Hotdogs

Hotdogs are delicious. I don't care what kind of disgusting mystery meat makes up this humble delight, I will never stop loving them.

I made some the other night for my girlfriend and some of our mates and I don't remember ever being so proud of something I have cooked.

They were a huge hit, and whilst my parents are away on holidays for a month I imagine i'll be eating them quite a few more times between now and then.

I basically said everything I needed to say in those first three paragraphs, which sadly means this blog doesn't have anywhere else to go. But because I make a point of writing longer posts I'll just tell you what items I served these hotdogs with to give my post some extra detail.

They came with pan friend onions, which I chopped and cooked myself, some grated cheese, mustard and tomato sauce.

This concludes my hotdog eating and writing adventure. Thanks for stopping by :)

Apologies

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The topics I write about on this blog aren't really hard hitting, well thought out, funny or interesting, but they are however, hurtful and mean.

That's according to my girlfriend Amie who didn't take to kindly to my previous post about being environmentally friendly.

The remark about her "precious magazine", or the amount of exclamation marks i used in the quote "...After she asked me to!!!" when I was writing about her were unnecessary, as they made her seem mean.

So for this I am sorry. I never meant to offend anybody with my writing, I was merely trying to save the environment.

My girlfriend isn't a mean person at all. Infact if you exclude a few Manchester United players she may even be my favourite person ever.

So once again I'm sorry. I'm never going to try and save the world with my hurtful recycling again.

I'm going to bury my social conscience and no longer worry about the homeless, refugees, world famine or recycling.

Because when you do, you hurt peoples feelings.

Environmentally Friendly

I don't really know too much about global warming, and I'm not entirely sure what my 'carbon footprint' is either, but a few weeks ago I wrote an article for a magazine that my girlfriend was creating, which apparently wasn't good enough to get published.

So I decided rather than throwing my piece of literature into a metaphorical bin where it would just go into landfill and take years to decompose, I would recycle it on my very own blog, where I make the rules and decide what gets published and what doesn't.

So the following piece of writing you're about to read is the article that didn't make it into my girlfriends precious magazine even though I stayed up until 2AM writing it for her... After she asked me to!!!

FIFTEEN SONGS FOR FIFTEEN MOODS:

When a moment in time or event needs to be captured the best thing to have is a camera. No doubt about that.

But what do you do when you want to reflect upon other things like feelings, or emotions?

The answer’s simple. You turn to song.

And that’s why Steeze magazine has compiled a list of music for you, cleverly titled “Fifteen songs for Fifteen moods”

It’s your one stop list of songs for any mood or occasion, and once you’ve read this list, you’d be crazy to look for music in any other place.

If you’re a human who has emotions, then this is the list for you.

ENJOY!

1 - Frustrated - 2pac -Changes
2 - Confident - smash mouth - all star
3 - Mischievous - the beetles - Maxwell’s silver hammer
4 - Enraged - Alanis Morisette - you oughta know
5 - Lonely - Millencolin - the ballad
6 - Surprised - Black kids - Love me already
7 - Detached - red jumpsuit apparatus - cat and mouse
8 - Insecure - Coolio - gangster’s paradise
9 - Distant - Bic Runga - sway
10 - Helpless - Alexisonfire - It was fear of myself that made me odd
11 - Optimistic - modest mouse - float on
12 - Passionate - Toto - Africa
13 - Motivated - Pat Benatar - All fired up
14 - Angry - Dropkick Murphys - Workers song
15 - Elated - Queen - We are the champions

Walk Right

I saw a guy today who had a stupid walk.

He flicked his feet moments before they would touch the ground at each step he took.

If I were to describe it the words gay, ridiculous and 'I hate that guy who walks like a girl' would all be used.

It was a really girly walk and it brought to my attention how so many people out there don't walk in the manner that their sex would suggest they should walk.

E.g boys should have a boy walk, girls should have a girl walk.

Unfortunately none of my close friends have a stupid walk so I can't really point the finger and name names on here in the way I would if i was talking about poor personal hygiene - Shannon.

But never the less, I just think everybody should be more aware of their 'walk' and how stupid it can make them look.

You are possibly making the worst first impression ever without even engaging someone in conversation.

So if you're a foot flicker, toe bouncer, deliberate limper or arm swinger, CUT IT OUT.

You look like an idiot.

FACTS ABOUT BRAD!! Version 2.0

So here it is

I'm not going to keep you waiting any longer to read another trivial fact about myself that you will probably forget moments after reading it.

Many things have happened to me this week, and I could have actually thought up something proper to write about if i tried, but decided to take the easy way out and speak about myself instead because something has been bothering me.

"What's been bothering you Brad?" Is what you're probably thinking.

So with the perfectly placed teaser now set, let me please introduce you to the second edition of "FACTS ABOUT BRAD!!"

My left shoulder is always sore and it's really annoying me.

I think the pain i'm having is a result of an unavoidable accident I was involved in last year in which a recklessly driven golf cart colided with my comparitively fragile body.

At the time I decided to opt away from using main stream medicine, or health care for that matter, and self diagnosed myself as having 'a sore shoulder that will fix itself'..

I now think I did the wrong thing by not seeing a doctor, so if I ever git hit by a golf cart, car, or bus in the future, actually make that any moving vehicle, I'll definitely seek the opinion of someone more in the know than myself.

Unless I'm dead because of this collision.

I wear girls clothes!

Yesterday I found a pair of jeans when I was clothes shopping with my girlfriend that I liked alot.
They were the colour I was looking for, they were reasonably priced and seemingly the perfect buy at the time.
There was just one problem though. They were a bit loose, and there were no smaller alternatives.

Atleast not in a "mens size".

My whole world came crumbling down around me, sure I have my health, friends and a loving family but my life would have no meaning if I didn't own these jeans.

Owning these pants was what I was put on this earth to do.

After some light persuasion from my girlfriend and the annoyingly pushy retail assisstant, I tried on a pair of the ladies jeans that would give me the tighter fitting comfort the mens pair couldn't provide.

I felt a bit gay at the time, but my mind was put at ease when the lady told me the boys and girls jeans in this particular style looked exactly the same, but were just sized differently and heaps of other blokes were doing the same thing.

That was good enough for me.

At that very moment I fell back in love with my girlfriend and the urge to dance on a table while I listened to a Ricky Martin CD slowly faded.

I realised wearing girls clothes wouldn't make me gay. Kissing other men would make me gay, and I hadn't been doing that so there was no problem.

I brought the pants and now I intend to wear them quite often, even though we're coming in to summer and on most days it will be shorts weather.



In celebration of this story, I decided to jazz up this post by adding a video to it that celebrates the love i feel for my new jeans.. and girlfriend.

I encourage you all to watch... And dance.

FACTS ABOUT BRAD!!

OK, so I'm back for my second post after coming out of retirement and not much has happened to me since I made my come back into the world of blogging.

Two days ago I had myself all psyched up and ready to observe things that were going on around me so I could post some light hearted story about something I saw, or did.

The last two days in my life however, have seen me working at nights and playing X-BOX during the day. So instead of writing about an observation I made, or an experience I had, I thought I would tell you, the reader out there an extremely interesting fact you wouldn't know about me unless you read this blog.

These 'Facts about Brad' posts will become frequent on this page and will generally be used as a filler post while I think of something proper to write about.

They will also be new facts that I myself have only recently discovered aswell.

So please, let me now introduce to you;

"FACTS ABOUT BRAD VERSION 1"

I like ice tea better than soft drink.

There I said it. I dropped the bomb and I don't care who I upset..

I still like pink lemonade alot, but I find ice tea more refreshing to drink which is why it's now my new favourite beverage in the whole wide world..

So anyway, that brings to an end the first edition of "FACTS ABOUT BRAD"..

Hope you enjoyed.

New but not Improved

Every year a famous sports star or other public figure will retire from whatever it is they do that makes them famous, only to make a highly publicised return weeks, months or years later.

Sometimes they are succesful, sometimes they are not. The point being, I am coming out of retirement to start this blog back up again like famous people do.

While I never officially retired in the first place, or reached any sort of level that would make me remotely comparable to a professional athlete, I still feel a grand return is necessary, because 'my blog version 2' is going to be bigger and better than it ever was before...

And by that, I mean it will basically be the same, just newer.

So strap yourself in and get ready for the ride becuase a few times a week I am going to write about stuff on here that isn't very important to anyones lives at all.

In fact, I feel pretty confident in saying that almost all the time what you read on here will in no way enhance your life. The topics will be trivial, the tone sarcastic, the message unclear, but it will still be fun.... And new.

So until I write again stop whatever it is you normally do and just sit, and wait, in anticipation of what my next pointless blog could be.

Seating Spaces

A simple spacing change needs to be made to all stadiums built in the future so that when you go to these stadiums you're not sitting so close to the people behind you.

I bring this up because yesterday I was at the football with my girlfriend trying to enjoy the game but couldn't because I had to sit through 90 minutes of the people behind me talking rubbish into my ear.

I disagreed with basically every comment these people had to make, and didn't laugh at even one of the jokes they made.
They weren't however being deliberately annoying, in fact they probably thought many of their jokes were providing light entertainment for those within ear shot of their cleverly thought out remarks.
But they very wrong!

There's bigger issues in the world to complain about, I know, but this was just annoying, having to sit through their nonsense without being able to contribute anything to the conversation I'm being forced to listen to because that would have made me seem rude.

When stadiums, or arenas are built in the future there should be bigger spaces between each seat to avoid this sort of game ruining experience happening to anyone else.

This whole situation could have been avoided by me getting up and moving to a different seat, but then it means the annoying people have won and that's the last thing I want to see happen.

A dummies guide to: The GYM

After an embarassing first visit to my local gym yesterday, which brought to my attention how physically inept I am, or more specifically, how weak I am in my triceps, I'm now sitting at my computer looking up diagrams of the human body so I can locate exactly which muscles in my body are giving me a type of pain I've never felt before.

It's not all bad though, my experience has inspired me to give other people a recount on what it's like at the gym, and offer some friendly pointers to people who plan on going.

Here begins a dummies guide to the gym:

TIP NUMBER ONE:

No matter how strong you get, there will always be someone bigger than you at the gym so with that in mind, when you go, take a friend with you who isn't as strong. You may not be the biggest person there, but you'll be stronger than your mate which should make you feel better.

TIP NUMBER TWO:

Wear nice shoes. If you're new to the gym it's unlikely that you're already strong, so when people walk by and notice how embarassinly weak you are, hopefully there mocking taunts will turn to envious looks once they see how stylish your footwear is.

TIP NUMBER THREE:

Don't take shampoo after you've done an upper body work out. It's highly unlikely that you'll even be able to reach your head after such exercises so reduce the weight of your gym bag by leaving the shampoo at home. You'll thank me for this when your bag is a few kilo's lighter as you walk agonisingly out that exit door.

TIP NUMBER FOUR:

Avoid making eye contact with people. If you happen to lock eyes with someone it may encourage that person to watch you work out, and if you're new to the gym like I was, your workouts aren't very impressive. So keep your dignity in tact by keeping your eyes on the ground.

And finally, for my last piece of advice

TIP NUMBER FIVE:

There's no shame in quitting. Things at the gym are really hard to do, and in my case leave you feeling sore the next day. So if you go there and start to get tired, call it a day, hit the showers and go home to take a nap. You'll feel better the next day knowing you acted like a coward, but you're pain free because of it.

So there you go, my first day at the gym was unsuccesful, but yours won't be if you read this handy guide to gym behaviour before going.

Drunk and Crazy, or Criminal and Psychotic

Today I had the opportunity to become one of the greatest crime fighters this country has ever seen, but due to a combination of things, mostly the cold weather, my laziness and unwilling attitude to become a famous crime fighter the opportunity slipped away from me.

The story of my brush with near stardom begins at 5:30 on a very cold morning. My nose and ears frozen, fingers numb and lips dry. I'm in a horrible mood as I patiently wait for my train, gathering my thoughts, but not suspecting for a moment that I could soon become a super hero.

I'm approached by a man who based entirely on his physical appearance scares me.
I'm not sure if it's the fact he is drinking at 5:30 in the morning, the fact that he was wearing a singlet top on the coldest day of the year, or that he had two different shoes on.
I don't know, it could be all of those things, or it could just be my super hero gut instinct telling me there was something very suspicious about this man.

My suspicions were confirmed minutes into our conversation.
At first, I thought this man wanted to steal my jacket from me, but to my relief this was not the case. We soon got talking on other things, and when i say 'got talking' I mean him speaking to me while I stand there frightened as I go over a list of names in my head of people who would be invited to my funeral, if the choice was mine.

So, our conversation continues and happens to lead down the path of explosives. And while my knowledge on this subject is admittedly small, I was still attentive enough to learn a few things from this drunken criminal.
The first lesson being; regular civilians shouldn't have dynamite at there homes, it can only lead to trouble. The second being I'm some kind of crazy person magnet and I don't like it at all.

The master plan of drunk criminal was to have the dynamite he keeps not so well hidden on his front lawn run over by a council lawn mower so that the resulting explosion can wreak some kind of havoc on society.
I questioned his master plan upon hearing it, mostly because I wasn't sure why someone would want things blowing up outside of their house, but also because I couldn't really get my head around him having dynamite on his front lawn that no one had reported to the police, or some other crime fighting body, like the X-men.

Perhaps it was my responsibility to tell the police about what this man had told me, but I stand by my defence of it being to cold to take action against this potential criminal.
I am of the opinion that crime fighting should be done during the warmer months to increase productivity and criminal capture.

But to those of you who may say 'Crime fighting needs to happen all the time Brad, criminals don't rest. You should have told the police' to you I say, I one day hope to be a super hero, so my authority outranks that of a humble police officer, and in my professional opinion I saw no immediate threat posed by this man. I made the right decision in letting him walk away without arrest, and I firmly believe my super hero moment will present itself again some time in the future.

I'm not going to report every scum bag at a train station who makes up tall stories about things they do or have at their house. The police have better things to do with their time.

However, in case I'm completely wrong and this guy is actually a criminal I'd like to apologise in advance to any council workers who suffer from a case of death, or amputation due to a dynamite explosion while mowing lawns.

Sorry council workers, you guys work really hard and the last thing you need is a dynamite explosion slowing you down.

Sharing is Scaring

While patiently waiting for my bus home earlier today I was approached by a stranger who asked if I had any ring tones on my phone I could share with him. After taking a few seconds to get over the initial shock of this obscure question I was more than happy to share my impressive library of music which consists of 6 songs on my mobile phone.

After some teething problems in the beginning, entirely due to him not knowing how to accept ring tones onto his phone I soon began to share my music. I had only sent one song when my bus came, so naturally I was thinking 'Sorry complete stranger, I won't be able to send you anything else’

Oh, how wrong I was.
To my surprise this guy was catching the same bus home as I was so I had a few more minutes to give him ring tones.

Just as the bus approached my stop I finished sending him my last song. Being the gentlemen that I am, I stood up, shook this strangers hand and was on my way. Thinking I'd never see him again.

Oh, how wrong I was.
I got off the bus thinking to myself ‘he seems like a nice guy’.
But those pleasant, harmless thoughts soon turned into scared thoughts and the feeling that I was about to be murdered.

I heard footsteps following me.
And to put it lightly I was incredibly frightened to turn around and see him standing there behind me, staring me in the face.
After what seemed like a lifetime of an awkward silence as we stared at each other, I bravely managed to say 'So do you live around here?' Hoping the answer would be 'Yes' and not something like 'No, I'm about to kill you'

By reading this story about something that just happened to me you can probably tell I wasn't murdered by this guy. If anything I was amazed, in a weird kind of way.

The answer to my where do you live question was 'I don't live anywhere near here man, I was just catching this bus to get your ring tones, I'm catching the next bus back the opposite way now'

I'm amazed by this because I couldn't believe this guy had nothing better to do in the middle of the day on a Wednesday. He has so much time on his hands he can catch buses to places he doesn't need to be at just so he can get ring tones on his phone from people he doesn't know.

His ambitions clearly aren't sky high, and if I'm to be judgemental for a second I would assume he hasn't already taken the business world by storm, made his millions and settled into a life of retirement at a young age.
I would guess he is unemployed and not really looking to hard for work at the moment.

He could be some of those things I just described, or he could be none. Whatever he is I don’t really mind. I’m just happy I haven’t been murdered today...

Yet.

Honouring your debts - A cowards way out

After being reminded of a twenty dollar bet I’ve been owing to a friend for about eight months now, and with no immediate intention of paying this money I began to think that perhaps a real man doesn’t always honour his debts as the old saying would suggest he does.

Perhaps my resilience in avoiding this payment is one of the many characteristics that actually make a true ‘man’. In fact I would go as far as saying my fox like behaviour in being able to avoid this debt should be the catalyst for a changing way in which we view men, and what it takes to be a “man”

Anybody could have easily rolled over and paid the twenty dollars when it was first owing. Only a real man would think long and hard about excuses for why he shouldn’t have to, or why he is physically unable to honour his debt though.

My arrogant, ‘glass half full’ attitude doesn’t stop at suggesting I’m the platform in which all men should now be measured against.
I’m a role model, a leader, an innovator, call it what you like, but my attitude when it comes to avoiding debts makes me all of those things plus more.

If people follow my example we will all learn that losing is not OK, nor does it have to be accepted. Being a good sport or gracious in defeat is a hollow attribute to which no one should want their name associated.

Everyone should be a winner. Like me, and other small debt avoiders.

You see, until I actually hand over the twenty dollars I haven’t technically lost the bet. At the moment it’s still a draw.

So follow my example and next time you owe a mate a small amount of money, don’t pay him.

You’re a loser once you do.

No Suggestion Box

I was recently thinking to myself about how I could write a blog on my friends after one of them bragged to me about some of their ‘achievements’ that would make for a good topic on my page.

Initially I was right on board with his suggestion. Telling the stories of those closest to me, via a metaphorical suggestion box which I cleverly nick named would be a great idea. It includes my family and friends and makes my life a lot easier if I have people telling me what to write about.

The simple logic behind this idea was flawless.
At least that's what I thought for about 15 seconds.
I quickly learnt this idea was a bad one.
So bad in fact, that I didn't need to hear more than one suggestion to realise it could be one of the worst ideas I've ever had.

The first suggestion I got would have made me some kind of pervert had I actually written about it.

I’m proud of myself for realizing this story was inappropriate. My better judgment had been clouded by alcohol that night courtesy of an open bar at the party I was at so many of the things I did that evening fall into an ethical Grey area, yet my credibility as a child friendly blogger proudly remains in tact.

I know up until now the moral of this story, or the direction in which it’s heading hasn’t been very obvious. But it’s about a lesson I learnt that night. Perhaps one I should've learnt years ago, but a lesson all the same.

It’s human nature to look for the easiest way in which something can be done. Looking for shortcuts in life is natural, but like writing a story about your friends sexual conquests, it's not always the right thing to do.
The feeling of satisfaction is greater when you work hard towards achieving something yourself, no matter how big or small it may be.

So don’t take short cuts in life.

Don’t open any metaphorical suggestion boxes either, they’re nothing but trouble.

And if you have a blog, think up your own ideas because if you're friends are anything like mine, they're scum bags with rubbish ideas!

:)

Happy Days

Ever have one of those incredible days where everything seems to be perfect? Where the only thing wrong is that as each hour ticks by you realise you're getting closer to the end, and once you go to bed the perfect day has ended.

I had one of those days today. Similar to something you'd read about in a fairytale where everyone lives happily ever after at the end.

The only differences in my story being I'm not one of three little house building pigs, or a naive hood wearing girl walking unaccompanied through a wolf inhabited forest.

That, and the fact I'm not at the end of my story yet. I've just finished off a chapter with a happy ending, there could be twists to come.

It's a bitter sweet feeling really.

Being completely satisfied with how everything in my life went today and not willing to change a thing, yet knowing in the back of my mind that when I wake up tomorrow there's a big chance that things might not be this great again for a while.

It's unpredictable and scary not knowing what comes next.

It makes me wish that instead of wasting time on this blog I'd been getting my act together with some sort of time freezing and future seeing invention so that days like today don't ever end, and if they did, I'd know when the next good one was coming along.

Good Night :)

Not all thieves are bad

I don't think there's to many things worse than being stolen from. No matter how big and important or small and replaceable something is, when it is taken from you without you knowing it's a horrible feeling.

I bring this up because last night my soccer bag was stolen from my front porch.

But to call myself a 'victim of crime' would be misleading to my growing audience of readers, which by the way approximately sits at a very respectable 7.

Anyway, a 'victim of crime' I'm certainly not.

You see, although I didn't realise my bag had been taken, when it was eventually returned to me nothing valuable was missing. And to my suprise, the bag was returned cleaner than what it had previously been.

All the chocolate wrappers, random bits of mud, and scrunched up pieces of strapping tape were now gone. And it also came back to me with a new can of deodorant inside.

Now I'm not sure exactly what happened in the case of "Brad's momentarily missing bag" or why people would steal my bag but not take the contents from within it, but I'm happy with how things have turned out and I certainly won't be dusting off my old magnifying glass and Sherlock Holmes coat to investigate this matter further.

If anything, this whole ordeal has encouraged me to leave more of my possessions at the mercy of thieves, or friendly borrowers as I have now come to nickname them, to see if the possessions I treasure most, which have become dirty overtime are returned to me cleaner than ever before.

So, to the friendly borrowers who took my bag and cleaned it out for me, before leaving it in a park for someone else to return so they didn't get all the credit for a selfless good deed, I thank you.

I only hope you've managed to borrow a computer from someone's house without them knowing so you can read how sincere I truly am when I offer you my thanks.

Your methods are questionable, but results unbelievable. So again, thank you friendly borrowers.

Second Chance Phone Call

In the last few weeks a disappointing trend has arisen which has seen me miss an unusually large amount of calls on my mobile phone.

I have an endless list of reasons for not picking up in time.
Sometimes I only have one hand free and I can’t take the phone out of my pocket because my pants are to tight, I’m in another room and I can’t hear the phone ringing until it’s too late… Or I play a daredevil game where I look at my phone ringing and see how long I can go before answering it.

Now I’m smart enough to know the third reason why I miss some phone calls is stupid, and while I’m not yet prepared to take full responsibility for missing some calls because of that game, I can admit it’s partially my fault.

But do you want to know who is also at fault?
The ‘phone caller’.
I think it’s their responsibility to give people a second chance when they’re ringing them.

Next time you dial someone’s number and they don’t pick up, wait a few seconds and call them back. We shouldn’t be given one opportunity to speak with people.
I’m sure the answered calls success rate would be huge on the second attempt because some people just need a little bit more time than others.
That doesn’t make them weak or bad people, it just means they need a second chance.

And second chances aren’t a bad thing; we all deserve them at some point, whether we’ve made a mistake and hurt someone close to us, or to be topic relevant, missed a phone call.

So let’s start giving people more second chances.. Especially when it comes to answering their mobile phones.

Let your imagination run wild

A couple nights ago, when I was watching a young kid have a pretend fight against what looked to be a gang of hundreds, and come out of this battle triumphant, I began to wonder; is there anything better than your imagination?

Although I couldn’t see the people this boy was fighting, or really tell who had started the fight it was easy to see this kid was outnumbered.
It didn’t scare him one bit though, he bravely fought against an army of men who in his mind were probably much older and stronger than him. And despite making a few violent stabbing gestures at one stage, which probably killed quite a few imaginary villains, he seemed to be innocently playing by himself and having a great time doing it.

It made me jealous. I no longer have that youthful innocence where I can get lost in my own imagination and do whatever I want.
I’m too aware of things now. If I ever imagined myself in a fight against one hundred people I wouldn’t win that fight. That kind of scenario is to perfect for me nowadays. In actual fact when I do imagine myself fighting 100 people I straight away realise I’m at a huge disadvantage so I run away.

Ten years ago, if I was the boy in that fight there probably would have been a thousand guys against me, not a girlish 100. And I wouldn’t have needed a knife to beat them either, just my lion heart and incredible ninja abilities.

So when do we lose that care free attitude where we think anything is possible? And if we can imagine it, then it can be done. As we grow older things change so subtly that we often don’t realise when they’re different.

It’s sad in a way, by the time you’re old enough to appreciate your imagination, you’re also probably too old to take full advantage of it.

Ginger Kids: Embrace or Dye

Ever since the very first red head was accidentally created many years ago, the 'ginger race' has faced an endless stream of cruel jokes and discrimination based on the colour of their hair.
Now I love a good red joke as much as the next guy, so I'm in no way campaigning for some kind of ban on these particular forms of comedic gold.
If anything, I encourage all forms of ginger mockery, as being brown haired the jokes don't affect me and I find them to be hilarious.

However, some gingers are haunted by the cruel taunts they face day in day out by the more fortunate blonde, burnette or even black haired folk living amongst us.

So to those troubled people I say shave or dye your hair.

Blend in with the rest of society as you hang out in a well shaded area, and see if your fortunes change.
You may just realise the snickering behind your back and the long stares as you walk by soon stops because you've convinced people you're not actually a ginger and you're 'one of them'.

If, on the other hand you're content with the fire on your head that god has given you, and you've learnt to embrace the red hair as being a gift, rather than a curse, then congratulations to you.
I wish you all the best, and despite any jokes that may come your way from myself, or any other people, I can assure you as far as I'm concerned it's nothing personal.
Your hair just makes me laugh.

KIT KATS: A great injustice

I've decided to use my blog as a forum for addressing some of the bigger issues in our society today. Many people who read this blog may not like what I have to say, but I feel it's my responsibility as a blogger to raise awareness on this issue.

The KIT KAT is an under rated chocolate that doesn't get the appreciation it deserves!!

So often when I'm in the supermarket I see people favouring the better packaged or heavier marketed chocolate snacks like the 'Mars Bar' and 'Snickers', while the humble KIT KAT is all but forgotten as it rots on the shelves.

The manufacturers of KIT KAT have been forced to bring out new and improved versions of the delicious original in a last gasp attempt to catch peoples attention, and while I quite fancy these new additions like the KIT KAT chunky, and welcome them into the confectionary game with open arms, as a loyal consumer of proper KIT KAT's I am disappointed at the action forced upon these manufacturers by an unappreciative chocolate eating community.

I urge people who don't yet eat KIT KATs to give them a try. I'm sure you'll be satisfied by the delicious milk chocolate and crispy wafer fingers that make up the delicious chocolate snack.
And to those of you who already enjoy the mouth-watering treat, be a little more pro-active in your love for KIT KATs by spreading tales of their greatness to your family and friends so they too, can have their eyes opened to the satisfying world of KIT KAT's.

If we all band together and eat them every day I'm sure we'd be able to show this great snack the love and appreciation it deserves..

Happy dreams are the real nightmares!

Ever have one of those incredible dreams where everything in your sleep is perfect?
Maybe you've developed some kind of super human strength and you're the world's best crime fighter, or a new found confidence with people of the opposite sex and all of a sudden you have an endless line of opportunities to meet and impress new people who think you're amazing?

And then you wake up to the bitter disappointment of what your real life actually is!

Now your real life may not actually be that disappointing, but in comparison to that of the world's greatest superhero, no matter how big the burden of keeping your identity a secret is, your life would suck.
And those dreams you're having, where your brain has you believing you're something special are just cruel.

Our first thoughts in the morning shouldn't be sad ones of the realisation we're just "average"..

The nightmare is underrated.
I want to have nightmares every night so when I wake up I can be happy with the average life I'm living.
My first thoughts in the morning shouldn't be "Dammn, I'm not actually spiderman." they should be positive ones like: "Pheww, I didn't just fall off a cliff, that was lucky".

Next time you have a nightmare where something terrible has happened to you, be grateful. The realisation that it was all 'just a dream' when you wake up will have you in a better mood for the rest of the day!!

Unconvincing Cross Dressers

How much time and effort goes into convincing people you're a lady, when you're just a man in a dress, doing your best to look pretty?

I happened to cross paths with two cross dressers yesterday and was immediately sure that no matter how long their hair was, and how pretty their dresses looked, they weren't fooling anybody.

Keeping my distance I noticed one of them looked to have the kind of stubble I could only dream of, having not yet mastered the art of facial hair growth myself, while the other one had the muscle definition in his/her calves that would bring shame to most blokes in a gym.

Waiting for the lights to change, I couldn't keep my eyes off them as I counted in my head the number of different things that made it obvious they were male, E.g Adams apple.
Then I changed perspective and began to count the number of things they had on which may also be worn by the average female. Dress, high heels, handbag, pony tail the list goes on, but it didn't have me believing for a second that I was looking at a couple of strong, facial hair growing women rather than blokes in a dress.

So how much work actually goes into transforming a male into a believable looking woman? Even if you have convinced most people you're a lady, you'd probably be a hideous looking one at that, so is it ever really worth the time and effort?