Jane Spond, Licensed to trill.

Bond is dead, long live Jane Spond:

Sheiken not Stirred

By

Sian Flobbing

The names Spond, Jane Spond. Her boss is called Ahem and her secretary is Miss Minifanny an Albino midget from littleuania. They all work at “Am I Sex” a very secret orgasmisation dedicated to eradicating all forms of hairyism.

Spond is the top urgent designated double DD, she is all top and is licensed to trill, she’s quite a bird. Many have come before her but she is used to that and carries plenty of tissue. she carries a Waltham TKMaxx card which is really a skinny pistol and although her car is an Austin Maestro it too doubles as a speedboat an aeroplane and a space ship if that sounds farfetched it shouldn’t as the car is often “fetched” from afar usually by the RAC (Really Annoying Car club) “Cue” (head of the car Pool) has told Spond it is unreliable and she should upgrade to the new Audi Doody or one day the Maestro will fail and get her killed but Spond is fond of her Maestro and always says goodbye to the Audi Doody.

On her last mission she was sent to “Sockshop” to search out hairy feet but instead went “T’Iraq” and came back with a silk seven fold so she was sent to the Spycholigist for evaluation on her directions. His name was Max Speed and he didn’t hang about. He had lots of maps in his office but he decided to erect one and ask her what it was, she said “ooh, that’s a hard one” he wasn’t keen on smut so he decided to have her on the couch and ask her some probing questions. Spond was well prepared for any assault and peppered him with responses. Spond knew there was a “Double entendre” working at AM I Sex and had a feeling it was Speed. After what seemed like hours but was in fact only a minute, Speed stopped pumping her and fell back exhausted. She had him licked . He finished with a mumbled question that sounded like “I take it you’re a whore” she said “come again”! “I can’t take it anymore”!! He decided to pass her as fit for work and left quickly. As Spond returned to duty she was called to the office of Ahem. Spond always had a little joke with Miss Minifanny before she entered Ahems office and today was no different. Miss Minifanny, I have 2 tickets to the Circus……………………what time are you on? Over the loudspeaker Ahem said, Spond, enough of that Tomthumbery get in here now! Minifanny felt the whole world was at her.

Now look here Spond, there has been a development. The sock Shop sold to Sheik Shalik the sixth sheik of Seven Sisters. “What was that” said Spond, “don’t take the piss Spond, I couldn’t possibly repeat that”! You must get over there straight away. Spond said “Address” Ahem said no, I think it’s called a Jalabba or something why? No “Address” repeated Spond. wear what you want Spond but he lives at Sheik Shalik seventy-seven shipside chalets seven sisters. Impressive said Spond, can you do “the sixth Sheik’s sixth sheep’s sick”? “Get out Shpond” shouted Ahem!

Ahem tolerated Spond because she was a big hitter, the double “DD” made that quite clear and she knew whatever knockbacks Spond received she would always bounce back. But this situation with an Arab taking over the sock-shop worried her, was the Sheik footing the bill for all the disgruntled hairy footed men and providing a cover? Something was afoot and Spond was the only one able to sexually shakedown the Sheik. Ahem had the Royal family on at her since she didn’t discover Di and Dodi doing dastardly dirty do do’s despite diplomatic disapproval. She was in no mood to get tongue tied with another Arab atrocity.

Spond closed the door behind her and walked quietly past Minifanny. Minifanny knew Spond was worried, mainly because Spond had a worried look on her face and Minifanny had eyes……………..Suddenly Spond swiveled round and said “Minifanny, I am going to need the “midget” sub for this mission, can you also tell Cue I am going to need a “little” something to “minimize” the impact of the “small” army the Sheik has? Minifanny never found Spond’s “minipuns” funny but Spond’s intellect dwarfed hers. Again Ahems voice came over the intercom and said “enough of the small-talk” Spond, get over to Midgets, er I mean gadgets! Minifanny was fuming. But she just sat there and continued stroking the small white pussy in her lap……no one knew much about Miss Minifanny other than that she came from a small town in Littleuania where they were well known for very good shorthand and for that reason as well as being very portable, she was accepted into Am I Sex.

Spond walked over to “Gadgets” and entered in time to find Cue just chalking up what looked like a complicated numerical equation on a very dark-board. What is that asked Spond? Cue replied, “it’s a very complicated equation, you wouldn’t understand”! Spond said “sod u Cue” Cue said oh very funny Spond, and told her to follow him to the testing lab. Cue’s assistant was David Doubleday, a man with a disastrous stutter but a brilliant talent for spoken Morse code. Cue told him to hurry Spond along as there was much to do. “C’mon DDDurrDDDDurrDDDouble DDDurrDDDDDDDee, dddddddddddddon’t tttttttouch anything it muuuuurmmmuuuuurrrmmmmmay bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbe dddddddddddddddddddangerous! Spond could never resist turturturturtaking the purrpurrrpurrrpiss out of Doubleday. Ahem want’s you to call him this afternoon and remind him of the Sheiks address!

Once into the Lab Cue called Spond and told him to pay attention as he would say it only once, Spond said “What once”? Cue said “what I am about to say”! Spond asked why he never said it twice as that would surely have more impact! Cue could feel himself but then so could all the other men, that didn’t worry Spond, they were well known for their cocky manner over at Gadgets, fiddling around all day with their bits and Bob’s, she never understood what was so special about “Bob’s”!

In the far corner of the lab was a new car, Spond was aghast! Where was her beloved Maestro? What she saw was a gleaming black Fevawi, my god Cue! It looks like a cross between a Ferrari and a VW Camper? “Very good Spond, that is exactly what it is. But don’t worry, its not for you, its for my ever diminishing vacation time. I find I can take a very quick camping holiday and be back in time for more of your foolishness”! yours is over there……………..we took your Austin Maestro and “tweaked it” a little. New chassis new engine new body new interior new electrics and mechanicals. Spond said “you didn’t leave much”! Cue replied “we left the bonnet badge”! Cue continued………” it is actually now officially called a Q car or more specifically a VBPS- VanBenPlaS 1. And what exactly does that mean said Spond. It means “Very Big Penis Substitute” it also has a fantastic pair of hooters which we thought you’d appreciate? Does it have an erector seat asked Spond. Wouldn’t have thought “you” would need one of those Spond, given your Double D status. Well, I suppose you like to keep abreast or two of the new gadgetry eh! Cue said with a big smile on his face. Spond was rapidly losing the high ground so decided to act, it wasn’t a very good rendition of Macbeth and left Cue and DDDDDDDDDoubleday speechless. Doubleday took Sponds hand and walked over to the car, Spond said “hey, come back with that, I need both hands to throttle your sssssstupid little face” Ahhh, the prosthetic hand still slipping off now and then eh Spond” said Cue. Spond had lost her hand when playing poker with a particularly nasty Hairyist called “hand chopper Hans” but she got her own back a few years later, he is now just called Hand Hans!

Spond had enough of these 2 clowns so she leaped into the car and said “I can’t waste anymore time on this, I have to get to Sheik Shalik at Shipside Chalets he has bought Sock-shop, there’s something afoot and I have to put the boot in. if I don’t stop this one Ahem will have my Double D’s double quick and I will be reduced to training BRA (Before Real Action) Miss Minifanny will make a mockery of me.

As Spond squeezed the acceleratometer she noticed a red button that said “Over-Hyper Super Heated Induction Turbo” she pressed it just before entering a dead end street. The last thing to go through her head was the Maestro bonnet badge. Cue just said “I told her that Maestro would do for her one day.

The end.

What women want?

What women want, in a nutshell

Ok, the title? Let's dispel this little myth straight away. What women want, does NOT come in any nutshells, it is more likely found in the “Seychelles” I could stop there but that would be a generalisation which again let's be honest, they “never do”!

Women want you to lie but they also want you to tell the truth. If this sounds confusing it is probably because it is and is meant to be. A man who knows what his woman wants is of no further use where starting pointless arguments is concerned. This is where IKEA comes in handy as women seem to love the place despite most of the rubbish sold there being distinctly designed for a bachelor pad. (note, the owner of IKEA is a bloke called Olafson or something similar it really doesn’t matter except for the fact that he decides what you want and gives you choices that are all scarily similar) When she asks you “Do you like that one” and you reply “Yes” she will probably say, “you don’t like it do you”? and you may reply “No, not really I prefer that one” she will then very likely start to tell you why it doesn’t work with the rest of the design of the house and refer to one of the plethora of “Male” TV interior designers and what “they” think. You should, at this point make the realisation that although you “have” testicles, they are surplus to your role in matters pertaining to “design” even though just about everything you see around you was designed by a pair of testicles.

Regarding your woman's arse, this is a very tricky area for many reasons. Firstly, despite it being of elephantine proportions “she” will require you to have a certain degree of blindness or be “Buttocksighted” This may, of course, prove virtually impossible if you have relegated yourself to the “walk behind” position adopted by many males these days (more on that later) you may at this point be wondering why the jeans manufacturers don’t just put the crotch somewhere around the knee area as there hasn’t been a gap from that point up for some time, make sure you keep that thought totally private “she” has no idea you noticed as borne out by the many times you didn’t “Notice” the wash and blow dry she had so many times before that cost some 27.50 at a “salon” owned by....................a bloke! With regard to the colour “Grape” (unfound anywhere on earth other than on a “Grape” really, it looks lovely, the glaring fact that it makes her face akin to that of Nosferatu is simply “You” “Everyone else” thinks it looks great too and bear in mind that as “hair” doesn’t get “Fat” she can look at it all day and never have doubts?

With regard to her southern bound body, you should present a little latitude here. It happens to nearly all of them, only those who do not let it happen are immune, even if that means reducing the quantity of sugar-laden carbohydrates and doing a little exercise, she “doesn’t want to do it” and “You” need to understand her right to become a double weeble. Should you NOT accept it you must be fully prepared to pay for some serious cosmetic surgery along with some serious cosmetics. Obviously, this doesn’t come cheap! But as you have been reliably informed by the skinny stunner on the telly “She’s worth it”! or you continue to play the “you look just like you did when I met you” game and give some consideration to the unlikely possibility that it is “your eyes” that are developing a perception defect. I have never tried it but “My god you look fat” and then “I must get my eyes seen to” may, just may be a clever move. Do not under any circumstances say, as I once heard a mate say, when told “you never say anything nice to me” by his now ex-girlfriend “You don’t sweat much for a fat lass”! it is critical for the well being of “man” kind as a whole to maintain the “men like a bit of flesh” despite the media thrusting the complete opposite in front of you every day. You should ignore the fashion world’s feeble attempt to show “the larger lass” in sideshows, it is a fad that will go away unlke your partners desire to stuff her face with whatever has “naughty but nice” stuck to it. (btw, that does NOT include you! You are just a bastard)

Eddie Reader sang a song called “tell me a beautiful lie” this was a mean and cruel trick. If you try this tack you will undoubtedly come unstuck. To a woman there is no such thing as a “beautiful lie” there are simply lies and whatever you say about why you came home late from work will NOT be believed, she will know instantly because you “never” smile and give her a kiss when you get home. The mistake here is that “you” decided when to lie, never do this, always wait for her cue as to when a lie may be called for, she will of course have contempt for you when you do it even though you are in a very confused state and given little choice, the dress she is trying on needs to have your coerced approval and a lie in those circumstances is a must.

Television can be a very challenging medium for many reasons but one of the most likely flashpoints will be where “celebrities” or sports-people are concerned. In the 100 meters male race it is perfectly normal and acceptable for her to marvel at the flip flop of a 10 inch unslung lycra-clad dick but obviously, and you should not even have to think why, it is not even remotely similar to delight at the rhythmic rise and fall of a similarly clad pair of mufflers, equally the film where Brad pitt or Daniel Craig gratuitously remove their tops and don skimpy trunks is an artistic necessity for the plot of the film whereas trying to catch a glimpse of titty in the Nivea shower lotion ad is gratuitous sex, even though it is “aimed at your partner!” the psychology behind this is very clever. One may be forgiven for thinking “surely if they want “HER” to buy this lotion they should show a bloke in the shower”? nope! They know full well “you” will get caught ogling and then that means she can punish you by purchasing this overpriced useless chemical. What can you say? You did say “wow look at that” when the advert came on and even though you tried to explain you meant the lather she had you pegged. You may want to memorise this rhyme for future safety: “Flopping Schlong, nothing wrong. Bouncing tits means big hits”

Hormones and menopause:

This is not such a complicated situation as you may think. Hormones are depressing, she doesn’t particularly enjoy it either but it is your duty as a loving husband to help yourself as much as possible when this much misunderstood natural event happens. It is “Much misunderstood”! what the fuck more do you need to be told! Get the hell out of her way and do not come back until she is 75. If you somehow managed to evade death during the monthly hormonal attack you may well be entering the “Menopause” I think men have been getting the required reaction to this situation all wrong. It seems to me that it has been named thus “Men-O-Pause” to give you a hint as to the best course of action. Its a “Pause” for “Men”. Or, a period where you have been advised to leave, take a break, have a trial separation for the next 20 years.

Should you decide to stick around during this very difficult period of your life she will undoubtedly need you to “understand her” more than ever! Yep, I know, beggars belief eh! You just spent the last 30 years “failing miserably” to figure her out and now she goes and changes into something even more complicated and expects you to finally “get it”! well, let’s have a look at what you can expect to lose exclusive use of:

The “philishave or Gilette Mach 12” a “dry bed” any “description of how bloody hot you may feel” rather like when she gave birth and said you could NEVER understand the pain (despite the FACT that often they elect to go through this “Pain” again a few times whereas one kick in the nuts is enough to tell you you wouldn’t want another one!) you may have to try and get your head around the need for an extortionately priced concoction called “Royal Jelly” and “Evening primrose oil” both of which have been proven by those who make it, to be of some relief for her menopausal condition. Of course they don’t! You could sell her Tesco raspberry Jelly at this period of her life and she would believe it was helping but don’t think for a minute she will swallow your morning glory any more now than in the last thirty years! You may be wondering where the hell the hair on your head is going? It is a scientifically proven hypothesis that it migrates to her chin during the night hours.

It is quite possible that as menopause starts she will find a new sexual vigour that she will expect you to try and, but fail to, fulfil. This is why Viagra was invented. Obviously the only thing that finds a large hairy sweaty thing lying in the grass “attractive, is another gorilla but you must see past that sexist bullshit and persevere with the lie that has thus far been your life.

On an optimistic note, many women in their fifties are fantastic, you won’t actually find one willing to be with you but they ARE there I am unreliably informed.

The “weight” issue:

This is easily summed up in one short sentence. “There isn’t one”! ok, maybe a little elaboration. The “Issue” is with you and your great fat beer belly! Her slight increase in volume is entirely down to evolution (yeah, the evolution of fuckin cakes!) that with the fact you have failed miserably to make her happy and so Mr Cadbury came to the rescue, this seems odd to me because “I” can consume large portions of chocolate and remain relatively svelt, I am making the entirely unfounded suggestion that “Moving around a bit too” might have something to do with this phenomenon. Walking behind her is simply not done! Firstly because the sight of an enormous arse squeezed into jeans that stretch only the material and NOT the imagination is a depressing one and secondly because she absolutely knows you are using this vantage point to swivel whenever a younger slimmer female enters your peripheral vision. Of course you may save on shaving foam as your chin will clearly be scraping along the pavement signalling to everyone that you may not have a lead but it is there held firmly by the McDouble sized woman in front of you which will become even more apparent when you turn right into every shop she does! Do not do it! Walk proudly beside her and know that she is indeed “more than “A” woman. Hold her hand, it may save your wasted body from blowing away should a sudden breeze hit.

Very large women “can” be fun. For example there are few sights more gut-wrenchingly funny than seeing a Hattie Jaques sized lady fall on her butt and then attempt to get up. After you have stifled this hilarity welling up in your belly try and resist also the feeling you should help her up, hernia surgery is painful and as nearly all civilised towns have a fire brigade! Just remember to remind her how lovely she thought those muscly firemen were she was getting horny over before ;-) this perhaps one of the few and rare times “You” will be able to get your own back.

Before she gets to the stage where she has persuaded the long suffering doctor she is indeed “disabled” you may find you need to make a difficult decision regarding your car. You have two choices, either get a really expensive “Big” one with fancy self adjusting suspension or a rough old banger that you have no emotional attachment to. the big expensive one will make her feel great as her ears won’t be dragging on the tarmac and the banger will have a similar effect as it will confirm her belief you are a useless provider. Win win  the difficult time where transport is concerned is when the Dr finally gave up trying to advise her on weight issues and issued a medical certificate confirming she is “disabled” and in need of one of those electric scooters. You may have seen one? They were originally designed for people who “Couldn’t” walk due to being for example “Without legs”! or maybe “paralysed” through “Accident”! there will always be a certain degree of embarrassment when she rolls up to the cake shop and blocks the doorway whilst she buys a few kilos of gateaux. You can easily avoid this by selling the house and buying one just out of range of the battery life  the extreme downside of this new situation is that your days of “car dreaming” are over! You now need a vehicle suited to hauling both her AND the 500 kilo battery powered chair around and this is never going to be either pretty or exciting, its going to be a “Van”! there IS always an upside  and in this instance you now have a vehicle big enough to put whatever you “think” belongs to you, in, and fuck off to the Canary Islands. 

3:45am and sleep just ain’t happening. It is always the early hours that my mind starts working. I start to “analyse” and this time I was analysing “thinking”!

It has been said that “I think too much” usually accompanied by “and don’t DO enough”!! That makes me laugh. “Thinking” burns a huge amount of calories! Anyway, I was giving thinking some thought and it started to dawn on me (in more ways than one given the hour) that being an “analyst” isn’t such a bad thing, even unfettered analysis. I am well aware that my thought processes are a little random; I am also well aware that I allow my mind free reign and that it sometimes takes me to very odd places, but what is wrong with that? As I write this for example, there is no real direction! I just have a “thought” and want to see where it goes.

There are already “plenty” of minds working away in “One” area. Even on a metaphysical level, I have seen the effects of “restraining” the mind to one particular area of focus and I “think” that is folly.

A friend once explained the “cocktail effect” of food and all the other things we have around us like, deodorant, shampoo, soap, smoke, whatever. Tests carried out to decide what is “safe” to eat and in what combinations, give us a feeling of security when eating whatever it is, but, did these tests take into account the absorption of chemicals from your clothes, shampoo, deodorant? I think not! It would be impractical to carry out a test that took ALL permutations into account. Our bodies being an incredibly intricate organism can and do get affected by the tiniest of atoms/molecules and we don’t have a Scooby doo if it caused the Cancer we got or the allergy. So; I was doing this thinking and relating it to the capacity of the brain, and it’s potential. We all know it is said we only use a fraction of it and let’s be honest, some don’t even use that! Personally I believe that whatever “I” can “think” is possible. I don’t know why, but it seems to me that if I can “think it” it can be done! And I am not talking about becoming an X Factor star or making a million. It may sound arrogant but they are just simple mechanisms that are more or less “controlled” by a set of circumstances influenced by others. I met a guy here in Spain many years ago who had a yacht worth 300,000 pounds, he paid 120,000 for it and couldn’t get his head around the fact that if he wanted it re-upholstered, it would cost a load of money, “But I only paid 120k for it” he said, I replied, “yes, but it still has the maintenance of a 300k yacht”! he also bragged about, “having a 120k yacht and 250k in the bank” his bragging would be laughable if he was saying this to a man with a 200k yacht and half a million in the bank! His thinking was “limited” to numbers and costs, a very low being on the brains scale despite his reasonable financial wealth. Some would say yes, but he is being successful in “this” life! But if the person who designed his yacht had limited “His” thinking to the same level, he would not have had a yacht. All the people who make huge amounts of money are technically useless! It is the “creators” who are the worthy.

I thought about “facebook” and I thought, “What a fantastic opportunity for the human race to “connect” the biggest “family” possible. And then I thought about the internet in general and must admit, I think it is the most stunning thing to have ever happened to mankind! There isn’t anything off limits now the entire knowledge of human endeavour now available to everyone! And what is it used for mostly?.............”pornography” and social networking! (Which quite often become one and the same thing online) I am astounded that after so many years of this available technology, we haven’t progressed beyond inane social sites and Porn! Sure, there are people who do use it for the feeding of the grey cells, but not the vast majority of us. I think if we did, there would be no war, Cancer would have been eradicated, and the levels of intelligence in school leavers would have increased not “decreased”! (I am talking “en masse” here not the individuals who ARE developing)

Surely we can agree that “communication” is key to growing? If so, what are we using this magic to “communicate”? A load of puerile nonsense is what! “Mafia wars! “My friend answered a question about you” on facebook apps! “Farmyard”! “Bejewelled”!! What the fuck!  I am seriously hoping that one day soon, we will wake up to the potential the internet has given us and say “right, that was fun, diversion over, now let’s sort out the fucking mess we created” ( I am not going to hold my breath!)

My dream is that we very soon create a symbiosis between technology and ecology; it IS possible to have a “green planet” and an ubertechnical one and it IS known by those who organise us, but unless we tell them in much larger numbers than from the lobby of small groups, they will ignore it. At the moment it is “too fucking slow”!

When a disease is in a tree, it is no good pruning a visibly affected limb, you need to uproot the bastard and burn it!

Its 5am and I just went up to try and grab a couple of hours and the moment my head hit the pillow… the bloody floodgates opened!

I tried to imagine what it would take for there to be a major shift in consciousness. Bearing in mind the shift of which I speak is heavily biased towards peace and positive human growth, and I thought about the 60’s and the peace and love movement. “There were millions of them”! Fucking millions of people all wanting peace and harmony and love and a better world! The music? All about banning wars and love and peace and shit, “Man”! What the hell happened?? I tell you what happened; they were all stoned! A few went off and lived true to their beliefs and the rest capitulated and became accountants and office bod’s they continued getting stoned and it all fizzled out like a damp squib. And the machine marched on, weapons got smarter Banks got richer, and a drive to find “instant” pleasure thrived. “There” was an opportunity to galvanise a change in consciousness that was missed or defeated! We got some great Art out of it, and Music and some cracking books, probably got a lot of herpes and HPV too as a result of “free love”! “Enlightened relationships” and what have you. My feeling? I don’t think being “peaceful” about change works. We have sat around for 60 years watching Arab countries be ruled by despot’s dictators and tyrants and we have allowed it to go on so we could get “Oil”, now the people have had enough and are doing the ONLY thing that works to any degree, and it ain’t “peaceful”! The west didn’t help over the last 60 years but now we want to help them? We didn’t supply any of them “despot or revolutionary” with the means to create a peaceful solution, we provided both sides with guns and bombs! It was a cast iron gold plated inevitability they would use them, and bet your last one “a few people” will get even richer off the back of it. Hey, I am no Einstein but doesn’t it seem incredibly simple to you too! And if so, why are you not (for those who aren’t) using the social network to make a noise about it? Do you think it won’t make any difference? Well, the social network managed to get enough support and pressure to get an abused Elephant released from the scum that were “caring” for it!

Take a look at Ian Puddick on facebook, this guy was/is being terrorised by the murder squad and terrorist squad for ………..”Grassing up an adulterer to his employers”! And he has…………….662 supporters on his facebook. Now I think we can do better than that surely?

As usual, my mind and thoughts run too fast for me to elucidate effectively. Why there are always 2 or 3 threads running through it at the same time is beyond me but it has been so for 35 years and it does not look like it is going to take a break.

The eye of the beholder

Being, as I am, a kind of social voyeur (some call it anthropology) I often find myself drawn to the less salubrious publications on the internet. No I am not talking about the conspiracy theory sites rather the mainstream newspapers such as the Daily Mail. This week there was an article from one Samantha Prick about how beautiful she is and how it has been a bane. Firstly, she isn’t beautiful in my opinion; she is at best quite attractive in a curious way, like a Doll but not a Barbie doll. Secondly, she is correct! Oh yes, she has a point with regard to perceptions people have and how they can affect you (if you let them)

Over my lifetime various people have suggested I take advantage of what “they” perceived as my good looks.  It has ranged from being an escort (even suggested last week!) to modelling or acting and on a few occasions the extreme................Gigolo-ing. Some have intimated I have already been doing this as I have been with a couple of ladies who whilst not rich were at least financially independent. That one really irks me as I have never let money be a reason to fall in love. And frankly it is an insult to those ladies that they would have been stupid enough to entertain “me”.

Whilst I do take issue with the article and the simplistic nature of her argument, I do understand there are shall we say, issues in that area?  It depends largely on how one perceives ones-self too.  I know I come across sometimes as confident and sure of my looks but the reality is far from that simple. I am NOT confident for example, never have been probably never will be. The “Oh lord it’s hard to be humble” song, for me, is a laugh.  But there is truth in what she says. Whilst in NZ I went to a professional recruitment agency that was billed as “The” agency for NZ. The recruitment interviewer told me I should “tone down” my look because it would probably intimidate the prospective employer! I was dumbstruck.  There she was in all her makeup and cleavaged  glory telling “Me” I was good looking and it might have a negative impact.  That was the first and only time I ever really thought, “I am fucked”!  I have no discernible talent/skill that employers are looking for, due in large part to never really knowing where I fit in and at 50 years old I am being told to “look uglier” if I am to get work in NZ!

The only area I am constantly advised to work in is sales, and I have already figured out I have too much of a conscience to try that one again.

Once many years ago I went to the Sandra Reynolds modelling agency to see if there “was” any truth in what people had been telling me. The guy who saw me took off my glasses and said, “Hmm, you eyes are quite big”! my immediate thought was, “so put me in a fucking meercat advert”!  even my last girlfriend (who was a model  and actress once) said my height shape and general measurements were perfect for a male model. I on the other hand look at what does pass for male models and then look at my photographs and have to laugh.  My nose is large, my teeth far from perfect I have a less than strong chin and jaw line, narrow shoulders and enormous “brackets” for wrinkles. “I” am under no illusions about my looks. Of course I appeal to some ladies, don’t we all one way or another? As is the case in reverse. 

When I reached 30 I happened to be sailing in the Med and a fellow sailor said to me “we are now at the age when we will be taken seriously in business, now it’s  our time”! he was a highly skilled marine electronics engineer and did indeed go on to business success in Barcelona, I always got the impression anyone “I” tried to do business with, thought of me as a mere lad, it was the wives of the successful yacht owners that liked me and there was a distinct air of suspicion from their husbands.  I am sensitive to atmosphere and I know Tolerance when I feel it!

The only time I managed to get my mug in some form of modelling was when Isobel started Izzy Lane and I did the men’s section. And they were awful! Even when I managed to get in Gladiator I spent more time hiding from the camera than proactively seeking the limelight. The sub director said at Shepperton when I was all made up; “ooh, Ridley will love you, you will go straight to the front”, it didn’t happen and was never likely to. 

I see myself in that grey area of not handsome nor ugly, like the large majority of us but for sure when I fall in love, she is beautiful and would hope she thought I was handsome.

It’s been a while since my last blog, before Christmas I think and frankly, I just haven’t felt the need, I have been screwed by apathy..........again! I have also been allowing the mind to wander in whatever direction it fancied to see where it would lead me.

Tonight whilst laying on the sofa, I managed to fall asleep before I wanted to, mental exhaustion takes me like that very rarely, but it happened and it was good.  When I woke it was once again with the thoughts of a woman I had once had a relationship with. It was many years ago yet she never really leaves my mind. It was her choice that we finished and although at the time I accepted it as inevitable, I don’t think I ever really understood what went wrong.  I am sure I made all the right noises if asked about it, kept dignity and suggested we just weren’t “compatible” but as I don’t think any humans are really “compatible” I would have known it was just an easy answer to a frustrating problem.

She was perhaps the first person ever to call my bluff. The words she said on our first meeting still rattle around in my head; “you seem shallow but I can see beneath that facade and that is who I want” not verbatim but she was essentially saying she didn’t care for the “shell” me, she wanted what she believed was beneath it. Made me cry a little. It was one very odd first date! I got the feeling that at last someone had “recognised” me despite the protective armour; it might as well have been a negligee as far as she was concerned. Oddly, it was at a time when I was closer to reaching some kind of academic fulfilment than I had ever thought possible, and that, had changed me considerably for the better (so I was told) I had reached a level of awareness previously hidden from me and was calm and reasonably level headed for the first time in my life. I was being offered a place at Oxford to study psychology (if I was prepared to do nothing else for 3 years!) I had been single for about a year and all looked rosy. I had this vision of finally laying to rest the notion that I was not as intelligent as I had always thought and here was my chance to prove it, but she entered my life and bang, I was off on a romantic rollercoaster. I left Plater that summer and never returned. (One might say THAT proves my lack of intelligence!) It never ceases to amaze me how adaptable I am. Living in the moment means one must be, but it isn’t an easy way of life.  I have to give airtime to the thought that I was probably a little scared of the commitment to 3 years at possibly the toughest educational establishment available. It wasn’t “modular” oh no, 3 years-exam-pass or fail! The thought of 3 years and then only getting a second or 3^rd! Was not acceptable to me, it had to be a first or nothing. So, it wasn’t a difficult decision, I had just crammed 2 years learning into one at Plater and the psychology tutor thought I was the bees patella’s whilst the sociology tutor considered my essays “visionary”! That’ll do for me I thought, academic potential identified thank you very much but I am aging rapidly and I have found the woman of my dreams.

Let’s get something straight here; I am not pining for a long ended relationship. It ended I got over it, that is a given. I am just curious as to why this one has never really left my consciousness. Sometimes I think the three years at Oxford would have been easier than the three years I spent with her! (I could say I got a “fail” after all!) There is a lesson in there somewhere and I probably know what it is.

So, this Christmas I spent alone and so I believe did she. I had several recollections of our Christmases together over those few days and at times I felt I was there with her. No, that isn’t right, what I mean is, I felt connected to her over Christmas, no, that isn’t it either! Ok, At Christmas, at certain times of the day, it was like I was there but unseen? Oh soddit! I can’t explain it. I am not used to being “lost for words” especially where affairs of the heart are concerned but in her case that seems to be....the case! I don’t like it, it is very annoying for me, I have been able to “rationalise” the others, but this one eludes me.

This wasn’t an easy relationship, by easy I mean; I had to make quite a few changes to my personality in order to avoid conflict but I accepted her observations about me and did see some truth in them. I had picked up quite a few bad habits and didn’t particularly want them and was happy to try and dispose of them for her (and of course me!) Physically she was perfect. The way she looked the way she spoke the way she dressed all of it was a stimulant beyond anything I had ever experienced yet she was the antithesis of “dolly”. I have never made a romantic decision based on looks despite some of my comments; I can’t get my head around a “type” how restrictive is that? Not for me. There has to be “something” something that strikes a chord and piques my interest. It isn’t something I can explain using words, therefore it “isn’t something I can explain”! I don’t want to either. That’s twice I have expressed my “lack of words” in this blog, that seems to be the problem, I can find no words to adequately understand why I didn’t keep her. She I am sure can explain it but given the impact I felt she had on me it wouldn’t help. I want to understand why “I” didn’t succeed. Yes, I “see” the arrogance in that statement! But let me explain; she stripped me bare and still wanted me, how often is that going to happen in a lifetime?

When it ended I knew I would have to get as far away from her as possible. I had to make myself very distant in both mental and physical dimensions, the physical was easy. I took the QM2 to the USA. I threw myself into whatever would take me away; mentally it was not happening and to be honest neither was it happening in my heart. I could very easily see myself getting the first plane back at the drop of a hat or a nonexistent phone call to “come home”! Despite having taken nearly everything I had from her house when I left, there were a few things I couldn’t get in the car which after a while I thought she would see and start thinking she missed me and would have similar feelings about having me back. She didn’t of course; she got stuck into her life. There was one incredible moment when we were communicating again where she said she would have loved a big hug.  I say incredible because it was totally unexpected, a moment of weakness on her part? I don’t know why I didn’t consider it a sign and leg it back to her, maybe I didn’t want her to want me in a moment of weakness? More likely I recognised “my” weakness for her and knew I would put pressure on her. That would not be right, love should have been able to just give her what she needed at that moment and ask for nothing in return? I know the “words” but sometimes the “Tune” evades me.

I don’t know if this is a common feeling but the thought of another seems as remote as the Antarctic, and even after a year or so you kind of know there will be things about the new relationship that will be either a reminder of the old one or a diametrically opposed one to one you loved. I know this quite painfully because the woman I met next could not have been more different from                     . she was a an ex actress and model that devoured red meat, hunted, smoked pot and was only slightly right of Genghis Khan.  I had spent the previous year’s becoming as vegetarian as I could and involved in ethical socially considerate environments, it “felt” very much where I wanted to be whereas this new one thrust me back into an environment I could easily be in, it was armour back on! It was easier to be with the new one because I could return to Mr. Cavalier, after years of being that way one never forgets how. Some of you may see that brazen over confident personality now. It is of course totally fake!  It is there to protect myself from any confidence sapping remarks. “Say what you like, I don’t give a damn”? Hmm, what is that about? Part of it is true; I don’t give a damn, but maybe inside a part of me does. The new relationship was awash with those “ribbings”, although to be fair she was also very confident in my abilities. That may of course have been because I gave the impression of bold confident?  It doesn’t matter now, she is one who let go and despite my admiration for her talents and ability, she was never going to be for me. The “connection” was probably “reactionary” (for both of us) I could also see that I could not give her the complete package she wanted. She doesn’t think I tried, I did, but not where she wanted it.

One of the mistakes I made with .............. Was when she exposed my soft underbelly, I assumed I could let go of all the bullshit and say what I wanted knowing it would be safe with her. I say mistake because although that might be treated as precious, it can be seen as a “weakness” that should be watched closely, even scrutinised. It was, and all my protestations that whatever stupid thing I said or did, it wasn’t the real me, eventually crumbled, whatever faith she had in me slowly disappeared. It was the first time a relationship had ended that, as I drove away, I was in tears with a kind of knowing it was beyond repair. It was a five hour drive to my parents house and for 3 of those I expected a call, I still thought there was something she was expecting me to do that would change things, I had exhausted myself and my repertoire was spent.

So I ask myself this question; is it ok to attempt a relationship with someone new when despite knowing and accepting this other one is over, there is still going to be a “connection” albeit garbled, still there for me?

Merry bloody Christmas.

What a week and weekend. And Christmas just around the corner! It’s just as well I am the embodiment of “Bah Humbug” otherwise I may have found myself genuflecting in some house of shame!

Twas the week I put myself on the line “publicly” about writing. Yeah, it is true I absolutely adore the activity of attempting to translate thought to paper; problem for me is that what goes on in “My” head frightens me sometimes! And despite the fact that when adding up all ones friends I probably don’t really need more than a couple of hands, the thought of potentially alienating myself from them never really appealed, but then I had an epiphany. I had heard about these epiphanic moments and was expecting all kinds of fanfare or at least a million candle power light bulb appearing above me bonce, it didn’t, no lights no trumpets just a sickening realisation that if I had a metier it was writing.

I realised I don’t even need to be any good at it. 10 years ago the brother of a girlfriend said “the average earnings of Authors was about £5000,00 a year” back then I wasn’t too impressed with that figure and it took me until now to realise that the money is irrelevant. Yes I AM a slow learner! Slow in some areas and rapid in others, where my own welfare is concerned I am sloth like, scrub that, Sloth riding a Snail on a glacier is probably a better description. 

Then I thought “what the hell of any interest have I got to say”? it was a little more of my proclivity for self denigration which I think may come from not wanting to be beaten to it! It was pointed out by my landlord a few months ago as a feature of my character he liked! Now some may be concerned that an apparently “negative” trait is an endearing feature but not me, oh no, I have been harping on about there not being enough “straight talk” in the world, and by straight talk I mean, point my wart out please because “I” am deluding myself it isn’t there and “You” can see it so if I am to Bazooka it, I need to know. I can’t say that as an absolute because for all I know you may be a myopic mole (Tautologically speaking) and it could be a beautiful spot as in Louis 14^th and not pubertal! So, wart identified I cogitated and came to the conclusion, “I ain’t gonna find any physical work that would provide enough sponduliks to survive” so stop trying and do something, non physical that you like, to not survive!

Next thing is Christopher Hitchens died and it was the reading of a few of his obituaries that made me realise it doesn’t matter if you are a “contrarian” if ever there were a man who “wrote of the moment” it was he, and that is what I do. No I am not comparing myself to him, I am much taller and dark haired for a start and I haven’t had that elite education which in some, expands the vocabulary to an art form, I don’t have his amazing memory or ruthlessly critical thinking ability either but I do have one similarity, I have mislaid the “diplogene”. So I am now able to be an opinionated arsehole on just about any subject and not feel, “I shouldn’t have said that”.

I also realised that my time at the Casita has come to an end and there is no escaping the fact that I haven’t done anything practical about where next, or what next. It was the vision of trying to pile everything back into the car and then driving up the track to……………….nowhere in particular that prompted me to ask FB friends for a topic about which I could write 5000 words. Being told by someone you have never physically met to “just bloody get on with it” is a good motivator; yes I wanted some feedback on the entertainment value of my writing. I am aware that a few people saying some nice things isn’t really sufficient to make such a decision but it has been said many times before by people I really should have put more faith in, people who loved me and wanted me to fulfil my writing ambitions. I let them down in many ways but let myself down more.

I wrote in an essay for my psychology tutor back in 2001 that I believed the “family unit” was no longer the most important in society and that we were developing a much wider family by way of the communication advances in technology. I was not aware of FB then in fact it hadn’t started but it seemed to me that we were going to be connected with the world on a personal level very soon. And that means getting a grass roots no holds barred in yer face perspective of life. That is now the case and even though it produces a lot of inane scribble there are some real gems.

So, if it brings me fame and fortune I have decided to give it all way! And as a newly converted Contrarian I can change my mind and create some sophistry to justify keeping it all!