Boy oh boy, what a dilemma...this weekend is forecast to be HOT HOT HOT - in Warrington - so what do we do. We plan a camping trip to the west coast of wales. Is this legal I say?


This weekend (sorry to talk football / soccer again) is the beginning of the world cup quarter finals and a whole host of highly entertaining viewing will be on offer. So what better than to be in a tent in the middle of nowhere without a TV / radio reception / food? Not good.


So what do I do? Do I take my girlfriend to the country known as Wales and spend an uncomfortable two nights in a shitty tent eating burnt sausages and cans of beans OR do I stay at home for the full weekend, lounging around in my new giant bed that, I must say, has the best mattress I have EVER slept on, watching football and eating pizza and ice cream and drinking copious amounts of booze? What a tough call eh?

To fill you in a little more I would like to add that the 'last camping trip' (almost deserving its very own post) was a total and utter fuck up. In fact it was a double triple uber fuck up. I kid you not. Our destination that time was Harlech (again on the coast of wales) and a lovely little camp site overlooking the sea. We arrived just before dark on the Friday night and after a couple of tinnies we went to sleep... only to be woken BY A FUCKING HURRICANE! Yes, the whole camp site was like a scene out of The Wizard of Oz. People were out of their tents holding them to the floor (I'm sure at one point a child flew past me.) There were people with huge awnings that had been totally ripped out of the floor... and well our tent was torn to shreds and come 6am we had packed the car up and were heading for home... ending up spending our 'camping' weekend getting pissed in the trafford centre (#1 chav activity.)


Now don't get me wrong, I can rough it with the best of them - living off the land, eating slugs and nettles and all that - it's just that I like my creature comforts. Don't we all. So I'm left with a dilemma, to camp or not to camp? To be fare in my decision I'm considering the dice rolling option but giving it only one side, thus leaving it to chance. The other five will be in my bed - deal? I'll let you know.

Tonight my girlfriend and I went to ikea to buy a super king size bed. We'd had our eye on a particular number for a few months now. We wanted low rise 'cos we had a whole Japanese theme idea for the bedroom. Well...


Within ikea we paid for the bed and mattress (extra firm) and asked for delivery. The lady ( I say lady... I really mean 17 year old crack whore) on the counter told us that we would have to hand pick the headboard, slats, and mattress (super king) and then go to a collection depo for the bed itself. We were also told that in order to get delivery we would have to pay first, then leave the building and then go to a delivery request desk before actually arranging the said delivery. Well we did this... and guess... what a total fuck up! Once we had paid for the bed frame, mattress, head board, and all manner of other plasticized shit, we were told that they could only deliver on Tuesday. "Oh", I said. Do you not deliver weekends? "No, we only deliver within 48 (fucking) hours of order" - so, let me get this straight. Just because I have wasted my whole Saturday evening in Ikea I now have to have a day off work in order to receive a bed from you? "Yes" - bollocks. They had completely conned us as we had already paid for the items. Twats.


So as a result, my girlfriend and I decided to attempt to bring the whole bed mattress combo back to the house ourselves. For background information I would like to say that I own a black, 16 valve, VW Polo and my girlfriend drives an even more midgetised vehicle, a Yaris. So the whole idea of getting a super king size mattress into the vehicle was maybe a bit adventurous.


Well, we spent 15 minutes in the depot car park trying to decide which car would be best to carry the 6ft long mattress & bed kit. After trying the Yaris first, we decided to try my Polo - only to smash the fucking window in the process. Yes! I managed to completely crack the windscreen using a bed frame 10% longer than the length of my car. Wankers.


So all in all the trip to ikea lasted a total of three hours - including three journeys there and back. Yes and we only live 10 minutes from it. So, the lessons to be learnt from this sordid tale are thus...


1. Don't waste your Saturday evening by thinking that you can get to Ikea and back in half an hour and be back for the football.
2. Make sure that you know exactly how the delivery system works before purchasing anything, ever.
3. Don't own a midget car
4. If you ever need a crack whore - then go to idea - they come in flat pack.


Goodnight (vexed)

Forgive me father - for it has been 28 years since my last confession.


Today I hit a pigeon in the road. It was already dead but I think I may have ran over it. Does this count as murder? I mean if I shot someone who was already dead does that make me a killer? I'm not sure. What if the pigeon was alive and slowly creeping towards the curb. Did I do a good thing by driving over it? Euthanasia? Would it have lived a full and meaningful life - paying its taxes and being a good pigeon? I don't know.


In my life I have killed a whole manner of insects and small mammals. Recently, however, I caught a squirrel in my loft using a giant cage and a brazil nut. Despite being willed to murder the little shit my emotions prevailed and I released the squirrel 450 kilometers away from my house and took several left left right left left left left right turns in order to try and lose it. It has not come back.


But why didn't I kill it? This has vexed me for a while and I now think I have the answer. Size. Yes - in answer to all male dominated questions - Does size matter? The answer is yes. I can easily, without thinking kill an ant, a wasp, or a fly. I have hit birds in my car and not really flinched. But when you step up from the mouse / rat / bird size - It becomes a little more difficult. If there was a rabbit in your bathroom, behind the washbag, would you stamp on it - no! If you caught a donkey flying around your kitchen light would you swat it. No! How about a badger in your garden at night? You see this is why I had trouble with the squirrel. It's too big. It messes with my mind. I once ran over a cat in my car but musn't have caught it on the wheel. It probably hit the bumper. I saw it running away in my rear view mirror and was worried for days about this.


So in order to try and see whether this is just me I propose a question for all commenteers (!?) to answer. What is the largest animal you have killed? Answers please on a postcard and yes, humans do count although Dick Cheney need not apply. Mine's an Otter.

Remember the good old days? When you kinda knew who were the out and out loonies. Those that would wave at you as you drove past in your car. That women who used to mutter to herself in the park whilst feeding the birds. Remember the guy on the bus who used to screech out. Yes we've all met them. Loons.


Recently however the art of 'loon spotting' is becoming cloudy and more hit and miss. For example I was stood in a record shop today when some guy next to me just started up a conversation:


Loon: "I think I'll get him it then"

Me: "Sorry?"

Loon: "No, I think he'll like it, he's always been into his glam rock"

Me: "Okay" (said in a Jim Carey style voice)

Loon: "Do you think I should get him anything else... I've seen a nice quicksilver shirt that he'd like (pause)"

Me: "Er, yeh probably" (properly freaked out)

Loon: "Good, I'll do that then and we can meet up in costa at 2 yeh?"

Me: (scared) "Well, no I'm sorry I'm going home in a minute" (is this guy coming onto me?)

Loon: "Cool, laters"

Me: "er..."

Loon: "Bye"

Me: "See ya" - as I edge away.


I move slowly into the next aisle whilst trying to avoid eye contact - noticing at the last minute that he's only got one of those fucking blue tooth ear thingies in and has been talking to somebody else all the while (probably his mother about fucking fathers day or something.) - And there's me having a sodding conversation with him. Now who's the loon.


So you see it's getting difficult to catch them. They could all be amongst us. Are they talking to themselves or are they wearing a wire? Is he going to turn around and stab me or is that his best mate he's calling a tosser over his phone. I just don't know any more. I think it should be made compuslory that anybody talking on their handsfree should put a flashing light on top of their head or at the very least hold one hand in the air. At least then I won't have any more embarrasing moments in HMV and we'll all be able to sleep peacefully in our beds (well I will.)

Now I don't normally have a sweet tooth but where I work June is cake and doughnut month. As a result I have started to gain a sugar coated skin to my body and I think that I may be full of a jam like material. Today was another Birthday and with it a choice of Cookie, Chocolate Cake or mini-muffin.


At times like these I like to play the desert island desert game. Which would you take? I went for the cookie because I am wearing a pale shirt and I could forsee and incident involving a brown stain. I may opt for a second course of mini-muffin - which has to be taken whole with a large mug of tea.


You have to think about these things you know.

So I've been pretty busy lately trying to focus on my 2nd and 3rd careers, with most of my spare time being based around this - so a weekend 'on the lash' was just what was required to ease the tension.


This weekend - if you are American - was the beginning of the world cup (of football,) and with it Englands 1st game. Just as a side note this is the time of year when everybody becomes sadistically patriotic to their relevant countries by proudly painting their faces and backsides with the national flag. It is a glorious time of the year where men are allowed to shout and swear in the street and women bare their breasts to chants of "En-ger-land En-ger-land". So all in all I've had a good two days of relaxation and neanderthalic(?) behaviour.


I did however get chance to 'talk business' with my comedy side kick (and now best-man) Rich about how to update the comoox.com site to ensure more traffic, more comments and more recognition. This was however all done in a drunken haze and as a result probably pretty futile. Our conversation however did broach onto radio and how cool would it be to do a 12am to 3am slot on a radio station. Just me and Rich playing our favourite songs, getting pissed and talking rubbish. Can people really get paid for this? Anyway as a result of this conversation I had the most bizarre of all dreams... I was sat in a bar with Chris Tarrant (yes Chris Tarrant) and I was talking to him about how Rich and I want to have our own radio show and he replied with "How about a drive time slot on capital radio?" which completly scared me and I said "well I was thinking more of the middle of the night" to which he replied "okay then I'll see what I can do". He then got up and left. I woke from the dream mid-way through texting to Rich that we were going to be famous, pack your bags we're moving to London!!!


So am I to read into this... should this be an avenue that Rich and I wander down. We both have faces for radio and am sure could talk rubbish for 3 hours at a time - if people don't mind us laughing hysterically at each other. Anyway the brunt of it is that during a break from careers one, two and three I have started to develop career number four (I'm sure there is a medical term for 'flitting') and I'm not even telling you yet about career number five (not a word Brits!)


So it's monday lunch time, I'm tired, I've got martial arts tonight and five careers to deal with and develop. I think that I'm going to have to move to Venus where each day lasts 243 earth days. Think how long you'd have to wait until next weeks 24?

Yeh, forgot to say - It's my birthday.

28 years old.

Happy Birthday me.

I plan to celebrate by eating fifty doughnuts without lipping my lips. The whole event will be filmed by channel 5 and broadcast over the Christmas holidays.

Okay so I've been blogging now for a couple of months and am starting to get the ropes of it. Initially I tried to make the content like the comoox.com site and then I started moving more towards reality. And this is where I want to go from now on. I want to be able to use my personal blog to write, well, personal stuff. I'd like to be able to bitch about life - and maybe mention people and places, without there being any come back. I will use this as a release.

Currently I have made a grave mistake and have posted my face to the whole world. I am planning to correct this mistake by changing my blog to make me anonymous -

"Anonymity is like a warm blanket"

I'm a bit of a woman when it comes to travelling. I can never decide what I am likely to need when I travel and as a result tend to pack EVERYTHING!

I have questions that I ask myself such as "how many pairs of underwear am I likly to go through in a day?" or "Do I need underwear at all?"

As a result of this I usually end up with a suitcase that is just a tad over the limit of the usual 20kgs allowed - with six different types of hat, gloves, seventeen t-shirts and four pairs of jeans, six different pairs of swimming shorts etc. etc.

I have however come upon a solution. My father was recently travelling to spain on a flight and had the unfortunate event of being charged extra for the luggage being overweight. What a bummer. Anyway after all complaints failing he got on the plane only to be sat next to the fattest man this side of the Milky Way. I can only picture it but put it this way - the arm rest designed to separate the man from my father no longer existed. It become horrid when he had to lift the guys fat in order to fasten his own fucking seatbelt. I kid you not. Anyway... I digress. This has made me realise that the one thing airlines do not do at the moment (I'm sure a fat tax is on its way) is weigh you. Ahhhaaaaa.

So this now opens up a whole opportunity of hidden body luggage... and this got me thinking further - you know how you get people bringing drugs into the country in condoms that they have either swallowed or... well you know inserted, well you could do the same with clothing. Certain items anyway - I mean I wouldn't want to try to 'insert' a condom with a jumper in but socks could be okay right? If timed right you might get back a pair a day - which would also help with storage - although thinking about it they are likly to be odd aren't they - a bit like the national lottery. I should do a pamphlet on this.

Anway I will leave you with that thought. I'm off now to try and see whether I look presentable when wearing all of my clothes at the same time. Does my bum look big in these seven pairs of pants?

After discovering the best website in the world (www.myheritage.com) I now spend all my spare time putting family and friends into their face recognition system and laughing hysterically to myself. This website is mad - depending on how you angle your face, smile, have your hair and eyebrows - the range of results can be anything from Ashton Kucher to Lionel Richie... below I have posted a couple of my favs.... maybe I should do parties as a celebrity look-alikey.... how does this sound -

Matt - a.k.a 50% Adam Brody. Available for parties, weddings and funerals. Will not do births.

PICTURE REMOVED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT...

I think I have a new career.

Just when I feel that I am breaking all 'I've not been ill' records and putting myself in contention as the 'Fittest man in the west' - I succumb to a sodding cold.

Today I feel like shit. Whilst trying to stop my nose from dripping all over my work colleagues I have also been attempting to moisten my ever drying throat. The benefit of all of this however is that in line with being ill I also turn into the most sarcastic man in the whole of England. I become a master of deadpan and emperor of delivery - all without even indicating humour. To the untrained eye I become a twat, but to a surveyor of all things evil I am a master. Stuff uttered today:

"Do you think he decided to wear that?"
"If I close my eyes and count to ten will you piss off?"
"Hats look really good on you"
"Who the fuck made that advert?" (Talking about the Frosties advert – a post all to itself is coming I can feel it)
"Oh, I thought that you were going to do it properly"
"I'm sorry I didn't realise you were ten stone overweight"

Anyway - I thought I would share this with you as it is the only enjoyment that I get in times of trouble.

p.s. This is not man-flu. If it were, then I would obviously be unable to type and would require you to bring me my lunch. A bacon sandwich would probably help thanks.