For the love of queues…

15 01 2016

Last night I went to see the Orlando Magic take on the Toronto Raptors with my brother-in-law and a couple of his friends.

It was a good game, going into overtime with the Raptors winning by three points.

At the end of the game, I think I began to feel my feet again.

Let me explain.

On arriving at the O2 where the game was held, I joined a queue outside to get in.

No idea why, but I’m British and that’s what we do.

Fortunately it was the correct thing to do before going through security.

There were four long snaking queues taking an age to move due to, I assumed, heightened security checks.

It was a tad chilly.

My work shoes offered little heat protection.

But we queued on stoically.

We noticed that people were simply ignoring the queues and simply went to the front, barging in accordingly.

Being good British queuers we vented our fury under our breath and did nothing about it.

Still, I’m not sure why these people arrive, look at four huge queues to get in and then just blatantly ignore it?

“Oh look at that queue, they must be going into see the basketball like me. Idiots, they must love queues. I can’t be bothered to be civil to my fellow human beings so I’m just going to jump the queue and make them wait longer in the cold.”


So after about 90 minutes of queuing, grumbling and doing nothing about it, I lost all feeling in my feet.

Just as well that I had a close up view of the game to make up for it.




Beanz Meanz, er, I’m not sure anymore…

24 08 2015

What on earth is going on?

I used to find solace in food.

Especially branded food.

There was a constant, a taste guarantee that other own label brands could not surpass.

From tomato sauce to tuna, some brands were just simply the best.

But my branded food world was turned upside down the other day by the power of just one word.

A word that causes panic amongst some, negativity amongst others and smugness in the rest.

This word?


My food snobbery was put to the test.

With an almost petulant attitude I succumbed to having Aldi beans on toast at home.

Wifey’s on a cost saving exercise.

I was brought up on Heinz baked beans.

It felt wholeheartedly wrong to betray them (does that make me a has-bean?).

I felt layers of comfort being peeled away as easily as an Aldi onion.

And the result?

Regrettably they were good.

In fact I preferred them.

So I’ll tell you what Beanz Meanz.

Beanz Meanz Aldi (and saving a ton of cash).

Dreaming of a sprint finish…

2 06 2015

I mentioned in my previous post about Joshie making me smile while he sleeps.

This was taken a couple of nights ago.

I think he was dreaming of winning the 100m.

Usain Bolt

Usain Bolt

Joshua Mellor


Mr. Bolt, watch out.

Bloomin’ marvellous…

27 04 2015

For our 5th anniversary I bought Abi a tree and had it planted in the grounds of Offley Place where we got married.

It was a Prunus ‘Blushing Bride’ (Shogetsu).

The idea is that we can come back each year to see how it’s grown along with Joshie.

We went to see how it was doing at the weekend, as it’s due to produce its signature cherry blossom.

The tree is very young so we were not sure what to expect.

As you will see from the photo below, it has started blooming.

And so has Wifey.



Childhood heroes visit Manchester…

24 03 2015

Last weekend saw a momentous occasion.

Hulk Hogan posed for photos with Bumblebee.

Michael Jackson thrilled the crowd with a dance off against a robot pretending to be a human.

Clint Eastwood compared guns with Han Solo.

And Timmy Mallett, er, was Timmy Mallett.

This great meeting of minds could only mean one thing.

Stag do.

The host city was Manchester, which felt the full force of “Willyman” on the Friday night.

The numerous hens and their parties that were not so entertained.

That was until their friends Margarita and Chardonnay talked them around and then they loved a bit of Willyman.

After various Manchester hotspots had experienced the delights of this not so well-known superhero, we made our various ways back to the hotel.

I think it was about 4am in the morning before I passed out.

Thankfully my body clock got me up early after a few hours sleep (thanks body clock).

Before I knew it, I was on a golf course playing Footgolf.

Once we blew away the cobwebs, we returned back to the hotel for a quick rest / drink before getting ready to hit the town again, dressed as our childhood heroes.

As we ventured out, we were greeted with insults, compliments and laughter.

It was funny listening to people say “Who the f*&@ is he?”

It directly correlated to their age.

Apparently Mr. Motivator, Monkey and Axel Rose (!) means nothing to the youth of today.

The 80s reunion was marred Jimmy sneaking in as Hulk Hogan.

The 80s reunion was marred Jimmy sneaking in as Hulk Hogan.

And in case you were wondering, I was Dick Dastardly.

Great bunch of lads.

Great weekend.

Great memories for the stag.

Double trouble…

16 03 2015

Yet again, it’s been a while since my last post.

Been a bit busy.

So what’s been happening in my 2015 world?

Work happened.

I now appear in the top Google image search for ‘bruise forehead’ which I guess is the result of this blog.

I had my first trip to Australia and Malaysia.

JJ turned three.

But the best happening so far?

Wifey is pregnant.

Fortunately we avoided the rollercoaster ride that we experienced the first time around that inspired me to start this blog.

We are expecting another boy on July 8th.

Wifey is doing really well and continues to look amazing every day.

She’s also coming to terms with the fact she’ll be surrounded by boys for the rest of her life.

JJ is still coming to terms with the fact that Mummy has a baby brother in her ‘Tummy House’ and that he doesn’t have one in his.

I’m coming to terms with the fact that ‘the big snip’ is inevitable.

Happy days.

Dance like nobody’s watching…

4 12 2014

There are times when we all just want to let our hair down, ‘forget’ the world and go crazy.

Laugh like a maniac.

Cry like it’s the end of the world.

Shout out loud to release the demons.

But we don’t.

We refrain.

Become reserved.

Bottle it up.

Sometimes it just takes watching a child to remember, that at times, we take ourselves too seriously and care too much about what other people think.

That inner child that we all have needs to surface now and again.

To help us laugh, cry and shout out loud.

To release.

I’m fast learning that time is one of the most precious commodities I can never own.

I don’t want it to pass me by too quickly.

So I’m going to release my inner child, follow Joshie’s example and dance like nobody’s watching.

Just don’t come running to me if you end up in a padded cell.