's got me thinking. Is there such a thing as love at first sight?

I asked David, and his reply was a firm, vehement, No! A no messing, no nonsense. A non-confusing no. Rach from the office gave an equally strong no. I've just spoken to Jake, and he says yes, hurrah for romance!

What is Love at first sight? Well, according to the internet's equivalent of the font of all knowledge, otherwise known as Wikipedia, Love at first sight is an emotional condition whereby a person feels romantic attraction for a stranger on the first encounter with the stranger. The term may be used to refer to a mere sexual attraction or crush, but it usually refers to actually falling in love with someone, literally the very first time one sees him or her, along with the deep desire to have an intimate relationship with that person. The stranger may or may not be aware that the other person has any such notion, and may not even be aware of the other person's presence (such as in a crowded place). Sometimes two people experience this phenomenon towards each other at the same time, usually when their eyes meet.

If you ask me, I'd love to believe in love at first sight. I like the idea of romance, of the whole possibility that you can, possibly see that one person that you instantly know you want to spend the rest of your days with. You know what I'm talking about, the one person that presses all your buttons, that lights all your fuses, that ignites the fire within? As I say, I'd like to believe that you can see them, just once and know it's them for the rest of your natural born! But I think sometimes those four-letter words that both begin with L often go together, yet have completely different meanings. I am, of course, referring to love and lust, and when they collide, it can be fatal!

Love at first sight, I so want to believe, when I started writing this, my mind travels back a few years to a time in a smoke-clouded Revenge nightclub here in Brighton. I was walking through the lower floors bar with my pals DB and Dan, when all of a sudden, walking in the opposite direction was a single young lad, around my height, with dark hair, wide eyes and a strange yet intriguing smile. Our eyes met as we passed by each other. One, two, three, I turned to see at the same split second he also turned around. Humperty humperty humperty went my heart. However, my friends were still walking toward the bar, and he was walking towards the dance floor, and I thought, 'what a cute guy,' yet continued to the bar. Drinks were consumed, and dances were danced - with my friends. Then, we took a stroll on the upper level. Suddenly, as we were walking toward the upstairs dance floor, walking toward the bar.....yep, you've guessed right, that boy again, we smiled, we passed, one, two, three, we turned at the same time. Was it love at first sight, or was it lust? This time, we walked towards each other, no words were spoken, but our lips came together, as our lips parted and our tongues met each other, our hands explored each other's backs. Our chests were pressed together, and I swear I couldn't tell if the pounding I felt was our hearts beating at the same time or the thumpingly loud music. We broke this snog and smiled at each other, and then parted again.

I never did get to bed with that boy, although we've snogged each other many times on numerous nights after that first electrical meeting, we never took it to the next level. I have no idea if what I saw that first time in Revenge was love or lust; I can't tell, I don't know. But what I do know is, I have not forgotten that boy. I've often thought of him, I've often wondered about him, I've dreamt about him, I've not met him in the intervening years, yet, but he still controls a part of my heart and mind, and perhaps my very being. Whenever I hear the phrase 'love at first sight', I think, with a smile crossing my lips, I think of that night in Revenge when I saw him, that boy, who got the nickname 'cap-boy', for the very first time, and I wonder whether it was love at first sight or lust at first sight.

It's up to you now. Is there such a thing as love at first sight? Does it really happen? If so, who does it really happen to?

Madness!

(2026 Edit - This post is from the archive; it was first published on 19 November 2007 at 01:06.  Facts, feelings, beliefs may have changed since then.)

I woke with a full bladder and a howling in my head that struck my very core. Yet as I emptied my bladder, the howling continued unabated, either I have a brain tumour or it's windy outside, I reasoned with myself! I padded to the lounge and found the window open and thankfully gazing down the street to the sea, I could tell that the brain tumour had not struck me down during the hours of slumber - it was windy as hell! I could see the white water of the waves racing to shore and pondered going for a ride, obviously, it being a Sunday, I dismissed that thought straight from my head in an instant, I'm not that mad!

After I had ventured round the road to the little corner shop, which must be the only one left in England that isn't run by Asians and got the Sunday papers. I felt the wind on my face and decided to take a little walk along the front, so I went down that way and nearly got blown off my feet; it was then decided to be a short walk! I was along the front, looking at the waves and saw all these people along the bottom. There was some kind of commotion going on! Upon further inspection, I found it was the Brighton 10k run. These brave, or mad, fools were running a race with the wind in their faces; it must have been bloody hard, as I was having a job just staying upright, and I was standing still. I watched these athletic fools in admiration mixed with sympathy for a while, until my fingers had turned to ice and numbness was setting in, and my nose resembled Rudolf on the eve of Christmas!

So that was my morning, my seafront walk curtailed by the bitter wind and the rumbles of an empty tumtum! I relaxed with a bowl of muesli and worked my way through the papers whilst a seemingly unending circle of Grand Designs repeats played on one of the freeview channels. Whilst I was relaxing, on the other side of town, Jakey was working his little tush off in his part-time extracurricular paid activity. A rather well-paid part-time job that isn't conducted in an office, if you know what I mean? Still, a boy's gotta do what a boy's gotta do, especially one whose putting himself through university without rich parents to bankroll him.

Children In Need raised £19 million, £20 million, or £21m depending on which paper you read and with variables of 2 million between three newspapers, it makes you wonder how much of what they print as fact you can actually trust. But, whatever the actual bank balance, it's still a hefty sum of charity donations to help give the needy kids of once Great Britain get more smack, crack and coke!

The Christmas spirit seems to be a bit lacking in Australia, store Santas have been banned from chanting a merry ' Ho Ho Ho' because, in this 'politically correct' madness, it might offend some women; instead, they have to chant the un-traditional 'Ha Ha Ha'!

One of the funniest moments recently watched on 'I used to be a celebrity get me in here' was former boy-band member J, not having a clue of the running order on one of his own band's CDs. Luckily, from the group, dumb blonde Gemma the ex-actress from Hollyoaks, was a fan and got the question right, and they were rewarded with chocolate-covered strawberries. Oh, and staying with the show, I must say hats off to Geordie hosts Ant and Dec, for making this car-crash TV look good and almost interesting, which it has yet to be. Oh, and one other thing, is there ever anything that doesn't get a loud belly laugh from Mr Christoper Biggins, who must surely be the biggest and campiest creature in camp? You can say what you like about ol' Biggins, but he's sure put some life into this already dull show, so long may he continue and with a bit of luck and some double-sided sticky tape, he may yet be crowned King of the jungle!

I've always thought X Factor judge Louis Walsh was a bit of a knob; now he's just gone and proved it. Speaking after appearing on the really dross Katie & Peter Unleashed, he said of Ms Price, 'She asks the questions everyone at home is thinking? Really? Is that what he thinks? I would have thought most people at home were thinking the same as me, when is this fooking crap gonna end!!!!

If reality is no longer real, when is reality actually reality?

(2026 Edit - This is a post from the archive; it was first published on 16 November 2007 at 23:23. Facts, things, and views may have changed since then.)

The whole of the south has been bathed in clear blue skies and watery winter sunshine for the past couple of days, which has made my time away from the office all that much much more enjoyable. Yesterday I got the old cycle out and trundled off to Portslade and met up with Mo! Mo, for those that don't know, is a 50-something lady with the energy of a 20-year-old who loves to club to really hard dance music that's so hard it makes the ears of your average hoodie boy bleed! We nattered and chatted and then cycled down the prom. She went off to meet her daughter, and I came home to relax my aching muscles.

As one reality TV show takes to the airwaves, another finishes relatively unnoticed. Celebrity Scissor Hands, a show where allegedly celebs cut various poor sods' hair, all in the name of reality TV and charity. I'm not sure where they've got the idea of Celebs from, I mean, on this hairdressing disaster show they had tiny wee teen rapper 'Lil Chris' equally tiny yet much older actor Warwick Davis, DJ Brandon Block, some young Aussie geezer called Ben Nicholas who is/was an actor apparently, also a radio producer and some silly girl no one's every heard of. Oh, and some girl from Hollyoaks, which I haven't seen for some time. Obviously, not your A-list celebs feature on this BBC offering, which, as it was over on BBC3, had an audience of about 40 and a dog! Still, hey, it was for charity, so I shouldn't knock it too much. I'm just left with contemplating the question, why? Is this what some fat over 50s executive things the youth of today want?

So as the last snippy snips of the celebs' scissors fade into the distance over on ITV, their flagship reality show 'I used to be a celebrity and now need something major to relaunch my now dead career,' has started. OK, so perhaps I'm being a little unfair, I've previously enjoyed 'I'm a celebrity, get me out of here', I've liked the fact that these odd bods of z-listdom have had to sleep rough in the Australian jungle and do various horrendous stunts and trials to get food for the evening meals, obviously all under the watchful eye of hundreds of cameras.

Now this years collection of show business hasbeens included - Lynne Franks, Public Relations guru and New Age feminist who allegedly inspired Jennifer Saunders’ Absolutely Fabulous character, Edina Monsoon. Marc Bannerman, an actor Marc found fame playing Gianni de Marco in EastEnders, and has since undertaken a variety of new challenges, mainly signing on the dole! Gemma Atkinson, It’s hard to miss former Hollyoaks star Gemma, she’s usually plastered across the pages of lads’ mags, newspapers and women’s magazines. She also appeared in the last series of Soapstar Superstar, so in other words, she hasn't had a proper acting job since Hollyoaks. Jason J Brown from a now debunked boyband called 5, that lasted for all of five minutes. Anna Ryder Richardson, a pint sized designer that used to work on the BBC show Changing Rooms. Rodney Marsh - who? A moody chef John something race, who actually seems quite normal which is rather strange for a reality TV show entrant. Katie someone from another reality show, so hardly a celeb at all and then you have a former model that's was last seen in the 70's and should have stayed there and has the loudest mouth on the show and that's really saying something - Janice Dickenson. Oh and a former Brighton resident, a larger than life rollypolly Christopher Biggins, who'll go anywhere for a glass of champagne, indeed he was even spotted at the opening of an envelope recently.

So, this years collection is showing signs that even this flagship show is finding it tough to get decent celebs on board, could this be an indication that reality TV shows are on the way out and we, the viewing public are seeking an altogether more sophisticated form of entertainment?

Mind you, reality is less reality these days, previous revelations from various other progs in the same genre have shown us that the only reality left in reality TV is the editors knife. In the passed year we've had made up kids winning competitions, producers phoning in shows pretending to be the audience, a dangerous bear actually was a man in a bear suit, Gordon Ramsey fishing with a spear, yet the fish he 'caught' was actually one caught by someone else an hour before. We've seen clever editing making villains and hero's out of people that really don't deserve either title. And now, I'm hearing gossip on the 'jungle' drums that not all the pretend celebs over in Australia are spending all their time in camp. Oh no, from various reports received from one of the crew over there, certain celebs are nipping out of camp to the crew village, relaxing in the warm, having proper toilet breaks, beer and energy bars proper nosh up. Timmy M is working on the ITV2 version of the show and told of how he went to one of the drinks areas for a beverage for his shows presenter Matt Willis and found two of the supposedly 'imprisioned celebs' lounging about. So it would appear that even this reality is not actual realatiy, just a TV version or what reality would be had it been left to be real. Which begs the question what really is rreality these days? And, is it really reality if there are no reality TV show cameras there to record it? And does an warbling tree knat's farts sreally smell if there is no-one in the Queensland jungle to smell it?

I'm going for a lie down now, I think I've overdone the whole reality thing! I can not cope any longer, I need a break from all of this, give me a dose of normal TV, please!

mucking fuddled

(2026 Edit - this post was found in the archive, dated 6 Oct 2027 at 12:04.  I was working for a large American company at the time, living in Brighton, Sussex. Things, views and events may have changed since then!)

Sometimes life is all straightforward with hardly a kink and then at other times it's a right old mucking fuddling puddle of tangledness! I've just finished work and feel about as normal as a washing machine in the desert; my mind is pretty much mush ( some of you maybe thinking, nothing's different!)

I've been kinda bitchy to my mate David tonight, but it wasn't my fault; he needed it, and it's because he barged his way into Gabriel's dressing room the night before last and I always blame him a little bit for the god-awful state I was in after our drunken night on the town!

Everything seems to be confusing me at the moment; first there is a new film about the life and times of Bob Dylan that's been approved, but there are six people going to be playing the music man. Richard Gere, Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Ben Whishaw, and young black actor Marcus Carl Franklin in his movie debut all play the great man; the sixth person in the film to be Bob is.....Cate Blanchett! Yep, confusing!

Troubled actress Lindsay Lohan, yeah that young soak, has checked out of a rehab clinic in Utah where she went in August following charges of drunken driving and cocaine possession, because she says she doesn't have a problem! Yeah right!

Nearly 300 participants started twisting and turning a small multicoloured cube on Friday on the first day of the Rubik's Cube World Championships in Budapest, the birthplace of the cult puzzle. Hello, the Rubik Cube? Have we gone back in time? Didn't we have that in the 80's? Is it back? I've not seen one in people's hands since, well, since I was at school. Surely we're not back in the 1980's again; surely I've not slipped back to those heady days when the only thing I had to worry about was beating Marcus 'Fingers' Totting in matching the six colours on the six sides! Well, that and not getting caught behind the groundsman's shed having a crafty fag with Gary or a sly five knuckle shuffle in the art store room with Jon! Actually come to think about it, perhaps it would be nice to be back in those days again! But, I'm not going back to having blisters on my thumbs from twisting that poxy cube for anyone!

It's not quite "Jurassic Park", but Swiss archaeologists were in a state of high alarm yesterday after thieves stole traces of a dinosaur footprint from an excavation site! Yep, apparently they just waltzed in and whipped away the footprint said to be 152 million years old. But the experts say that if it comes up for sale they will know about it! Yeah no shit Sherlock! I mean how often do you see a sale for something that old?

A Texas woman has escaped being charged with 'negligent homicide' (only in America!) after she killed her husband with a sherry enema. Tammy Jean Warner was due to go on trial last week but she's been let off due to the lack of evidence! But why on earth would you shove sherry up the arse?

A thief has stolen a cardboard cut-out of a policeman which was put in a store to deter shoplifters! Yeah honestly it's true, Derbyshire Police said a man had been seen on CCTV walking with the picture under his arm from a shop in Grasmere. The cut-outs were first introduced in shops in the area in 2005 in the hope that, at a glance, thieves would think the image was a real officer. But if that was the case, then why did the publicise it, with photo's clearly showing it was a cardboard cut out?

That's ya lot for today!