2 years ago today a truly beautiful soul was taken from us by a selfish bitch with no regard for human life.
My friend Wayne was the most caring, honest and friendly person you could ever hope to meet and I miss him every single day.
He always was and he always will be a source of inspiration to me and each time I come across someone who treats me badly or hurts me or one of my friends I'm always left with the same thought "why couldn't it have been you? Why did such a beautiful soul have to go and leave you here if you're not going to help make the world a better place?"
This probably makes me a horrible person to wonder such a thing as no one should wish another person dead right? But how can one person, a person who once chased a bus to give a stranger back their wallet they had left, how can that person be the right one to take and leave so many evil souls behind? I don't get it.
For all of us who knew Wayne, we're the lucky ones. We get to carry his memory with us always and remember the infectious laugh and random sayings. I feel sorry for anyone who never met him, your life will never be as bright as mine and even though the candle is gone, the light will always shine forever in our hearts.
On this day and every day in fact I miss you and at the risk of sounding like a bad celine dion song: I will always love you, you smelly hippy.
For my friend
Wayne Moores.
Xx
Monday, September 17, 2012
Friday, September 14, 2012
Gotta love the cheese!
So those of you that know me know that I love my cheese. It's just a statement of fact like saying that all politicians are soulless thieves or that the bible was a series of bedtime stories written to keep the minds of impressionable children in line and in their place. So when my friend (let's call him roger) suggested we go to a real west country cheese festival you can imagine that I was as excited as Gary glitter at a nativity play.
Oh, and just so you know, I changed the names of the people in this because I didn't ask their permission but most of this actually did happen apart from the bits I like to fabricate for dramatic effect. It's my blog, I'll do what I like!
Anyway, I'd arranged to get a lift with another friend (let's call her Rachel) the night before so that we could all get up nice and early to give us maximum cheese festivaling opportunity. We should have known that as soon as we stopped in tescos for a few nibbles and came out with a couple of bottles of vodka, some cider and three bottles of pink wine that we were heading for trouble.
So we get to rogers house who is by now bouncing off the walls because we're late and the drinking commences. Now, I'm not going to go into everything that happened that night for the main reason that some members of my family actually read this (knew I should have made this anonymous!) but suffice to say we're all that little bit closer now and the birds were starting to sing by the time we all collapsed into bed.
Now seeing as one of rogers friends had said that he would come and pick us up to go to the cheese festival, we had to be out of bed by 10am and ready by 11. This is not a problem for roger who is like road runner on speed but Rachel and I sleep on unaware of rogers preparations.
At around roughly 10.30, I am nudged gently awake by a metallic feeling somewhere between my eyes and the tip of my nose so one eye flips lazily open while the other tries to remain in the land of nod for just a bit longer. The first eye can't really compute what it's seeing so elbows the second eye into consciousness whilst frog marching brain into gear as it appears that I am staring into the yawning maw of a double barrelled shotgun. This is the reason I am telling you this story, the cheese was just a ruse for this is the first and hopefully only time I will be awakened in this way.
As the sleep clears from my eyes and brain, I follow the line of sight up the gun where roger is stood, beaming from ear to ear, fag dangling from the corner of his mouth (for the American readers I do mean a hand rolled cigarette not a small gay man although that may give a certain visual something to the story), wearing a deep pocketed green wax Barbour jacket over the tiniest pair of underpants with a fur lined deer hunter hat complete with moose horns on his head.
"D'ya think I'll fit in?" he asks removing the gun from my face and drawing in on his fag, "or should I wear a smock?"
Now I know I said that I do sometimes fabricate for dramatic effect but that actually did happen and is pretty much the reason for the whole blog post but if you really want to know about the cheese festival well, it was alright. The sun was shining, there was cheese, there was cider with the obligatory small fly and pieces of grass floating around in the bottom of the glass, there were bales of hay and a punch and judy. Can't go wrong with that now can you?
Oh and roger didn't wear his gun toting country bumpkin outfit or his smock thankfully as judging by the rest of the festival goers he would have stood out like a sore thumb.
Oh, and just so you know, I changed the names of the people in this because I didn't ask their permission but most of this actually did happen apart from the bits I like to fabricate for dramatic effect. It's my blog, I'll do what I like!
Anyway, I'd arranged to get a lift with another friend (let's call her Rachel) the night before so that we could all get up nice and early to give us maximum cheese festivaling opportunity. We should have known that as soon as we stopped in tescos for a few nibbles and came out with a couple of bottles of vodka, some cider and three bottles of pink wine that we were heading for trouble.
So we get to rogers house who is by now bouncing off the walls because we're late and the drinking commences. Now, I'm not going to go into everything that happened that night for the main reason that some members of my family actually read this (knew I should have made this anonymous!) but suffice to say we're all that little bit closer now and the birds were starting to sing by the time we all collapsed into bed.
Now seeing as one of rogers friends had said that he would come and pick us up to go to the cheese festival, we had to be out of bed by 10am and ready by 11. This is not a problem for roger who is like road runner on speed but Rachel and I sleep on unaware of rogers preparations.
At around roughly 10.30, I am nudged gently awake by a metallic feeling somewhere between my eyes and the tip of my nose so one eye flips lazily open while the other tries to remain in the land of nod for just a bit longer. The first eye can't really compute what it's seeing so elbows the second eye into consciousness whilst frog marching brain into gear as it appears that I am staring into the yawning maw of a double barrelled shotgun. This is the reason I am telling you this story, the cheese was just a ruse for this is the first and hopefully only time I will be awakened in this way.
As the sleep clears from my eyes and brain, I follow the line of sight up the gun where roger is stood, beaming from ear to ear, fag dangling from the corner of his mouth (for the American readers I do mean a hand rolled cigarette not a small gay man although that may give a certain visual something to the story), wearing a deep pocketed green wax Barbour jacket over the tiniest pair of underpants with a fur lined deer hunter hat complete with moose horns on his head.
"D'ya think I'll fit in?" he asks removing the gun from my face and drawing in on his fag, "or should I wear a smock?"
Now I know I said that I do sometimes fabricate for dramatic effect but that actually did happen and is pretty much the reason for the whole blog post but if you really want to know about the cheese festival well, it was alright. The sun was shining, there was cheese, there was cider with the obligatory small fly and pieces of grass floating around in the bottom of the glass, there were bales of hay and a punch and judy. Can't go wrong with that now can you?
Oh and roger didn't wear his gun toting country bumpkin outfit or his smock thankfully as judging by the rest of the festival goers he would have stood out like a sore thumb.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
You're not going to like this one....
Ok I realise that I'm a shit blogger who only pops up when I have something controversial to say or when something so hideous happens in my life that it would be rude not to turn it into a funny story even though I'm weeping on the inside but it's my blog so I'll do what I like.
I'm actually doing the controversial thing right now over the hoo ha on Facebook over the page called 'dead baby jokes' or whatever it's called and I just wanted to say to all those people ranting over how sick it is or posting links to petitions "are you freaking insane?"
You're the type of people who watch something disturbing on tv then write to watchdog claiming to be disgusted about what you've just watched when in reality all you had to do was turn the tv off/over. You don't even have to get off your arse to do that unless some inconsiderate person has moved the remote more than six inches from your finger tips or (horror of horrors) the batteries have died. You could even (and this is a radical suggestion) go outside and do something else; read a book, learn to juggle, talk to another human being....just a thought.
From what I gather the page exists so that people can post sick jokes. That is all. They're not advocating infanticide or pedophilia or any other such nonsense they're just posting dubious (albeit quite unfunny) jokes but you know what...? You don't have to visit the sites. You can block it from your newsfeed.
We live in a country that by and large allows freedom of speech, thought and to a certain degree acts. By signing this petition you are trying to take away that freedom just because it's not to your taste. Where does it end? Are you going to join the act to 'cure' gays? No. Yes this page is sick and yes it's not to my taste but neither is asparagus and I'm not petitioning to have that banned.
I'll tell you what I'm focusing my energies on. On the people who cause actual harm to others on our planet. How about boycotting Japanese products until they stop needlessly slaughtering whales in the name of science? How about finding out if your makeup is really animal friendly or if you're actually unwittingly helping torture thousands of animals in the name of beauty. How about using some of your time to write to governments guilty of human rights violations and helping to make a difference to a persons life instead of jumping on the bandwagon and drawing attention to a small group of people who were starved of attention as children and get their kicks from making the masses go *gasp* "they're saying bad words!".
Seriously?
I'm actually doing the controversial thing right now over the hoo ha on Facebook over the page called 'dead baby jokes' or whatever it's called and I just wanted to say to all those people ranting over how sick it is or posting links to petitions "are you freaking insane?"
You're the type of people who watch something disturbing on tv then write to watchdog claiming to be disgusted about what you've just watched when in reality all you had to do was turn the tv off/over. You don't even have to get off your arse to do that unless some inconsiderate person has moved the remote more than six inches from your finger tips or (horror of horrors) the batteries have died. You could even (and this is a radical suggestion) go outside and do something else; read a book, learn to juggle, talk to another human being....just a thought.
From what I gather the page exists so that people can post sick jokes. That is all. They're not advocating infanticide or pedophilia or any other such nonsense they're just posting dubious (albeit quite unfunny) jokes but you know what...? You don't have to visit the sites. You can block it from your newsfeed.
We live in a country that by and large allows freedom of speech, thought and to a certain degree acts. By signing this petition you are trying to take away that freedom just because it's not to your taste. Where does it end? Are you going to join the act to 'cure' gays? No. Yes this page is sick and yes it's not to my taste but neither is asparagus and I'm not petitioning to have that banned.
I'll tell you what I'm focusing my energies on. On the people who cause actual harm to others on our planet. How about boycotting Japanese products until they stop needlessly slaughtering whales in the name of science? How about finding out if your makeup is really animal friendly or if you're actually unwittingly helping torture thousands of animals in the name of beauty. How about using some of your time to write to governments guilty of human rights violations and helping to make a difference to a persons life instead of jumping on the bandwagon and drawing attention to a small group of people who were starved of attention as children and get their kicks from making the masses go *gasp* "they're saying bad words!".
Seriously?
Monday, April 30, 2012
A poem what I wrote
This is a poem that I wrote at a workshop where we wrote thoughts down on pieces of paper and picked them out of a hat and then wrote what came to us from the pieces.
Cheating hearts.
A receipt from a present never received
A ghost of feelings once perceived
To fill the void of an empty heart
A walk by the sea,a good place to start.
To walk, to see, beside the sea
The savage landscape, a barren scene.
A piece of mind from howling winds
The empty presence serenity brings.
A canvas, blank. A wordless book.
A fresh page to fill. A touch. A look.
A cat who walks all by himself
An empty vase on a cluttered shelf.
The scenes that crowd an empty thought.
The flowers and the chocolate bought.
The late night calls, work overtime
Tells me you're no longer mine.
The silence at the end of the phone
The way you take the long way home
The dinners that are in the dog
Images crowd through the fog
Of skin on skin and whispered rhymes
A scene that is no longer mine.
Sunlight streams onto an empty bed
The tangled sheets of all we shared
The wedding band now shackled on
Empty soul, the love long gone.
X
Cheating hearts.
A receipt from a present never received
A ghost of feelings once perceived
To fill the void of an empty heart
A walk by the sea,a good place to start.
To walk, to see, beside the sea
The savage landscape, a barren scene.
A piece of mind from howling winds
The empty presence serenity brings.
A canvas, blank. A wordless book.
A fresh page to fill. A touch. A look.
A cat who walks all by himself
An empty vase on a cluttered shelf.
The scenes that crowd an empty thought.
The flowers and the chocolate bought.
The late night calls, work overtime
Tells me you're no longer mine.
The silence at the end of the phone
The way you take the long way home
The dinners that are in the dog
Images crowd through the fog
Of skin on skin and whispered rhymes
A scene that is no longer mine.
Sunlight streams onto an empty bed
The tangled sheets of all we shared
The wedding band now shackled on
Empty soul, the love long gone.
X
Friday, April 13, 2012
I really am such a bad blogger! Ages since I last wrote anything. You must be feeling very neglected. Sorry about that.
Well, in case you're interested I have made some fairly drastic life changes recently. I moved back to Southampton and am busy building my menagerie with new housemate (more on him later), I'm preparing for the regional final of the live and unsigned competition mainly by pretending that it's all a dream and that it's happening to someone else otherwise I may just have a freak out. Sing in front of over a hundred people. Good god I must be mad.
I've also been accepted to university to do a degree in comedy writing and performance although since being told that my writing is funny by a college professor I've found that I can't write anything! Not a thing. As soon as I try and put pen to paper to write a song or a blog post my mind starts with it's bloody annoying negativity. None of it is very funny. Or maybe it's because I've stopped being a drunken fool and meeting random weirdos? No that can't be it, I still meet random weirdos except that now they're my friends.
Sigh.
See, boring.
I can't even come up with any lists of things I hate or that annoy me. It's like apathy has sunken into my bones and I can't string a coherent sentence together. Maybe this is what it's like to be thick? Maybe I should give up, start wearing pink tracksuit bottoms with juicy or whatever slogan they use nowadays on the arse and start chain smoking? Next stop Jeremy Kyle! Please help, I'm turning into everyone else. Now there's a show that would have everyone reaching for the remote in droves. Turn this shit off, it's not sensational enough they would cry and then log on to watchdog to complain.
I've never understood that.
"Dear Ann Robinson
Loved you on the Weakest link, bit nasty sometimes though eh? It's nice to be nice and all that. Anyway, I'm writing to complain about the storyline on generic soap opera last week when hot guy one snogged hot guy two. It's not the homosexuality I mind per se (I don't think the complainer would spell that right but I can't bring myself to do it) it's just that the denim jacket he was wearing clashed hideously with the armchair fabric and I feel that that's something the producers should have thought about before they aired the episode at tea time. Proper put me off my pie and chips that did. (I know you're all reading this in a Yorkshire accent now!) I would have turned over but Hollyoaks was on the other side and I would have been upset by the complete lack of reality in that programme so decided to make the best of a bad situation and anyway, the remote was sticky because the cat spilled cat milk on it and I have slight OCD and can't touch anything dirty. Shame cos Katie Price looks fantastic.
Anyway, please pass my disgust on to the producers and hopefully I'll be able to eat my tea without retching at the questionable attire of the shows characters.
Yours,
Disgruntled Viewer.
Oh dear, look at the trash my brain is churning out.
I might give it all up and go and work in tescos (other supermarket chains are available and equally as soul destroying)
Well, in case you're interested I have made some fairly drastic life changes recently. I moved back to Southampton and am busy building my menagerie with new housemate (more on him later), I'm preparing for the regional final of the live and unsigned competition mainly by pretending that it's all a dream and that it's happening to someone else otherwise I may just have a freak out. Sing in front of over a hundred people. Good god I must be mad.
I've also been accepted to university to do a degree in comedy writing and performance although since being told that my writing is funny by a college professor I've found that I can't write anything! Not a thing. As soon as I try and put pen to paper to write a song or a blog post my mind starts with it's bloody annoying negativity. None of it is very funny. Or maybe it's because I've stopped being a drunken fool and meeting random weirdos? No that can't be it, I still meet random weirdos except that now they're my friends.
Sigh.
See, boring.
I can't even come up with any lists of things I hate or that annoy me. It's like apathy has sunken into my bones and I can't string a coherent sentence together. Maybe this is what it's like to be thick? Maybe I should give up, start wearing pink tracksuit bottoms with juicy or whatever slogan they use nowadays on the arse and start chain smoking? Next stop Jeremy Kyle! Please help, I'm turning into everyone else. Now there's a show that would have everyone reaching for the remote in droves. Turn this shit off, it's not sensational enough they would cry and then log on to watchdog to complain.
I've never understood that.
"Dear Ann Robinson
Loved you on the Weakest link, bit nasty sometimes though eh? It's nice to be nice and all that. Anyway, I'm writing to complain about the storyline on generic soap opera last week when hot guy one snogged hot guy two. It's not the homosexuality I mind per se (I don't think the complainer would spell that right but I can't bring myself to do it) it's just that the denim jacket he was wearing clashed hideously with the armchair fabric and I feel that that's something the producers should have thought about before they aired the episode at tea time. Proper put me off my pie and chips that did. (I know you're all reading this in a Yorkshire accent now!) I would have turned over but Hollyoaks was on the other side and I would have been upset by the complete lack of reality in that programme so decided to make the best of a bad situation and anyway, the remote was sticky because the cat spilled cat milk on it and I have slight OCD and can't touch anything dirty. Shame cos Katie Price looks fantastic.
Anyway, please pass my disgust on to the producers and hopefully I'll be able to eat my tea without retching at the questionable attire of the shows characters.
Yours,
Disgruntled Viewer.
Oh dear, look at the trash my brain is churning out.
I might give it all up and go and work in tescos (other supermarket chains are available and equally as soul destroying)
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
In case you were wondering...
Ok, so I've realised that I've not updated you all about my raw food experience since my little paddy a few weeks back.
After meeting with MT and having a raw food prep session and really listening to what she had to say, I've got to admit it all just made sense. That's not to say that it's easy to stick to! You do have to be super organised which I am not! And you do have to have tremendous will power and anyone who knows me knows that I have the will power of a wet napkin! However, one piece of advice she gave me and one that I'm trying to stick to is that if you put the good stuff in, eventually you won't crave all the bad stuff anyway. And it's actually a philosophy that I'm now trying to apply to the whole of my life. Let the good things in and the bad stuff will simply fade out and truth be told, it seems to be working so far.
I'm not going to lie, I have slipped up and had the occasional fast food fix but nowadays I can really feel the effects it has on me! Sluggish, lethargic, moody and irritable are just a few things that I feel after eating processed crap and you have to ask yourself "why do I do it?"
I'll tell you why, habit. Convenience. It's that simple. Rushing around and not eating for hours and then the thought hits you that you're actually quite hungry and if you don't eat something in the next five minutes the next person you come across will lose a finger if they stick it too close to your mouth. So you grab the first thing that comes to hand which is usually sugary, fatty, carb laden fake food which has been processed so much that you mistake it for delicious goodness and then the cycle begins all over again because you've filled the gap, you're not hungry when the next meal time comes around and so on and so forth.
There will be some people mocking this idea. I know. I was one of them. I totally bought in to the idea that we've been eating meat and drinking milk etc for so long and we're always being told that it's good for us but it's not until you cut that shit out that you realise just how untrue that is. Like MT says: just because you can, doesn't mean you should. It's like alcohol. We all like a drink and even if you don't turn into a psychotic axe wielding maniac after a few beers doesn't mean that in the long run its good for you. Yes you can have a drink with no real short term effects except that the hangovers get worse as you get older. Guess what? That's your body saying: I don't like this! Stop it now please!
A few years ago I was diagnosed with depression (now there's a revelation) and I was told that I had to eat healthily and get more exercise etc etc. Fine, I did that and yes started to feel better but still not really 100%
And then I had a wake up call (those who know me know what it was) and once I had gotten my head round that's turned thirty (another wake up call!) and thought "what am I doing?"
Thirty years old and still miserable, feeling sorry for myself. You know what, enough of the pity party, you want life to change, you have to change. So I jacked in my job, got the dreds I had always wanted and looked into the raw food thing in more detail. It did begin as an idea for an article but has ended up making a massive difference to my life!
I know people don't get it or don't want to get it but you have to get to these things in your own time and change what needs to be changed when it needs to be changed in your own time so I'll just carry on marching to my own tune. Something I wish I'd done a long time ago. And I don't want people to think that this is a preachy "do as I tell you" piece of writing. I just like to write it down to make sense of it in my own head.
Fucking hippy.
After meeting with MT and having a raw food prep session and really listening to what she had to say, I've got to admit it all just made sense. That's not to say that it's easy to stick to! You do have to be super organised which I am not! And you do have to have tremendous will power and anyone who knows me knows that I have the will power of a wet napkin! However, one piece of advice she gave me and one that I'm trying to stick to is that if you put the good stuff in, eventually you won't crave all the bad stuff anyway. And it's actually a philosophy that I'm now trying to apply to the whole of my life. Let the good things in and the bad stuff will simply fade out and truth be told, it seems to be working so far.
I'm not going to lie, I have slipped up and had the occasional fast food fix but nowadays I can really feel the effects it has on me! Sluggish, lethargic, moody and irritable are just a few things that I feel after eating processed crap and you have to ask yourself "why do I do it?"
I'll tell you why, habit. Convenience. It's that simple. Rushing around and not eating for hours and then the thought hits you that you're actually quite hungry and if you don't eat something in the next five minutes the next person you come across will lose a finger if they stick it too close to your mouth. So you grab the first thing that comes to hand which is usually sugary, fatty, carb laden fake food which has been processed so much that you mistake it for delicious goodness and then the cycle begins all over again because you've filled the gap, you're not hungry when the next meal time comes around and so on and so forth.
There will be some people mocking this idea. I know. I was one of them. I totally bought in to the idea that we've been eating meat and drinking milk etc for so long and we're always being told that it's good for us but it's not until you cut that shit out that you realise just how untrue that is. Like MT says: just because you can, doesn't mean you should. It's like alcohol. We all like a drink and even if you don't turn into a psychotic axe wielding maniac after a few beers doesn't mean that in the long run its good for you. Yes you can have a drink with no real short term effects except that the hangovers get worse as you get older. Guess what? That's your body saying: I don't like this! Stop it now please!
A few years ago I was diagnosed with depression (now there's a revelation) and I was told that I had to eat healthily and get more exercise etc etc. Fine, I did that and yes started to feel better but still not really 100%
And then I had a wake up call (those who know me know what it was) and once I had gotten my head round that's turned thirty (another wake up call!) and thought "what am I doing?"
Thirty years old and still miserable, feeling sorry for myself. You know what, enough of the pity party, you want life to change, you have to change. So I jacked in my job, got the dreds I had always wanted and looked into the raw food thing in more detail. It did begin as an idea for an article but has ended up making a massive difference to my life!
I know people don't get it or don't want to get it but you have to get to these things in your own time and change what needs to be changed when it needs to be changed in your own time so I'll just carry on marching to my own tune. Something I wish I'd done a long time ago. And I don't want people to think that this is a preachy "do as I tell you" piece of writing. I just like to write it down to make sense of it in my own head.
Fucking hippy.
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