Ok, I should start making this blog more interesting by posting some journal-type stuff (thoughts etc.) before my poetic attempt. Reasons for this being, it will hopefully dilute the ‘poetry’ and it will get me back into some construstive writing, which I used to be quite good at. I’m probably knicking the idea off one of my favourite websites at the moment ( which is also a blog site, but the guy posts some interesting cartoons and then goes on to talk about tailored suits or something.

Been an interesting time recently and lesser men would have crumpled into a fit of suicidal depression, but I’ve become an expert in letting it wash over me and finding it humourous. After all I need material for my poetry fettish.

Firstly, went to Belfast with some mates for a long weekend, we actually got 3 electric wheelchairs on an Easyjet plane. The highlight of the weekend, apart from becoming best mates with the night porter (to ful fil beer needs) and trying to find a pizza place at 4am, was whilst in the pub on Saturday afternoon, we were having a flutter on the horses (my new obsession) with some success. There was a group of old men at the next table to us, they looked the kind that would say ‘you’re in my seat’ even if the pub was empty. Peter made the fatal mistake of asking one of them, who incidentally had a bleeding head, if he had any tips, to which he just nodded and obviously didn’t understand a word. He later leaned over to Peter and asked ‘Do you take them out once a week?’ to which Peter replied ‘No, we’re just over for the weekend’, again the guy just nodded and praised Peter for being a great person. Now, there’s two ways you react, create a scene and put the guy right, which will probably be a waste of time anyway, or let it go and have a good laugh about it, the guy was too old to care anyway. Besides, I think he realised I hadn’t escaped from the local home when I got 2 winners in a row and had the whole pub asking me for tips.

So then it was off to Whitley bay for Roman’s birthday, quite a good night got better when glen fell on some guy whilst trying to stand at the bar. Then got more interesting in Time (good music in there) when someone started drinking one of Glen’s 2 for 1 pints, Glen tried to kick him and he was a big bloke, I jumped in and asked the bloke what he was doing and he recons he picked it up by accident even though he was on vodka coke. It’s one of those situation though, as a guy in a wheelchair do you start a fight, Glen might have been beaten up (although I recon the bouncers would have sorted it) but do you stick up for yourself? A fine line indeed.

Now, onto women. A great personal topic of mine. Recently I’ve had fairly brief interaction with a couple, the key grey areas to consider, are they being patronising, are they fascinated by your disability, are they being genuinely friendly or are they chatting you up. In both cases it was hard to tell. At the CP Sport awards dinner, a girl who was with Barclays and was a policewoman came over and started telling me how great I was, she was pretty young and niave about what to say, Danny reconned she fancied me but I let her go anyway, unsure. Then at the quiz a woman came over near the end, she said she thought she’d seen me before walking her dog at night. I thought hello, but she was quite drunk and started inquiring about my disability, I’m never shy about talking about cerebral palsy so I think she was taken back by my honesty, before asking one of the most interesting questions I’ve heard – ‘What’s it like?’. I don’t know the answer to that one.

Off to a book launch tonight, woo I’m a celeb. Check my proper site

Woke up with this poem in my head, would make a good monged dance track I think.


Two colours.
Gently fading.

Two colours.
Fading gently.

Two colours.
Fading into me.

Two colours.
Fading with me.

Two colours.


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