I’ve said goodbye to my Dad and my Brother. Tomorrow (Monday 19th September) I say goodbye to one of my best friends. My poor Dad though, not only did I tell him last weekend that I was leaving the country, my brother did too. We could probably have chosen a better day than his birthday. Dang.

My previous blog post was a kind of informational post about booking the tickets to go and be with Frankie and this serves as a more emotional post. I didn’t want to include anything I will write here in that post as I wanted it to be a happy one just as that day was a happy day. Here I want to write about my feelings and emotions, leaving my friends, my family, my country behind and starting a new life in [foreign lands] (been a while since I used that) with my new girlfriend, Frankie aka @JstCallMeFrank.

But I really don’t know where to start…

I’ll miss all my friends of course, my friends mean the world to me and I do, rightly or wrongly, often put them before my family.

My family are not close in the sense that everyone tries to visit everyone else as often as possible. Family gatherings are reserved (literally) for major birthdays, weddings and Christmas. There’s a huge number of family members I haven’t seen for the best part of, if not over a year. That kind of makes it easier to leave though the family members I have spoken to and seen are naturally sad that I am leaving the country but all are happy for me.
My friends are happy for me too and when I can make it back to the UK I will be hoping to do a tour and visit them all.
In no particular order: Ruth (& Alex), Simon (& Vicki), Rachel, Luke, I love you all and I will miss you so much.

TV. I’ll miss Doctor Who. I am a huge fan of the Matt Smith series the latest of which is only a few episodes in and I can’t watch it on BBC iPlayer as it only works in the UK (might have to see how I forge a proxy IP address…). The MotoGP and F1 (motorbike and car racing) I will miss to a lesser extent, I should be able to catch up with that. There really wasn’t much else I watched, NCIS was another but I’ll be able to get that on DVD or something.

Colchester. I’ll miss my home town. I’ve lived in Colchester on and off for more than 25 years and I’ve owned my flat (currently mid sale) since January 2000. It was hard leaving the flat behind. The sale is yet to finalise so technically it’s still mine. Walking down the path for the last time, looking back at the flat (a maisonette actually) brought more tears to my eyes. To make it worse there are so many of my things still inthe flat that I wasn’t able to find storage for or take with me. I have boxes and boxes of books (I love books and was proud of the collections I had), a huge box of DVD’s, another of CD’s, my bed, bedding, weights bench and most distressing, a dinner set (plates, bowls and cups) that were a present from my (late) Mum.

I have friends that are trying to do what they can (some have a key to the flat) to collect things together and sort out (yes, it is all my fault, I left things till it was too late though there’s a little more to it than that).

England. I’ll miss my country. There’s so many places I never got to visit but those I did I will miss very much. Cornwall for one, specifically camping in Hayle (nr. St. Ives). I’ll miss the English countryside, the general “Englishness” of it all. I can’t say that I’ll miss the English though it depends on what day you ask me. I love the ‘good’ English people, just that the shite twats (read: “chavs”, “benefit scum”, Londers, commuters, builders) spoil it greatly. If all goes to plan it will be at least a year before I return and it will probably feel good to be back but in the meantime I have an entire continent (or two) to explore and beyond that I will be with Frankie. Their employment at the current work place ends in a few weeks and we’ll be spending even more time together which hopefully means I will spend less time thinking about all these things I miss and allow me to enjoy my new life.

[Frankie, sorry, this next bit will be hard on you, I'm sorry but I can't not mention her]
Sandra. I’ve not written about Sandra and I don’t have the greatest of reasons for that. Sandra is my wife (though we split up and are getting divorced – we split before I met Frankie, for those wondering). Whilst things are far from great between us, there was a time, even after we split, that I thought I’d never be far from her. We were, and are trying to be again, the very best of friends. I have hurt Sandra greatly and moving away has only made that worse. Sandra was the biggest part of my life it is possible to be for over 4 years and to ‘suddenly’ find myself 4000 miles away is somewhat painful.

But our marriage did fail and we are both trying to move forward with our lives. I met Frankie and I fell in love (something else I never thought I could do again) and whilst I mourn for the loss and failure of my marriage with Sandra, I have my new life with Frankie and once again, I am very happy.

But Sandra will always be someone I care greatly for, someone I will never forget and someone I will miss. I hope Sandra can again find love and be happy, she so deserves to be.

I’ll be writing another post soon about the next step in my life (that would be Frankie and crossing continents / oceans to be with them) but you don’t need to read it or know it’s contents in detail to understand why this move is easier than it could be. That’s not to say this was the easiest decision of my life (though it was, to a great extent) but I have to look to my future and my happiness and that in a big way helped me do what I have done.

I’ll miss England, my home, my family and my friends. I’ll miss all the little things, the parks, the walks, the way of life, the eccentricities, driving on the left, well made cars, food, the people (some) and I’ll miss ‘Being’ English, which I feel is not that easy to do when you’re not in the country.

Goodbye England. Take care of everyone for me. I’ll miss you and them.

Goodbye.

Oh, I will be back, from time to time, and I’ll be bringing Frankie with me so look out!

Goodbye England, you beautiful bitch. I love you, always.

Now if you don’t mind I need to go and do something rather soppy…

Warning – You should consider this post rated as 18 / R and most definitely NSFW.

This post is a follow on from some tweets I posted last night (July 1st 2011). A lot of this isn’t going to make sense as I’ve not written about Twitter or what I put into it / get from it. However if you do use twitter and you follow me then all should be good.

Additionally, if you are not used to my outbursts of venomous anger this post will shock you. Do I care? Do I bollocks. If you don’t like it then I suggest you fucking rotate now.

I’ll set the scene for you: Actually no I won’t. That would involve a personal conversation that I’m not willing to share. All you need to know is that someone I care greatly about had once again witnessed and been victim to the more loathsome traits exhibited by the vast majority of the population.

First question first: What makes people disgusting?
The simple answer is their nature. I’m sure you all know people you don’t like, people with character traits (flaws) that you find disagreeable. Sure, you might say to me “I dislike them but to go as far as to say they’re disgusting is a bit much” well I’m going to question that. You see, I have a certain view, an opinion, and observation if you will regarding the population of this splendid rock we’re slowly tearing apart. It’s not one shared by very many people, at least not amongst people I have met, online and offline. It’s a view born from experience mainly my own with extra weight added to it by the experiences of others. When I look at my friends and family and the nondescript people that flitter through my day to day life I can say that on the whole they seem to be good people. Friends of course go without saying, family does have the odd bad apple (not me shockingly) and the rest I only see one very shallow side of. However, when I widen that view to take in the town I live in, the county, the country, the continent and the right back to encompass the population as I whole a completely different story emerges.

If we zoom in again, myself and just about everyone I’ve ever know could give you an example of someone at some point in their life shitting on them from a great height. In fact most could give multiple examples. This is a good start as already the crap-o-meter is swinging to the “Majority” end of the scale. And I imagine that every one of you reading this can give one or more examples of where another person has shown themselves to be loathsome bastards.

However, I imagine you’re still sitting there questioning my use of the word disgusting. To me I can’t think of more perfect word.  No better word sums up the low depths of sickness that people will sink to for their own gain and in some cases for no discernible reason at all.
It’s the word most suited because it utterly conveys how these people make others feel. A less offensive word I could use is “ugly”. To me “ugly” can never be a physical trait when used to describe a person but only an opinion about their personality, however, it just doesn’t quite portray my feelings here. One example that springs to mind is men and how they make woman feel when the disgusting lecherous cunts stare at them. Sometimes I’m ashamed to own a dick – until I remember that these fucktards are nothing like me and certainly don’t represent “normal” men. But that’s not the point. The point is they exist and they are disgusting slobs of creatures, ogling and staring at girls, making crude gestures that even Neanderthal man would be appalled at. Of course there’s so much worse culminating possibly in the rape of another person.
But before you all go on a massive man hating rant, woman… fuck… woman can be a whole new level of sick. But here’s a path I’m really not going to take. I don’t need to. My point is made. Look back through the history of our species and you will see a timeline filled with vile disgusting crimes against humanity. Open a newspaper, look at the news, everywhere you turn you will see more examples. Do you get it now? Can you see it?
Of course you’re going to tell me that not everyone is like that and that’s because you haven’t read a single fucking word I wrote. Fuck off right now. Stop reading and just fuck off. Still here? Want to know where you just went wrong? I never said it was everyone. I know that. So now you just look like a cunt. Happy now. And congratulations, you too are now disgusting. For those that aren’t that moronic, the point is that evil, vile people do exist and unfortunately in enough numbers to at some point effected all out lives.

So here we are then. We’ve established that people, as a generalisation (with exceptions) are disgusting. Now we’ve covered that part of it, I want to try and explain why it’s so damaging that we have these people in our world.

There’s a expression people use often when talking to me and one that makes me want to dig my thumbs into their eye sockets:

If so many say / act the same thing / way it must be right.

It is of course such an amazing pile of bullshit as to warrant the gratuitous violence that flashes through my mind and takes every fibre of will power not to act out. The worrying thing about this expression though is that there are darker undertones. You see, the human sub-conscience mind can be influenced very easily by repetition of a conscience input such as sound and action.

I could write pages and pages on this subject but for the sake of this particular post we will concentrate on the negative impact of negative input. Put simply, if enough people over a long enough period of time tell you that you are a worthless piece of shit, chances are, if you’re not mentally strong enough you will start to question it. Then before long you’ll start to believe it. The mind will be focused and in this focused state will start to see what it “wants” to see. To give you a specific example, if enough people tell you you are fat you may well up beleiving it and then when you look in the mirror you will see fat even though you’re not and there isn’t any. Of course this example works well here because it’s also as a result of media and social pressures which in turn go to great lengths to press upon us what an “ideal” looks like. If you listen to social media reports and you read social media articles then you spend a great deal of time hearing and witnessing the same negative reinforcement. The vicious circle spins around and you sink further and further into a pit of self loathing.
The greatest shame of this is that it is exponentially more difficult to do the same with positive thought, though not impossible.

I said I wasn’t going to go into great detail and I’m in danger of doing just that; hopefully my point is made.

How does this all relate to this post? This post is about how people make us feel about ourselves (at least that’s how this is going to be portrayed). I’m 6′ tall and as a yearly average I weigh 210lb. I stand out. I’m big into heavy metal (though there is so much music I love it’s not the genre I listen to the most) and went through the long hair, leather / denim with patches and studs, tight black jeans, boots etc. look. I am also a biker. So again, at least as I have chosen, black leather jacket, (tight) black leather trousers, black boots and crash helmet. What this has meant is that I go through life being constantly judged. At school I got judged for popularity. As I biker I get judged as a person. Sneered at. People avoid me. Pubs and bars refuse to serve me. I used to let this effect me. I used to get very depressed and the effect it had on me was that I started to loath myself. The constant barrage of negative attention eventually made me feel worthless and I spent years filled with self pity.

What’s really sick about this is that the nicer you are the worse you can be effected. Before this world and its virus of a population turn you cynical you might be one of those big hearted (naive) people that thinks the best of everyone. Whilst you may think this is wonderful way to go through life it does make you so vulnerable. If people are horrible but you are so convinced that they are not then the only direction for “blame” is inward. “It must be me”. This is a self destructive train of thought. It doesn’t matter how many people say something to you or act in a particular way towards you or judge you, it is THEIR problem not yours. It certainly does NOT mean there is anything wrong with you.

Don’t get me wrong, whilst spending your life being cynical and negative and angry would turn you into just such a crazy person and whilst I do have these thoughts and beliefs that are with me every single day I am as a whole a happy old soul (and apparently a poet). There has been a massive change in my life that sent me to the very lowest point of my entire life (a place I once thought I could never be at again) but I am not effected by the virus that plagues this world. I’m not a negative person and every day that I am compelled to go out into the world I try and greet it with nothing more than disinterest. Despite everything that has happened and continues to happen, the world doesn’t get me down because I quite simply stopped giving a fuck about it and what it thought of me.

However, that’s me; now I’ve waffled on for far longer than I planned we should get back to the point. As I mentioned way back in the beginning of this post I had a chat with someone I care very deeply for. They were having a moment best described as self-loathing because a mass of people had made them feel disgusted with themselves. All I could do was tell them that it was not them. That is was normal to feel disgusted by other people. They had gone out hoping to have a really good time but instead were made to feel disgusting by the actions of others (not necessarily their words and neither are these but I would paraphrase it by saying they were made to feel a freak, an object of sickening lust). This issue goes much deeper for this person but again, hopefully you can get the gist of this without knowing too much more.

The phone call upset me greatly. There was so little I could do. I couldn’t go to them (at least not there and then). Not that I needed reminding but it did serve to remind me just how disgusting the human race is. And where better to voice such a thought that than Twitter…

For those unfamiliar with twitter you need to read from the bottom up:

And for those that are for what ever reason not able to view images, here’s the transcription with added notes:

People are on the whole, gross disgusting cunts. You (my elite) are obvious exceptions (others apply) but generally, horrible sacks of shit.
[note] The “Elite” are those tweeps that appear on my Twitterati list and to me are great people, people I would gladly spend all the time in the world with. Any time I bitch about people as a generalisation this group lists the exceptions.

People filled with hate (without knowing what hate means), ugly fucking people (that think ugly is physical). I wish you would fucking die.
[note] A bug bear is people that use the word hate when all they really mean is dislike intensely. Dictionary definition may make that acceptable but I don’t. It’s too strong an emotion. It is my belief that you can’t truly hate someone unless you’ve loved them first. Similarly, people that use the word “ugly” to describe someone’s physical appearance. Who the fuck are they to judge someone based on looks. Just because you don’t think someone is attractive doesn’t no one will. Eye of the beholder and all that jazz.

This is not the psychotic murderous ramblings of an insane mind. This is rational thought from someone who sees with perfect clarity.

I am not blinded by guilt or conscience. I don’t need acceptance or defining or approval. I see the world as it truly is because I am free.
[note] Along with the one above: Once you too realise that it doesn’t matter what other people think, that there is nothing wrong with who you are, you too will be free to see the truth about your fellow (wo)man.

But I make one promise to you disgusting cunts. You EVER fucking make someone I love feel like you, I’ll end your worthless life. Painfully.
[note] You take this very literally and seriously.

So in summary: There isn’t really a specific conclusion. Some people read my tweets and got very arsey about it. Completely missed the point in spectacular fashion. One person even accused me of judging them ! What the fuck? So I felt compelled to write this and give you a bit more of an understanding where this comes from.

Pamela Willis, Pammy, Freckles.

On Monday 22nd February, 2010 the world lost its sparkle.

Pam used to annoy the crap out of me. The expressions she uses – notibly “how about no” – and ending sentances with the word “so”; her stubborness clashed with mine which whilst we never had proper rows, it did result in a good few ‘exchanges of words’ shall we say. At their peak there may have been an expletive or two thrown at each other. And oh my god that laugh, that witches cackle of a laugh that could be heard for miles made worse by the fact that it took so little to make Pam laugh. Nothing was too shameful or too cringworthy for Pam.

Picture the scene: You’re in the cinema, the lights have gone down, we’ve had the main set of trailers and adverts so this is the second curtain opening before the film starts so people have quietened down ready for the film but there’s just a couple more adverts left to show. The worst one at the moment has to be the Orange (mobile network) adverts with the witch. There’s a few people opening sweet and crisp packets, the odd conversation being completed in hushed tones and on the screen the witch gets some leaves thrown in her face and her hands spark. Suddenly the near quietness is shattered by a short sharp cackle and you sink lower in your seat. No, it’s not the witch inthe advert, it’s the now jiggling, giggling, pointing bint sat next to you. There’s no point nudging her and you’re not going to draw more attention by saying something. You really can’t take her anywhere. Absolutely no shame whats-so-ever.

But, seconds later later and you’re smiling too. It’s the effect she has you, on everyone (well, maybe not the other cinema go-ers) and it’s one of the things that we love about our Pammy. It’s also why it’s virtually impossible to stay angry at her. I once went about 3 days not talking to her but it took more effort than it was really worth.

I first met Pam in January 2009 (seems so much longer) and we got on from the first moment. We were instantly friends and our friendship grew every day as it alsoo did with sandra, my wife. Pam is so easy to like, in fact it’s harder, if not impossible, to dis-like her. She always has a smile for you and I know it’s cliche but she lit up the room. Infectious is a good word to describe Pam, but in the good way that made even the dreariest days seem bright. You just couldn’t feel down when Pam was around about.

If you’ve ever gone out with Pam, shopping during the day, something to eat at lunchtime (we spent a good deal of time at Baroosh in Chelmsford where Pam used to work part-time as a second job) or to a club for the evening you’ll have been oustounded by just how many people Pam knew. Sometimes it seemed that every other person you pass she has to stop and say “hi” to often meaning that for the next 5 minutes she’s forgotten you exist. But again, that’s just because Pam focuses so much of her attention on other people, making them feel that for that moment at least, you’re the most important person in Pam’s world. And it always felt wonderful.

They say you can judge a person by their friends and it was never so true as it was for Pam. Her nature being what it was, she had more friends than I thought it was possible to have outside of F**ebook. Yes, sometimes it meant you had to wait in line if you wanted to meet up with her; and yes, her sometimes dizzy head would arrange to meet several people all the same day but we didn’t mind. You just learnt to accept these things about our Pammy.

Pamela Willis was the best friend anyone could ever wish for and was taken from us a lifetime before her time.

Our lives will now always have a hole in it that can never be filled. Pam was truely unique.

I miss you so much Pam. I’ll never forget you.

Rest in peace beautiful.

XXX

P.S. … bumface!

Sandra’s words: http://www.sandramarriott.com/2010/02/rip-pamela-willis-a-great-friend/
Media Coverage:

• BBC News
• Evening Start
• Essex Police
• This Is Total Essex

Cantankerous:  Difficult or irritating to deal with <a cantankerous mule> (Merriam-Webster). Stubborn, cranky, surly, ill-humoured, irritable (Wiktionary). Ill-tempered and quarrelsome; disagreeable (Answers.com)

It’s such a fantastic word. Lots of syllables. An old word that’s seldom used today. Perhaps that’s a sign that people are much nicer now than they used to be. Much more likely, a sign that education, particularly English language isn’t as great as it used to be. I assure you, in fact, I know you don’t need me to point it out, people are most definitely not as nice as they used to be.
Hold on though, have I got it wrong? Is it about how nice people are now? It’s a word that often described old people, normally men, who are of a certain age that affords them the time to sit around and judge all they see. Perhaps then it’s just that as that generation fades away, the newer grumpy old men aren’t as judgemental?

You decide, that’s not what this blog’s about. This blog, like most, is about me. I can see you’re already there aren’t you? A blog about me titled Cantankerous Old Bastard. I see you all nodding away. Cheeky sods. But so right.

Not normally a label one would choose for themselves but I like it and those that know me well enough will appreciate the funny side of it.

Let’s have a look at some of the words / phrases listed at the beginning:
Difficult or irritating to deal with: Some people would say so but only because I will speak my mind and some don’t like that. Because I am not afraid to express my opinion or to offer a different view point, some people see that as confrontational. The more educated don’t.
Stubborn: Yes but always with an open mind.
Cranky: first thing in the morning before I’ve had a cup of tea, maybe.
Surly: No, this I’m not.
Ill-humoured: Again, no. Often dark and very dry but not ill-humoured.
Irritable: I find a great many things in this would irritate me but most of them I ignore and don’t allow them more than a seconds thought.
Ill-tempered and quarrelsome; disagreeable: See “Difficult and irritating to deal with”

I like it because when I mention it to people they laugh and agree and that amuses me.

I like it because it’s a great word that’s not used enough. It has such great meaning.

My facebook username is COB100. C.O.B. being short for Cantankerous Old bastard and 100 just because it needed to be longer and it has a nice ring to it. This got many remarks.

Just you wait till I’m 80!!

I came across this on MySpace and thought it was so good that I’m going to quote it here. Written by (or at least, posted by) someone called Billie Williams and it makes me cry every time I read it.

"I saw you, but you didn’t see me.

I saw you hug your purse closer to you in the grocery store line. But you didn’t see me put an extra $10 in the collection plate last Sunday.

I saw you pull your child closer when we passed each other on the sidewalk. But you didn’t see me playing Santa at the local Mall.

I saw you change your mind about going into the restaurant when you saw my bike parked out front. But you didn’t see me attending a meeting to raise more money for the hurricane relief.

I saw you roll up your window and shake your head when I rode by. But you didn’t see me riding behind you when you flicked your cigarette butt out the car window.

I saw you frown at me when I smiled at your children. But you didn’t see me, when I took time off from work to run toys to the homeless.

I saw you stare at my long hair. But you didn’t see me and my friends cut ten inches off for Locks of Love.

I saw you roll your eyes at our leather jackets and gloves. But you didn’t see me and my brothers donate our old ones to those that had none.

I saw you look in fright at my tattoos But you didn’t see me cry as my children were born or have their name written over and in my heart.

I saw you change lanes while rushing off to go somewhere. But you didn’t see me going home to be with my family.

I saw you, complain about how loud and noisy our bikes can be. But you didn’t see me when you were changing the CD and drifted into my lane.

I saw you yelling at your kids in the car. But you didn’t see me pat my child’s hands knowing she was safe behind me.

I saw you reading the newspaper or map as you drove down the road. But you didn’t see me squeeze my wife’s leg when she told me to take the next turn.

I saw you race down the road in the rain. But you didn’t see me get soaked to the skin so my son could have the car to go on his date.

I saw you run the yellow light just to save a few minutes of time. But you didn’t see me trying to turn right.

I saw you cut me off because you needed to be in the lane I was in. But you didn’t see me leave the road.

I saw you, waiting impatiently for my friends to pass. But you didn’t see me. I wasn’t there.

I saw you go home to your family. But you didn’t see me. Because I died that day you cut me off. I was just a biker. A person with friends and a family. But you didn’t see me."

Links:
Possibly the author on MySpace

I really really don’t like Facebook. I don’t like how difficult it is to control privacy. I don’t like all the stupid application.

I like MySpace more. It’s the original. It’s not so annoying. I still don’t really use it though. It’s just another medium to advertise me.

I managed to ignore Twitter for a long time. Years. I didn’t get it. I still don’t get how people get quite so excited about it but I do actually get it now. And I Twitter often. Once or twice a day. It does appeal to me. But different people use it for different reasons. Me? I just use it to post random thoughts that would have otherwise been lost forever. If people find them interesting then great but I don’t care. I don’t care how many people follow me. I’m not big into following other people. I don’t like people that much. I have an interest in SEO so I follow a few SEO gurus and of course, Stephen Fry.

Some people get all upset and angry because someone they are following hasn’t returned the interest. Please. Get over yourselves.

I do also  like Twitter as a method of basic communication. It appeals to my preferred method of speaking to people. A quick drive-by style shout at people. It’s easy, I can do so from my G1 or from my desk. For me it’s almost sociable.

Yeah, I like Twitter.

twitter.com/mr_jmm