Carnival of Pandemonium

 So this was a tough day. I HAVE to rent a house out- it's not because I want to be a property mogul. I definitely do not. It does not align with my beliefs to own a house that I don't live in. Anyway this house has cost me a fortune and today was no different. Numerous jobs to pay for and late rental payments. When these things are added up it equals massive stress for me. I'm just not cut out for this kind of thing- I can't stand the worry. I am very glad that hopefully it will be gone soon.  Anyway. Never mind about that, I had a lovely walk next to the brook this evening. The sun was beautifully low which creates some amazing light. Especially when it shines through the flowers and tall grasses. It makes me feel happy. This happiness is multiplied when I am listening to my fave 90s songs. Walking really is something I like. It took away all of the worries mentioned earlier on. The Lightning Seeds are a group that need revision. They are amazing. 

 This was very much a normal day. I went for a walk after Rupe went to sleep- I usually plan to do 3 miles but I could only manage a derisory 2- which means I am even further behind in my quest to walk a 1000 miles in 2022. I am about 30 miles behind where I should be. I thought I saw a kestrel standing atop a lamp post but on closer inspection, it turned out to be just a lowly wood pigeon.  Spoke to Paul today at work about attracting birds to the garden. He said sunflower hearts are the best for smaller birds. This could explain why none have come yet- again only wood pigeons have arrived. I shall make sure I buy some sunflower hearts at the weekend and put them out. We'll see if it works. Paul said he can't move for robins and goldfinches now. Personally, I find them ungrateful turning my food down. Was thinking about art next year, specifically sculpture. I remembered a wire man that we made in Year 6- Exitus Burgundy as it was actually called- we made the skeleton from wir

 1- 2 miles. Calf went 

 Suddenly, before I knew it, I found myself hurtling towards Jessica's house seemingly at the speed of light inside my Dad's clapped out Datsun Cherry. I didn't even know that the old banger could even travel at this speed. Secretly I was quite impressed, and of course a little bit scared- both of what might happen and just how quickly my Dad could shift when he wanted to. It had all been a bit of a blur- twenty minutes ago I was on the park- fair enough it hadn't been amongst my top five pleasantest park visits of all time but still- now I was sitting opposite Lewis Hamilton. The same question kept playing over and over again in my mind... how on earth had this happened??? Well, it sort of started like this. It was a normal afternoon on the park straight after school. I know I should have been revising for my end of year exams but, to be honest, it was sunny and frankly, I couldn't be bothered. Then all of a sudden... "Hey...Hey..." I pretended not to hea

 I’ve been for approximately the last 24 hours that I know of. Although it isn’t anything serious thankfully- just a bout of D and V, it felt absolutely horrific. I literally could not even keep water down and didn’t attempt food.  The sickness was awful and felt like I was throwing up my own pelvis bone- Brass Eye reference there- and I must have been sick approximately 20 times. I would not recommend this illness to a friend.  My problem now is that I am scared to eat. I can now keep water down, but I’ll keep you updated on my progress. Unfortunately, my wife also has caught this bug too… luckily my little boy has already had it 

 The town was beset by a terrible famine. There was no food for the people. No one had any money. Well, almost no one. There was a big hill and on top of the hill lived a mean old man. He had stacks of money. He kept it all in crates and counted it ever day. He loved money and only money. He had been married, but his wife left on account of his Scrooge like ways. Even his own children left him alone.  The townspeople often came to beg for money- but his answer was always the same. A firm no.  A new man moved into town. He also had lots of money. But this man was different. He always smiled. When people begged for money, he shared it. He shared so much that he gave all of his money away and made the townspeople very happy.  He’d saved their lives and whenever he needed help, there were many people to lend a hand. He lives in luxury forever.  When the cruel man grew older, his money couldn’t help him. It was useless. Nobody would help. When his house cracked, nobody helped. When he was s

 I’m addicted to junk food. There you go I said it. I can’t help it. I can’t stop eating it. No I probably won’t lose my house, car or family over it but I am addicted to junk food. It might not be as destructive as alcohol or drugs but I am addicted to junk food. That’s three times I’ve said it.  I sneak downstairs at midnight and literally stuff my face with crisps. I can’t get them into my mouth quickly enough. I love the feeling of my mouth being full of crisps. I literally inhale packets and packets every sitting- sometimes eight packets.  The thing is I want to stop- I’ve seen the pictures of me- but I can’t. I literally love eating them so much. But I know I should stop but I simply can’t. I have no idea what to do next 

 What have I done today to feel proud? We’ll look at my posts over the last few days and you could say writing about utterly garbage! Farty and a light switch. These are all things though. Things I’ll eventually look back on and remember- maybe it’ll be vital because everything may have changed.  When I asked the above question, first of all I said to myself not a lot. I’ve only been to work. Only. I should have said I’ve helped 30 other people and provided support as well. When I came home I helped my little boy as he was feeling ill- a tough time for everyone. I’ve been with my daughter too. That’s only the things I can think of quickly.  I’m trying to say we do loads of tiny things in a day that we should be proud of- let’s celebrate the little things. 

 It was late at night. Nobody quite knew the time. Well I did because it was at the top of my iPhone screen. But I’m not sharing that. Anyway that isn’t important. I looked at the tiled wall. It was one of the better finishes of the house. The grouting was of a high standard. Worlds best grouter me! I imagined the burly tiler to say to his mates as they used my kitchen as a fart container. I wouldn’t know if this was true as I didn’t live there when this may or may not have happened. I can’t currently detect any stench so my only evidence is that he wasn’t a human pump machine. Might have been a woman. Unlikely though. That’s not sexist, just pure stats. Data.  Fixed to the farty tile face was the worlds smallest radiator. Like a postage stamp. I nearly licked it and stuck it to a letter then stuck it in the pillar box. Glad I didn’t. I have smelt farty and his extra work. Plus my bathroom would be cold. The dial is set to 3. Who decided how hot cold or medium 3 is? Who are they to dec

 The ugly square metallic box stuck out markedly from the wall. They hadn’t even recessed it into the plasterwork so with the white plastic pipe protruding from the top the whole thing looked like it belonged in a factory.  Although maybe that would be quite fitting. They come in first of all full of energy, then we exert our will over a period of time and slowly that smile starts to disappear.  Around the light fitting then familiar cold blue paint had been smeared on. Daubed on if we’re honest. Some bits were still white where screw holes had been filled or boards moved. It needed ripping down and starting again. 

 So I sat in my chair today wondering what on Earth I was doing with my life. Yes I have a nice job that I enjoy but what have I actually got to show for it?  What am I actually doing with my life? Well as the scrambled through Google searching for the answer I decided to commit to 20 minutes writing a day. Maybe I’ll become a fully fledged writer who knows? 

 Yes the easiest writing is what you know about.  Yes! I finally have it! I’ll just write about what I know! Now what do I know about? Hmmm. There must be something. Oh yes that’s it! Oh no it’s gone again. I know about my work. But who on Earth would read about my work? Work people that’s who. But they’re all reading Dan Brown prattling on over imaginary Holy Grails.  Write your life story! Now I could write all day and night about this. But who the hell would read my story? I’m a nobody.  So I don’t know anything except work and I’m nowhere near famous enough to write my life story and then expect someone to actually read it…  Hmmm. I’m stuck now…. I was born in Bury, Lancashire (I reject Greater Manchester as a county. I don’t care what the council say) in 1984… 

 I turned the silver metallic key in between my thumb and forefinger.  Aaaaaah. It’s gripped.  The faithful green shutters whirred into life, rising to the top of the window like the metallic angels they were. I held and paused. They clanked and halted at the top.  Sunshine shone in. No that’s a lie frankly. Light shone in. A new day. Moist blobs fell from the sky, settling on the green mossy canvass outside. I looked up at the slate grey sky. It’s raining. Typical. Good for the gardens I thought. Fuck all for anyone else though.  I repeated this twice more. The weather was the same through each opening. Dull. Damp. Wet. Northern. The featureless red brick housing, also damp, gazed back at me. We were both looking for answers. None of us could give any.  I opened the windows despite the cold. I closed them again. Clonvide rules finished ages ago. I found my worn out blue chair and started. 

 Ahhhhh. I said as I pressed send on my latest blogpost.  Your post has been published… my faithful computer told me. I won’t check the views straight away I thought. Although no need to worry… this content is viral. I meant the around the globe type. Not Ebola.  Triumph carried me to the kitchen. My feet slapped on the vinyl floor like two pieces of ham. Successful ham. I meandered to the kettle. That stout bastion of the culinary world was about to be called into action. The soldier like utensil roared into life like a static steam engine with one firm press of a button. I slammed some coffee- roasted in Brazil- into my mug. A big mug for a big boy. As the steam billowed out I nodded, contemplating my blog views. I poked my head through the steam like I was on Stars in Their Eyes, waved at my crowd and began pouring. Clear water turned muddy brown, the aroma stung my nostrils. Disappointment spread over me now. It never smelt like Tarbugs or Costsalot, or even Cafe Nervous for that m

 Back to work today. The break was nice- a week off in the sunshine and sometimes rain. Ate lots of food that’s bad for me, but bad is good. Even had a few drinks. Alcoholic.  Old place hadn’t changed much. Same old blue corridors. How long would they be blue for I wondered.  I stepped over the yellow painted step and into my room. I could tell the person who’d painted it had really taken a pride in it. So pristine. So precise. You could definitely see they’d used masking tape- the border edging was so neat, so defined. This was the work of a real tradesman. I wondered for a second if they’d given it two coats instead of the customary one. With the heavy traffic clattering over it I guessed it must have been two. At least two. Maybe even three. This would mean it would have taken three days to completely dry as well. It must have been done over a break.  I didn’t think about it again. I just went into my room and opened my shutters with the wall key. The yellow was very Hacienda