Monday, December 18, 2017

Breakdown: Part I: I Am Danny Dyer...

I am suffering with work pressures and one of my coping strategies is to do at least one creative bit of non-work nonsense every day. 

Today, I have mostly given my mind some form of respite from increasingly pressured deadlines by trying to come up with lines that Danny Dyer's EastEnders character, Mick Carter, may say. 

So here is my list so far:
'You're all rub-a-dub-dub and no tub!'
'You're all mash and no pie!' 
'You're all tinsel and no town!'
'You're all "gee" and no "zer"!'
'You're the sort of geezer who'll wear a nappy but is never rash!'
'You're the sort of geezer who'll dunk but will never crumble!'

I will do nothing more creative than this in my working life. Fact.

Saturday, November 18, 2017

Grayson Perry: Man in a Dress: Part Two...



The Missus discovered pottery in her late forties and, by a process of osmosis, I have become much more familiar with all things ceramic. So a pilgrimage to Bernard Leach's studio in St Ives and various trips to the twice-yearly Art in Clay exhibition means I have absorbed a bit of love for the art.

The best thing about absorbing somebody else's love for something is that things can catch you by surprise much more easily, like a kiss you weren't expecting, and so it was with Grayson Perry. 

I've been aware of Grayson for a while. The self-proclaimed potter (rather than the more high-art term, ceramicist) won the Turner Prize in 2003, then he delivered a fantastic set of Reith Lectures in 2013, where he discussed the state of the modern art world. As a former community and youth arts worker, his discussion on what represented the boundaries of the art world – and how the gate-keepers of those boundaries kept the idea of folk or community art firmly at the gates – chimed with me.

As the Missus is a huge fan, I've also watched his many TV shows where he examines issues such as masculinity, then goes through his process and explains how he creates his artistic response to those issues, be it in clay, quilt or other massive artwork.

So I had quite high hopes for his recent show, Grayson Perry: Man in a Dress: Part Two, at the London Palladium and I wasn't disappointed. He's a very human, very funny and very engaging raconteur, whose explanations and discussions kept everyone entertaining for a few hours. 

Even better, the Missus sent a tweet in with picture of her at a potter's wheel in Greece in a response for pre-show audience interaction, and a huge version of this appeared on a  screen behind Grayson about 20 minutes into the second half. I was stunned and she was utterly delighted. He also said some nice stuff about what she'd tweeted, too. 

I remain convinced that Grayson Perry is not only a massively talented and important artist, but he's also a thoroughly decent bloke. And, in an age of vaccuous celebrity, that basic requirement of somebody I really like matters.

So, please keep on trucking (well, biking or motorbiking), fella. You remain loved at Brooks Towers.

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

How to Be Middle-aged...

I recently came into some cash and, rather than spunking it on several antique snooker cues or a holiday with the Missus, I did an adult thing... and spent it on getting some decking in the garden. 

And, bizarrely, I am happy about this. Like amazingly happy. One of the joys of married life and growing older with the Missus is that I have actually become more responsible and she has become more chilled out about daft nonsense.

The decking is probably evidence of this from my point of view. I have become a little home-maker. 

Of maybe I just have a thing for wood. It is possible...

Friday, September 22, 2017

A Quick Word on Sex...

I like to think that I am as open-minded as every other reactionary Yorkshire leftie of a certain age and I am not a prude when it comes to 'boudoir matters'. Apart from the fact that I have referred to sex as 'boudoir matters'. But, frankly speaking, enough is enough! 

What started out as an amusing email trickle has now become a junkmail deluge of various women wanting me to 'hook up' with them so I can give them a 'booty call' and become their 'fuck buddy'. Yes. This is an actual term. And it has nothing to do with Buddy Holly. RIP.

Various wannabe lovers have explained to me how their boyfriends have cheated on them and they want to film themselves getting 'a severe pounding' so they can send it to their love rat exes. Others have expressed a fascination with 'anal' and want a willing partner to experiment with. On this, I am assuming the ladies in question don't want to be both sponge and stone. To be fair, I didn't make any further inquiries, so I have no idea. 

I can only conclude that one young lady is also into animal cruelty as she wanted me to soak her pet cat till it was dripping wet. Sodden cats are not sexy. They are sad. Fact.

Smut just isn't what it used to be and my junkmail box is now becoming a scary place to visit. However, I am free most Wednesdays...

PS. That last bit was a joke. 

Saturday, September 09, 2017

The Sisters of Mercy at The Roundhouse...


I have long loved all things Gothic when it comes to music. It was a teenage thing, although I was usually too cheery to really embrace the internalised and miserable side of the tribe, and it has stayed with me into adulthood. And no matter what my other musical leanings and loves over the years, and there have been and continue to be many, the Sisters of Mercy remain one of the bands I return to time and time again. 

So it was no surprise that me and my long-time mate, the Goth Barrister from Goole, wended our way to the Roundhouse in Camden to see the Sisters in concert recently. 

The evening was ace and it kicked off with several pints of Jet Black Heart at a BrewDog pub in London, before we headed to the gig. The queue to get into the venue was huge and it featured lots of Goths of all shapes and sizes. The once beautiful flowing locks, lithe frames, make-up and tight-fitting blouses were now, sadly, gone. And that was just the blokes. 

Once the Sisters came onto the stage, none of that mattered, though. 

The band have always been a credible live act through its many incarnations, with lead singer and lyricist Andrew Eldritch and drum machine Doctor Avalanche being the only constants in the line-up. The back catalogue was also well represented, with tracks from the band's three studio albums and 12" single releases performed in slightly rockier versions. More from Vision Thing (1989), the title track from Floodland (1987) and Walkaway from First and Last and Always (1984) were personal highlights. There were also newer tracks that were quite impressive, too.

The evening was maybe a bit of a nostalgia-fest and, at points, a goth singalong. But it was also enjoyable. Although, that's not something a card-carrying Goth should admit...

An Occasional Series of Inspirational Words: Part III...

Friday, July 28, 2017

Other Woman News…


I am slowly making a return to hapkido training, so I had the first of what I hope will be regular one-on-one sessions with the Other Woman. The battleplan is to run through the full syllabus as I strive to get some sort of fluidity and consistency back and assess where I can still be strong. 

Because of my knee and feet injuries, my kicking is woeful. And because of my lack of consistent hapkido training, a lot of my techniques are pretty rusty. My hands are still OK, though, and my wrist and shoulder locks from standing are still half decent. I can also utilise those in my BJJ sparring. Everything else is pretty ropey, though. Dorothy was a long way from Kansas and I feel a long way from black belt.

But it was joyous to spend an hour getting thrown, tripped and joint locked by my Other Woman. Her friendship remains one of the genuine delights of my life.

In the pub afterwards, we veered away from hapkido and, not unusually, got onto sex and discussed allowed lists. Mine rarely changes and my quintet of women usually features tennis ace Venus Williams, writer Mary Shelley, Teri Hall (1980s porn star and not the lead singer of Fun Boy Three), former Corrie actress Shobna Gulati and French film actress Isabelle Adjani, plus whoever I’m currently obsessed with. At the moment, I am a bit in love with Corrie actresses Kym Marsh and Catherine Tyldesley.

The Other Woman then confessed to a surprise entry on her list: Kevin McCloud, who’s the architectural boffin from TV show Grand Designs. I told the Other Woman that she’d be too much for the posh building nerd and she’d only break him with her gropey hands, leaving him shaken and crying in a corner as he mourned his lost innocence and dignity.

Apparently, this was not considered a compliment.

The Ferryman…


Jez Butterworth’s breakthrough play, Mojo, won rave reviews in 1995, then his 2009 play, Jerusalem, which featured a star turn from Mark Rylance, gained him glowing reviews and critical acclaim yet again.

His latest play, which began life at the Royal Court and has now transferred to the West End, is The Ferryman. And it’s pretty fucking amazing.

In a nutshell, this black comedy drama love story tragedy (it beautifully interweaves elements of all these genres) tells the story of an Irish farming family in the early 1980s on the two days they reap the harvest from the family farm. The back story that drives the drama forward examines how British rule in Ireland and the Troubles have impacted on three generations of the family when a body is found in a peat bog and various chickens come home to roost.

The play scrutinises the hot topic of radicalisation, too, as the story moves towards its inevitably grim and bloody conclusion, which mixes elements of Greek and Irish myth. 

Paddy Considine is the star name leading the cast and helping selling tickets in the West End. He is excellent, but it’s a real ensemble piece with a large group of actors that features children and tweens among its numbers. 

Sam Mendes directs and there’s not a weak performance on the stage, but it’s Butterworth’s writing that is the real standout. At times, it’s poignant and moving, and, at other times, it’s laugh-out-loud funny with some great one-liners from the kids in particular. But it’s touching and eloquent and immensely layered without boasting about its own cleverness, too. Three and a bit hours just flew by.

Essentially, it’s a beautifully crafted play and it’s the sort of thing that’s made me want to write a stage play again after a bit of a lay-off. My effort may not be anywhere near as good as The Ferryman, but I have an astonishingly impressive model to inspire me, and that’s sometimes good enough to produce something that is at least half-decent.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Back on the Baize: Part II...


It's been a rough couple of matches on the county pool front. I'm back in the A Team and I'm playing further up the order, which means I'm usually playing the match-hardened tournament players from other county teams. I'm not quite match sharp enough for that at the moment, so I've been on the end of my worst run at county pool, with 0/4, 1/4 and 0/4. 

I've had a couple of half chances and the record could have been a bit better. But the truth is I haven't been sharp enough to put the chances away, despite a much increased practice regime and the feeling it is starting to come together again. 

I started to fly a little bit in the last match, though, and hit a 3/4 and deserved to win at least 3/4 as well. The simple truth is that it will take a bit of time to be fully match sharp and compete against the best players in other counties. But more consistent form is in the post and it should arrive in the next couple of months.

It's still good to back, though. I have missed competing and I have missed the people.

Friday, June 23, 2017

Hokusai: Beyond the Great Wave...


One-word review: stunning.

Two-word review: simply stunning.

Three-word review: simply fucking stunning!

Longer review: The Hokusai exhibition at the British Museum is amazingly good. It mainly focuses on the later career of the Japanese artist and it includes so many things to marvel at that it probably needs a couple of visits to fully appreciate it.

I've been slightly obsessed with Under the Wave Off Kanagawa for a few decades now and that has led to a more general if not particularly educated interest in ukiyo-e. I'm in no way any sort of authority on the subject, but I've read a few books on it and seen exhibitions by other Japanese floating world artists.

It's beautiful stuff and the Hokusai exhibition had some of the most beautiful of all the beautiful stuff I've seen. I'm still computing what I saw and how good it was, which is why this review is offering very little actual information.

The exhibition ends on 13 August. My advice: buy, steal or beg to secure a ticket.

Friday, May 26, 2017

Why The Fast and the Furious is Better Than Shakespeare…


I quite like some Shakespeare plays. It’s mainly the big, more mature works that I like, such as King Lear, Antony and Cleopatra, Macbeth, Hamlet, etc, but I do often feel it’s a cultural stick that literature-loving people hit less literature-loving people with. And, if the less literature-loving people don’t like being hit with that stick, that somehow makes them intellectually inferior or a bit thick. 

They’re not. They just aren’t massively interested in plays that are 400 years old and the product of a commercial writer, who’s been moulded into a heritage icon by various literary institutions and academics in the last 100 or so years. 

In fact, the only people I know who really, really like Shakespeare tend to be actors, who see performing it as the height of their professional lives because they get to mouth elegant and archaic poetry, and directors, who use their interpretation of a particular play, to put their artistic marker down. As a one-time theatre director, I have certainly been guilty of the latter in the past. It’s can sometimes be good or it can sometimes be a bit self-indulgent. I’ve seen both.

I’ve also sat through too many bad productions of Shakespeare plays to know that not everyone should be allowed to produce Shakespeare plays. It takes a cast and crew of real quality to make them work and breathe enough life into them to make them entertaining and relevant. Because, let’s be frank, the jokes don’t translate particularly well, while the physical comedy and oft-repeated identity swap slapstick is only just OK. Those same Bard-lovers, however, would criticise the same gag on Mrs Brown’s Boys.

All of which brings us to The Fast and the Furious (TFTF) movie series.

This is now on film number eight in the series of a planned ten. I am a late-comer to the franchise but I am genuinely wowed by it. The latest film has also become the highest-grossing film of all time. It is a worldwide smash.

Sadly, I have yet to see number eight but I have seen the previous seven and I am slowly becoming convinced that they are better than anything Shakespeare ever did. And here’s why…

i) Themes: Bard-lovers often talk about the universality of themes in Shakespeare plays: ambition in Julius Caesar and Macbeth, pride in King Lear, jealousy in Othello, indecision in Hamlet, etc. TFTF series has these themes, too, and it also throws in betrayal, loyalty, love and a whole host of others that also feature in Shakespeare plays. But it does them much quicker, which is better for busy people who don’t have three hours to listen to a whining Dane who should make up his mind.

ii) Action: Most of the big set piece battles or other scenes in Shakespeare plays happen off-stage. So there are a few sword fights here and there, but most of the cool, action stuff is usually reported and left to the imagination of the theatre-goer. Unless it is a film version. But the problem even with the film versions is that the language is so old that the description doesn’t always translate. Take Enobarbus’ speech describing Cleopatra getting off a barge in Antony and Cleopatra. It’s evocative and full of beautiful poetry, but it is very, very long. The Fast and the Furious just do the scene and mainly let the action speak for itself. Did Shakespeare ever have an ambulance crashing into a military drone after a high-speed car chase through a tunnel? No. Would a description of that scene in an archaic tongue be better than the actual scene itself? Would it buggery!


iii) Music: There are a few songs in Shakespeare plays, but they’re generally quite melancholy affairs, such as Feste’s song, Hey-ho, the Wind and the Rain, in Twelfth Night. Most experts also suggest that the music in Elizabethan and Jacobean theatre would be incidental music to set mood, etc. So we can assume it was hackneyed stuff that was nothing to write home about. All TFTF films, however, include what I am reliably informed by young people can only be described as banging soundtracks. They compliment and support the action because of the excellent sound editing technology. There was also no hip-hop in the Shakespeare plays. Loser!

iv) Feminism: Shakespeare plays were so sexist that women were not allowed to play women on stage. If they did so, they were seen as a bit slaggy or immoral. So blokes took the great female roles of Juliet, Lady Macbeth, Cleopatra, Gertrude, Ophelia, Goneril, etc. The whole world of Shakespearean theatre was well sexist. In the world of TFTF, however, women play women’s roles and there are quite a lot of actresses. The likes of Michelle Rodriquez, Gina Carano, Jordana Brewster, Nathalie Emmanuel, Gal Gadot and Ronda Rowsey also kick all sorts of arse. It is true that lots of extras wear very little so the feminist argument may lose some ground here. But what are folk supposed to wear in hot climates? Overcoats? That would look equally ridiculous…

v) Returning characters: It’s true that a few characters do return in Shakespeare plays. Sir John Falstaff appeared in both parts of Henry IV and got the star role in The Merry Wives of Windsor, while Mark Antony and Octavius Caesar both turned up in Julius Caesar and Antony and Cleopatra. But the return of guest characters is not a major feature in Shakespeare plays. TFTF films series has lots of them, though, and their reappearance is both familiar and allows for the continuations of previous story arcs. It’s franchise genius. Imagine things getting really shit for King Lear then man of action Fortinbras turns up to help him kick the crap of Edmund and he saves Cordelia, too. That would be better than the grief-fest ending the play currently has. Or how about Lady Macbeth ventures south to give Goneril tips on being an ambitious bitch? Shakespeare plays would be better if popular characters could return.
So. In conclusion, TFTF film series kicks the granny out of anything Shakespeare ever did.

PS. There are also cars in TFTF franchise, too. But I don’t like about cars, so it’s not worth discussing. But these films do have more cars than Shakespeare plays so that would be a win for people who do like cars.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Training Martial Arts When Injured…


So far, it’s been a year of constant lower-body injuries. On the plus side, I am trying to retain some form of martial arts training while doing what I can to give myself the best chance of healing up.

So here’s some things I have learnt both recently and through 15 years of picking up various knocks, strains, breaks and pains.

DISCLAIMER: Please bear in mind I am not a medical professional. The following are my thoughts on retaining some form of training programme if the injury is not severe. If the injury is severe, then stop training and don’t start again until you are properly diagnosed and told that you can by somebody suitably qualified. This does not include your mate who has access to Google or some homeopathy twat who thinks they can heal cancer with a twig.

Rant over. Here’s some things I have learnt about training with injuries:

i) You can always train something!
Most injuries – even really bad ones – will allow movement in some part of your body. So you may no longer be able to perform tornado roundhouse kicks or spider guard drills ad infinitum because they require too much body movement. You may be able to slowly drill a front kick or an armbar, though. I broke some floating ribs a few years ago and that was very limiting in terms of movement, so I watched technique videos, did grip strengthening exercises and played with standing wrist locks until I healed up. It kept me occupied and I even learnt some stuff. I also didn’t fully stagnate.

ii) You don’t have to miss classes!
I currently train in two martial arts, one for 15 years and the other for five, and I’ve also boxed for a couple of years. I’d never claim to be a world-beater at any of them, but one of the great things about all the places I've trained is that injured students are welcome. And that’s particularly true of the martial arts schools. Both my hapkido and my BJJ instructors will quite happily work around me and my injuries, and it’s the same with my fellow students. Can’t do spectacular aerial falls any more when that’s what everyone else is doing? Fine. Do something else. Or just watch that bit of the class, then take part in the bit you can do.

iii) You don’t have to miss classes!
This is not a cut and paste error. It’s a continuation of the previous point broken up for page aesthetics. If your injury is so severe that you can’t make it on the mats, then there is another option. Sit on the sidelines and watch a class and analyse what’s going on. It gives you a different perspective and you’d be surprised what you can learn by actively watching other students. It also means you're not distanced from the environment and, for me, one of the worst things about any long-term injury is that it can distance you from the environment, not just in physical terms but also in mental terms. This way, you're at least involved in some capacity and you’ll be less worried about coming back because you haven’t really been away.

iv) Listen to your body!
The human body is an amazingly complex organic machine, honed over (depending on your point of view) millions of years of evolution and the process of natural selection… or some deity who likes smiting, dislikes homosexuals and sits on a cloud. The body has a beautiful system of pain receptors and neurons that fire pain messages to the brain. So don’t think you can ‘man up’ and train through these messages if they are repeatedly registering. One injury can often lead to another because the body is compensating for the bit of it that doesn’t work at the moment. Do not make matters worse by letting your ego override the clear messages that something else is wrong. Stop it idiot!

v) Strapping!
Supports, strapping and taping is something I’ve had to get quite good at over the past decade and a bit, and the science behind it is now much more widely available thanks to the inter-web-net. Finding a way to support an injury can make the difference between training and not training. This is something that’s definitely worth exploring if you haven’t done so. Just make sure it’s a credible source giving the advice. Please see earlier comment about Doctor Google and homeopathy frauds. A nettle and a vial of wee cannot cure a fucking brain tumour. Cousin JimBob’s YouTube channel where he shows you how to wrap a calf strain with a bloody rag, then he introduces you to his wife and his mum who are the same person, is probably not as good as a more recognised expert either.

I think that’s about it. The only other thing I would add is not to give up hope or get too frustrated. I’ve had bad injuries and I know many people who’ve had much worse injuries. If training is the thing, then injuries are only a thing. They are part and parcel of martial arts training and most martial arts students I have had the pleasure of training alongside for any length of time have an injury story.

So work out what you can do and do what you can do, but don’t push too hard and too fast.

That is also excellent advice for sexual injuries, too. But I am a multi-tasker.

Monday, May 15, 2017

Foot Drop: Part V...


Another day and another fucking foot injury. This time, it's on my working foot and it's called planta fasciitis, which is fucking agony. It's basically acute heel pain and it feels like somebody is stabbing the nerve that runs under your foot with a Stanley knife.

On the plus side, this should only be bad for a few weeks then it should slowly start to heal, so at least it shouldn't be too bad for too long. It just means I have to concentrate on walking. This is very strange because walking is a thing you take for granted.

I was bemoaning my feet injuries to the Other Woman and explaining how it meant I was a bit of a grumpy fucker at home. I also pointed out I don't want the Missus to be lumbered with 'a spastic who drags her down'.

It was at this point that the Other Woman pointed out: 'But she already is!'

And I was so nice about her not needing to lose weight. It's the last time that happens.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Happy Birthday...


I turned 48 last week. Birthdays for me are usually a time of reflection and planning rather than celebration, so I worked out where I am and started working out where I want to be as I approach 50. 

Here are some thoughts...
i) I still want to be married and happy.
ii) I still want to be doing martial arts.
iii) I still want to be playing pool.
iv) I want to spend less time at work.
v) I want to spend more time writing. 

What this list tells me is that I am pretty content with my lot. Work may veer between toxic and awful and stressed but acceptable, but it does pay an OK wage. And everything else is generally fab. I just need to routine the writing and I am golden.

I think the 18-year-old version of me would be pretty happy with the version he saw 30 years later. And not just because he actually woke up with a woman who sometimes let him do rude stuff. And didn't charge him.

Friday, April 14, 2017

Customer Service...




I recently had a problem with a Venum rucksack I bought from Made4Fighters.com, a website and company that specialises in supplying all things martial arts.

Even though the warranty period had expired on the bag, the company did everything they could to contact the bag manufacturer and I ended up with a brand new bag. This was great customer service from both Made4Fighters.com and Venum and it cheered me up. 

It particularly cheered me up that two smaller companies went above and beyond to keep a customer happy... in the same week that Royal Mail and Virgin Trains demonstrated a total lack of care and consideration when trying to resolve an issue with a shit delivery service and replacing missing tickets, involving designated seats on a designated train.

Made4Fighters.com and Venum are both fabulous. Thanks very much to them. 

Royal Mail and Virgin Trains, however, clearly don't give a flying fuck about their customers. If either of the latter were a person, I'd shit in their mouths and sew their lips together. Then watch until they swallowed.

Foot Drop: Part IV...


At last. Some good news. I have seen a neorologist and he thinks the nerve damage is unlikely to be the early signs of MS. This is a major win. It was always an unlikely scenario, but having that particular fear rattling through my head for 10 weeks has not been a pleasant experience.

After much extensive prodding and poking and examining, he is pretty sure it's nerve damage to the fibular nerve. He is also quite optimistic that he can eventually repair it, though he has warned me that it may be a six-month process.

Neither of us still have any idea how it has happened. Generally, if i pick up an injury, it tends to be martials arts related. But I usually know pretty immediately if I have done something because the pain is instant. I am also good at monitoring my body for signs of wear and tear and knowing when to rest or protect something.

So I am now facing more tests and scans and examinations and other bits and bobs. I will also have some form of orthapaedic support for my foot. But there is forward momentum and, at some point, I will be fully mobile again.

In the meantime, I'll train what I can when I feel good enough to do it and not beat myself up if I can't train at the regularity and with the intensity I want to.

My martial arts journey is not over yet and I feared it may have been. It's just going to be taking a few quite side roads for a while...

Foot Drop: Part III...


Hospital waiting rooms are often pretty grim places and this one is no exception. But ill and injured people waiting to be diagnosed are probably not the happiest campers in the world.

There's also the additional thinking time, where all the worst case scenarios can run through your head. For me, these are irreparable foot injury and MS. Anything else will be a bonus.

So it's now a case of waiting. My life could be about change. I am trying to remain positive and see any outcome as a new beginning rather than an end. But it is quite a tough lie to maintain. It's also really tiring trying to be upbeat when you largely feel like getting angry and crying.

Frankly, I am well fucking bored with this.

Thursday, March 30, 2017

Sheffield...


As a comic-obsessed teenager, I used to make regular pilgrimages from my home town of Goole in East Yorkshire to Sheffield. The South Yorkshire capital had an excellent comic shop and Goole did not, so it was a happy trip with happy memories.

Apart from the time I got caught bunking off school on my birthday and I got put on report. That was less good. 

I haven't been back to Sheffield for 30 years so a recent trip was an eye opener. The main two things that struck me were as follows:
I) The streets are filled with marauding gangs of unemployed male strippers, desperate to do a dance for you. One of the poor sods was so desperate that he offered to take all his clothes off to a Kajagoogoo song of my choosing just for a bite of my sandwich.
II) The hotel I stayed at had a large events room at the back and caped keyboard wizard Rick Wakeman and Tory-loving racist comedian Jim Davison were two of the turns on offer, with a four-course lunch and a chance for photos.

One of those things is actually true.

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Back on the Baize: Part I...

This year, I've returned to playing competitive pool for my county pool team after taking four years off, and it's been an enjoyable return so far. 

In match one, I played in the B Team and played the maximum four frames. I played well in a couple of them, but I was pretty ropey in the other two. However, I got lucky and won all four.

In match two, I was promoted to the A Team and I played pretty well, but I missed chances to win two frames that I would normally have put away. I comfortably won the other two frames, though, with the final one coming at a critical time when the team was 20-22 down. 

At my best, I am a good county A Team player. But I'm still feeling my way back into it a bit, so I'm not at my best. I'm also having to relearn match pacing, how to stay focused during the day, and how to keep a consistent approach and rhythm.

I am putting some proper time in, though, and it will pay dividends at some point this year. With my foot injury looking medium to long term, I need something to focus my energies into that isn't too strenuous. 

It's good to have this long-term love. It's like spending time with a good friend you haven't seen for a while.

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Foot Drop: Part II...


One of the benefits of having a swatted foot is that I'll need some type of walking aid to help my mobility. So I am currently looking at hand-carved walking sticks. 

I want something that is both beautiful and weaponisable. It could be a long search. 

In other news, I also have a new thing that has arrived from nowhere. It's an underactive thyroid gland, so I'm now on medication for life if I want to void fatigue, depression, nausea, constipation, lifeless hair and irregular periods. That last one may not apply to me.

It's nothing major and it affects one in 50 women and one in 1000 men. The fact that I am the one in 1000 men is obviously a blow to my masculinity as it suggests I am part-woman. The Missus says this makes me 'special'. I fear it was not a compliment, though.

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Foot Drop: Part I...


It would seem the comedy injury with the medieval name isn't quite the japery-filled laugh I previously thought.

Because there's no obvious site or cause of injury causing the foot drop, there's some concern that it is nerve damage. And because there's no obvious site or cause of injury, there's concern the nerve damage may be caused by something else.

The best-case scenario is it's something the GP's missed that is trapping or damaging a nerve, and this can be fixed and I will eventually have full movement and motor control back of my foot. The middle ground is that the damage is permanent and this is it, so I'll have to negotiate having a twatted foot for the rest of my life. The worst-case scenario is some quite grim shit, which opens up a whole new set of fun possibilities. 

So I'm now waiting to be tested. 

To add insult to injury, I've also had flu to pile on top of the exhaustion and stress from work, and a vicious allergy attack paid a visit as well. I feel broken, my body is in revolt and I really don't like it. At night, I lay in bed, like a shit Uma Thurman when the bride has escaped the hospital in Kill Bill, willing movement in my foot.

To be perfectly frank, I have had better weeks than this. The last seven days can, quite frankly, fuck the fuck off.

Monday, January 30, 2017

Other Woman News...

Tonight was an all-too-rare night training at hapkido, followed by an hour in the pub with the Other Woman.

I am currently carrying an injury with the excellent name of Foot Drop. I like this because it sounds vaguely Middle Ages. The upshot of this, however, is that I cannot control half of the movement in my right foot, so my hapkido looks even less fluid and graceful than usual, regardless of the lack of regular class attendance.

In the pub, however, it was business as usual and topics covered included:
Oral sex and teddy bears
Meat Loaf and al fresco sex
Bothying and murder
Hollowed-out corpses and sleds
Cadavers and games of Name That Tune

The Other Woman remains one of the people I love most in the world. Few other people would encourage, inspire and create this type of illuminating discourse. Fact.

Happy Anniversary...

Me and the Missus recently celebrated 20 years together.

To mark the occasion, we spent several days in New York and we took the Boy and the Boy's Girlfriend with us. After all, he's he's a big part of our story together and they celebrate their anniversary on the same date, too.

We had a fab time and we did loads: a Nicks basketball game, lots of meals out, Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, American Museum of Natural History, Central Park, Chinatown... We also headed to Brooklyn and visited Brooklyn Museum, which was an astonishingly good place with a world-class Egyptian collection and some amazing feminist art.

With the demands of my job currently insane, it was good to have some serious time with my family. We created good memories on this trip and these will sustain me through tough work times ahead.

The other thing that will sustain me is the thing that has always supported and sustained me. And that's the love of not just a good woman, but the love of the best person I know. And I've been blessed enough to have her in my life for two decades.

She's smarter than I am, tougher than I am and probably even prettier. She is without doubt the great love of my life and the best thing in it. And I hope she remains so every single day.

Sunday, January 15, 2017

American Hustle...


History have done some pretty cool shows in recent years and they have successfully moved away from the idea that the channel only does documentaries about Hitler or UFOs. The pirate drama series, Black Sails, garnered rave reviews, and Vikings has been an international hit and is now well into its fourth series.

Ronnie O'Sullivan's American Hustle is one of the latest shows from History and it looks like it will be very good. 

The premise is simple: snooker champion O'Sullivan and TV pundit pal Matt Smith travel across the USA and visit four cities, namely New York, Chicago, Memphis and San Francisco; while there, they explore the local area, then head to the pool hall and take on the local champions to see if O'Sullivan can transfer his snooker skills to the similar-but-different arena of the US pool table.

The show is part-travelogue and part-pot-athon. It also features a host of infamous characters from the world of US pool, including Earl 'The Pearl' Strickland, 'Kid' Delicious, Johnny 'The Scorpion' Archer, Jeanette 'The Black Widow' Lee and Scott 'The Freezer' Frost.

The four-part series kicks off on Thursday 26 January. O'Sullivan genuinely looked like he'd thoroughly enjoyed the experience when he was discussing it at a press event, too.

Great TV Shows That Nearly Were: Part VI...

This game is slowly developing a life of its own. This happened with another idea I had for a game show, Call My Muff, which I actually made and road-tested with a group of friends while drunk. I really should approach a games manufacturer with this idea as I'm sure it's a goer.

But that was then and this is now, so here are the latest entries for Great TV Show That Nearly Were: 

Gash in the Attic: A team of experts aid money-hungry participants by exploring their lofts and outbuildings in the hope of finding a relative they can pimp out on the streets to raise funds to pay for a holiday or some other such nonsense.
 
Home and a Gay: Aussie soap opera following the folk of Summer Gay, who ironically are a town of redneck homophobes. Their views are challenged, though, when a prodigal son returns home and announces he now likes Borises rather than Dorises.
 
Dad's Barmy: Classic homage to a popular sitcom. This time, the dads in question are all living in sheltered accomodation in 2017. But they're suffering various types of dementia and think they're fighting the Germans in World War Two. It's bittersweet. Probably.