Sunday, 29 January 2017
Saturday, 24 November 2012
Monday, 29 October 2012
“That’s unusual” I say, as I look up at the sun that has a plaster on it’s face and singing “It’s getting hot in here” whilst removing various items of clothing. Then I remember I’m in Spain, and not in England, so a stripping sun singing Nelly songs isn’t that unusual. I am currently accompanying my mum on a post-dinner walk. It is a pleasant yet uncomfortable walk, partly due to these flip-flops that are flipping and flopping in all the wrong directions. But mainly because every other shop we pass has a caboodle of T-shirts on show, with non-family friendly gags such as a picture of sheep with the word ‘SILF’ underneath it.....or towels with heavily chested topless women, in uniforms no police force or fire brigade would ever approve. I haven’t felt this embarrassed since I texted a girl at work ‘LOL’ forgetting she could see me and I wasn’t even close to laughing out loud. A mosquito is having a picnic on my neck, nibbling away. I make a mental note to pass this off as a love bite to my friends back home. My mum seems equally as uncomfortable as we pass a t-shirt displaying several sex positions I’m not sure lizards would actually be able to perform. She quickly detours and slips into a shop labelled ‘Supermarket’ but what British supermarkets would laugh at and pick on in the playground. It is clearly a Newsagents. The newsagent greets my mum with an ‘Olla’. My mum looks at the lady’s hands then walks on, clearly thinking that she had said ‘Voila’ and was just a terrible magician. I follow my mum as she dances down the isle looking at the various items begging to be bought. She stops and considers a range of peanuts, giving them great thought as though trying to pick an Instagram filter. I keep a safe distance, well aware of the dangers nuts pose to my well being. I’ve had that battle before. As I give the peanuts a dirty look something catches my eye. On the shelf below is a collection of ornaments. Wooden ornaments.Wooden ornaments, delicately hand crafted into undeniable PENISES!! THAT’S RIGHT MY FRIENDS!!….and you, random stranger who Googled ‘ridiculously handsome and talented young man’ and found your way here. A WHOLE HERD OF THEM!! PENISES!! WITH THEIR HEADS HELD HIGH!! PROUDLY INSCRIBED WITH ‘MALLORCA’ ACROSS THEIR CHESTS!! BOASTING VERY GENEROUS PRICES!! My imaginary military training kicks in and I quickly dive in front of them, pushing my mother back. “LOOK MUM!! LOOK AT THAT AMAZING TIN OF BAKED BEANS OVER THERE!!!” I say, pointing at the opposite direction. “IT’S….IT’S AMAZING!!' I continue, probably using the word ‘amazing’ a little too fast and loose, overselling what is actually the same tin of Heinz beans my mum currently has in her kitchen cupboard. I hurry her away and we turn the corner and proceed down the second isle.
We stare at the most unappealing bars of chocolate known to man, they look as old as Spain itself!! We catch each others eye and share a hearty laugh…an expression I don’t really understand…..I mean, do you laugh so much your heart pops up to say hi? Or does it have a chuckle while your other organs sit there like “what’s up with Fred?” …..either way, if ever we have had a hearty laugh, it is now, as it lasts longer than the debate about whether Tomato Ketchup should be stored in the fridge or the cupboard. We continue down the isle and I hear a noise….the very same haunting noise you hear in a horror film when something dark and evil is approaching. I look ahead, half expecting an angry vampire who is appalled at the way Twilight has portrayed his people. But what do I see? AN ENTIRE COLUMN OF SHELVES WITH PENISES!! IT LOOKS LIKE A GIANT LASAGNE MADE OF SPAGHETTI RUGS!! CRUDE, LUCID, INEPT, PENISES!!! SOME BIG LIKE PANINI'S!! SOME SMALL, LIKE TIM BURTONS CASTING LIST!! SOME WITH DECORATIVE PATTERNS!! SOME WITH JAMAICAN RASTA HATS SMOKING WEED!! PENIS KEY CHAINS!! PENIS MAGNETS!! SOME LIKE FLUTES!!….OH GOD, THAT ONE ACTUALLY IS A FLUTE!!! DID ONE JUST LOOK AT ME!!? IM PETRIFIED!!! THERE ARE SO MANY OF THEM!!! SO OFFENDING!! SO INSULTING!! even more so than watching porn on your phone at a strip club. How will I get my mum past them without her spotting them!!? AND WHAT IS SPAIN’S OBSESSION WITH PENISES!!!
Mum is fast approaching behind me. I need a distraction!! THINK!! I break into a dance……it’s not perfect but it’s a start. I soon realise this isn’t working, she knows me too well, she’s not affected by my strange moves. She knows I do silly things all the time. Like when I wiped my fingerprints from that crime scene and left my touchscreen phone. I have to try something else. “MUM!! LOOK AT THIS MILKSHAKE!! IT HAS A SMILING PARROT ON IT!!! It’s working, she’s gliding towards me. “CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS!!? HAH….PARROTS DON’T DRINK MILKSHAKES!!” I exclaim, forcing out the most disbelief my face can muster. She continues to follow me as though I was a master Tweeter. Can’t say I blame her…It’s a milkshake WITH A SMILING PARROT ON IT!! As far as milkshakes go this is pretty fascinating!! We move in unison as I guide her past the castle of genitalia. I can’t believe I done it!! YOU LOSE MINI PENIS LAND!!! YOU WONT TAINT MY MOTHERS EYES WITH YOUR DIRTY INDECENT EXPOSURE!! AWAY WITH YOU!! YOU WILL NEVER GET THE PLEASURE OF CATCHING HER ATTENTION!! YOU SHALL NOT PLUNDER HER INNOCENCE!! GO TAKE A COLD SHOWER EVIL PHALLUSES!!! Taking no chances I continue to navigate her towards the door. “At the roundabout, take the first exit”…..Mum gives me a look then stops me in front of the newsagent, slash magician. “Hey Dan, do you need a lighter?”. I look at her, concerned. She knows I don't smoke. Did she eat one of those old chocolate bars!? “I don’t smoke, why would I need a lighter?” I ask before looking in the direction she is pointing to, only to find an assortment of lighters shaped like penises with smiley faces on them.
Sunday, 5 August 2012
So I'm in my kitchen as a repair man works on our washing machine. Despite my begging and pleading it refused to wash my clothes, but I guess that’s repair men for ya. The man, James, is explaining intricate details of the cause of the machine’s failure. I nod along, pretending I know exactly what he was saying, but for all I know he could have been revealing his distaste for his wife's sexual abilities, in Japanese!! I continue to nod along anyway because, in any case, as any house designer will tell you, there's always room for improvement in the bedroom. The man stops and takes a moment to make a delightful comment on the repair man who was here last week. "What a effin moron!!" he says with a look of disbelief. I stand there startled because I actually understood what he said and there is a slim chance I can now speak Japanese. "He ordered the completely wrong parts the bloody idiot!! He could have really damaged your washing machine if he had put those in". I cast my mind back to last week where I exchanged pleasant conversation with the repair man about tennis, and he complimented the extravaganza that was my morning hair. He seemed ok to me, he had a splendid neon watch.... but I have no allegiance to that repair man. I have a new repair man now who seems to know what he's doing, and if he wants to bitch about the last man, that's what will happen. And so, I offer my best insult in concurrence with his views. "oh.... yea, big douche!!" I say, shaking a flimsily clenched fist.
He scrutinises his computer screen as though he was watching cctv footage of last week's repair man torturing his daughter. "Says here he was working on it for two and a half hours!? What was he doing all that time?". I open my mouth and let out words, "He was tapping away on his computer for the most part..... probably on Facebook" I say, proud of my momentary wit. "Yea, or some online dating site" the man fires back. We both chuckle. I like this guy. We continue the banter. He says the man’s match.com membership is free now because he's been on there more than 5 years. I say it's probably because he has the wrong parts. We chuckle. I have somehow joined forces with this guy and inherited a common enemy. There is no faster way to bond than a good old fashioned bitching over a mutual target. I think back again to last week. That repair man probably didn't know what he was doing, probably hiding it by complimenting my hair. I was naive to think just because he wore a Hotpoint sweatshirt that he knew my washing machine. Sure, he had walked up to it like they were old crochet partners at the local lodge, but who's to say he was an 'expert'. Names are just given to people willy nilly. Like the girl with the dragon tattoo, why is she defined by that, for all you know she has a tattoo of a bunny under her left armpit!! "Blooming repair men eh" I say before remembering who I was speaking to and realising it was probably as inconsiderate as bringing a 'Get Well' card to a funeral. He looks at me like I would if I was in his shoes... with a face that says 'Did he just say what I think he did’..... and also...’these shoes are a bit big'. I quickly spit out a compliment to counter, ‘Well I’m glad I got you today, someone who actually knows what he’s doing’. He smiles, instantly lit up like he was a last minute floor tile replacement and Michael Jackson had just stepped on him. I stand there smug like a guy who knows he’s walking into his own surprise party. “I could do this with my eyes closed” he announces boldly, which seemed more about the last guys incompetence than his own skills. “There’s no washing machine I’ve not been able to tame” he continues. “There are some people who can and some people who can’t”. I look at him admiring the specimen of a real man’s man. The type of guy who needs no man to fix his leaky tap, or install laminated flooring. The type of guy who will screw in a light bulb whilst mounting a coat rack to the wall. Need a new timing belt placed in your car? James is your guy!! He’s the one you want to fix your washing machine. Last weeks repair man was apparently en route to blowing up the thing!! Clearly clueless, like when I wore a purple t-shirt and auditioned to be a Ribena berry...I’m not sure what the job included but they were very insistent on team players...kept saying they needed people who ‘mixed well’ with others *shrug*.
I put my apparent man crush to the side and we continue to bond over the uselessness of last weeks repair man and conclude that his skills would be better utilized licking peal & seal envelopes. James works his magic, unscrewing more screws than bugs under a wet rock. Beating a part into its place like a slave driver. Programming the machine’s control panel with the flair of a windows IT specialist. Some parts he actually DID do with his eyes closed. I watch as he plugs back in the plug and starts it up. “Here we go” he says. The machine makes the appropriate starting sounds. “Piece of cake” James says, which I hope was not a request because we had none. Then the machine does its routine pause that tells us in moments it will pump water into the drum. I stand there exchanging a face of satisfaction with James who is crouched by the machine. I can finally wash my clothes!! A moment passes..............We remain static, poised in our success................Another moment passes..................“This is normal” I say, “It always takes a few seconds to prepare itself”............yet another moment goes by. The look of satisfaction has eroded from our faces. James lets out an awkward “C’ohhh c’mon” partnered with a smile. I return a smile that communicates a common knowledge of washing machines being infamously slow starters.................A few more moments go by. This is getting really uncomfortable now. Here I have proclaimed this man as the best thing since Bob The Builder......he had boasted he didn’t need the trivial ability of sight to fix a machine......we have blasted the previous repair man into oblivion for not being able to do the job......It simply HAS TO WORK!! ………I have picked a spot on the floor to stare at as we stand there. I sneak a glance at James, he has done the same. The look of worry in his eyes is undeniable. I stare back at my spot as a few more moments elude us............FOR THE LOVE OF MARY, WORK!!! WE HAVE REACHED A POINT WHERE NONE OF US KNOW WHAT TO SAY. NOT ONLY THAT, WE CAN’T SEEM TO MOVE!!! WE ARE FROZEN STATUES, AVOIDING EYE CONTACT, EVERY SECOND PASSING NOW SEEMING LIKE HOURS!! ‘PIECE OF CAKE’ HE HAD SAID!!! WHY DID HE HAVE TO GO AND SAY THAT!!!?? WHY DID I JOIN IN WITH HIS ASSAILMENT OF LAST WEEKS REPAIR MAN!!! OH GOD, ‘I COULD DO THIS WITH MY EYES CLOSED!!’ THAT’S WHAT HE HAD SAID!!! WHY WOULD YOU PUT THAT KINDA PRESSURE ON YOURSELF JAMES!!! NOW LOOK WHERE WE ARE!!! THERE’S A HUGE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM!! ….’THERE’S NO WASHING MACHINE I HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO TAME!!!’ HE MUST BE HUMILIATED!!! AND I’M THERE. JUST THERE, STANDING!! IN DIRTY CLOTHES!! STARING AT A SPOT ON THE FLOOR!!! WITH NO CAKE TO OFFER HIM!!! IT CLEARLY ISN’T WORKING!! NOW WE HAVE TO STAY HERE LIKE THIS!!! FOR WHO KNOWS HOW LONG!!! I WANT TO JUST RUN AWAY!! ONE MINUTE I’D BE THERE, AND THE NEXT, MY ASS IS GONE, LIKE NICKI MINAJ HAD SAT ON A PIN CUSHION!!! But then, a sound......water!! HAZAAAAA!!! We both stifle a sigh of relief. Oh James, how could I have ever doubted you!! You’re the man! A man’s man!! He packs up his tools and heads for the door. He seems a little less chipper, as if his confidence had been shaken. Still unable to say anything. I try a desperate last minute re-ice breaker. “Please excuse my morning hair, you came sooner than I expected.” He turns to me 'It is rather horrid isn't it'. Hmm, I want the rubbish guy from last week back.
Thursday, 17 May 2012
As a superhero who was showered with super powers on the lower end of the spectrum, I gotta say, I really wanted this film to be AN ABOMINATION!! I mean, while Stan Lee was handing out technologically enhanced flying Iron suits and emotionally activated gamma ray strength, all I was given was super human abilities, which sounds fancy, but really is just a fancy way of saying I am extremely human!! ... Oh, I was however also given the power to change my nose.... That's right! CHANGE MY BLOODY NOSE!! Like I can ever save the world with that!!!
I enter the cinema and use my severely normal, if not, below average 'seeing' powers, along with my 'ticket reading' power to locate my seat.... laugh now but I bet there are blind illiterate people still wanderings the isles of the cinema trying to find their seats! As soon as the film started, it was clear to me this was anything but AN ABOMINATION!! The screen was filled with more delights than a Turkish wrapper could contain. Seeing the selection of household name superheroes get together.....y'know, to fight crime... not in any sort of orgy way... was more exciting than a headline that reads ‘Leaked Nude Scarlett Johansson Pictures’. When they fought each other, I loved it... when they cooperated with each other, I loved it. Purely seeing them interact on any level was a joy.....It could have literally been a green veiny hand and a shiny iron hand having a thumb war on screen and I probably would have accidentally slapped a child in excitement. There was true chemistry between the characters...not to say they were separated by Bunsen burners and Glass Flasks...but they’re combined personalities proved very entertaining. This worked well because each character was established, and familiar.. and more importantly interesting!! So when Iron Man and Captain America are on the brink of an old fashioned back alley brawl that would settle a lot of unresolved school kid, playground debates, we sit there wide eyed, clench fisted, screaming out “KICK HIM IN THE IRON BALLS!!!”.
As I sat there, using my astoundingly unaltered human strength to lift my drink to my mouth, and back to the cup holder, I revelled in mindless, relentless action. Action that slapped me with a wet fish every time I blinked. Action that dressed like Lady Gaga and craved attention. I didn't feel worthy of seeing such action!! How did I get the privilege of seeing a spectacle of this scale!? Yes my wallet is a little lighter, but surely the average human being shouldn't be allowed to see such awesomeness. So I sit there thinking 'I shouldn't be here!' like someone had switched the gender signs on the toilet doors, or like a trolley outside the boundaries of the supermarket car park. But I grin, because I AM here, and I just saw the Hulk ragdoll someone like a baby with a rattle!!
I was so hyped up after seeing this film that whilst shuffling in the stream of people leaving the auditorium, doing my best hulk impression, I randomly head butted a guy built like a house, in the back of his head!! He turned round angrily, nose flaring, veins pumping!! I quickly changed my nose.. IT COULDN'T POSSIBLY BE ME!! LOOK AT MY NOSE!!!!
Sunday, 6 November 2011
So I’m at work with a smile on my face, like a clown, except my shoes are of regular proportion...which is no reflection on my manhood. I’m smiling because my stomach was crying, but lunchtime has arrived, so now my stomach is giving me an internal high five, which kinda feels like heartburn. ‘We’re gonna be ok’ I say to my belly, gently tapping it. A co-worker see’s me and gives me a look so I quickly shift to tapping my pockets and looking confused like I had misplaced my keys.
I slam the door open with an urgency that suggested my food was going to pass its expiry date in the next 10 minutes. ‘LUNCHTIME IS HERE’ I want to cheer. There is also a dance I wish to accompany this cheer with that relies on a significant shake of the tooshie. I can not do these things however, because it appears I have disturbed the peace of the canteen by slamming the door in my excitement. I’m now standing by the doorway as seven people stare at me in disbelief. Disgust even. It’s as if I have burst into a library, broke out the tambourines, and started a musical striptease singing ‘It’s Raining Men’. The canteeners are not impressed. I whisper an apology and find myself a seat next to a guy we’ll call Gary. It’s ridiculously quiet in here!! You can hear a pin drop....and cry for it’s mother....then the sound of a plaster being put on...and the ‘I told you so’ lecture, stating ‘this is why pins shouldn’t ride in hot air balloons’. IT’S QUIET!! I look around, everybody has returned to their lunches. Newspapers are being rustled. Mobile phones are being tickled. Left over pasta bakes are being sloppily consumed, with bits being left on faces. It’s a gathering of individuals. Individuals who are content in their individual spaces. Individuals who share no interest in conversing with the other individuals in the room. Here QUIET is desired. QUIET is king. QUIET is GOD!! and all those who do not abide by QUIET’s rules will be damned!! But I have no interest in breaking these rules, for I have a sandwich to devour. I whip out my lunch faster than an 18 year old whips out their ID to buy alcohol for the first time, and spread the contents in front of me like I’m on Ready, Steady, Cook.
A sandwich, filled with ham, lettuce and cucumber. A chocolate bar, a packet of Chilli Heatwave Doritos and a bottle of Ribena....the yucky strawberry one...apparently the newsagent didn't sell the blackcurrant one.....although in hindsight I may have asked for a blackberry, it would explain why he pointed at the Carphone Warehouse across the road. As I eye up my options I notice that Gary has almost the exact same lunch as me, except, instead of a chocolate bar he has an orange. Eugh, I am appalled at the choice of health over taste, not me, I’d never substitute chocolate for fruit. I’m the type that’ll keep ‘Terry’s Chocolate Orange’ in my fruit bowls and ‘Roses’ in my vases. I start to wonder what’s in his sandwich...I guess I could probably grab it and have a fumble through....although, probably not the best idea considering he’s currently eating it....plus I’d hate to get my fingers covered in chorizo and avocado or something. I Ip-dip-do my way to my sandwich. Oh stomach of mine, this ones for you!!! CRUNCH!!!!
I pause in shock. WHAT WAS THAT!? It was so loud!! TOO LOUD!! I take another chew...slooooooowly......CRUNCH!!!! WHOA NELLY!!! I see a few people turn and quickly glance at me. My face makes an expression of confusion....then it hits me.....THE LETTUCE!!.......no, THE CUCUMBER!!!! In all it’s freshness it’s releasing a loud shriek of pain with every bite!! ‘You can’t do that Mr. Cucumber!!’ I plead in my head, ‘You’ll upset the canteeners, ruin the zen they’ve created, mess up the feng shui!!’ I take another bite. CRUNCH!! It appears the cucumber doesn’t care about the the feng shui, but then again, how many cucumbers do these days. I look around. Nobody is looking my way but I know what they’re all thinking...’If that guy doesn’t shut up I’ll kick him where the sun don’t shine!!!’. I start to envision trousers with new technology that allows sun access to the crotch region. But I have no choice, If I don’t eat my stomach will kill me! After what seems like a lifetime of small nibbles my sandwich is consumed. I pick up my packet of Doritos and a ripple of crinkles explodes into the atmosphere. ‘OH GOD!’ I think, ‘How do I possibly get through a packet of crisps without causing an uproar!? I open the packet and take out a crisp. ‘Please Mr. Dorito, don’t make a ruckus’, I beg. ‘Don’t be like Mr. Cucumber, you care about the feng shui don’t you’. Mr. Dorito gives me a reassuring look that says ‘You can trust in me’ so I raise the crisp to my mouth..............CRUUUUNNNCCHHH!!!!! MR.DORITO YOU HAVE FORSAKEN ME!!! Mr. Dorito laughs maliciously all the way down my throat. I hear people sighing but I dare not look at them. I suspect they have pitchforks and threatening signs now, and I am no match for pitchforks and threatening signs!! I look over at Gary who is also eating his crisps....silently!! HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE!! Its like he has his crisps on mute!! The crisps go in and silence!! he dips his hand in the packet and SILENCE!! He’s got to be cheating somehow, like the guy moonwalking with skates in the ‘BAD’ video. He’s being as quiet as a mouse!! ...why do people assume mice are quiet!? and that they don't stir, they’re convinced by it, enough to put it in rhythmic Christmas carols.....clearly these people haven't seen ‘Ratatouille’. Its like he’s eating CANDY FLOSS while I’m creating bloody avalanches!!
I try another one in case the last was just a rebel, a crisp equivalent of an adolescent teenager going through hard times, just trying to express itself in ways adults just can not comprehend. CRUNCH!!! I guess not. The room practically shakes, I see people steady themselves by holding onto tables and grasping their cans of Fanta in case they vibrate off the surface. I notice a few more looks my way. The guy eating pasta looks down at his unused knife and then at me. OH GOD!! I think. THIS IS TERRIBLE!! This is worse than the depression you feel when you try a new anti-perspirant and still sweat buckets!! I look down at the remaining Doritos in the packet, they all stare back with malicious grins. I put the packet down sadly while Gary continues to soundlessly indulge on his crisps. I look at my chocolate bar. There are a few more sighs around the room. The pasta guy is now gripping his knife....... I turn to Gary and ask to swap his orange for my ‘Crunchie’.
Sunday, 30 October 2011
Let me put this simply, I FREAKIN LOOOOOVED THIS FILM!!!!! I LOVED IT SO MUCH I’M SCARED I MIGHT HAVE AN STD!!! You see, there are ‘movies’…there are ‘Steven Spielberg movies’…then there are ‘STEVEN FREAKIN SPIELBERG MOVIES!!!’. This is the latter!! It has been a while since Spielberg has done a movie where he has really let loose and had fun with a film. In Tintin he reminds us why he is one of the greatest filmmakers of all time. From the very first scene he had me gripped, GRIPPED!!! IT WAS DAMN NEAR ASSAULT!!! I WOULD HAVE CALLED THE POLICE IF I COULD GET A SIGNAL!!! ‘POLICE POLICE!!’ I would have shouted, ‘SPIELBERG HAS ME GRIPPED!!! HE HAS ME IN AN ANACONDA CHOKE AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT HE WANTS!! HE WONT LET GO!!! ITS LIKE HE’S DROWNING AND I’M A FLOATATION DEVICE!!!’. The visuals command respect! Like a teacher with a gun!! I sat there quietly and kept my head down to avoid getting asked questions I didn’t know the answers to. Seriously, I’ve not been as captured by an opening scene and presence of a movie since ‘Lost in translation’ where Scarlett Johansson’s bum is the first and only thing we see for a good forty seconds. You’re welcome.
The most impressive thing about this film to me was the camera work. I can not remember the last time I saw such creativity and exploration with a camera. This has always been a skill that Spielberg has revelled in but he really cranked it up in this film. It brings me so much pleasure to say he is back on top form……in fact, it almost makes me question if he was on performance enhancement drugs whilst doing this!! There’s so much I can say about this film but I’ve wasted a lot of space already so I’ll just quick fire a few things. The way he juggles the many different themes and locations is absolutely flawless!! The humour threaded in the film is brilliant and largely credited to Andy Serkis as ‘Captain Haddock’ and the unstoppable duo Nick Frost & Simon Pegg as the ‘Thompson twins’. There are creative transitions in this film that make you go ‘Whoa…what a creative transition’. There is also a great JAWS reference in this film that you can’t help but chuckle at. The 3D was good (not great), and quite frankly I would love to see it again on the big screen. Can’t wait to see what Peter Jackson will brings to the table in the sequel, but I know for sure that another cinema seat will be blocked!!
Saturday, 29 October 2011
He walks away, leaving me standing there more confused than a tea biscuit next to a cup of coffee. Hang on!! I think, did Mike think I was being serious!? Does he actually think I can’t afford a haircut!? Does he actually think I have let it grow for over 2 years because I couldn’t afford to let someone take a pair of clippers, scissors, or a weed wacker to it!? Haircuts are like £8, EIGHT POUNDS!!! Hell, I could probably get it cut, washed & dyed electric yellow for £18…or even cheaper if I went to that guy down the road with the gimpy arm!! Maybe he thinks this is why I got this job!! That I have been saving up coppers I find in between sofas and in the washing machine for 2 years trying to raise enough money to get my hair cut. God, I OWN A PAIR OF CLIPPERS!! I COULD CUT MY OWN HAIR!! I COULD CUT HIS HAIR IF I WANTED TO!! I want to hold up my debit card and wave it at him like it was undeniable proof that I have money…like only the cream of the crop can attain a debit card, however the evil forces that be made me forget my wallet at home. Stupid evil forces, probably toasting now with glasses of chocolate flavoured milk and victory cookies, and looking all smug. I look over to where Mike is now standing, only to catch him again looking over at me with pity. Looking at me like I’m walking on the posh side of Bluewater with a ‘Topman’ Sale bag. Like my version of Christmas is going to random building receptions and saying I’ve lost a box that has ‘Lost Property’ written on it!! ‘CUT IT OUT MIKE!!’ I want to say but he’d probably think I was begging him to cut my hair!!
I finish my shift with Bob Marley playing through my earphones, and every so often throwing around my imaginary dreadlocks. I leave and walk to the my bus stop only to find I have no change for the bus. I sigh, because that’s what people do in situations like this……I’m not sure why, if I had my way people would shout out “GOLLY!!”. After a few more sighs I walk to the closest cashpoint, which is about as close as earth is to the sun!! I eventually reach the cashpoint, developing lovely sweat patches on my t-shirt. As i reach into my pocket I then remember I have left my wallet at home. “YOU PLUM!!!” I scream to myself. I turn around and head back getting slightly lost on the way and cursing myself for not leaving a trail of breadcrumbs behind me. I get back to my workplace, at which point my t-shirt is more sweat than cotton. I see my co-worker Steve and rush towards him. “STEVE!!” I say, abstrusely delighted, as though the last time I saw him he was running past with a bomb strapped to his chest. “Do you have two pounds I could borrow?” I plead doing my best puppy dog eyes but probably looking more like a baby walrus. He has a quick fumble in his pocket then hands me a shiny £2 coin. My eyes light up like I had swallowed a glow worm who had swallowed a tiny torch. I’m ecstatic!! “YOU’RE A LIFE SAVER!!” I exclaim, half hugging him before remembering how sweaty I was. HA!! TAKE THAT EVIL FORCES!! TRYING TO MAKE ME WALK HOME!!! NO CELEBRATION COOKIES FOR YOU TODAY!! GO BACK TO THE EVIL PITS OF WHICH YOU EMERGED FROM!! GO FORTH AND TELL YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER THAT YOU FAILED AT LIFE TODAY!! TELL YOUR CHILDREN THAT THEIR FATHER IS ON THE VERGE OF REDUNDANCY!!! TELL YOUR NEIGHBOURS THAT YOU DO NOT EXHIBIT THE QUALITIES OF THOSE IN YOUR NEIGHBOURHOOD!!! AND SLEEP UPON THE BATHROOM FLOOR FOR BEDS ARE ONLY FOR THE DESERVING!!! Still jubilant and full of smiles I lower the £2 coin from the air. Somewhere during my excitement I had raised it to the sky and hailed it as my king. I thank Steve and turn to leave only to see Mike standing behind me, looking at the coin. He flashes me a proud smile, almost teary eyed and pats me on the back as if to say ‘You hang on in there mate, things will get better’. I acknowledge his non-verbalised encouragement with a hesitant nod and walk off. GOLLY!!
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
My friend Joey got me Woody for my 25th and Buzz for my 26th. Thankfully Buzz didn’t venture out on a bus trip to Woolwich all by himself like The Sheriff did…but I guess when you have a badge you can do whatever you want. Thanks Joey :)
Monday, 17 October 2011
So I’m with my friend Steph who has nice hair, I know this because I have seen it. We are in Bluewater waiting to see a film but have 20 minutes before it starts so we sit down and have a little chatter…and by ‘chatter’ I mean I stare at her glorious hair……look at how it moves, so graceful, so full of life, unlike some other ladies hairs who’s movement is as half-assed as the naming of the Milkybar…seriously what makes the milk deserve such accolade over the other ingredients!? …I snap out of my gaze to find Steph laughing. I must have said something funny, it happens once in a while. I laugh along, hoping I didn’t have a leaf in my hair or something. I notice Steph’s boobs bounce as she laughs, I suddenly realise that I want a milkshake. Moments later we are McDonald’s……we walked there……just in case you were thinking we snapped our fingers and POOFed our way there like a pair of wizards. I look at Steph, she returns the look. She already knows what I’m getting but I want to say it anyway. “Naanaa!!” I proclaim, probably a little too loudly. You see, I am quite fond of bananas and banana flavoured items, but even more fond of calling it ‘Naanaa’. Steph gives me the ‘you just couldn’t resist could you’ look. “I called it that too..” she says “…when I was LITTLE!!”. I think she is trying to make a point but I just can’t make it out. “I should say it when I order” I joke, smiling gleefully. I have always wanted to but never had the courage, I mean, what if they look at me like I’m……y’know……special! “Yea you SO should” Steph says encouragingly. I look at her and see the seriousness in her eyes. She actually wants me to say it!! She wants them to look at me like I’m……y’know……special!
“I can’t, I’m scared” I confess to her. She remains silent but I still feel her insistent eyes. I WONT DO IT YOU HEAR ME!!! THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO OR SAY TO MAKE CHANGE MY MIND!! I think to myself. But then Steph flicks her hair………………… “Ok the only way I’ll do this is if I say it totally casually with a dead straight face, like saying naanaa is the most natural thing in the world”. She looks at me confused. I then realise she probably wasn’t as insistent as I thought she was, and that I had lulled myself into a situation because of self-induced pressure!! A member of staff logs onto an available till and calls us over. God what have I got myself into!! This is awful!! I can’t say this!! Can I just not say it!? I catch a quick glance of Steph, she is full of expectancy. THIS IS TORTURE!! ACTUAL TORTURE!! LIKE TELLING YOUR TOILET YOU’RE GOING OUT FOR A MEAL AT AN INDIAN RESTAURANT!! “Can I help?” the lady says with the joyfulness that is often lost in McDonald staff. I take a deep breath and get into the zone, there is no turning back now, ITS DO OR DIE!! “Hi” I say “…can I have a naanaa milkshake please?”. The lady reaches to press a button on her screen but then stops… “a what!?” she asks puzzled. God she’s gonna make me say it again!? I hear Steph snicker beside me. “A naanaa” I say, less confidently this time. “Banana!” she says, tapping it into her till. Steph’s boobs are bouncing and her hair is gliding, she is close to tears!! As we leave McDonalds I turn back and catch the lady looking at me, like I’m……y’know……special
(Audio clip below)
Wednesday, 5 October 2011
Monday, 5 September 2011
I look at my target. There it lays, deep within the fiery constraints of the……erm, fire. Oh I see you there……looking all unattainable…guarded by your foul breathed dragon, cushioned by the unstable rotting wooden bridge between us. Oh yes, you’re good. I’m impressed, like when women take off their bra’s without taking off their tops, or when I Google voice search ‘Scarlett Johansson’ and it searches for ‘Scarlett’s old grandson’ which is close enough for me. I hope you’re thirsty cause I got you a round of applause, bravo. “Excuse me” says the shopping centre cleaner who’s path I am currently obstructing. I step to the side and let him pass on his ‘floor cleaning doo-daa’ (#TechnicalTerm)…not once taking my eyes off the target. There before me stands a woman. The world’s most beautiful woman. If you looked up ‘Beautiful’ in a dictionary……wait this is 2011, if you Google image searched ‘Beautiful’ her picture would come up……along with some pictures of pretty butterflies and sarcastically tagged pictures of Lady Gaga. Now, she may not be guarded by a fire breathing dragon but she is indeed guarded. She is in the middle of the shopping centre, surrounded by a C shaped nut stand, displaying a rainbow selection of varied nuts, of different shapes and sizes. These nuts are practically shouting ‘Yes we are nuts but we are just as sexy as those Skittles and Smarties!!’. And to top it off the lady is holding a tray of free samples close to her chest……(which is covered in a ‘The Who’ T-shirt……hence the whole ‘target’ analogy…not just a pretty face my friend). Now if you know me, and let’s face it, you do……after all I’ve probably shoved the link to this post in your face and offered you free back rubs on the promise that you’ll read it……you’d know that I am allergic to nuts. Badly allergic, even writing the word ‘nuts’ makes me itch…it has absolutely nothing to do with me not bathing for 3 days. I look at her and all I see is a giant padlock with breasts. She stands there with her assembly of nuts, acting like bouncers to a club called 'Bow Chicka Wow Wow’ that sells cocktails like ‘Sex on the beach’ and ‘Slippery Nipples’ but wont let me in. I can’t even get close, I’d stand no chance against that army of nuts, armed with swords and guns and the ability to conjure up more combined power than any ‘Care Bear’ collective or group of Planeteers!!! But like a moth I have seen the light, an idea has hit me like a school bully. I know what needs to be done.
A monologue starts to form in my head. I check my reflection in my phone, run a comb through my hair and orally abuse a stick of gum. I am ready, like when the red spot disappears on a Tefal pan……no? ok I got a better one……I’m ready, like my waters has broken. I take a deep breath and hold it tightly, as if I had stolen it from a museum. I quickly walk up to her revising my rehearsed dialogue in my head. She sees me approaching, smiles, and thrusts the tray of sample nuts in my face. OH NO!! BACK EVIL MINIONS!!! The nuts look at me seductively. ‘You know you want us’ I hear them say, ‘You think that men’s magazine is successful because of the topless models and witty articles? Think again’ they continue. The girl looks confused by the terrified face I’m making. “Want to try one?” she asks, in a voice more heavenly than a harp symphony played by virgin doves. She further extends the tray to me while one of the nuts winks and slaps its ass. I take a step back. ‘Here goes’ I say to myself…then have a little giggle as I envision a bald guy crying……WHAT D’YOU MEAN I CAN’T GIGGLE!!? MEN CAN GIGGLE!! DON’T BE SEXIST!! “Ok so here’s the deal…” I start. “…I’m afraid I’m going to have to be very direct with you, I saw you and I know I would have kicked myself all day if I didn’t say hi to you, so hi, my names Daniel…or you can call me Afro…and you arreee?”. “Lindsey” she replies, very dubiously. “Lindsey, nice to meet you, I would have loved to have a proper conversation instead of being so brief and forward but I gotta go because I am extremely allergic to nuts and as beautiful as you are, I’d rather not die in front of you…… but, could I maybe get your number?”. I see a cashew start laughing while a walnut face palms. Lindsey examines the levity of my behaviour. I feel like a game show host waiting for an answer ‘I’m gonna have to rush you’ I want to say, as I feel the scent of peanut invading my nostrils. She continues to stand there with a half smile on her face. “How many guys would literally risk their lives for your number hmm” I say jokingly, but then realising I am somewhat of a hero. “You’re very sweet but…” she says before removing her left hand from under the tray and revealing a wedding ring that starts singing ‘If you like it then you shoulda put ME on it’. 'How could she go and get married before she met me' I think on the bus ride home."She must be nuts" I whisper, before releasing another very manly giggle.
Monday, 27 June 2011
Saturday, 28 May 2011
So I’m on my way to work, walking at a pace that will most likely make me late but enables a lovely bounce to my afro, because after all what good is hair if it doesn't bounce when you walk. I see a newsagent and decide gum must be purchased because my breath is less than pleasant…and by ‘less than pleasant’ I mean foul enough to make a baby bird cry. Oh little gum, sitting there on your shelf, minding your own business, in all your spearminty glory, totally unaware that today…is the day…that I shall pick you up…AND PURCHASE YOU!!! OUR EYES WILL MEET AND I’LL SMILE. I WILL POINT AT YOU, AND SAY “THAT ONE”, LIKE I’M ADOPTING A PUPPY FROM THE SHELTER. IT WILL BE GLORIOUS, AND WE SHALL TELL OUR KIDS THIS STORY……I then realise I have gone into a strange daydream and have walked past the shop (Note to self: Do not tell anyone about this strange daydream, people will think you’re weird). I take out my surf board and surf back to the shop……what!?……Why are you looking at me like that!?………OK FINE, I WALKED!! I’m trying to make this sound exciting here!! I WALKED back to the shop, picked up the gum that, like Halifax, promised to give me extra, and delicately put it on the counter. I then start fingering my jean pocket until it oozes out a pound coin, and place it next to the gum. The shop…erm……assistant? I dunno, what do you call a newsagent worker? The shoptician? shoptographer? shopodontist? shopsmith? Lets just call him the News Agent…hahahaha………sorry, gimme a sec…hahaha……ok ok I’m good…PFFFAHAHAHAHA NEWS AGENT!!! HAHAHAH………ok I’m done…please continue……oh sorry it was ME telling the story wasn't it……
…so the news agent looks at the items on the counter, then up at me, then back at the items. “Hello” he says gently. Hmmm he didn’t strike me as a Lionel Ritchie fan. “You work at the Nando’s yes??” he enquires with a flare of familiarity. “Yes, hey” I reply in a way that suggested I remembered him out of the hundreds I serve from week to week. He smiles. I smile back. He smiles more. I stop smiling. He keeps looking at me joyfully, as if reminiscing on some interaction we have previously engaged in. Like we had spent a romantic weekend in Paris or something. Had we? I’ve only been to France once, when I went Disneyland, but I’m almost positive he wasn’t there. Anyhow, this was getting a little uncomfortable so I push the pound further towards him and say “Just the gum please”. He picks up the pound and hands it back to me. “It’s ok” he says. “I come, I get the burger”. “oh……cool” I respond quite bedazzled. What does that mean, I wonder as I take my money back. Had I just agreed to something?? I don’t understand, I feel like a child who has sat on a radio when playing musical chairs. I look back at the news agent to see if his face revealed any more information to what had just happened. It didn’t. It simply offered a now slightly sinister smile, so I took the gum, thanked him and surfed out. A couple hours later I am at work serving a woman who is so beautiful I just want to frame her and hang her on my wall…………hang her like a photograph……not like a Victorian death sentence……that would be a strange thing to do to a woman you consider beautiful…plant some drugs on her and hang her on your wall like a mounted moose head. OUT OF NOWHERE in bursts the news agent……well I say out of nowhere but in hindsight he probably came from outside. As he walks in he spots me. I start to panic!! OH CRAP, what is he expecting!? Does he think I’m gonna give him a free burger!? Cause I can’t!! They’re £5.50!! and it’ll have to come from MY pocket…the money…not the burger…what kinda restaurant do you think this is!! A free pack of gum is not worth £5.50!! I could get 11 packs of gum with that money!! Maybe he is expecting another romantic trip to Paris!!………wait, did I just say ‘another’? I can’t go on a trip with this man!! He might touch me!! He might make me a candle lit dinner!! He might want to adopt a French speaking African kid!! AND I CAN’T SPEAK FRENCH!!! WHAT IS HE AFTER!!! I hate not knowing!! almost as much as I hate not knowing who Dr.Who is, he’s clearly the mid-section of a knock knock joke!! HATE IT!! Or like Samsung products!! its like some private joke that they just wont tell me, WHAT DID SAM SING!!!!????
The agent gets closer. ‘I CAN’T GIVE YOU A FREE BURGER!!’ I want to call out, but as though I had no reception, I couldn’t. I can’t give out free stuff, It’s stealing!! I’m a good guy, I ALWAYS stop eating when ‘Save The Children’ adverts come on, and I wait a WHOLE 30 seconds while the guilt wears off before I continue!! “Hello” he says ambiguously. “Hey” I reply as Lionel plays in my head. “I get the burger” he says. Oh God, how do I tell him I can’t give him a free burger!? He might make a scene! He might ask for his gum back!! He might say I stole the gum from his shop!! HE MIGHT TELL PEOPLE WE WENT ON A ROMANTIC WEEKEND TO DISNEYLAND!!! I then remember he wasn’t actually at Disneyland………although Minnie Mouse did have a similar voice hmmm. I look at him, studying his face like I had an exam on it coming up. We stand there looking at each other like two cowboys duelling, while tumbleweed drifts past us. I didn't even want free gum, I was perfectly happy paying for it!! Now I have to give him a free burger!?? …worth £5.50… or £6.75 if he wants a side!! He then makes a move, reaching into his pocket without breaking eye contact. Oh God!! What is he getting!! Money?? A TAPE WITH CCTV FOOTAGE OF ME WALKING OUT HIS SHOP WITHOUT PAYING!!?? TWO FIRST CLASS TICKETS TO FRANCE, WITH A HOTEL ROOM RESERVATION WITH ONE DOUBLE BED, AND A PICTURE OF KOJO, OUR SOON-TO-BE-FOSTERED CHILD!!!!?? A £10 note is placed on the counter. I smile. He smiles back. I smile some more. He stops smiling.
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
I love it when something good comes out of boredom. Its been a while since I p-p-p-picked up a penguin…I mean pencil, so I thought Id do just that…I also had a penguin It took 4 hours, 2 litres of orange juice, 2 toilet breaks, and 1 fifteen minute break shuffling in front of the mirror. Oh I do apologize I haven’t introduced you…this is Lauren…*whispers* I think she likes you
Sunday, 15 May 2011
So I’m spending time at my mum’s house and hunger hits me like I had an affair with his wife……stupid hunger, he’s just feeling self conscious about his manhood coz I took his wife out for dinner and afterward she couldn’t feel him…(see what I did there :D I’m well smart, I got a C+ for GCSE English, that’s right, C PLUS!!) Anyway, I’m hungry, and what with all my mum’s royal wedding decorations still around the house, I decide to do my country proud and indulge in some good ol’ fashion fish and chips. Without haste I pop my shoes on and do a running giant leap out the front door, as dramatically as possible. Full of enthusiasm and life, NOTHING CAN HOLD ME BACK!!………then I quickly run back inside and grab my wallet………BUT I LEAP OUT AGAIN!! STILL WITH ENTHUSIASM…AND LIFE!! MY ARMS HELD OUT LIKE AN EAGLE!! WITH WIND BENEATH MY WINGS!!!………then I sigh and run back in once more for my phone……THEN!!!..after checking I had everything…I RUN TO THE DOOR FULL OF ENTHUSIASM AND LIFE!!! and walk out, slightly out of breath, as the neighbours look on with worry in their eyes. As I walk up the hill to the chip shop I get a text from my brother asking me to bring him back something to eat. I text back ‘Is it possible to have bad breath if you run out of breath?’.
I soon reach the chip shop. I have never been in here before but its called ‘Fish n Chips’ so I assume they sell what I require. I order two lots of fish and chips to a man who I presume works there because he was on the other side of the counter…that and he said “Hi, what can I get you?”. He fiddles about, doing what he needs to do, I didn’t pay attention but I gather its the usual routine, casting a line in the fish tank while throwing some potatoes in the air and samurai slicing them into chip shapes before they fall into the fryer. Standard fish and chips practice. “You live around here?” the man asks. “No, just in the area visiting my mum” I reply as I hand him the money. He whacks the first load of chips on the wrapping paper. “Any salt or vinegar?” he asks. I consider his question for a few seconds……then come to the conclusion that seeing as I always have salt and vinegar I should probably say yes. I throw a thumbs-up at him…then say “Yes both please” in case he thinks I’m trying to hitchhike a ride somewhere. He sprinkles some salt and splashes some vinegar……on my chips……not around his shop……then throws in some cod and quickly wraps it up like someone getting evil looks coz they’re taking too long with an acceptance speech. Then the man, who I shall call Yuseff, coz despite his good fishing skills he’s far from “The Man”…whacks a second lot of chips on the wrapping paper but immediately throws in the cod and begins wrapping. “Salt and vinegar please” I say quickly. “No salt or vinegar” he says nodding his head, obviously agreeing to what he thinks I had said. “No no, salt and pepper” I say correctingly……GRRR GO AWAY SPELL CHECK!! I KNOW ITS NOT A PROPER WORD BUT THEY UNDERSTAND WHAT I MEAN!!……right guys!?……………guys?………PFFF WHATEVER!! WHERE’S YOUR C+ HUH!!? “yes, no salt or vinegar” Yuseff replies. “No, can I HAVE salt and vinegar!!” I say firmly. “No salt or vinegar” he says again. Hang on a second……is he trying to say there IS NO salt or vinegar!? Because clearly there is, and unless I am hallucinating right now, its still right there in front of me on the counter top!! Maybe I’m misunderstanding here, so I try again. “I’m sorry, can I get salt and vinegar on these chips too!!” I say as clearly as I can. “NO SALT NO VINEGAR!!” he yells back.
Whoa!! What’s going on here?? Is he being serious!? Is this a joke?? Am I not understanding his joke??……it doesn’t appear to be a funny joke!! My stomach is practically poking out my belly button, holding a kidney and shouting ‘EAT SOMETHING NOW OR I’M EATING YOU!!!’ and here’s some guy messing around with my food!! “There’s no salt or vinegar” he says again. “What do you mean!! you just put some on the other chips!! Its right there!!” I say pointing to the salt shaker and the more than half-full bottle of vinegar. I reach out to grab the salt but Yuseff grabs it first along with the vinegar and puts them both behind the counter. WHAT THE HELL!!? what’s going on here!? Am I missing something?? Is this how the chip trade operates now!? One sprinkle of salt per customer!!? He can’t be serious?? I look over at his serious face……“You live around here??” he asks again. SERIOUSLY!!!? ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW!! “WHAT’S THE PROBLEM, JUST PUT SOME SALT AND VINEGAR ON MY FREAKIN CHIPS!!” I yell. He just stands there unresponsive as I stare at him, slightly concerned I may have wet myself in anger. My belly rumbles angrily too. I’M NOT HAVING THIS!! ALL I WANT IS SOME BLOODY CHIPS WITH A DASH OF SALT AND A SPLOSH OF VINEGAR!!! CAN’T A MAN DO RIGHT BY HIS COUNTRY…AND HIS BELLY!! I BET PRINCE WILLIAM ISN’T HAVING THIS PROBLEM, I BET HE’S EATING A HEARTY MEAL OF FISH AND CHIPS WITH THE MISSUS!! I BET HE HAS A ROYAL GUARD HOLDING EXTRA SACHETS OF SALT AND VINEGAR JUST IN CASE!! AND HERE I AM, POSSIBLY WITH SOILED UNDERWEAR, GETTING DENIED FREAKIN SALT AND FREAKIN VINEGAR!!!! “LISTEN IM NOT LEAVING WITHOUT SALTY CHIPS!!!” I proclaim, quite stunned at the situation, but more so that I had shouted out ‘salty chips’. I return home with a pizza, I’m sooooo telling my mum
Friday, 15 April 2011
Monday, 7 March 2011
Sunday, 23 January 2011
Thursday, 20 January 2011
So I’m standing at a bus stop listening to ‘Glee’ songs and nodding my head softly like one of those nodding dog toys you see in car back windows. I seem to be miming the words too, against my will. Every time I realise and force myself to stop its like someone shows me a picture of my little brother tied to a gas tank with an unlit match in his mouth and whispers in my ear “start miming”, and there I am mouthing the words again!!……Mouthing the words!? hmm that sounds rather dirty. Anyway, so I’m expecting my bus at any minute when a small old lady approaches me. She seems to want to say something. Oh no, I haven't been singing out loud have I? She’s probably gonna tell me how she turned off her hearing aid and can still hear my sinfully bad singing. I give her eye contact to show her I’m aware she is there……and when I say eye contact I don't mean I poked her in the eye, I mean I looked her in the eye……oh you knew that already!? ok, well just making sure……I don't want you thinking I’m the type to poke everyone in the eye trying to establish eye contact!!……poking everyone in the eye!? hmm that sounds rather dirty. Anyway, the old lady reaches out and tugs on my arm as if she still needed to get my attention. I take out my earphones and say “hey” as if she was an old friend from college who just happened to age twice as fast as me and had developed a love for knitted cardigans. “Can you help me?” she asks in a low stumbly voice. ‘It depends what you want help with’ is what I want to say. I mean could you imagine I said ‘Of course, how may I help’ and she says ‘I need someone to scrub that bit of my back just above my butt cheeks, my arm doesn't bend that way anymore’. “Yea” I reply hesitantly wondering if she would take offence to me scrubbing her back in one of those yellow, anti-contamination suits. “Can you help me cross the road?”. ‘Cross the road!??………awww’ I think to myself. I didn't actually think this was a real thing!! I didn't think old ladies actually ask people to help them across the road. I thought it was something young guys do to feel better about stealing their grandmothers credit cards when they were younger!!
Here is my chance to do something good for someone. So now when I say “I do good things all the time” I have at least one thing to back it up with. “Of course” I say with a smile. “I’m slightly blind you see” she says, and I hadn’t……seen, which I found rather ironic. Great, this is even better!! I’m gonna help an old lady across the road PLUS SHES BLIND!!! I’m gonna get major karma points for this!! Now, how do I go about this? Do I sling her over my back like a caveman fuelled with testosterone or lock elbows and skip down the road like the kids on ‘Little House On The Prairie’. But with a hint of impatience she grabs my hand and walks on, dragging me with her. Well this feels slightly uncomfortable I think to myself. Her hands are insanely soft, I feel like I’m holing a ragdolls hand, that has been soaked in fabric softener and washed in a washing machine made of feathers!! I grasp it a little tighter but then ease off immediately as I catch our reflection in a car. We reach the side of the road and as I step into it to cross over the old lady pulls me back and yells “WAIT” in a rather hostile tone………“ok………sorry” I say quickly, completely baffled by the outburst. I look up and down the road, nothing. I try again and step into the road. “WAIT!!” She shouts again. “Yes ma’am”………MA’AM!? Since when do I say MA’AM!! I look up and down the road again, it’s still unbelievably clear, like the faces of people in ‘Clearasil’ adverts. “It’s clear Mrs” Mrs!? What am I back at school now!? She remains still, scrutinising the road like a speed camera who is trying to get promoted. “Shall we go?” I ask, as if I was the one who needed help across the road. She mumbles something and starts dragging me into the road. As we reach halfway I realise she is swinging her arms…no……she is swinging OUR ARMS!!
Man this looks bad!! We look like one of them old couples you see and think ‘awww how cute are they, so clearly in love after all these years’. Why would she swing our arms!! Its not like she is Jennifer Lopez walking down a catwalk, using her arms to swing extra UMPH into her walking!! She doesn't need to put her hips into anything, she doesn't have a big bottom to maneuver!! ………For reasons unknown to me I actually turn around and check this was actually the case……it was……she didn’t have a big bottom. I cringe at the thought of what I had done. We reach the other side of the road and she turns to me and says “You must always look both ways before you cross the road, ok?”. As if this was my first time crossing a road!! “Er……yes Mrs” I reply. She reaches into her pocket, hands me 50p, and does one of those ‘Don’t spend it all at once’ winks……at least I think it was a wink. She is very old, It may have just been a twitch. I feel very proud of my accomplishment. I had helped a slightly blind, old lady across the road, and even earned 50p!! I could make a living out of this!! Walking old ladies across roads, I bet there is a large market for that!! As I stand there admiring my 50p the old lady asks where she can catch the 96 bus to Bluewater from. I walk her back across the road to my bus stop.
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
So I’m at work……yes again, I know!! Apparently it’s not just a one time thing, but they don't tell you that at the interview!! Anyway I’m there polishing cutlery, in a cutlery polishing machine because for some reason using your t-shirt is frowned upon. I have a tune in my head and I’ll be damned if I let the negative comments about my singing voice deter me from belting it out. Everyone told Wagner he couldn’t sing and look at him now……WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE DIDNT WIN!!! Anyway I wanna sing, so like a forceful fart in a man made of paper mache I let it rip. “When I see your faaace, There’s not a thing that I would change, Cause you’re amazing, Just the way you are!!” I hear a glass break and shatter. “That’s a bit dramatic” I whisper to myself. “My singing’s not THAT bad”. Then another glass smashes so I shut up in case the building collapses on top of me………BUT NO!! This tune needs to be sung, and so I continue. “And when you smiiiiiile, The whole world stops and stares for a while, Cause you’re amazing, Just the way you are!!”. Suddenly I find myself lost for words like I had become really bad at word searches. Erm……damn, what’s the words!? As I try to recall them I throw some knives into the machine, feeling a little guilty because machines have feelings too. I still cant find the words despite all the training I’ve had playing hide n Seek as a kid. The tune is still buzzing around in my head like a bee had got lost in my afro, so I do what everyone does when they forget the words to songs. I repeat the chorus. “When I see your faaaaace…”. All of a sudden a colleague squashes himself into the walk-in cupboard where the cutlery machine is located……hmmm maybe I shouldn’t have said that, cutlery polishing machines are in high demand amongst thieves these days. Anyway this dude comes in and to save any potential repercussions let’s just call him Joel…CRAP!! I MEAN NOEL!! HIS NAME IS NOEL!! ACTUALLY IT’S NOT EVEN THAT…IT’S CLINT!!! HIS NAME IS CLINT!!! I DON’T KNOW WHY IM SHOUTING IN THIS HIGH PITCH, IM NOT LYING!! IT’S CLINT!!!…………So anyway Joe--lint comes in and upon hearing my beautiful voice decides to sing a tune of his own. “Our house!! In the middle of our street, Our House…” he unleashes with a boastful presence. BUT NO!! I think to myself. I was here first, this cupboard is mine to fill with harmonious melodies. Sure last time I sang happy birthday for my little cousin he launched himself head first into his cake, but despite what my uncle said it WASN’T MY FAULT!!
I complete my chorus at a raised level ensuring my voice is heard above Clint and the pack of crying dogs outside. I come to the end of my chorus but Clint is still going strong!! Singing with conviction and plausibility, I start to think that maybe his house really IS in the middle of his street!! But no, I cant stand here and admire my competition, this is my turf!! I turn to a wall to pee on it and mark my territory but then decide against it!! Dammit this is WAR!! I hold up a knife like it’s a worrier’s sword and clasp a spoon tightly, for a worrier is only as strong as his shield……well something like that, I need to watch ‘300’ again. I clear my throat, take a deep breath, and……………NOTHING!!………I still cant remember the bloody words!! I cant sing the chorus again, he’ll know I’ve forgotten the words. You can’t show weakness in front of thy enemy. Man, I haven’t had this much trouble remembering words since I forgot those excessively difficult spells and got kicked out of Hogwarts. Then something comes to me……”her eyes, her eyes…” then nothing. WHAT COMES NEXT!!! This is even worse, I’ve started a verse!! There is no turning back now!! That’s like James Cameron saying “I know I’ve spent millions of your money but I’ve forgotten the plot to ‘Avatar’ so I'm not gonna make it after all……err, sorry”. Clint is still singing, I have to do SOMETHING!! and so I take another deep breath, I know what needs to be done. Something brave. Something heroic. Something EPIC!! …despite these positive adjectives I sadly and quietly proceed to hum the rest of my song
Wednesday, 1 December 2010
Tuesday, 2 November 2010
So recently a customer asked to touch my afro. Now this isn’t a rare occurrence. People ask this all the time, like I’ve cellotaped an iPod Touch to the top of my head or something. But this time, Alisa, a friend from work………you know Alisa don’t you?………no?……ok, nevermind………she’s a friend from work……no you cant have her number!! Anyway, she said I should write a blog about it. Now that particular time was fairly uneventful but it did remind me of another time when my hair was caressed like a borrowed Barbie doll by a 10 year old boy who has just seen a tape labelled ‘Boring Stuff’ that his dad keeps hidden away under his bed……man that was a long sentence!! So have a seat on my lap as I tell you the story of when……actually erm, can you get off my lap………it just feels a little weird……y’know you’re far too old to be sitting on my lap like that……its just a bit inappropriate……thanks……appreciate it……ok, so…
…There I am sitting in Starbucks as I try to drive a steak through the heart of ‘Procrastination’ and actually finish writing a blog……hang on, that’s not right! ‘Drive a steak through!!?’ I meant ‘stake’ hahaha, silly me, can you imagine me with a slab of beef waving it around like a fleeting vegetarian who has relapsed and is celebrating his return to meat in a somewhat psychotic manner. Anyway I’m rambling. I’m in Starbucks trying to write when a beastly man approaches me, I’m talking a baby elephant on steroids!! He literally blocked out the sun!! Either that or the sun briefly disappeared behind some clouds but dammit I’m trying to make a point here. The dude was HUGE!! My face of concentration soon changes to a face of fear. What had I done to attract the attention of this roman gladiator…again, I’m not being literal, he didn't have a spear & shield or one of those helmets with a brush on top. However he did have biceps the size of rugby balls and abs carved from granite……I couldn’t actually see any abs but I could not imagine him with anything less than a 10 pack!! It probably looks like the bottom side of a really large ice cube tray!! “Hey my daughter really wants to touch your hair” the man says in a deep ruffled voice. My eyes dart around and there behold, emerges the smallest girl from behind the man. “Yea sure” I timidly reply. I lean forward and nestle my afro into her advancing hand where she proceeds to give it a feel. Well what a relief, I think to myself. Just another girl who wants to feel my hair. But then things change on the account of the following sentence. “Dad its so soft, feel it!!”.
My eyes widen and there is a loud thud as my jaw hits the table. Surely he’s not gonna… “D’you mind mate?” DAMMIT!! I DO mind I feel a tear developing in my eye. It’ll be like getting a head massage from King Kong!! I don't trust him, what if he rips a chunk out!! ‘Afro Dan the bald patch man’ just doesn't have the same ring to it!! But how do I tell him no? He’s like a sleeping giant and I certainly do not want to be his alarm clock!! I man-up and boldly say “Go for it mate”, and boy does he!! His hand is so big I’m pretty sure his thumb and middle finger was touching both of my ears. ‘Just a little longer’ I keep telling myself, but it was a lie. He kept his hand there!! How long does it take to feel my hair!! Was he just resting there using my head as a leaning post!? I’m in freaking Starbucks, where there are loads of freaking people around looking as I get leaned on by the freaking Incredible Hulk!! This looks so wrong, hell, this IS so wrong, this is like half the pages in my GCSE maths book!! But how do I get him off!? What’s the safety word those S&M enthusiasts use!!? I shuffle about in attempts to loosen the grip but to no avail…….and so I just sit there as my afro is violated, and continue to write. Hmm thinking back, I should have offered him Alisa’s number……you know Alisa don’t you?……no?……alright!! keep your hair on!!
Tuesday, 19 October 2010
Monday, 18 October 2010
So you know what I was thinking about the other day? no? ‘Worlds Greatest Psychic’ my ass!! Anyway, I was thinking about Pandas……… ok, I’m lying, my friend Abi told me to write about Pandas. I’m not entirely sure why? Perhaps her iPod is being held captive to an angry Panda who wants her to spread Panda awareness……IT COULD HAPPEN!!! To be honest I think Abi is a panda dressed in the finest Philippian human skin. I’ve always suspected it, and it would definitely explain why she was eating that leaf the other day…………or was it a sandwich?? My memory is a little foggy. Its a shame there isn't more pandas in the world though. I don’t think I have ever actually seen one. I mean I’ve seen them on TV but I heard you should never trust the media. I mean, what if they don't even look like that!! What if they’re actually green with stripes!! For all we know a reporter just happened to catch one coming back from a fancy dress party and claimed they are all like that!!
Not that I have a problem with the way they look, they’re mad cute, I would definitely like to have one as a pet . Cat’s and dog’s are so cliché these days, they’re everywhere!! Apparently they even fall from the sky when it rains although I’ve never seen it myself. How cool would it be to bring your friends around your house and say “Oh him? that’s just Timmy my pet panda” and walk away all nonchalant like as though you don’t realise how cool having a pet panda is. I wonder if I’d have to take him for walks? Probably not, I imagine he’d just stay slouched on the sofa watching recordings of ‘loose women’ hoping its one of those programs that does what it says on the tin.
Abi says they look like they have two black eyes but I disagree. I think they look like they’re wearing sunglasses. Morpheus type ones that stick to their faces……hmmm perhaps they’re doing what Paris Hilton does, wearing the sunglasses to hide their black eyes!! I heard a rumour that one was on the loose in London!! Could you imagine him on the tube wearing a long khaki trench coat, harry potter glasses, and a dark black hat with holes in it for the ears to pop through. Just sitting there all casually while he reads his Metro, sighing over an article on how iPods are being taken ransom across the country by disregarded pandas. Pfff a panda on the loose, yea right, what a load of nonsense……now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got errands to run………anyone know where I can buy bamboo shoots??………oops……i mean……brand…new……boots