''Impotent''

A poem.
A release.
An attempt to express.
An apology.

feeling like an outsider,
on the fringes of the crowd,
edgy nervous and anxious
consumed by a big black cloud

when what it was that was stopping you
worry of not being good enough to make someone happy
in hindsight, having the strength to defeat and ignore it
would have that effect, and have someone love me for me

To pass the time during severe stretches of boredom, heres a very poor filler:

Putting famous song titles to the test - An occasional series
An occasional series on seeing how true the statements are.

1: The Beatles 'All You Need Is Love'

If I was a lawyer, I'd be rubbing my hands with glee right now - ooh the damages I could win if I bought a case against this.

A lovely sentiment, theres no denying that, and a lovely song. I tried it one day; I thought to myself, 'I'm madly in love, so lets give it a whirl'.

Unfortunately Im also diabetic, so as much as most things I need can be covered by that statement, insulin isnt - I nearly collapsed following that advice. And what about water, food, money, beer, a roof over your head? Not to mention a radio or cd player for the song itself...

...Im sorry, but this one fails the test. Im actually surprised that in this health and safety conscious nanny state, it doesnt come with a warning.

Success rating: 10/10 for happiness, but 0/10 for survival prospects.

Nurse...!!

2: The Jam 'A Town Called Malice'

Looked on all the maps, couldnt find it. Although, spookily, I get off the slow train to hell each morning for work one stop earlier than Woking, which is the inspiration for the town in the song.

And I thought I couldnt get any closer to the bowels of hell than Farnborough.

Success rating: -100. (0 for success, -100 for reminding me of where I work)

3: Johnny Cash 'Ring Of Fire'

...yeah right, like Im going to attempt to put that to the test.

Success Rating - if you're willing to try, then let me know the score.

More soon(ish). Maybe.

A typical day of various retail establishments trying to increase their sales, and annoying me in the process -

Early morning, at the train station, some ungodly hour (barely) sometime after dawn:

‘Good morning, Sir, how can I help you?’
‘Good morning. Just the newspaper please.’
‘Thank you. Any drink or pastries with that, Sir?’
‘Um, no thank you.’

Half an hour later, in a bakery:

‘Can I help?’
‘Yes please, can I have a sausage and bean melt please?’
‘Just the one Sir?’
-Clenched teeth- ‘Yes thank you’.

Lunch time, being lazy and unhealthy, in a ‘fast’ food chain:

‘Whos next please?’
‘Yes, can I have a cheeseburger please?’
‘Is that a meal?’
‘No, just the burger’
‘Any fries with that?’
- A million less polite phrases that come to mind -

...What I actually want to say is:

‘Oh my, thank you so much, Id completely forgotten that I wanted something else other than what I asked for. You are so kind, me and my forgetfulness. Silly me, not being able to think of more than one item at a time, and to think I nearly walked out of here without asking. Oh, how Id have laughed. Egg on my face, or what!

For the umpteenth time today, No I don’t want anything else with that you no-hoper cretin. Do you remember my request from, ooh, 30 seconds ago? Yes, the one where I asked for A CHEESEBURGER? Pretty much a self contained sentence wasn’t it? There was no ‘AND’ hanging in the air afterwards was there? Or did you think I was pausing for dramatic effect, ready to utter some extra dialogue, in the manner of some bad ham acting? No……….

…….. I wasn’t. Just a cheeseburger please. If I wanted a meal, the question would have been ‘Can I have a cheeseburger meal please?’ If I wanted fries, I would have said ‘a cheeseburger and fries please’. Is it my face? Do I look slightly retarded? Well, thank you for being so considerate and trying to help me out, but it’s not necessary, really it isnt. Oh, Ive got it – you thought we were playing charades? Now, shall we start again?’

What I actually say is, ‘No’.

I’m tempted to start handing pieces of paper over with my exact requests written on, followed by ‘The End’. But I’m afraid they might not be able to read it…

I read a small article last week, which to me perfectly encapsulated the ‘shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted’ metaphor.

It was written about the suggestions of an MP on how to help minimise our use of plastic bags when grocery shopping. And, as usual, clearly demonstrated the lack of foresight our university-educated, supposedly socially and economically aware, custodians of the country have when it comes to common sense issues.

Although I can never fault the intended merits of the proposed outcome, it seems time and time again their visions of how to best solve issues such as this is reactive rather than pro-active.

The proposal in question was based on the principal of charging shoppers around 5p for a plastic bag at the checkout, the idea being that it should drastically reduce the amount of plastic bags used. In essence, a very worthy idea, and anything that takes strides towards improving the environment is wholeheartedly welcomed.

However, its not really striking the problem at the root cause is it?
The levy that needs to be imposed should be on the retailers and manufacturers themselves. Or at least, the pleas to stop using them should be directed at those who supply them or offer them to us. Why not pass legislation limiting the amount of plastic bags a retailer can produce each year? Or setting a percentage that must not be exceeded?

Surely fixing the engine that runs the machine, rather than the end user having the onus on them, is the best long-term environmental and economic option.
Make the manufacturers accountable for the packaging and waste they produce; insist they switch to degradable alternatives to plastic bags, such as paper. Why not produce a branded ‘rucksack’ for each shopper – producing a reusable rucksack instead could offset the cost of buying millions of bags.

In short, there are hundreds of better, more impactful ways to address this problem – not the lazy route of taxation, which always seems to be the fallback option.

The suggestion to tax the use of bags is not new either – it was introduced in Ireland and proposed in several other countries including Bangladesh up to five years ago. Although in Ireland it met with initial huge success, I’m not aware of any long-term sustained benefit.
Also, it wont do anything to stop those already produced, or I doubt smaller independent stores will comply. And there is also a worry that any added tax costs may end up being swallowed by the consumer – don’t tell me the supermarkets are not beyond the ‘we will pay the tax for you’ ruse.

This topic could run and run, I’m merely outlining the possibilities that were missed, as well as the implications not addressed. I mean, what about packaging of goods, junk mail-shots, and ironically, the use of plastic bags by charities for donations?

Although imposing a tax may work to some degree, it wont eliminate those bags already in use; it wont eliminate the use of those little plastic bags inside the supermarkets for vegetables; it wont eliminate the use of them for rubbish collection; in short, it wont eliminate their production.

As I said, anything, which shows an attempt to help reduce such waste and minimise environmental damage, is applaudable – but the real target should be the manufacturing process and the drafting of proposals on how to package goods better.

How fantastic was Prince at the Brits?????????????

Anybody who knows me, or is reading this, wont be at all surprised at my over-excitement – acting like a screaming girl fawning over her idol!!

But I always feel compelled to spread the message – like some kind of evangelist.

I’m anxious to have other people exposed to the musicianship, the performance, the talent, and the beautiful music.

I mean, even being an uber-fan, what a performance. So effortless, so flawless. Clearly enjoying himself, he just makes everything look so damn easy.

And the guitar playing – I’m so pleased he’s getting back into the habit of playing it more, and ditching the horns a bit.
Sometimes, it appears as though he merely places a finger on the keys, and manages to entice out the most amazing sounds without doing anything more than just willing them!
________________________________________

One of the reasons why I’m so annoying about my praise is because of the sterile, consumerist way in which music, entertainment and perceived ‘talent’ is marketed these days. Most people will raise an eyebrow and think that he has not been around, or not doing anything for years, merely because he has refused to play the money and popularity game. He has done what most musicians strive for, and made music for music’s sake, not to the detriment of integrity or whoring for column inches – which is the way things have been with the stranglehold of multi-national record companies.

Music has long been dictated by marketing, demographics and money. Creativity, expression, and doing something wilful and weird has meant that major labels, tv and radio stations will ostracise it. The advent of cheap equipment, recording facilities and the internet (naturally) has allowed music to be music again, and start claiming back its rightful place as the primary focal point. And also proving that given the opportunity, people will gladly listen to something different, passionate and created with emotion, rather than to fit an idealised view of what the yes-men believe we should be exposed to.

Listen to any piece of music by a talented musician, and you will clearly hear the passion in what they are doing, and how much it lifts the music. Listen again to something that has been recorded to ‘appeal’ and you can instantly feel the hollowness.

Without people like Prince, a musical genius in every sense of the word, the world would be a duller place. An inspiration to countless musicians on the scene today, some whom you wouldn’t even imagine being influenced.

I’m passionate about music, and passionate about the ‘soul’ of music. So anything I can do to extol the virtues of it, I will.
_________________________________________

Sorry, went off on one there.

What was I talking about? Oh yes, what a bloody fantastic performance – made me tingle. And how good does he look for about 48?? Even in heels and make-up?? I’d do him…

Can’t wait for the album.

Ah…that’s better…needed to express that…I was just too excited!!!!

So its finally been passed, with no great surprise.

The smoking ban.

Which is no bad thing, really it isnt. Even as a smoker, I will fully support the measures.

I just wish for once we could see the real agenda of actions such as this.

The politicians who raised it have themselves been quoted as saying that it will protect non-smokers in public places. It will become the 'norm'. But thats not entirely true. If the full reasons for imposing it were that, then why the exemptions to prisons, care homes and barracks? Surely if the agenda is meant to be to 'protect non-smokers from passive smoking' then it should apply there too?

Oh sorry, I forgot, prisoners dont have the ability to go outside. Tough. They are in prison after all. So what about the rights of non-smokers in prison? A bit skewed isnt it.

Same with care homes. Surely if there was a place that really needed it, it would be somewhere housing the frail, ill, sick and old?? Again, so much for the rights of the non-smokers in those communal places to be 'protected'.

I hate the way that the reasoning for these things is distorted to state that its 'for the benefit of the public', 'moral duty' etc. It isnt. Its purely done to improve the public image of the politicians and future voting, not through any deep seated ethical or moral judgements.

The arguments never quite stack up either, to the reasons we are given.

One oft-quoted reason is the drain on resources and expense to the NHS. The cost to the NHS is only approximately £1.5 billion. Only I hear you say? Yes, only. When compared to the fact that the government rakes in over £8 billion a year from taxes on sales, then its a no-win argument. What happens to the other £6.5 billion. And none of that includes VAT either.

If the ban is to be imposed for the reasons quoted, then the figures dont add up - the exclusions and costs I mentioned.

As Ive posted before, if it truly was for ethical, health, or public interest reasons, they have the capacity to ban the sale and production, instead of using lame smoke-screens such as those they have used.

Its an easy target and easy vote winner.

I dont mind the ban, I just dont like the hypocrisy involved.

Where are all the arguments about smog, factory smoke, car and vehicle pollutions which surely affect the health of the public?

Could I possibly counter the governments arguments, stating that by allowing so many vehicles on the roads, they are harming the health of the public with increased exposure to more and more fumes?

Theres also the effects of stress and tension it causes by ever more delays in travel times due to congestions etc. And also the lack of exercise it encourages will undoubtedly also add to heart disease.

Flippant, perhaps, but not altogether untrue.

Just be honest, and dont feed us with pandering pleas to cloud out the truth. Then Ill be happy.

For once, treat the root cause of the issue. The same applies to the glossing over of measures to help global warming, waste and energy-saving issues.

One last thing, I also read that apparently the Commons Bar is exempt from this ban.....enough said.

Hmmm.....

Being the ever-aware kind of person I am, it's taken me god knows how many weeks to notice that somethings changed on my profile.

Someones been playing tag with me, but I wonder who? Im sure there are at least 5 more 'tags' against my profile than I added.

Grafitti artists!!

Okay, this is incredibly random, and exceedingly dull and pointless, but I'm bored...

How expensive are trays?? Unless, that is, you want what is basically a laminated piece of cardboard, with decoupage type photos of flowers, 1930s bakeries or cats glossed onto them - which are the size of a small postcard.

I'm not cheap (oi...watch what you say), but blimey, 'normal' trays are incredibly expensive.

I'm going to stick to 'extreme' eating for now, and take my chances with a cushion and my lap. Adreniline danger junkie or what!!

I was rummaging through some old things the other day, when I came across an old article I wrote a few years ago.

Thought I would dust it off and give it an airing -

“The trials and tribulations of the single thirty-something male…”

I have a problem. Some of the more acerbic females out there may quip that its being male. Such venomous humour. But not altogether a million miles away from the point of this little cry of desperation.

I’m 31, soon to be 32 this year. Not a bad age when all is said and done. The mistakes of my younger years are behind me. The experience that has bought is with me now. And I’m still young enough and lively enough to combine the two in the future. In my prime you might say. However, I’m single. Yes, okay, put those damn violins away. I don’t really mind too much. C’est la vie. Admittedly on occasion I do feel as though I’d want a partner. But not for the sake of having a partner. I mean, I don’t need anyone, but I’d gladly want somebody in my life because I wanted them, not just to have anybody.

I’m not bad looking. Just about have all my own teeth – although they look to be on the way out. No grey hairs. Funny, intelligent, warm, kind and quite sweet really. Oh, and modest. I have my faults, who doesn’t? All in all though, with as much modesty as a statement like this can convey, not a bad catch.

Now when you reach my age there’s usually only one of three reasons why you’re single:

1) Lets skip over the ‘pc’ approach shall we – you’re a bit of a moose. A loser. Unattractive both physically and personally. I don’t think I need to elaborate/
2) You’re a Ladiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeessssss man. Oh yeah baby.
3) You’re divorced / separated / had your heart ripped out, burnt, shredded, put in a blender, frozen, then hurled off a high cliff. Or it just didn’t work out. Whatever.

Therein lies one of our problems gentlemen. We’re labelled. We might as well have a big tattoo on our foreheads saying which tribe we belong to. A human video rental shop, ready for the ladies of the world to browse at whim.

Now that’s not an ideal situation for us males. We’re already on the back foot as it is, reaping the punishment of years of chauvinism. Problem two: The female of the species has long been (rightly) liberated. It is their time. The tables have turned and the power balance has shifted. Women are revolting. I don’t mean physically. Well, some of them are.

The odds are stacking up already my friends, and I’ve not even finished yet. Queasy reading isn’t it? Would you like to take a break? Get some fresh air? Hyperventilating yet?

They say that men are from Mars and women are from Venus. I don’t much hold with that line of thought, for in the main, deep down we both want the same things. To be loved, to love, to enjoy our life, give and be given respect. We may go about it in different ways but we want the same outcome. The way we communicate that IS a problem though. ‘He doesn’t understand me’, ‘She always moans’, ‘He doesn’t listen’, ‘I don’t know what she wants’ etc. Nodding in shameful recognition yet are we? I should think so too. You should be ashamed of yourselves.

I’m a modern man, quite realistic. Definitely in touch with my feminine side (stop sniggering at the back). Those first two obstacles (being categorised and the rise of the woman) don’t faze me too much. For one, I’m in category 3 but without the huge emotional scars. I’ve got a small scratch on my knee, but its barely noticeable. Secondly, I quite like the domineering woman. Okay, moving swiftly on…

It’s this next one that makes me have to wash far too many pairs of pants (you see, I told you I wasn’t a bad catch – I wash my clothes). It’s a no win situation. It’s the proverbial mother of all conundrums to solve. A great big see-saw. I don’t like to say this, but it’s mostly your fault fellas. Yes you. Let me explain…

We’ve established that men of my age generally fall into one of 3 categories. It stands to reason that when looking for an ideal woman, that they will also have their own little tribes:

1) See 1) above. Sorry, but the truth hurts.
2) The female equivalent of the Ladiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeessssss man. The slut.
3) You’re happily married

Okay, so that’s three categories already eliminated. The odds are now very bad:

4) You’re divorced / separated / had your heart ripped out, burnt, shredded, put in a blender, frozen, then hurled off a high cliff. Or it just didn’t work out. Whatever.

Do you see the problem yet? These poor, poor women have dedicated most of their adult life so far to loving one of you scoundrels. Perhaps given up work to have children (or never worked). Cooked and cleaned after you. Tried in vain to turn you into something vaguely resembling a civilised human being. Possibly put up with your wandering eye. Undoubtedly put up with many a drunken escapade. The football, the lads nights. And lets not even go there when it comes to indulging in your filthy depraved perversions (“If you loved me you would…”). Until one day, one or many of the above broke the camels back.

A woman in her early thirties who is separated or divorced is like a born again Christian. A butterfly emerging from their cocoon. Ready to spread their wings and fly away into the beautiful wide world…whilst you’re still the caterpillar. And that’s all they’ll see. Rediscovering their independence; do you really think you stand much chance of any of these women wanting to settle for a caterpillar when there’s a whole group of butterflies out there? Exactly.

They’re too busy going out with their friends. That in itself snowballs the problem. Four or five women together, all lamenting on wasting their prime on you. A whole network of moral support. Safety in numbers, terror for you. Do you recognise these women yet? I’m not saying it’s wrong – it actually makes sense: you don’t want to get hurt again. You want people around that can be trusted. Anything you do is because you want it. No more being moaned to about being on the phone for an hour. And being able to own as many cushions as you like.

It leaves us scratching our heads though. How on earth do we get round this one? Trying to find a woman in your age range who isn’t going to be part of the Sex & The City cult. Let’s take a case study – you’ve been married for years, together for about ten, kids, house, and mortgage, probably a cat. It all goes wrong. He didn’t appreciate you. He cheated. He started buying valentines cards for his Playstation and not for you. Break-up follows. Heartache. Stress. Unhappiness. The inevitable money and house tug-of-war.

Fast forward to when it all calms down and things are settled. You begin to be happy again. You’ve developed a steely resolve that’s so tough it could be used as armoured jackets in warfare. Your girlfriends have been a rock; they’ve been there. Wine night’s follow; girlie nights; the gym. Casualty can now be watched without the guilt. And let’s not forget the cushions. Life is quite rosy – you’re independent. ‘Why on earth did I ever stop doing all of this with my friends?’ you ask yourself.

Cue Mr Single Thirty-something. Is he going to be able to get you to go through all of that again? It’s doubtful – your priorities have changed. You’ve already got the house, the car, had the children and the scar to prove it. Your first love has given you all those things you ever wanted, and now that he has given you a lot of other things you never wanted, it’s going to take a hell of a lot for you to let someone else in.

Unless you’re a serial bunny boiler, in which case can I direct you to category number one of my fellow males?

I’ll finish by explaining the see-saw conundrum: With a see-saw there’s always going to be an imbalance, which explains why whenever the single thirty-something male sits on one they are right at the bottom feeling small. It’s very hard to catch the attention of the woman at the other end when she’s riding so high up the top and doesn’t want to come back down. It’s a long drop to take and can be quite frightening…

Hmmm,

I take it the general consensus on the painting is not a favourable one.

Damn!

There is absolutely no point to this post except for my curiosity about whether anyone:
a) Likes this
and
b) Would pay for it or something similar? Oh, and how much.

Just something to humour me and get some comments

What do you think?

Hooray for random things to occupy a Monday...

Finally, I’ve made it into the movies…

…well, not quite.

I do, however, seem to have found myself being involved in a scene day in day out.

When I catch my usual train, every time without fail there is a slightly large gentleman who is always walking down the road when I leave the station. Oh, who am I kidding, hes more than slightly large – hes huge. Poor guy, only the other week, when it was raining a lot, passers by were convinced that another whale had lost its bearings.

Anyway, I digress.

Yes, every morning, as I leave the station, I feel as though Ive been dropped into the middle of a film scene. The man-mountain is always on the same stretch, big leather coat, slightly Sicilian/Italian features, gold chain, ‘well fed on pasta’ style physique. Always as I turn the corner, there blocking the way, filling the pavement, walking slowly, puffing and panting away – stopping me get by.

Only a long leather jacket, gun, and an extra 4 inches of height separates me from actually being Carlito Brigante.

Know the scene? Its near the end of Carlitos Way, when the ‘mob’ are trying to chase him through the station, but the giant meatball guy cant keep up and just gets in the way.

Oh to have a firearm with me.