Dancin’ Feet – Paul McCartney, Apple Records And The End Of My Musical Career

Not a lot of people know this, but I was nearly a song writer. Sadly, my ambition in that direction was crushed very early on. Personally, I blame The Beatles. Particularly Paul McCartney. Although I suppose that my complete lack of musical talent might have been a factor. There was an event which all parents of small children in the 1970s anticipated with dread. The handing out to their eager offspring of descant recorders at school.

Spoofer McGrimes – How A Childhood Of Lying Has Led Me To Want To Be A Writer When I Grow Up

When I was a kid, I was very good at getting people to believe things. Maybe it was my cheeky imp-like face and cute little button nose. Maybe it was because when I told them things, I often did it on an individual basis like I was letting them in on some sort of secret. Who knows? But when I told outrageous porkies, the other kids believed me.

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Funeral – Freemasons, Gangsters And The Scorsese Family Christmas

 

You know the phrase “You’ll be late for your own funeral, you will”? Well, my dad very nearly was. In fact, he very nearly didn’t make it to his funeral at all. Personally, I blame The Freemasons for this.

So Here I Am Once More… – Marillion, Vaccines And Teenage Angst Poetry

When I was 14, I came down with a terrible dose of Marillion. It hit me particularly hard, because I was busy fighting off a virulent case of Catholicism at the time.

I am being metaphorical here, of course. Marillion is not a disease. It’s not like mumps or measles or scarlet fever or any of the other old time, wholesome maladies that the anti-vaxxers seem so grimly determined to make fashionable again.

Mirror Mirror On The Wall – Ghost Stories, Philosophy and The Power Of Coincidence

Today, I’m going to try some philosophy. It’s not going to be the philosophy of Socrates or Plato or Aristotle though. And that is the correct chronological order of those particular philosophers, by the way. Though I only know that because I’ve seen Bill And Ted’s Excellent Adventure so many times.

Brexit Inferno! – Bangers, Flick Knives And Digging For Victory

“The Day The Earth Caught Fire!” No, that’s not a headline from the front page of The Daily Express. It’s the title of an old movie. Though it could be something The Daily Express might bang on about. They love a bit of extreme weather and impending doom at that newspaper. Reading The Daily Express is a bit like having a conversation with one of those blokes who used to walk around with a sandwich board proclaiming “The End Is Nigh”.

Cultural Misappropriation – Dreadlocks, The Bible And Bill And Ted’s Excellent Adventure

I haven’t posted in a while, but I’m not going to ease myself back in gently. I’m going to ask myself a difficult and controversial question. “Should white people be allowed to wear dreadlocks?” No, they shouldn’t. Because, with very few exceptions, white people look really fucking stupid with dreadlocks. That’s just a fact. Okay, it’s a fashion fact rather than a political one, but it’s still a fact. Ermmm… it would seem that this question wasn’t quite as knotty as I thought it would be. Goodbye.

Father’s Day – Bladerunner, Summer Holidays and Suicidal Sheep

 

So, it’s Father’s Day once again. That’s a photo of me and my dad back in the day. Yeah, yeah, I know. He’s smoking a cigarette right next to me. You have to bear in mind that this photo was taken in 1977. Only vegans and yoga teachers gave a fuck about that sort of thing back then. He did look after me, I promise.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Hurdles – How Martial Arts Have Taught Me Persistence Pays And Good Things Come To Those Who Wait

Back in 1983, when I was 14, I started practising martial arts. Like many people who become martial artists, I started off with karate. Shotokan karate, to be precise. And like many people who start fight training, I became absolutely obsessed with it. Here is a photo of me taken at Christmas that year:

I Come From A Little Town You’ve Probably Never Heard Of – How My Only Meaningful Dream Is Actually Just One Big Joke

A few years ago, I went to get some talk therapy. The therapist asked me to keep a dream diary. I did warn her that this was probably a waste of time. My dreams very rarely have any structure. When my slumbering brain talks to me, it’s like an over excited five year old boy trying to tell his mum about a particularly great day he’s had at school. There lots of : “And then, and then, and then, and then…” but with very little actual information being imparted.