Is there anyone alive out there?

Hello there, it's nice to see you again. Welcome to my not so triumphant return to the blogging world, please make yourself comfortable and I will try to entertain you for a few minutes whilst you come to terms with the reality of another day of filling time and keeping safe. For those of you who are alone during these uncertain times please know that we are all still connected if not physically, we have so many different ways to communicate remotely. Before I get silly and immature I want to say to every single person reading this, pick up the phone, open the laptop, unlock the tablets. Now more than ever you are so important to someone and you don't even know it. Check in with friends, family and work colleagues. Give them the time that you have been given in this strange and unprecedented new way of life we are all experiencing. Forget conspiracy theories and blame games and just look out for each other, above all look after your own mental health, have a giggle and stick to a routine. I for one have been on furlough for just over three weeks now and am still adjusting to not seeing my colleagues each day, not having a work-based structured day and even looking forward to coming home....because I am already here!! OK on with the blog, I am a little rusty so bear with me. On 27th April 2020 it will have been a full 5 years since my last blog entry and on 14th September 2020 it will have been 9 years since my first entry. Now is as good a time as any to try and start things up again so here goes nothing, please fasten your seat belts and prepare for a long overdue Captain rant...

I am now 35 years young and I still cant seem to shake the desperate urge to say something inappropriate for my own entertainment. You will all be disappointed to learn that I have developed a filter over the last few years which I am not proud of. I am a lot more considerate in reality than what my brain actually feels like doing. When meeting new people I am polite and friendly but inside I am constantly saying things to myself like, "Don't mention dead babies," or "I have no interest in completing this conversation so I will nod until they leave." New people that get thrown into my life generally have about 10 minutes to hold my attention without making me say something inappropriate to end the exchange. The problem I am finding is that this tactic sometimes backfires and what I say makes the boring piece of shit laugh. If they do laugh I respect them more as I clearly said it to insult them but they are mature enough not to take themselves too seriously and appreciated the fact that I am up front.

People have always tried to work me out and I am pretty sure it is a dead-end because I have tried to work myself out with less than satisfactory results. If you were to slice the different sections of my brain you would only find confusion, indecent thoughts and casual non-offensive stereotyping. Let's unpack those three above, please note that family members read this blog so the indecent thoughts will be skimmed over rather than over-analysed.

Let's start with confusion, what would I be confused about? You would have thought that after 35 years on this floating rock I would have worked things out and know what is going on however, you couldn't be further from the truth. So much confuses me that I have only learned really to develop a confident look in my face showing how much I understand but beneath the chubby cheeks and cheeky smile there is a lost little boy still climbing to get a look over the fence at what the rest of the world is doing. The only thing that makes sense to me is that nothing makes sense. My approach doesn't help because I try to be pragmatic but I only succeed in allowing tangents to form in my head without the trail of breadcrumbs that brings me back to the original point...this blog post may well be an example of that.

The time alone has allowed me to get lost inside my head for longer periods of time. This in-turn allows my imagination to wonder into a world of thoughts and hypothetical scenarios which should never be communicated to anyone. One thought which was clanging around in my head last night was about the concept of countries and borders. The more I thought about it the more ridiculous the concept seems to me. Humans are fiercely territorial creatures when you look at our behaviours, even among allies and friends. We all like our own space with our own identity and we have to label literally everything. We are all caged in a way, even more so presently. As I was thinking more and more I started to wonder if we are not just a weird exhibit in some superior species' zoo. We are segregated in may ways like animals in zoos, we think that we move freely but we are documented wherever we go, whomever we interact with and whatever we purchase. If you visit a zoo the majority of the animals were bred in captivity, it is all they know. They don't wonder what is beyond the fencing because they are conditioned to stay where they are. They are fed, have plenty of company and want for nothing...sound familiar? Then I stopped thinking about that and started thinking again about why we have borders, why we need to label every piece of land, why we conform to the traditions of the country we are in just because we happened to fall out of a vagina in that particular place. Then I stopped thinking, opened the laptop, did what needed to be done with headphones over my ears before slipping into a four hour coma.

This brings me onto my last section which is non-offensive stereotyping. I will say before we start that they are non-offensive to me, you may have a different view but that is your issue, please do not bring your issues to me. I genuinely don't care if you are offended, that is your hang up not mine. I am not responsible for your feelings, get over yourself it is not all about you!! I look at people in an objective way sometimes which is unfair but it is the way society has programmed me. If I call a plumber out I expect him to be in overalls, red top, mustache, red cap with an "M" on it and an Italian accent...those kinds of thoughts immediately enter my head. Does that make me a bad person or someone that really wanted a NES growing up? Either way I still think it. It is the same situation where I would expect a doctor to be from the sub-continent or a rapist to be from Mexico...It is the way I have been conditioned by society and the 45th American President. Of course the last one is a joke but I have to explain that as sarcasm isn't conveyed well on written text and I don't want to be banned from Mexico any time soon.

I am not sure how to end this, to be honest I never really am sure how to end my posts as I could keep going but I like to keep this as lite reading rather than a dissertation. If you are going to take anything away from this please let it be the staying in tough part. If not to help others through this then do it for you own well-being and sanity. Thank you for reading and I will be in touch.

Sorry It's Been A While

Hello there....is there anyone still reading these? Well if you are then welcome back and apologies for my absence, Inspiration has escaped me in the time I have been away. In fact I am only posting this because I felt the need to put finger to keyboard due to my laptop being on and my TV being no help at all in staving off the bedtime boredom, Funnily enough I decided to write a poem highlighting the use of our time on this earth. I am going to drown in my hypocrisy once this is posted but for now enjoy. A word of warning though...its written from the more creative side of my brain and not the satirical one, apologies in advance........ 

Ask Yourself

If I were to have the best of everything,

What would my aspirations be?

If my vision were to reach the furthest places,

What more is there to see?

How can we say we are equal?

When we all are unique from birth.

How can we claim to have fairness?

When good blood is spilled on the earth.

We wonder aimlessly in the darkness,

Using only our senses to seek the truth.

The terrain can be hostile, cold and harsh,

As our experience replaces our youth.

Life’s greatest flaw is also its greatest achievement,

No one being lasts forever.

We make promises we know we cannot keep,

And our always soon turns into never.

It is because we start with nothing,

That makes us crave more.

And yet we end with that same nothing,

But we still spend our lives keeping score.

We do things to prolong the inevitable,

To delay the final breath.

When all we do is worry, stress and think,

Which only aids the touch of Mr. Death.

The journey is different for us all,

But the destination is the same.

We all believed that we won’t be alone,

Right up until that moment no one came.

The great mystery of life,

Is simpler than you would think.

Don’t let time simply pass you by.

Allow every moment in you to sink.

Never be satisfied with what you have,

But always be grateful and content.

For when that final axe of judgement swings.

How will you say your time was spent?

Have a great week everyone and enjoy the bank holiday weekend, thanks for reading...

Everyone Loves A Good Pie Chart

Welcome back readers to my blog...Sorry it has been a while. Who am I kidding? It has been ages and I have a very good reason for such absence. The reason I made this blog was to vent my frustrations, my gripes and stresses and turn them into a giggle and a bit of reflection. The main cause for my absence is the realization that I actually have no real stresses in life. 2014 has been a pretty great year for me and I haven’t felt the need to move my fingers over the keyboard and post to ye olde bloge. To be honest the only reason I am writing this post is because I am a little bored due to being injured in action at football and signed off work for the next week!! I hope this is a good read because I can’t really tell if it’s going to be the least bit entertaining or funny as I am a little out of practice and rusty. Let’s find out together huh?...

I have recently turned 30 years young. This means that I am into the fourth decade of my life and I am beginning to reflect on the previous decade as well as speculating on the one to come. I would love to see some stats from my 20’s as a pie chart just to see what I spent most of my time doing. I think it would mainly consist of sleeping, working, drinking, sitting on the throne, watching TV, playing football, eating and saying inappropriate things at the wrong moment. I think we all know the other things that red blooded twenty something males get up to that won’t need mentioning in a blog that so many of my family enjoy reading so I will say no more on that matter!!

Where will I be in another ten years? I’m sure we have all asked ourselves this very question on numerous occasions. I look at some people with a fair degree of envy on this matter as they seem to know exactly where they want to be and how they are going to get there. I look at them and think to myself “please come back to me in ten years where everything has gone wrong for you and you are in the gutter!!!” I realize that this is an awful situation to wish upon anyone but you have to see it from the point of view of someone who has absolutely no idea what he wants to do and where he wants to be. This (not so) little piggy doesn't know what house he should be in when the big bad wolf comes knocking, this (adequately) ugly duckling doesn't know how to blossom into the metaphorical beautiful swan and this (not so ginger) Shawn just cannot seem to locate the Winchester Public House of life!!!

There are minimal stresses in my life as I turn 30. A lot of things seem designed to annoy me but I have developed a pretty laid back attitude for the most part. I tend to allow things to slide a lot more in my more mature years of youth. I still see my thirties as youth and I think you are only as old as you act...let’s just say I am retaking my GCSE exams for the 14^th consecutive year. I still feel young and I can still mix it with the 18-25 year olds of today. I have joined a new football team and the majority of players are under 25 meaning that I am a senior player now. I have integrated well and have been accepted into the social circle of the team and we all get along really well. There are a few things that I don’t get and will never understand about the younger lads of the team. One in particular is the fact that most of them wouldn't look out of place on a One Direction poster...is that the look that women find attractive these days?

I like that I am now in my thirties and I was never worried about becoming a thirty something. I think that age is just a number that determines the length of time it takes for our bodies to deteriorate. I embrace this process and can’t wait to say to my niece or nephew “you don’t know you’re born!!” It is slightly alarming when I hear comments suggesting that I am turning into my dad, although I can think of worse role models to aspire to. I think that if I can harness the best in my dad and focus on that then I don’t think I can go wrong. 

Activity breakdown of my 20's (a few were probably done at the same time as each other)

My Humble Little Cabbage Patch

Welcome back chums to a special edition of my comedy blog. I decided to do a little thought provoking poem for you all to read as you begin your week and move into April. Hopefully it puts a smile on your face and gives you a nice boost for the boring few days ahead. I wrote this in under 20 minutes and I haven’t edited it. I always say that your first draft is your best draft so here it is in all of its raw untouched glory, enjoy...

My Humble Little Cabbage Patch (by Gareth Goodchild)

I started my business from scratch,

My humble little cabbage patch.

They grew and grew,

As my profits did too,

Now I have a bigger vegetable batch.

A calendar year comes round,

And people come to spend their pounds.

They love my greens,

And so it seems,

My patch grows the best cabbages around

A year passes before my eyes,

My plot now three times the size.

The customers pay,

And quite often they say,

I should expand and do more as demands rise.

Another year gone without alarm,

More crops and livestock add charm.

More bodies employed,

More paper destroyed,

And now my little patch is a farm.

12 months rotate as quickly as before,

Demand overtakes supply as profits soar.

My crops turn to gold,

My meat warms the cold,

As my products enter the supermarket’s big four.

52 weeks move on just like that,

A mansion replaces my flat.

A suit and tie,

No more driving, I fly,

As my business joins the racing rats.

Another year comes and goes,

Board members and lawyers trade blows.

New contracts are signed,

New markets entered blind,

My humble roots fade like melted snow.

Now it’s the present and I’m skint,

Defeated by crafty fine print.

The lawyers too smart,

Tore my estate apart,

The shine on my farm has a tint.

So with the remainder of my pounds,

A little patch in a plot I have found.

From the seeds I will sow,

My new crops will grow,

They will be the best cabbages around.

One thing to learn from this story told,

Is that you can grow your own world.

But when life kicks you down,

Take the smiles with the frowns,

And start again, come back stronger and reach for that gold.

Thanks for reading and have a good week J

Half Floppy, Half Erect

Welcome back my loyal readers to another edition of my bloggyblogblog. I guess this post might as well be my Christmas special edition of 2013, although as these are as regular as a trophy in North London, I think I would describe this as more of an annual ‘Only Fools and Horses’ style pathetic attempt at clinging onto the dwindling audience that I enjoyed in my heyday!! Nevertheless I feel that with the festive season in full swing I should rise from the literature ashes and re-claim my throne as the captain of...well...this blog.  I think I should begin by wishing all of you a very merry Christmas and a happy New Year wherever you are and whatever you will be doing over the holiday period. Enough of that tripe, on with what you all have interrupted your schedules to read...

Am I the only one that giggles under my breath when entering a lift and the recorded voice announces the words “going down” from the speaker system? Possibly YES. For one main reason; you all have better things to do than pay attention to the innuendo hidden in a simple statement of the motion of descent. I happen to be very tuned in to all kinds of subliminal messages disguised as normal sentences. Another example is when a sports team has overturned a deficit to now be in front during a game. The commentator cannot help but utter the words “they have come from behind.” With an imagination and level of maturity such as mine that is comedy gold and gets me every time. I may not be revealing the sheer delight to the outside world but trust me, deep down I am chuckling lightly to myself.

I do honestly think that a couple of screws are loose in my head when I notice things, share my perception to others and get confused, angry and sometimes disgusted looks in return. I can remember going on a road trip with a few mates a while back and without thinking I just saw something and bleated it out hoping for at least one of them to agree with me. The response was silence and a unanimous NO from my fellow travellers. The observation was concerning the road signs for junctions and slip roads off dual carriageways and motorways. I pointed to the long white line which represented the road that we were travelling along and the curved line showing the direction of the junction and merely stated that it resembled a half floppy, half erect penis pointing in the direction of Tring and Dunstable. If you have ever looked at one of those signs and know what I am talking about please feel free to comment below and agree with me. If there are no comments then my mental retardation is confirmed.

I also think it is normal to giggle at funny address names. If you have looked on a map, saw a street named Bell End and not even let out a puff of laughter you are clearly an emotionless robot incapable of developing even the most basic of senses of humour. I pity you and anyone that has ever had the misfortune to come into contact with you, you sicken me and I hope you never reproduce and continue your gene pool. I am tolerant of most things but individuals who won’t smirk uncontrollably at a street named Beaver Close or Cockup Bottom will receive no time from me. That last street name is real before you start lighting the torches and sharpening the pitchforks. Do you honestly think I haven’t extensively looked up these names just for my own amusement? It’s in Cumbria if you want to look it up!!

I am fully aware of how childish I sound and I am sure I will grow up one day. Just make sure that when I do someone will provide me with a shot of whiskey and a revolver loaded with one bullet. “If we refuse to accept maturity eventually all trace of it will be lost” – The Captain 2013.

Merry Christmas J

Referring To One Pair Of Boxers As A “Years Supply”

Welcome back readers to a special edition of my blog. I haven’t really given much thought to Captains Blog of late as spare time is becoming more and more mythical in my day to day routine, so I will try to fit this in between my hectic schedule of self abuse and TV. This post is quite an easy one for me to just copy and paste onto ye olde bloge as it is something I wrote two weeks previous in preparation for best man duties at my mate’s wedding. I can confirm that it was well received and I can also confirm that much of this wasn’t said exactly how it was written. I had to improvise when the announcer introduced me as “Gary” and there were a few times when I went off track when the situation allowed, but this is what I had prepared and now I am sharing it with my adoring public. I’m sure there are a few future best men out there who might take some pointers from this speech, or indeed will learn what not to say...

Hello everyone, I’m Gareth, this is Keith and we are Derek’s best men. As joint best men we were assigned to share the duties today. Keith had the unenviable, difficult, nerve racking job of holding the rings during the ceremony...while I get the easy, straightforward job of speaking to a room full of the most important people in the lives of the bride and groom. Thanks guys

Now, before I start, the hotel manager has asked me to request for health and safety reasons that none of you get up on top of the chairs and tables during my standing ovation.

  

I would like to start with a toast if I may to the bridesmaids, who look very lovely and performed their role fantastically well, despite the arguments just before the service...I wasn’t going to bring this up as it’s a bit embarrassing. The argument was actually about who was going to get the first dance with the best men. Understandable argument...until I got within earshot and heard them saying, 'No you dance with them', 'No, you!'

Keith and I were both very honoured when Del Boy asked us to be his best men, we realised that we faced stiff competition from a handful of people who all felt they were in with a shout including close friends, family members, the fruit machine attendant in Showboat and the Domino’s pizza delivery guy.

I have known Del Boy for a long time now. We were work colleagues turned best mates and we even lived together for a while....I’m sure we will both agree that we saw far too much of each other in that time...he didn’t warn me that he sleeps naked...and above his covers.

Those days are now firmly in the rear view mirror and I have definitely seen my little Derek evolve from the guy that washed his clothes in the bath tub with shower gel, brushed his teeth annually and changed his bed sheets as often as he changed his underwear (enjoy your main course)...to the man you see today.

I have to say, when I first discovered that Dezza had proposed to Kim I was shocked...not the fact that he asked her as clearly they are made for each other, but that he managed to pull himself away from his online call of duty game long enough to ask her. As I said Del Boy and Kim are made for each other, soul mates are a better term. I must say you look lovely today Kim and I want to thank you for leading my mate down the path of love and happiness – even if he still refers to one pair of boxers as a “years supply”

This is their special day. I know that both Kim and Derek are delighted every single one of you could make it here today. It is also our opportunity as friends and family to show you how much you mean to us and to express our good wishes for your future.

Time to wrap up what has been an awkward few minutes for me...nothing compared to the awkward few minutes Kim will be subjected to later in the honeymoon suite courtesy of Del Boy.

Can you all raise your glasses and join me in toasting Mr and Mrs Aughton.

Riveting stuff I’m sure you will all agree, thanks for reading...

Throwing My Own Urine From My Bedroom Window

Welcome back beautiful people to my sanctuary for the insane and also welcome back to the not so beautiful people too. Everyone is welcome here, from the stunning to the grotesque. There is no judging here although most of my posts are based on my own biased and judgmental views so be warned. Where have three months gone? There I was sat at my laptop typing the words for my last post, sipping on a chalice of baileys on the rocks planning to make my blog posts more regular. The next minute I am sat here watching the cricket with a bottle of half strength lager thinking “bloody hell I’ve forgotten to do my blog for a while.” This is simply not good enough and I am writing this post with red wrists considering myself well and truly told off. Right then, on with the garbage you all came to read. Let’s hope this is more comedy than my last few, but I can’t predict that as I don’t really know what words are coming next to be honest. Let’s discover what lies in store together...

I am a proud Englishman. I love being part of this beautiful green country and its rich heritage and history. As a sports fan I always feel great whenever our national teams and athletes do well. Last year was an amazing year for British sport with the Olympic Games in London and the gold rush that followed, Bradley Wiggins winning the Tour De France, Andy Murray taking the US Open title, the cricket team becoming the no.1 test side in the world and Chelsea fluking the Champions League in the football. These achievements fill me with pride as a citizen of this country, but are not the main reason why I love being English.

Another good reason is the way we are perceived by the rest of the world...The plucky Brits, the stiff upper lip, our famous sense of humour and our poor dental hygiene. Why are we seen as people with yellowish black crooked teeth? Whenever I watch an episode of Family Guy involving an English gentleman we are depicted as either posh upper class pretentious aristocrats that have some sort of political superiority complex or as scraggy haired common cockney crippled medieval dressed incompetent buffoons. I half expect the uneducated of the world to believe that we still go around by horse and cart lighting street lamps every night with this new invention called fire. I admit that I have been guilty of throwing my own urine from my bedroom window in the past due to high volumes of alcohol consumption and being egged on by my Neanderthal mates. This doesn’t mean that the London streets are lined with excrement anymore and that cholera is a common disease in our nation’s capital.

The perception from the rest of the world isn’t the main reason why I love my heritage though. Nor is the fact that there always seems to be a Brit cast in the baddy role in big Hollywood blockbusters. The accent is well received in certain quarters too, especially the common Home Counties accent that I have. Some believe Cockneys to be Australian for some weird reason and many regional accents are mistaken for other nationalities. I think that our accents should be admired for what they are – proper English...The Queen’s English. Reinvent our language all that you want but it will never be quite the same as proper English. We should be proud of that but it is not the main reason why I love being British.

Our armed forces are admired all over the world for the way that they conduct themselves in hostile terrains and difficult situations. The Army, the RAF, the Navy and our special forces members are the most respected and envied, these brave men and women of our shores are all the proof you need that it is not necessarily the quantity that prevails but the quality. We pride ourselves not on having the biggest in numbers but the best, having fully trained men and women who all are there to prevent rather than eradicate. Our armed forces are a reason for us all to be proud but not the main reason why I love being part of this country.

Another compelling reason is our climate; ever changing weather gives us the greenest of meadows and the lushest of home grown crops and livestock. Earthquakes, hurricanes and tornadoes are rarer than a Scottish appearance in the World Cup. We have it so good on our Island that we take it for granted how lucky we are to have such mild weather systems. Our beaches are clean and sandy, ok they aren’t tropical but with tropical come snakes and big bugs so swings and roundabouts. This is another great reason to love being British but not the main reason for me.

Ok so here it is - my main reason for my love for this country and my pride at being a part of it. I love this country because I can sit watching cricket in my pants on my day off writing a post for my blog drinking beer and no one has any right to judge me for it...

Thanks for reading J