Coconuts!

Coconuts! – Why Life Doesn’t Always Hand You Lemons And What To Do With The Things It Does Give You

 

A Supermarket In The 70s. The Word "Super" Must Have Had A Different Meaning Back Then

A Supermarket In The 70s. The Word “Super” Must Have Had A Different Meaning Back Then

Coconuts have followed me around all my life. Read More…

Noseybonk!

Noseybonk! – How Sophie Ellis-Bextor’s Mum Helped Me Through Times Of Terror When I Was A Kid

No matter how idyllic your childhood was, in a way it was a bit like a nightmare. Read More…

And On That Bombshell Part Two

And On That Bombshell Part Two – The Secret Science Behind Killing Top Gear

Top Gear is dead. Jeremy Clarkson has had his ersatz trial by media, the BBC has sacked him and so Top Gear breathes no more. Read More…

Snake Oil

Snake Oil – How A Song By Cher Predicted The Rise Of The Sex Blogger

 

What PhD Students Looked Like In 2003

What PhD Students Looked Like In 2003

The above photo is of a lady called Dr Brooke Magnenti. Read More…

The Legend of Moondancer

THE LEGEND OF MOONDANCER – How There’s Often More To Some Things Than Meets The Eye And Why That Can Be A Bit Of A Let Down

 Don’t fret; this isn’t some sort of homage to G P Taylor or J K Rowling or any of the long dead writers whose ideas they both nicked. Read More…

In The Pink

In The Pink – How Girls And Boys Are Different And Why Aliens Think Girls Are Better

 

YOUNG MAN, there's a place you can go...sorry, I mean young woman..shit!

YOUNG MAN, there’s a place you can go…sorry, I mean young woman..shit!

In Britain today, women outnumber men in two thirds of university undergraduate courses. So far, so feminist. Read More…

Get In The Back Of The Van!

Get In The Back Of The Van! – How A Simple Phrase From A 1980s Movie Can Help You Cope With Idiots

 

If One More Person Names Shawshank As Their Favourite Movie, I'll Slit This Man's Throat

If One More Person Names Shawshank As Their Favourite Movie, I’ll Slit This Man’s Throat

Everyone has a list of favourite movies. My top five list of my favourite movies is quite a fluid thing. Read More…

Dazed And Confused

Dazed And Confused – How The World Underestimates The Intelligence Of Even Very Stupid People

 When I was a kid, one of my favourite cartoons was Top Cat. Read More…

A Big Bang Theory?

A Big Bang Theory? – Why You Really Can’t Win If You’re A Woman And What We Should Do About That Fact

 images (1)

 I wasn’t consciously aware of the name Kaley Cuoco-Sweeting until a few days ago. Read More…

The Horror of Hogmanay

The Horror of Hogmanay – Why The Night I Used To Look Forward To All Year Now Fills Me With Dread

 

The Infamous Vogue "Catfight" Cover

The Infamous Vogue “Catfight” Cover

I didn’t go out last night. Nothing unusual in that. I don’t go out most nights. But last night – as I’m sure you’re all aware- was New Year’s Eve. Not so very long ago, a team of wild horses couldn’t have dragged me in the direction of my sofa on Hogmanay night. Sick or injured, unemployed or due at work the following morning, I would be out on the town.

I say not so very long ago but I really mean “not so very long ago in my head”. I am of that age where I think that 1990 wasn’t all that long ago. The sort of bloke who was shocked when they re-made Total Recall because, to his thinking, the one starring Sharon Stone and Arnold Schwarzenegger only came out a week last Tuesday.

So, not so very long ago (in my head) I loved going out on New Year’s Eve. I loved the drinking and the noise and the gaggles of scantily clad girls skittering around on their unfeasibly high heels. I loved the fact that there’d always be an entertaining fight to watch. Or, if you were lucky and the amount of booze you’d taken on board had made you feel “tasty” enough, a fight to get involved in yourself. If you got really lucky, of course, there’d be a fight between two of the aforementioned scantily clad ladies. A bewitching flurry of hair pulling, smeared lipstick and flashing knickers. If they happened to be wearing knickers.

When I was in my twenties – which as we have already established was around about a week last Tuesday- I loved all that stuff. Though don’t get me wrong. I haven’t developed an aversion to scantily clad young ladies. It’s just I now prefer to view them in the summer while I sit on the steps of the town library, drinking in the sunshine and eating a sandwich.

I no longer relish the scantily clad ladies lurching at me with amorous intent, reeking of Pernod, puke and cheap perfume. Though I would still watch a catfight if there was one going on.

I no longer wade into bar room brawls. Though this is mildly ironic because I practice lots of martial arts nowadays and as a consequence am considerably better at fighting than I was when I was in my twenties.

I do still get drunk though. I got drunk last night, but I did this on my sofa sitting next to my missus, Hayley. We watched the 1938 version of Robin Hood. The one starring Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland. Then we played a game which tested Hayley’s theory that a crucial plot twist always turns up exactly one hour into any film, no matter how long the film is.

Turned out to be a pretty good theory as it happens. Doesn’t work on Stanley Kubrick movies though. They always sort of come in two parts and therefore have a bit of a distorted story arc.

Then we went to bed, having had a far more entertaining evening than we would have done if we’d gone out on the town. I didn’t go out last night, and you know what? I’m really very comfortable with that fact.

© Copyright Michael Grimes 2015