Anyway, what I’m getting at is my upset and sadness at the recent teen suicides in America due to what I can only understand as being homophobia induced. It sickens me that in a time when so much of the world is able to accept people for who they are, for what they do and for their beliefs that people have to take their own lives in fear of being themselves.

I guess I am fortunate enough to never have experienced the feeling of embarrassment and fear of being myself – yes, I’m aware that I sometimes act in different ways depending on the situation I’m in but that doesn’t mean that I’m not proud of who I am. It would be the same as someone flirting with the server at Starbucks in order to get more cream or chocolate sprinkles, or someone (maybe I’m guilty of this one) using their diabetes as an excuse for getting their food quicker in a restaurant (ok, I admit it. I’ve used this one a number of times, but seriously – service is slooooowwww nowadays!).

I know the pain of being bullied – not for being gay, but for being ginger. That’s right people, I’m a ginger. Don’t judge. See, I use humour now to deal with the fact that I’m ‘one of those’. Us gingers have it hard, not only are we (as a wide generalisation) pale skinned and freckle-adorned but we are often (through history) perceived as being somewhat different and strange. I blame much of this on TV if I’m honest. If we look back on our much loved shows, the gingers were often either the geeks or the villains – Velma (Scooby Doo), Willow (Buffy), Ian Beale (EastEnders), Emma Pillsbury (Glee), The Riddler (Batman), or any of the ginger kids in South Park. Lets’ not mention ‘notorious ginger, Mick Hucknall’ (of Simply Red fame) or ‘the ginger one’ from Girls Aloud. The latter has recently embraced her gingerness by ditching the fake tan and releasing a make-up range for pale skinned ladies. You go girl! She is yet to make this make-up in an effective manner though, so be warned pale lady, practice what you preach… or maybe get a make-up artist who has pale skin and feels your pain. They may do a better job than your current (and I’m assuming here) perma-tanned beauty school drop-out. That is unless you like the look of SKANK!

Ooh, rant over. The pain of bullied has pretty much made me the person I am today, and I often find that the victims of yesterday’s bulling become the individuals, comics and icons of today. I suppose I have HIMYM’s Neil Patrick Harris to thank for that comment: http://www.afterelton.com/video/2010/10/nph-bass-bullies but lets think about Lance Bass, formerly ‘the gay one’ in NSYNC (hmmm… he who paid lots of money to join a space programme, didn’t get into space and then came out as gay… That’s really all he’s done.) Seriously, at this time when young people are killing themselves due to bullying why would you admit to formerly being a homophobe? Are you as stupid as you look Mr Lance Bass?! I think so. GO NPH!

I wish and hope that it becomes easier for people to be themselves. This is what we parade for during Pride Festivals; what we sign petitions for in order for laws, legislations and bills to be passed and what we write little blogs about our lives, struggles and passions for. We have a long way to go my friends but someday we’ll get there.

I love writing lists. Lists of things I need to do, lists of things I want to do, lists of things to buy at the supermarket (with all the fun things written in purple), lists of people I know (further listed into male and female, straight and gay, whether they make me look bad in photos or not, dairy-tolerant or not etc…), lists of films that I watch in specific moods, lists of things I wish that I had said, lists of situations that I have lived and loved and not forgetting lists of the names of my future-imaginary-husband who wakes me up each morning with scrambled egg on toast and takes me for picnics with our wicker picnic-set and gingham picnic blanket. Like I said… he is imaginary. No man is that perfect, but that’s for another day I suppose.

I wrote a list which was to enable me to be a better person. Nothing about my personality (I don’t think), just some things that need to be done in order to feel a sense of achievement – and we all love a sense of achievement. I tacked this to the wall next to my desk, opposite my notice board (again covered in lists, photos and tickets/stubs from concerts, cinema nights and days out – all long ago I haste to add. I’m not allowed to go out and spend money too much anymore as I’m saving up to maybe go on some sort of adventure or maybe do a course of some sort. We’ll probably get into that at a later date no doubt).

So, the list…

1. Sew badge-blanket. The blanket that I have through scouts where I buy badges from the campsites I have stayed at and the museums/tourist spots where I visit and sew them on. Like a scrapbook, only it keeps me warm.
2. Learn a new knot. People who know me through scouting will know that I am crap at knots. AT and CT bought me a knotting book and a piece of rope for Christmas last year, and I have been trying so hard to learn a new knot. I fail.
3. Practice piano scales. I have my diploma and I can do all the scales I need to know but in recent months, I have become a little bit lazy really and need to get my fingers working again.
4. Blog. Which I’m doing now… Be it a little backwards and retrospective.
5. Watch a DVD.
6. Read. I’m being lazy recently and listening to audio-books. Mark Haddon’s A Spot Of Bother is pretty good as an audio-book.
7. 50 sit ups. See, this is where the list becomes very optimistic!
8. Eat some FRUIT. The word ‘fruit’ is actually in capital letters on the list. That would be such a good thing to do if I were to buy fruit regularly. I just forget about it when I have it, and those evil little fruit-flies are bastards!
9. Write letters. I used to try and write to my brother each week for a while, and have tried so hard to write letters to my grandparents but sometimes I’m really, really tired. Sometimes and email has to suffice.
10. Go for a run. Now this, is something that I can do. I love running in the rain when I’m in Manchester. I live close enough to the city that I can go road-running and smell the rain, see the lights reflected in windows and watch people. It’s getting into Autumn now – which is the most amazing time to run in the rain when in Manchester. It makes me think about where I’ve come from and where I’m going to – referring back to the idea of going on an adventure and maybe doing a course of some sort. Rain is a momentary thing. A raindrop only stays a raindrop whilst it is in the air. It is solitary until it hits another. It only takes two raindrops to start a puddle. Once a puddle has started, there’s no end to the trouble and adventure it can cause.
11. ECDL Coursework. Don’t get me started on this. It’s not going well. I don’t have time. I don’t really want to do it cos it reminds me of the job I had where I still work (but not in the same job, thank goodness!) and how miserable I was. I really should get on and do something about completing the course though!
12. Learn some new music on the piano. This really is a must.
13. BSL Verbs. Verbs… that old can of worms!
14. Write diary. Like writing my blog, but way more personal. Seriously, if you were to read what I’d written in my diary about the fireman in Offerton, you might think differently of me!
15. Organise recipe file. Which means actually begin the recipe file and not thrown newspaper/magazine cut-outs into a folder in the hope that they sort themselves out.
16. Call Parents. I always feel like I’m being trivial about things when I call up. They don’t want to hear my moans about life. Maybe they do. I want to hear theirs though. I’m going to call them now.

They didn’t answer.

1. BSL Adjectives. Here’s an adjective…boring!
2. Press-ups. Another adjective… wishful!
3. Practice piano fingering. Seriously, this is difficult. My fingers always want to be somewhere other than where they should be. They are rebellious fingers!
4. Sort Christmas card and present list. That was sorted one morning when I decided that everyone is getting pickles and homemade things. Nothing says “I’m trying to save for something, please forgive me” like hand-made things. See, the professional photos of me where I look like a children’s TV presenter were saying something to me… Blue Peter presenter. Ah, but there’s the fact that I’m a gay, have had a few one-night-stands and have a sparkly chequered past. Not gonna happen I’m afraid. Just look at Richard Bacon. What’s he doing now?
5. Start sociology reading. I’d quite like to be a social worker – and after enquiries, I found out that they’d like me to have a bit more life experience. WHAT? Do people not read my blog?! I am experienced. Piffle! I kinda need to know more about sociology and care. Should probably learn more about brainy things.
6. BSL nouns. Seriously?! Cat. Door. Pie. Computer.
7. Re-learn trumpet stuff. My brother went to prison for a few months and learned the trumpet. I need to up my game and prove that all the hours I put into learning the trumpet wasn’t wasted. I am still the musical one. STILL!
8. 21’s. Weights. Need to buy or get hold of weights. It does look quite good that I have that on the list. Makes me seem somewhat athletic!
9. Go for a run. I love how that’s on the list twice.
10. Read. Seems that I’ve a thing for reading too. I do have a beautiful armchair in my room now, so I don’t really have too much of an excuse to not read.

What always makes me smile about the list is the statement at the bottom: ‘If You Are Bored – Don’t Eat!’.

Issues anyone?

Today I accompanied my cub-pack to the local fire station. I don’t really know why I’m writing much about this, but I had the most amazing time. My fellow scout-leader TR also seemed to enjoy being in a fire station too. Everything from the sound of the warning bells, the smell of oil and burned things and the big red engine to the beautiful fireman who shared an hour of his evening with us made everything so cool. I wasn’t one of the kids who wanted to be a fireman when I was young. I’m one of the grown adults who wants to be a fireman! I know that I can’t be a fireman as I’m a diabetic but it’s a nice dream I suppose – a dream for a day if you will.

To paint a picture, these firemen aren’t your average NYC firemen – braces, ripped abs and beautiful faces that could charm a kitten from a tree. These are the Offerton Firemen who eat pies, drink pints, and use brut strength to break through chains, padlocks and walls. These guys have never used a pair of tweezers or been to have their chests waxed in their lives. These are men. Like, serious men! These are the kinda guys who would get wasted on a night out, eat a curry or two and then go save an old lady from the top of a burning building – and then maybe save her guide dog too.

We were shown round the fire station in two groups – I was in the lucky group with the bulked-up, slightly dopey fireman, the other group were slightly less fortunate with a guy who was pretty much the ‘brains’ of the outfit. The worrying thing is that I’m noticing more and more is that the brains rarely gets the beauty or sense of humour. Poor thing. Don’t get me wrong, he knew his stuff – and he knew how to pick things up and all that, but I really couldn’t give a damn really. I wanted to see the bulky one pick things up, wield axes and make me swoon. Although, bear in mind that I didn’t express any of these thoughts and feelings whilst being a cub-leader. Hence why I’m writing this now and not saying it out loud. I am developing tact – something that, along with a ‘quiet voice’ is something I’m learning.

The guys at the Offerton Fire Station were amazing with our young cubs. One of our cubs was even lucky enough to be dressed (by the bulky one) as a fireman. I may hold a dark place in my heart for the kid if I’m honest. I want to be dressed by a fireman… actually, scrap that. I want to be undressed by a fireman. Anyway… I’m sure we all learned something today. Firemen are HOT! Oh, and I will now forever dream of being a fireman for a day.

I was fortunate to get a seat at this year’s Lady Boys of Bangkok at the Sabai Pavilion on Sackville Street and was blown away at how amazing the show was. For someone who has really only experienced cabaret in the form of Liza Minnelli or the (questionable) drag queens of Canal Street’s New Union, I was seriously spoiled by this experience. Everything else is positively grey in comparison. (Sorry to the performers at the New Union, if you were to ever read this, they are better than you – and evidently understand the idea of ‘portion control’. You, however do tend to understand the need for showtunes in a cabaret act.)

For those of you who do not know, The Lady Boys of Bangkok is a cabaret featuring performers from some of Bangkok’s most famous cabaret clubs. They mime to songs by iconic pop stars past and present featuring, Lady Gaga, Cheryl Cole, Michael Jackson, Madonna, Shirley Bassey and Bon Jovi amongst others. Yes, I was a bit unsure when Bon Jovi became a musical icon too. The mind boggles!

Their costumes were amazing, and to be honest, after a while I’d forgotten that they were in fact men. I am guilty of spending a good proportion of the show looking for signs of their ‘manliness’ and really couldn’t see anything. Seems like their costumes really are that good!

The miming wasn’t as great as I have seen in the past but to think that many pop stars mime whilst performing less intense dance routines I have to say that the Lady Boys were pretty damn good. Highlights for me were the Lady Gaga Pokerface, Beyonce Single Ladies and Aqua Barbie Girl performances. The latter featured one Lady Boy as half-man-half-woman – a practical embodiment of all that is transgender. A credit to his performance as he looked stunning as both a man and a woman. It puts majority of the men and women in the audience to shame.

On reflection, I am yet to write a bad review about something yet. Maybe that’ll happen soon – I think I might be a little picky with the things that I go and watch, I have a wonderful skill at finding the good in everything that I watch recently. Maybe I’ll go watch some Brecht at the theatre – that’d suck the positivity right out of me!

Anyway, I was fortunate enough to see the original London cast of the musical in 2007 which was absolutely amazing. I had never laughed so much in a theatre and was blown away by how brilliant and comedic the cast were but was a little more than sceptical of how this would transfer when it took to a relatively long tour of the UK in 2010. My main concerns were the cast, the promise of new material from the SPAMalot team, and whether it would transfer to a variety of stage and theatre sizes throughout the country – bear in mind the size of the set when it was performed at The Palace Theatre in London was immense.

All that in mind, I met with my friends this month to watch this new production featuring Marcus Brigstocke (Arthur), Jodie Prenger (Lady of the Lake) and Todd Carty (Patsy). I was nothing less than stunned at the energy and humour that I experienced within this performance. Due to the smaller stage of Manchester’s Opera House I felt that the newer, more versatile set pieces on stage were used particularly well and utilised the band on stage in a way that I have only successfully seen in Avenue Q. The band were used during certain musical numbers which would benefit in the respect of the audience being aware of diegetic sound (Knights of the Round Table being one in particular).

Brigstocke was a suitably ‘geeky’ King Arthur and was particularly quick when the cast were obviously changing certain aspects of the script at times. His humour and mannerisms seen in previous comedic performances is perfect for this role, and I do hope that I get to see him on stage again at some point. For someone who denies any musical training, he is a very good baritone and can scat unexpectedly well – I was almost hoping that he wouldn’t be as good at this as to find a flaw in his performance. I think that marrying his performance with that of Jodie Prenger as the Lady of the Lake is a stroke of genius! Many of us will be aware of her rise to fame on BBC’s I’d Do Anything which was their search for a normal (untrained) woman to take on the role of Nancy in Andrew Lloyd-Webber’s new staging of Oliver! Which she eventually won and gained countless awards for her portrayal of the character. It also didn’t hinder her that in the years leading to her being on I’d Do Anything she had become the winner of Britain’s Biggest Loser where she had lost half her body weight so that she would stand a chance of some day performing in the West End. Lucky loser!

She gave a divine performance and has such comedic skill that she often outshone the remaining cast. As one of 3 females in a predominantly male cast she holds her own in many numbers where she appears from ‘the lake’ at the back of the stage with a voice that would not be out of place in a Vegas show – belting out notes and tones that we can only dream of achieving. Her voice is like honey coupled with acidic moments of a comedic tongue. Her awe inspiring rendition of Whatever Happened to my Part? Gave the audience a mix of Bette Midler, Shirley Bassey, Liza Minnelli, and an insight into her pre-fame life as a Blackpool cabaret singer. Genius casting.

Not to be outdone is the wonderful Todd Carty as Patsy. For those of us who grew up with Todd in Grange Hill (Tucker) and EastEnders (Mark Fowler) I had initial concerns about separating these characters from his performance of Patsy. These concerns were not to be realised as not once did I think of him as any other character I have seen him play. His Patsy was incredibly fast and witty – allowing for us to see further into the relationship between him and Arthur. His voice isn’t bad either – actually, its really good. He sings arguably the most popular Python’s song ever, Always Look on the Bright Side of Life so well with so much emotion and so little forced effort it makes me sickeningly jealous.

The remaining cast were brilliant and a credit to the production team (including the brilliant Simon Gooding – who is (in my very very humble opinion) yet to fail). The music was perfectly performed and what changes they had made  – except for re-writing You Won’t Succeed on Broadway (if you don’t have any Jews) as a song involving Showbiz and numerous references to our current X-Factor culture… don’t get me started on that one! – were perfectly executed.

I spent an entire evening in fits of laughter and didn’t want the show to end. The tour’s cast album has been recorded (so I have been told by Facebook) and should be out soon, so I shall be purchasing that and playing it until my ears bleed. Please go and see this production – and I never really do anything to advertise something, but please have a look at the really funny website:

http://www.spamalotontour.co.uk/tour

Bag of books

Lots of books

Endless books

Time passes but stops with the books

Paper, card, ink and time.

Lives pass through

People sing through the books

They dance through the books

They pose for the books

The cameras flash

Their glossy stop of time.

The life of the reader

Against the life of the subject

The rise and the fall

The final page…

The further fall

The twist….

The rise?

Celebrity biography.

Blog: Written on 2^nd July 2010

I am currently writing this on the train to Stafford ready for a week of Annual Leave from work in which I get to visit various family members and spend some time with my favourite cousin SM.

I don’t know why but I love the journey from Stockport to Stafford. Maybe it’s the hour and a half that I have with nothing to do but catch up on blogging our journal writing, the time to read or even to organise my planner. Whatever I do on this journey I know that there really is nothing else to do. Some people just sit and look out of the windows but I find that this makes me even more contemplative – as if blogging wasn’t enough.

This journey is a little bit different. This trip home has the added factor of visiting my grandparents to ask them things about my mother who passed away in 1997. It has been a long 13 years, with various family fall-outs and secrets gradually revealing themselves and I feel that it is time that I learned more about the mother that I always held on a pedestal and believed was some sort of saint – when in reality no one was that perfect. And yes, it has taken me a number of years to work that one out.

I love my parents Lynn and Phil (My Aunt and Uncle) and I respect all that they have done for Tim (Brother) and myself and believe everything that they have told me about Mum but with this in mind, I need to get different views on her. I’ve heard that this can sometime be the end of the grieving process and I’m hoping that after all of these years it’ll give me the chance to finally put things to rest. (oooh, this is all very Dawson’s Creek isn’t it?.. I think I need a soundtrack of Eva Cassidy or Dido. Whatever happened to Dido?) Right, so yeah I want to get to the point where I can laugh about the history that I had with Tim and Mum and I hope that this is the start of that chapter.

Maybe that’s why I like this journey. It’s the space that I have wedged between my history back home and my present here in Manchester. The more I think about it, the more I realise that I have spent years believing that my mum was this perfect woman, perfect mother and perfect human being. I refused to believe otherwise and whilst everyone else told me different I simply shut them out. It was often simpler that way. I also ignored the fact that there was another person going through everything that I was going through – only at a younger age. I am such a selfish cock sometimes! The journey back home makes me realise that however much I try to place myself out here on an island, there are other people who I need to be with. (rambling rant alert!). Yeah, so I love the journey home.

I just want to know what my mum was like – I’ve spent so long with my own memories, maybe its time to get some perspective on other people’s memories and understand my mother a bit better. x

Last night (03/06/2010) was the most amazing night of my life. I went with my friend KZ to Lady Gaga’s Monster Ball at Manchester MEN arena and Oh My Gaga, it was amazing. A lot of people have commented about how disjointed the concert was due to an array of costume changes and video segments but I didn’t feel that it was all that bad. I agree that there was a small amount of waiting involved, but then again good things come to those who wait.

The support act, Semi Precious Weapons were ok. Not hugely my cup of tea and all that, but they served their purpose I suppose. The 6ft transgendered lead singer Justin Tranter has a self-indulgent stage presence where he dresses the remaining 3 band members in masks of himself – complementing his ever present face on the band’s backdrop. The man is literally everywhere – he even stood behind us with the sound-guys at the mixing desk throughout the Lady Gaga gig but there’s more about that later!. Throughout their set, Semi Precious Weapons got the crowd going with what they describle as ‘filthy, glamorous rock’. I kinda agree with that statement really, there was champagne, glitz and much costumery. Not really what I’d listen to, but they were ok.

We had decided that as the front part of the standing area was free, we’d stand by the mixing-desk in order to lean against the railings during the concert – it was about 6.30 at this point and Lady Gaga wasn’t really due to start till about 9. Just before she came on, I turned around to look at how many people were actually in the arena – to get a feel of how amazing the place was and how big a concert this was going to be – and who was standing behind us with Justin Tranter of Semi Precious Weapons?!…. Morrissey! Actual man-in-the-flesh…. Morrissey. All my dreams have finally come true. I am again in love.

So yeah, aside from Morrissey, Lady Gaga began the show by singing ‘Dance in the Dark’ which is one of my favourite songs on the Fame Monster album and from that the show snowballed through many of her hits featuring Boys Boys Boys, Love Game, Money Honey and Just Dance. She actually had what I can only describe as a ‘Disco Stick’ and came out of an NY subway train.

Around three quarters of the way through the concert, Gaga moved to the centre of her catwalk (to the centre of the arena) and spoke to the audience about one of her fans who had sadly passed away, Anna (her ‘little monster’) had Leukaemia and had been in touch via her brother but had found something in Lady Gaga’s music that had given her the strength to fight the disease. Gaga told the audience this and fought back tears to write Anna’s name on her chest in black marker. She said that the concert was for Anna and that we should be who we are without any fear or shame for we are Gaga’s little monsters too. She then held her hand to her ear as the crowd shouted “Telephone”. The mood picked up as the crowd danced and sang along. Another song and then her beautiful black grand piano appeared on stage for the songs Speechless and Brown Eyes. One thing should be said for her, even though she is not the greatest pianist in the world, she definitely used her skills in writing around the keys and knowing how to work an audience! The piano was set alight and even from the back the smell of the smoke mixed with the atmosphere of the music was intoxicating. Beautiful.

There were a few more songs from the Fame and Fame Monster albums which culminated in an amazing performance of Poker-Face. She left the stage in darkness only for a short VT of an affirmation of Gaga – what it means to be a ‘monster’ – truth, beauty, fashion and music.

Then… the lights started, and through the darkness we heard her…

“I want your love….and I want your revenge….”

the audience went crazy and she kept on singing Accapella.

She appeared in a gyroscope and sang a 6minute version of Bad Romance in which she thanked her band, dancers, all the people who had influenced her in her life and everyone who had come to the concert. During this song I realised that I had managed to hurt my knee through jumping up and down so much and had lost my voice due to shouting all night.

It really was the concert of a lifetime. I thought that Cher was pretty good. But Gaga pisses all over that geriatric

Whilst on the topic of ‘fun-runs’ and things for charity, myself and GW (who is currently appearing on blogs throughout the web as a praised photographer www.jpgmag.com/photos/2117884) got into discussion as to who we would like to see taking part in a ‘Fun-Run’. This is a wonderful topic of discussion, if a little similar to the whole “Who would you invite to a dinner party… dead or alive?” and by that, I don’t mean that awful Pete Burns from Dead or Alive. He will not be featured on any list – unless however said list is written in the faeces of Joan Rivers (another awful advert of Botox. I’m sure she shares surgeons with that Burns guy!). Anyway… this led me to compile the following list that I felt the need to share with you…

People I’d like to see run in a ‘fun-run’

Morrissey.

I make no apologies for my love of Morrissey and The Smiths but can you imagine Morrissey doing a fun-run? After a my first daytime visit to Salford in February this year – bear in mind it was rainy, windy and generally grey, I understand his wistful attitude to life. Growing up there could make you sad. It really could. Nowhere looks lived in or occupied! It’s a ghost city. Anyway, I fear that Morrissey may not see the fun. I’m sure that he’d find some deeper meaning in people dressed as the ‘118 118’ men; men as women (actually, Morrissey had a lot of love for the transgendered community didn’t he?!); cartoon characters and celebrities. Do you think that he ever wanted to be a celebrity in the ‘OK!’ sense of the word? I’m pretty sure he’d be the kind to shun the paparazzi – or he’d get stressed out by them like crazy Britney Spears did. Remember that this is the ‘parent’ who beat a car (an actual 4-wheeled car) using an umbrella…

Germaine Greer

Can you imagine what she’d say about the female runners in their small exercise vests and shorts?! Oooh the shame! Ms Greer would have a stroke. Is she a lesbian? Not that it matters to me if she is or isn’t. It’s just something that I’d like to know. I don’t get her level of feminism anymore – I’m sure that there’re a lot of you out there who understand her need to constantly talk of how downtrodden women are in modern society, but ok we get it… we’re not allowed to forget Pankhurst! I’d just like to say that I’ve only ever had female bosses – and only one has been a feminist who has appeared to hate all men in the world. Seriously, we get it. I’m not sure that Greer actually knows what fun is if I’m honest. I think that she’d not quite grasp that the idea is to raise money for a charity, deal with the fact that you’re running huge distances and enjoy the adulation and praise. She’d probably want to highlight every bloody detail of the charity and want you to know where every single penny is going to be allocated. I’m bored of writing about her to be honest.

Margaret Hamilton (as Miss Gulch)

Who wouldn’t want to run with the lady who played the Wicked Witch of the West?! I can’t imagine anyone more fun. Margaret Hamilton is quite simply the reason I celebrate Christmas – endless repeats of The Wizard of Oz. Can you imagine her cackle as you see people fall over? It’d be awesome! End of discussion.

J.D Salinger

I would want to stand on this man’s feet until they bleed. I suppose that’s not much of a fun run for him. Lots of fun for me though. HA!

Jeremy Paxman

Mr Paxman is number 74 of Peers Morgan’s 100 Most Important People in Britain 2010 (The Guardian). I can imagine that this made him happy that he wasn’t overlooked but sad that he didn’t rank higher. The man is never happy. I don’t think he’d be impressed at the lower/middle class idea of running for fun and for charity. I imagine that he has a special charity chequebook which he writes using a blue pen – I see him as a black pen kinda man really, he’s that serious. I bet the charity chequebook only gets used on a yearly basis. Oh Paxman… He’d stand at the starting line and look disapprovingly as thousands of people brush past him – laughing and enjoying himself. He’d just turn around and walk back to his trailer, put a suit on and talk condescendingly. Poor Paxman.

…. So yeah, the Manchester 10k Run. I really enjoyed the run. I completed it in 1hour 15minutes and 27seconds. Not bad for someone with arthritis and diabetes. My official stats are:

Overall position: 24,205^th – which means that there were 11,795 people who were slower than I was. I was the 14,526^th male to cross the finish line; the 12,894^th 24 year-old to finish and the 7,437^th 24 year-old male to finish. I think I prefer the last number, it sounds more impressive.

I wasn’t beaten by anyone dressed as an animal or anything – when I did the Liverpool half marathon a few years ago; I was actually beaten by an old lady dressed as an ostrich. I was mortified, and pained by my stupid feet (and the lack of mental attitude!). Oh well.

I am determined to do better next year – and maybe get on TV for being awesome.

Last week (on a Friday to be exact) I was walking home from work (my penultimate Friday in the job that I have just left) when I saw a silver people-carrier hit a tabby cat. It was not pleasant as there was a deep thud and the cat lay mangled at the side of the road. As the trustworthy and helpful scout that I am, I rushed to the cat to check if it was ok – it wasn’t. The bloody car didn’t even stop to see if the poor cat was alive. Bastards!

I’m not good with things that bleed and to say this cat was bleeding a bit is something of an understatement. I picked the cat up and proceeded to walk back through Withington in order to get to the nearest vet. It may have been just me, but I have more than a sneaky suspicion that people were avoiding me as I walked – but then again, would you stay on the same path as a man who was cradling what could have looked like a bleeding, mangled ball of fur, or maybe a bloodied fur coat – there were legs and fur everywhere!?

I admit that I must have looked like a crazy-cat-man as whilst I was cradling the cat, I began to talk to it as though it was a young injured child or something. No wonder people will have crossed the road. If only for a few minutes, I know what the bird lady in Mary Poppins felt. If only I’d have burst out into song “Heal the Cat” rather than “Feed the Birds”. Julie Andrews never had to deal with a mangled cat, I bet! Oooh, talking about Betting, does anyone remember You Bet!, the celebrity betting programme from the early 1990s? Matthew Kelly in an awful array of suits with z-list celebrities betting on whether some person can balance 50 plates for a minute, or whether someone can hold their breath for 4 minutes and such. It was all very 90s. I heard this week that they’re thinking or resurrecting this TV show. Bad idea. We’ll end up with ghastly Vernon Kay presenting it with stupid ‘celebrities’ Kerry Katona (not hiding my hatred of this woman), Heather Mills (this woman is a TV pirate – complete with wooden leg), some member from old boy-band Blue and Jade Goody (even though she’s now dead – they’d probably wheel her out to do some random reality-tv again. Once a reality-TV whore, always a reality-TV whore… and maybe that’s in bad taste, but I never said that my blog was going to be tasteful. I have never been a fan of her when she was alive, and to change my opinions now she’s dead would be hypocritical of me. Rant over).

Anyway, I managed to get the cat to the vets and was instantly given a dirty look by the receptionist – as though I’d done it to the cat. I don’t even drive, the only way I’d have managed to do that to a cat is if I’d wrestled it whilst holding a nail-gun or something equally as grim! I assured her of the situation, and she evidently saw the horrific mess the cat was in – and the fact that I was covered in cat-blood and innards. The cat was taken in to see the vet, and I managed to clean myself up in the quite-frankly inadequate toilets – There wasn’t even a hand-dryer. Nothing. I had to pat my arms dry with numerous paper towels.

When I went out to chat to the receptionist she had the nerve to ask me if I’d like to leave a donation to the surgery? WHAT?! Is my donation of a mangled cat not enough? What more do you want? I have a ruined jacket which I’ve since had to throw away as I’d feel bad donating it to a charity shop. Imagine buying it and not knowing that it had been bled on. Eeeew! I said that I hadn’t got any money on me and said that I would call them in the morning to find out if the cat was ok.

I called the following morning and spoke to the same receptionist lady. She informed me that the cat had unfortunately died, but was lucky that I had picked him up otherwise it would have come to a more painful end. Nothing like sugar coating it or anything! I was quick to reply that I wasn’t able to talk about the situation any longer as I had another calling (which I didn’t) so that she didn’t ask me for payment for the treatment of the now deceased cat. It’s not my cat. I didn’t knock it over. It is in no way my fault! I have no responsibility for it. I’ve proved that I’m not heartless; I could have simply walked past. I also can’t believe how much I’m justifying my actions here!

Anyway, cats of the world beware of silver people-carriers. They hit you and leave you. It’s like domestic abuse – but in human terms, it’d be like being hit by a tractor and left mangled at the side of a field. That’s a bit bleak. L