It’s a weird time, my birthday. I always hated it growing up, I think the fact it always lands around Father’s Day was always a kick in the teeth for me. Not only was my dad not around to celebrate my day, he wasn’t around for me to celebrate his day either. I don’t really remember my dad’s birthday, mum was never cross with me for not knowing, simply because it was that. He never was there so I never forgot, I just didn’t know. How sad is that? That I don’t even know my dad’s birthday. I only get reminded by my sisters Facebook memories.

When all the other kids were out for Fathers day meals and stuff, I wasn’t. When they were on the fields, practising football or rugby. I was in my room on my computer and video games. He was good at everything my dad. Rode motorbikes, flew planes (model and real), played cricket, played rugby, did stand up comedy. I mean, he literally could do anything. There’s no way I could have lived up to him, but I wished so hard he’d have been around to teach me stuff, to be more like him. He was a good man by all accounts. Funny, kind, charming, clever, to name but a few. He was short though, so at least I have one thing on him.

Me, I was crap at everything, football, rugby, running, you name it. So, I quietly kept myself to myself. I loved reading, it was an escape, you could be profoundly in love with Pandora (one for the older ones) or off to Narnia. Kids these days get transported to Hogwarts. That’s the great thing about imagination. I wasn’t a sad kid without a dad there. I could be the biggest, fastest, strongest, funniest.. anything I wanted to be. But there’s always a bump when reality bites. Anxiety, anxiousness, paranoia are the worst. When you overthink everything and get stuck in your own thoughts, it’s a terrifying place.

Life works in mysterious ways, and from the pits of sadness and despair, something happened, (everything happens for a reason) and suddenly, my birthday became my daughters birthday. Fathers day changed, from me being an empty child, to a fulfilled parent. I didn’t have to worry or focus on me anymore and what I didn’t have. I could focus on this amazing gift, sent to show me that things always turn out okay. There’s always a reason.

Sure the anxiety remains, the self doubt nags away. It’s different, but at least there’s a reason to smile. I always wonder if I was a good son, and I’ll always worry if I’m a good dad.

It’s okay not to be okay, and when you’re struggling, really struggling, talk to your loved ones, your pals, anyone that will listen. Sometimes a different perspective changes everything. Life is so so precious, and can be gone in the blink of an eye, so never take anything or anyone for granted.

Tiller Toward Trouble (Guest Post)

Content warning – Mature adult themes of an uncomfortable nature.

So here, we have a guest post from a friend. A blog which I felt, rather than read. Something which contains harrowing mental images which have been written about, for want of a better word, beautifully. This persons writing style is off the charts and I’m privileged to be able to host it for you. Enjoy would be the wrong phrase, so I shall just say, read, feel, and understand…

So, yet another person has now offhandedly referred to me as a Phoenix…this week. I always just assumed it was the hair. Perhaps even a comment on my hurricane-like personality, a pun on the raku, anything. I never really know. That’s pretty much a theme now, the not knowing. I’m trying to learn how to just accept it – you will too. I promise.

Other people make sense.  Get used to it.

And, before we get down to brass tacks – there’s a story here – there’s always a story, that’s all we are. If you aren’t ready to read it you may want to give this a pass, it’s a little intense.

First, generally I’ve focused on people “on the outside” – tried to reach the people who didn’t understand because they simply had different lives. It would break my heart to see their eyes, to recognize the looks of horror and helplessness. That was after I learned what to keep quiet though. Quite honestly, I was that odd writer chick who wrote about nightmares, and everyone acted like it was so kind I’d taken an interest in the plight of those ‘poor lost souls’ – it never occurred I was a ‘them’ – still doesn’t.  I honestly, arrogantly, thought if I could help bring light to the subject it would help people. Evil feeds on the dark.

It didn’t.

All the stories became ‘just another sad story’, someone else’s sad story, some type of grotesque carnival act as people salivated for details.  Things that only happen in far away places or other cultures or different socioeconomic groups, or just anyone else. Pick a label. There’s always a label.

So, in the very heart of the “Change It or Adapt” mindset we develop, I’m adapting. I’m switching audience. I’m speaking to survivors.

Hello, dear. I’m proud of you. You’re alive.

Don’t scoff. I don’t buy it. I know you’re embarrassed. So, I’ll say it – maybe a little louder for the people in the back. There’s nothing wrong with having survived what tried to kill you.  Yes, I know the normal people read that too, it’ll be ok. They’ll adapt. We aren’t the only ones that can do that you know. Feels like a lie saying survivor, doesn’t it? There’s always someone who has it worse after all. For what it’s worth – I agree with you.

I’ve read the inspirational success stories, and the powerful blog posts about overcoming just like you have. I’m happy for them just like you are.  They amaze me, and are goals, and genuinely fill me with hope. And when I wake up in a cold sweat alone in the middle of the night I think of them and I feel like I’m just as much of a failure as you do. Ooop, oh boo – you think it was only you? Survivors guilt is insidious.

I hate signifying. It makes my skin crawl too. You know, when you’re sitting with your friends and hear stories…and suddenly realize you’re so very ‘other’ – Which were you? The hang a lantern on it kid, or the hide it under perfection kid? Doesn’t matter, variations on a theme.

So, that’s what this post is. It’s the “Don’t do this” of survivor stories. You can get inspiration anywhere. But, sometimes it isn’t inspiration that people need, is it? It’s the scrapes and bruises we learn from. Your friends are your friends – not your therapists. You have to save yourself, good thing you have experience in that. And, if you’re very very lucky – you may have some that will stand beside you while you do. Hope springs eternal.

I’ve struggled with which story. Anything too young and there’s no sense of responsibility, anything too old and it’s just repeating a pattern. I’ve deleted and hem-hawed and stalled in some of the most creative ways. Finally it hit me, that one pivotal moment. That one weekend that honestly wasn’t that bad, but, it changed how the world looked.

Friday was like any Friday, I stayed out as late as I could so I could get into our apartment at a time I wouldn’t be seen. I knew I’d be alone, I usually was, with work and school schedules sometimes it was days between when I’d see my mom. But, I was an incredibly mature kid, I knew how to take care of myself, it was fine. I also new how to pick locks, so we didn’t have to worry about me having a key that could get lost, it was much more efficient for me to just let myself in. Our downstairs neighbor had a key, incase there was any emergencies.

I got home, slipped off my shoes, and went up the stairs silent as death to jimmy the lock and get in. One jiggle on the handle and I heard the rustling inside. He was in a mood and easily twice my size and I hid. I actually hid. I was thin enough to slip behind the dryer and the wall of the shared laundry room before the door opened. After a good half hour of raging around looking for me it got quiet, I hate quiet. Apparently I’d gone to my friends for a sleep over or something. When I slipped out and got into our apartment and into my room I vividly remember swearing I’d never hide from anything ever again. Ever.

Saturday I woke up, alone, early, and slipped out to spend the day with my friend. There wouldn’t be anyone to notice me gone, people rarely knew where I was, or so I thought. But, when I got back the door was ajar, and my room was occupied, and I refused to hide. He sat there on my bed twice my mass and nearly three times my age like he owned the damn place and I pitched an absolute seething fit, which was probably ridiculous because how scary can a twelve year old actually be? But it worked. It finally worked. I didn’t even blink. The early evening was absolutely glorious. I drank tea and watched tv in the living room like a proper person. I told myself with enough determination you can do anything. For a couple of hours it was like my life had absolutely turned around. I’d learned only kids hide.

Evening turned to night and his girlfriend showed up and I learned about cause and effect and consequences.

The building was old and the walls and floors were thin and his room was right under mine. This time there was no hiding. All the while he was assaulting her and then beating the living tar out of her I could hear him yelling it was my fault, and I was next. Simple solution, right? I called the police and managed to drag the dresser in front of my door. She wouldn’t go with them. She didn’t want to get him in trouble. They left. I finally managed to fall asleep despite the noise and yelled promises. I knew I was next, I always was.

Sunday I got ratted out and learned it’s not nice to call the authorities on people.

Familiar, isn’t it? Variations on a theme. We all have that one moment, that instant that sparks the guilt. It always looks different, but we all have it. And, we all look back on it with adult eyes. It’s easier to be angry at yourself that way isn’t it? That’s what starts the pattern, and there’s only one way to stop it. When they get to you physically it just hurts, and it just passes. Mentally, it’s like a worm that just burrows in, but with patience you can get it out. But when they find your heart…

You’re not a kid, and it wouldn’t matter anyway because you can’t hide.

So, here’s your stare it in the eye moment. That moment that sparked yours – actually look at it. Quit digging yourself in deeper and just shut up and see it. Quit falling for the noise. Your perspective will shift – rather drastically. All the normal people have no idea why you’re apologizing for being alive. Look at the kid and see if you can figure out one good reason to keep doing so. Ten minutes ago I could have given you fifty without batting an eye. But, then I quit panicking and just wrote the story, and now I can’t think of a single one.

Be Kinder – Caroline Flack follow up

I’ve heard about the Caroline Flack documentary, and as I write this, I’m watching it. Inspired to do so by my guest post by JD. You see he’s one of lifes good guys. Genuinely. Someone who, despite having never met, I know tries to make a difference.

How do I know? Well one time when I’d gone off twitter for a short while. He sent me a card, just to say hey, just to check in as it was the only way he could contact me. He didn’t have to, he just did it. Went out of his way.

Caroline was well known, a familiar face on TV and on the front pages of the newspapers. She was a beautiful, funny, talented woman, ultimately a victim of her own success.

Watching the documentary, there’s a harrowing moment where she’s recording a video, distressed, wrapped in a parka and a yellow burberry scarf. Trying to scrape the tears from her face, saying the only person she’s ever hurt is herself. I can’t imagine how watching that makes her family and friends feel. It makes you want to reach through the screen and reassure her it’ll be okay. However, it won’t be. She’s now just a bookmark in entertainment history, but we must learn from her tragic loss and do better.

It was a fight, I’ve never hurt anyone in my life. The only person I’ve ever hurt is myself.

Caroline Flack

#BeKind shouldn’t just be a hasthtag that’s used to make us feel better. ‘Oh I wrote Be Kind so I’m good’. Look through your last 20 tweets. Is everything you wrote, particularly about someone else, true, necessary and kind. If the answer to just ONE of those is NO then why’s it there? Delete it!

Too many people are quick to write negative things. Just a few weeks ago, a good friend was thrilled to be playing a vinyl of one of her favourite artists and she tagged them in the short video. To my surprise.. I saw a reply that began ‘unpopular opinion’. Then I was gobsmacked to read something derogatory about the band. They’d untagged the band which I guess they thought was a kind thing to do. But it just showed me that the comment was unnecessary. Why do people on social media feel the need for controversy just for the sake of it. Or one-upmanship. Many times I see someone post a new release song they love. Instead of just letting people enjoy it, others are quick to boast and brag that they heard it weeks ago because they curate for a radio show or similar. For goodness sake just let the people that buy the merch and stream the music enjoy it. Praise the artist for a great song. Don’t make it about you, it’s such a dick move.

Watching the comments about social media, it was like an addiction for her. People posting the most abhorrent tweets about her. But she couldn’t stop looking, I guess she just wanted to be loved. She bottled all of this up from those she loved though. How many of us say, ‘yeah I’m fine’ when really there’s a whole heap of problems rolling round the back of your head. How someone can actually have written ‘Caroline Flack is one of the ugliest hosts on tv’.  I mean.. come on.. she was simply stunning.

I guess there are two things I take from this. 1. Be careful what you post, you can’t see someone’s reaction behind a screen. You may say something that might seem funny to you but you might just have inadvertently mentioned something about their biggest insecurity. It starts with you. You might be one sole voice in a sea of millions but you aren’t responsible for those others.

The other thing is check on your friends. The signs for Caroline were there, the reliance on social media, the craving to be loved. The fact her mum would dread her inevitable splits from boyfriends because she couldn’t handle heartbreak is just so desperately sad. The story of her final Christmas is again just haunting. Her family thrilled to be around her for a special day. Seeing the images of the bedroom, and the implication that the blood spilled was her actions on someone else, not herself, again is desperately sad and plain wrong. Seeing the sadness in her twin sister is just heartbreaking when she’s asked what she’d say to her now, and she awkwardly fidgets with her earring, her eyes glass up and she delicately whispers ‘I don’t know’.

Sometimes you have to be persistent. If your friends aren’t responsive, be patient. Keep checking. If you stop, they may think no one cares. I am sure that like Amy Winehouse, one person could have made a difference for Caroline too. You can be that difference and it starts with a little kindness.

Be Kind – Caroline Flack

Guest post by JD

Be Kind…. Life is short and precious…. 

Having watched earlier this week, the hard hitting but poignant documentary Caroline Flack: Her Life and Death… Her story has given me time to reflect and I have to say it is one of the most emotional pieces of TV I can remember watching. It was not easy, I felt sad, helpless, guilty and frustrated…. I am not sure which of these emotions I felt the most but they made me want to put pen to paper, something I have never done before….

We live in a world where we are quick to judge, say negative things and at times hurt people for no particular reason. People that we may know, but also people we do not have a relationship with.  In a climate where the pandemic has magnified people’s mental health and social media can be all encompassing, it is easy to say something that may make us feel better, but at the cost of someone else… Some seem to find it cathartic to post something that, both intentionally and unintentionally can be upsetting or offensive to an individual. We all need to take time to think before we say something.  

Like everyone, I want to feel good about myself, but more importantly, I want to make others feel good about themselves. Life is not easy at the best of times and I am sure there are people we all may know who need support, some help, a shoulder to cry on or just an ear to listen, however small their problems or challenges may be. Quite often though people look or seem ok when they aren’t.

I’m fortunate to have good friends around me, including virtually, and some friends will tell me I say it too much, but we are here for a good time not a long time and if you don’t have something positive to say then say nothing. Maybe it is a cliché but if we all take 5 minutes to say hi, send a text, make a call or write a letter it might just make a difference.

Caroline will be missed by many people and I feel so much for her friends and family, and there are other families who will be in the same situation.

We should all do something nice for someone today, let us all look out for each other as we hopefully come out of the pandemic.  Life is precious, and I hope all those struggling will get some support from those around them. 

RIP Caroline … #BeKind #ItsOkayNotToBeOkay #Mental health

Just another day as the years roll by

It’s hard when somethings gone and you’ve never really had it in the first place. You know, that nagging feeling you’ve forgotten something but you can’t for the life of you think what? It’s there in the back of your mind somewhere, but try as you might it just won’t spring to the fore.

I guess that’s how I can describe not having my dad. He was never there, but I knew he was missing. The years have rolled by. Forty three years to the day to be exact. I torture myself with have I wasted my years. After all, I’m six years older than he was when he was cruelly taken away on that snowy winters day. He’d done a lot. Captained the local cricket team, played rugby to a decent level too. He fancied himself as a comedian and even won a talent contest at Butlins.

He worked so hard, he’d worked down the pits as a lot of kids his age did in the grim towns of the North.  When the pits closed though, he didn’t sulk, he cracked on and qualified as a teacher. He even taught future world champion boxer John Conteh. Dad would probably joke that he taught him everything he knew to be honest.

As for playing hard, yep, he did that too. He was forever taking motorbikes apart, usually in my grandma’s kitchen. Much to her annoyance. When he wasn’t doing that he was building and flying model aircraft. I think he did it at Burtonwood. That used to be a magical place for me as a kid, but since the old aircraft hangars have been replaced with modern warehouses for The Hut Group and Dominoes… it’s kind of lost it’s charm. He didn’t stop at model aircraft though and when he left us,he’d actually completed many hours training to be a pilot. He was a right daredevil my dad. Me, not so much. Maybe, just maybe I’d be a bit more daring if I’d have had more of his influence rather than just his genes.

But, as one of my favourite Feeder songs exclaims

We can’t rewind!

I don’t know what he’d make of Covid. He’d probably shrug his shoulders and get back to fixing or tinkering something as the world rolls on. I’m sure many of you have lost loved ones. As one of my good friends said today ‘it’s the circle of life’. I quickly replied ‘alright Elton’. Maybe I have got some of his comedy genes after all, as they found it hilarious.

As some of you know, mum’s not been well either. Her MRI showed she’d had four strokes not the three we believed. However she is a warrior. She’s faced so much in life and still battles on. I’m not sure how my heart will cope when anything happens to her. I mean I know it will. When you’re younger, most just take for granted that your parents will be around. They seem indestructible. Especially when handing out punishments. As you mature though, you see their weaknesses grow and their shield lower. You become the one worrying about them, protecting them. It’s a sobering moment, that’s for sure.

I guess that’s why the years rolling by without dad get easier. As much as I’ve never heard his voice or smelled his scent. It wasn’t taken from me as a memory. Just a dream, one which I can play out however I imagine.

I miss him, I always will. My sisters got the holidays and the memories, but they also got the heartbreak much more than I did. So I feel for them more than I used to. I used to be jealous but no one wins, every hurt is valid and relevant to every person.

So please, whatever you do, be kind. Always.

2020 Vision

As the clock struck midnight to usher in the New Year, I was filled with optimism. Despite 2019 not being a great year, I convinced myself that this was going to be better. I was eagerly anticipating moving into my new home. I had got my running to a really, really good level. I was healthier than I had been in a long time. I’d spent alot of time managing gigs and becoming more involved in Softlad Promos, and despite losing one of my best and longest standing friends I was looking forwards not backwards.

Sure, I’d made a couple of mistakes in my personal life. Forgivable, if not forgiven. I regret the hurt I caused, but don’t think I deserved the hounding I got over one of them in particular. But that’s in the past and not the point of this blog. I even had a date lined up for the first week in January with someone who I had admired from afar and man was she beautiful. On top of this there was also the Smut Marathon to look forward to. It was going to be a busy year no doubt.

Fast forward 3 months and St Patricks day. The dating was going swimmingly. Despite it never being a relationship, it was fun, exciting, sexy. We connected and had the best of times for those fleeting months. I never knew St Patricks day would be the last I saw of her, but I don’t regret a thing, not even the gesture that in my opinion ruined it all, despite it just being read completely wrong. It’s just who I am.

After my twitter drama in January/February (with reprisals in April and June and September) I had to change my account for the Smut Marathon and little did I know how important this writing competition would be for me. The competition had to be shelved, which was a really sad state of affairs, as once again the ugly side of social media was laid bare. However, It did bring me closer to the organiser Marie Rebelle. We spoke often. We listened caringly, we shared tales both happy and sad. Marie always takes the time to read and comment on my blogs. To have that from someone who writes so wonderfully is incredible. The fact I get to call her a friend blows that out of the water though. Along with Marie I made some amazing writer friends along the way. Myself and Jae Lynn bonded over a love of music and most notably Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Go Your Own Way‘ and now rather than being a writer friend. Jae is simply a friend who writes.

Not only did I connect with Jae but I also stumbled across Carolyna Luna. We bonded over stickers (who knows, 2021 may be the year I get them) as well as writing and music and Star Wars and Bourbon to name a few. She inspired me to write when I didn’t have the words. She encouraged my confidence when I’d found my way with my new twitter but more than that, she became a huge part of my daily life.

As lockdown continued, I stumbled across the #VirtualPubCrawl when Shiner Sam posed a selfie one day with a beer and a band tee. All of a sudden I was engrossed by this wonderful community. Raising money for charity whilst drinking beers and listening to exquisite music. I mean… what is that about! Too good to be true right? But as the clock struck 3 every other weekend, the chords to Primal Screams ‘Loaded‘ signalled the start of the madness. There are far too many people to mention that have made this an amazing part of my year and everyone that has spoken to me or tweeted or done a down in one or donated to charity are all legends. However it would be remiss not to mention a handful. Al Burke was the first person to speak to me and become a friend. Then there are a ton I plan to meet in 2021. Andie, Ems, Danny, JD, Kirsty, Jake, Paula, Ady, Andy, Al, Dom, Rob, Matt, Sarah, Sarah, Russ, Redders, Dan, Amy, Michael, Lisa x 2, Johnny, Richie.The list really is endless and that’s before I even mention all the bands.. again special shout outs to Revivalry and Citylightz, you guys are the absolute bomb.

Now I make no apologies for mentioning these next few people who made my year much more bearable. People that transcended Twitter and I met in real life.

Lilycat – You gave me confidence and support in the unlikeliest of circumstances. You were the best part of the first quarter of 2020. Thanks for the Peanut Butter Latte and well just for being you. Keep swishing your pony.

New Indie Sounds. Mate. That night in Manchester was just the best. Never met someone that felt like an old pal within a few minutes. I promise I’ll get you that drink back when tier 4 lifts.

Indie Rob and Gems. Rob. You gave me so much this year buddy. You helped me through an awful time and I cannot thank you enough. Gems. Who knew we have probably been in each others presence so many times in Wigan and never even knew we existed. So much love for you two.

Scott and Kay. What an amazing couple you are. The kindest people I know.. how you treated 12 was the most warming thing I witnessed in 2020. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Sam. Thanks for giving me some much needed confidence over summer. Amazing to think 12 months ago you never knew I existed. But I did with you. Yet here we are now and I can class you as a friend. Probably the craziest thing to happen to me in 2020. Keep being that new music champion but more importantly keep me posted on my fav, Beryl

Dating was a bit hit and miss in 2020 some incredible highs and some earth shattering lows. So let’s just leave that eh.

A special mention to my twitter bro and twitter sis. Syriz and Vimtotime. Again 2 absoluye shining stars. Both with amazing twitter accounts that I just connected with.

To Amy, who’s been there on twitter for me for over a year. Making me laugh daily and sharing her beautiful blogs and amazing pics.

To Splintercat who keeps me in check, never let’s me get too big for my boots and keeps me in tea and cakey. A smile is never far away.

Finally, my last memory of 2020 is dedicated to my mum. She’s had the toughest of years. 2 strokes, losing friends with alarming regularity (nooo not falling out with em, them sadly passing, no she didn’t do it) . One of the best things about seeing 2021 in will be the fact my mum gets to see it in as on more than one occasion I was frightened that she wouldn’t.

So as 2021 arrives. Here’s to health and happiness. To kindness and care and to getting back to doing the things we enjoy with those that we love.


Strong – Adjective – Able to withstand force, pressure or wear.

Excuse me for a while, While I’m wide-eyed and I’m so down caught in the middle

I’ve excused you for a while, While I’m wide-eyed and I’m so down caught in the middle

And a lion, a lion, Roars would you not listen?

If a child, a child, Cries would you not give them?

Yeah, I might seem so strong, Yeah, I might speak so long

I’ve never been so wrong

London Grammar – Strong

Like love and hate, there is an incredibly fine line between strength and vulnerability.
Two people who I have become close to, underneath the surface, have been dealing with so much, even disregarding this shitty covid year.
They have faced very different but nonetheless difficult times. However to a casual observer, you wouldn’t know a single thing was hurting their beautiful hearts.
I mean, I feel privileged to have become close enough to them that they allowed me to see them at their most vulnerable. It displays a huge amount of trust to be given this no holds barred, soul bearing view.
They’ll get through it, I know they will, even if they don’t. Hopefully I’ll be able to help them raise a few smiles along the way.
That being said, there’s a friend of a friend who’s having just the absolute worst time possible. Like hand on your heart, blow after blow, crushing time.
It’s not at the hands of a malicious ex though, or anything at all like that. They are facing the biggest battle, and man does my heart ache for them.
I mean, why does it happen to the beautiful souls, with so much to give? Why does it always home in on their greatest attributes to weaken them?
It’s in these moments though when they see who’s got their back. Who’s worth their time. There is a phrase,

Darkness can only be scattered by light and hatred can only be scattered by love.

Pope John Paul II

It’s true on both counts. When you’re down and you’ve reached the bottom. In your darkest moments, there will almost always be someone there for you.
A little beacon of light for you to gravitate towards. In this case, this person has at least one that shines brighter than a light saber. AT LEAST ONE, and to be honest, even if they only had this one person, I know that would be enough.
Nothing is ever too big or too much trouble. So when you’re reading this, know that you can focus on what’s ahead, as you know your back is covered.
You’re stronger than you think, but let others take up the slack when you want to be weak. No one will judge you for it. Be kind to yourself above anyone else.

When those times hit, have a listen to the playlist. I hope it helps you get through a moment, because ultimately, that’s all they are, just moments in time. And each one that passes is another big win. If you ever need anything then know you have someone else to call upon, unconditionally……..

You got this.

S’il vous plait

Final check of the mirror, make up done, dress straightened, a little cleavage, but not too much. Quick check in the bag, phone, purse, keys, lipstick, “parfait” she thought.

The taxi journey felt like an age, she had waited so long for this night and it was finally here. As the rain pounded down on the metal and glass surrounding her, the bright lights of the city reflected in the puddles outside, finally she was there. The doorman of the hotel opened the car door, the revolution of Uber meant no scrabbling round for spare change and worrying about whether the tip was right.

As she made her way through the lobby, her heels clicking on the tiled floor, she felt the butterflies in her tummy. It was as though everyone was watching her, like she was in a movie. She took her seat at the booth in the corner of the bar and ordered an espresso martini, she desperately needed the caffeine hit.

“Oh and may I have a glass of soda water too , s’il vous plait” the French subconsciously slipping out at the end.


Watching the clock tick, the sound almost deafening as the day slid away. The reservation was for 8pm but it still felt like an eternity away. Walking into the bathroom and turning the shower on, the towel dropped to the cold hard floor and he tentatively stepped under the shower head, the hot beads bouncing ferociously off his taut body. Squirting some shampoo into his palm and massaging it into his scalp, turning the temperature dial up so the water was almost boiling, skin reddening as he rubbed the soap across his chest. His eyes closed and mind wandered back to that one fleeting moment they had actually met, her chocolate skin glistening under the lights, her piercing eyes staring right into his being. He resisted the urge to relieve some tension and quickly washed off the soap as time was ticking away.

Staring in the mirror and glancing into the bedroom to the red LED, 7:40pm. Twenty minutes to go.

Rushing back into the bedroom, picking up the neatly folded clothes and slipping on the black boxers and crisp dark denim jeans, sitting on the bed and pulling on his socks before grabbing the brown brogues from the box by his side. Back to the bathroom and a spray of deodorant and a few squirts of cologne across the neck and body and one for luck downstairs.. “hey you never know” he thought as he smirked in the mirror.

Back to the bedroom and taking the perfectly ironed, box fresh white cotton shirt from the hanger.

A quick puff of the cheeks, and the final touches of the Rolex his dad left him before checking that wallet and room key were present.


Staring intently at the entrance, biting her lip nervously, the excitement building, the maitre d appeared out of nowhere, “Madame, are you ok? Can I get you anything else?”

“Oh I’m good thank you sir”

A wry smile and the door opens.. is it..


“Stay calm, STAY CALM” she tells herself repeatedly but she knows her face is beaming, his biceps, pressing out of his brilliant white shirt, his thighs stretching every inch of the skinny jeans, and those shoes, her mama always told her that you can tell a lot about a man from his shoes, and they were on point. Classical and quirky. He just oozed charm.

Their eyes met and she could feel the smile emanating from her soul.


The lift seemed to take an age. It was only 12 floors but might as well have been 112. I suppose that’s what a classic renovated elevator does for you, you know the ones with the iron doors that draw open before the external doors. As he walked through the lobby to the restaurant his mind began to wander. A quick polish of the shoes on the back of his jeans before entering the dining area. His eyes darted across the floor, was she even here? He’d left his phone upstairs, he wanted zero distractions tonight so hadn’t even checked and then all of a sudden he caught her in the corner of his eye.

It was those piercing eyes and movie star smile that he saw first, then slowly gazing downwards, her perfectly toned legs that went on for miles, she looked stunning, but then again he expected nothing less. Approaching the table, the maitre d followed hastily.

Monsieur, Madame, May I take you to your table now?

He could sense the confusion in those deep dark eyes.


As he approached, the butterflies turned into eagles, her stomach was performing flips and each step he made her feel like there was no one else in the room. Her eyes saw the maitre D behind and just before he could sit down Victor asked could he take them to their table. She thought this was their table but thought better of interrupting. She grabbed her purse as they were led up a narrow hallway and into a small private lift, unlike all the others in the hotel, as the elevator climbed she just kept looking at the floor, she felt a hand suddenly grab her backside firmly, rubbing, and warm breath by her neck. It sent shivers to her core. She had longed for this touch, all the more exciting as Victor was merely inches away. She heard a feint whisper breathlessly in her ear. “ I hope you know what you’re in for Princess”, her legs almost gave way but she regained her composure as the lift opened and she was on the top floor, 360 degree view of the city below and beautifully lit palm trees lining the rooftop pool. “Dining al fresco tonight Madame” ushered Victor.


Pausing for a moment to take in the view, he shook Victor’s hand and slipped him a fifty. “Monsieur once the food has been consumed, the penthouse suite is yours. Everything has been taken care of as requested.”

His eyes cast back over Victor’s shoulder as she was excitedly looking over the balcony at the city below. Her curves hugging every inch of the dress in all the right places. Snapping out of the gaze as the waiter brought the starter and drinks, pulling out her seat and delicately placing the napkin across her lap. Joining her at the table he could see her eyes sparkling under the blue lights. They tuck into the meal, a relaxed silence, with just glances, touches of the hand and smiles, the city bustling below.

The courses, flew past, the conversation picking up, but all very polite, work, news…… quite ‘vanilla ‘really but they were both aware of where this was headed.


The meal flowed, as with the wine, she couldn’t believe all of this was happening, these things never happened to a girl like her, but here she was, atop the place to be in the city, the waiter taking her seat and covering her lap with the napkin, her glass was never empty despite drinking constantly to stop her mouth from drying with the nerves. Every so often he would reach across and gently brush her hand, the hairs would stand on end and her stomach would go once again. ‘What the fuck was this feeling!’ His hands were masculine yet the touches were delicate, feather light.

As the desserts were brought out, she slowly lifted her foot out of her heel and gently slid it across the table. She felt his leg through the sheer material and slowly rubbed up and down his calf. His smile widened and his muscles tensed. As the plates were taken away, a bucket with a bottle of champagne was laid before them as the waiter smiled.

“Monsieur, Madame, please”

Their seats were moved and they were led up the spiral staircase to the suite.

“Any problems please just call…”

The door hadn’t even closed and she felt an arm around her waist, pulling her back to the doorway, her arse banging the door firmly shut..

“Mine” he growled down her ear as she froze to the spot, opening her neck up to his mouth, waiting to let herself go.

Quick as a flash her wrists were pinned above her head, their mouths connected and the kiss was as electric as she had hoped. His tongue caressed and teased her lips and plunged in her mouth she felt her legs buckle but his strength in holding her wrists kept her steady and then it happened.

She felt his free hand slide her skirt up over her thighs, and within a split second and a firm tug her panties were torn away and cast to the floor, her pussy cold from the air conditioning but warming in anticipation. His fingers teased over her clit and firmly rubbed up and down her lips. She was losing all control.


As soon as the door closed he knew she was his. He had longed for this time, but also knew she deserved to be treated like a Princess. His mouth was teasing her neck, has hands were pushing her wrists high above her head, her dress bursting by her full breasts at the unnatural position. His free hand wandered and his lip curled as the soft material of her knickers gave way at the firm tug. His breathing hitched as he felt the warmth between her thighs, each touch releasing a little more. He could feel his jeans tighten and as she gasped and her legs gave way, he scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom. Tossing her to the bed her dress riding up revealing her perfectly waxed pussy. Unbuckling his belt and kicking away his shoes, he stripped down within seconds, his shirt pulled over his head.

Lying above her and staring into her eyes, he once again kissed that gorgeous neck, sucking and biting as she positioned herself closer to him, almost begging to feel him inside her. She felt his tip rubbing her clit and the pressure sent chills through her core.. desperate for more she wrapped her legs around him and dug her heels in his arse, easing his length inside her, her lips dragging his foreskin over his shaft, her gasps as she stretched around him rocking gently at first, grinding to fill every inch of her.

Picking up momentum she could feel herself already to explode ..

“Stop stop stop not yet”


Looking down at her curvaceous figure, his eyes fixated on that gorgeous face, her reactions telling him all he needed to know as he teased her, making her want him even more. Then he felt her heels jar against his backside and suddenly he was deep inside her, that sensation as his length entered her, her walls adjusting to take him feeling better than ever.

Rocking against her body and reaching behind to bind her ankles together with his hand, her perfectly rounded arse exposed to him as she lifted up to get the perfect angle.


As she gasped with each thrust she couldn’t help but reach down and slowly tease her hardening nipples, tweaking and tugging them between her perfectly manicured fingertips (slut red of course) the sensations were simply electric as each thrust sent her closer and closer. Suddenly out of the corner of her eye she saw the full length mirrored wardrobes, unlocking her legs and wrapping her arms around his neck she pulled him down to her face ‘wait, wait, she tenderly whispered, I want to watch’ before averting her gaze to the side of the room.


Wondering why she had released her hold and feeling her warm hands linked around his neck, she whispered, looked and instantly he knew what she wanted. Slowly easing out of her he reached around her body and spun her round by the waist, in no time she was on all fours and parted her legs. Slowly moving closer and guiding his now throbbing cock he pushed between her arse cheeks and guided himself inside her now soaked pussy. ‘Fuck’ he thought as the change of angle gripped him tighter than before and as he looked down at her backing into him he saw the change of angle on her head.


Within no time she was exactly where she wanted, she grabbed a couple of pillows to rest on as she tilted her head sideways. As she caught them in the mirror she could feel her clit tingling, reaching between her legs and placing extra pressure as he slid fully in and out, his body slapping her arse as her gorgeous breasts bounced with the rhythm. She felt ready to explode again but didn’t want the enjoyment to end and then she muttered ‘my hair’….


Watching in the mirror was far more of a turn on than any porn he had watched, especially with this gorgeous, curvy girl he had connected with as the star. As he built up the pace, the friction making his dick twitch and throb inside her, he heard her mumble something.. he processed it as at first he thought she’d said it hurts and was unsure whether to stop but her body gave away that this wasn’t the case. He slowly reached forward and slid his hand over her head, gripping her neck and then carefully wrapping her shoulder length hair around his fingers, then as she bucked away from him he tugged firmly and her head snapped back and she felt herself pulled back onto his dick.


She gasped loudly in shock and excitement. ‘Fuck yeah, harder she begged’. It was like a switch had been set off inside her, her hands now face down on the bed supporting her as her legs buckled, each thrust accompanied by a controlling tug of her hair bringing her back to position. The moans getting louder and louder and this reaction taking him to the brink. Suddenly the hand pushed her head forward and she was glad for the respite as she felt she could literally explode. She buried her head in the pillow as he grabbed her waist, fucking her harder, her juices now coating his cock, a loud moan left her mouth and her body went to jelly, her pussy now cold around his shaft signalling her climax. He reached round and pinched her clit as he took himself over the edge, unable to wait any longer as his dick exploded deep inside her. She grinned against him in circular motions making sure she squeezes out every last drop, her thighs getting coated in the mixture as they both slumped breathlessly to the bed in a heap, bodies beaded with sweat.


Her mind and body were exhausted from the moment. As she tried to regain her breath she felt a cold sensation on her arse.. ‘What the fuck’ before realising he was just passing her a bottle of water from the side of the bed.

Screwing off the top and gulping it down, it was almost the best feeling in the world. Almost..

Ready for round two sir….

Nobody’s perfect

I hate that I let you down, and I feel so bad about it. I guess karma comes back around, cos now I’m the one that’s hurting.

Jessie J

This song randomly came on this week, and back in the day I listened to it alot. It’s been noted before that music touches your soul and creates memories. Sometimes the memories are good, often, not so good. It’s always the lyrics rather than the melody that cut deep when you’re feeling sad, and that makes sense. When you’re happy, you want to dance like no one’s watching. When you’re sad you simply want to curl up, be numb and let the world pass you by. When this song came on, I listened, I was mesmerised, in a glassy eyed daze and I just kept repeating it over and over and over. Every single word resonated deep inside me.

I’ve been thinking alot about Karma, social media is rife for people wishing Karma on those that have wronged them. One recent incident was someone who’d been hurt by their partner years ago. Their partner came home one day and said they’d connected with someone else and it was over. The ‘wronged’ person, years later had connected with someone that was already in the burgeoning steps of a relationship. Incredibly they were wishing that their new connection would choose them ahead of this person’s partner. Quite happily praying that this would be the universes way of paying it forward.

I mean that’s gross isn’t it? Wishing ill on someone you have never met, who you don’t even know, who has done precisely nothing to you. That’s not karma,  that’s just vile. Two wrongs definitely don’t make a right, and surely if the person you snatch is capable of doing that to be with you. They are capable of doing that to you?

Having read up on Karma, it’s more about getting back what you give. You send kindness to someone, anyone and at some point down the line, that kindness comes back to you. Not in a mirror form, not in the same way it was sent. It’s like yin and yang, it’s like the theory that every action has a reaction in a way. Everything you say,  everything you do, has a cause and effect. That being said, I was left disappointed recently. Something that I was looking forward to happening didn’t, I was hugely excited cos you know things like this don’t happen to me, (and I was right, they don’t). I’m sure this person never meant to cause any disappointment, I won’t say hurt because it really wasn’t. You can’t miss something you’ve never had. Ultimately, they owed me nothing, having never met. Things change and that’s when people can’t cope. Change scares alot of people, when something is planned or scheduled, alot of people don’t bank on needing a plan B, C or D. Thankfully, I can process things, one of my closest friends always is in awe of my ability to compartmentalise things. Once something is done, I accept it, box it up, and move on. There’s literally nothing to be gained over mourning or stressing about things you can’t change or influence.

Anyway, the more I replayed this event in my head, the more it reminded me of something I’d done to someone. The parallels were there for all to see, even the month it occurred was the same. As the lyrics from Jessie J chimed out

And I hate that I made you think that the trust we had is broken
So don’t tell me you can’t forgive me
‘Cause nobody’s perfect,

Jessie J

It is almost like this song was written for what I did. I connected with someone, didn’t believe it was going to go anywhere and just before we met I let her down. She did forgive me, and tried and tried to keep that connection, but ultimately it was just too hard. I guess that’s because it was a very real connection. That’s my only consolation from that mess. At the time, I was upset, but also kept convincing myself that we hadn’t met, we’d made no promises, we ultimately didn’t owe each other anything.

Fast forward to a similar event happening to me, and albeit it was a much smaller disappointment, and less had been invested in it, but ultimately it made me realise how badly I had treated someone. Everything for a reason and I guess this was my lesson.

Never underestimate the power of your words and actions on another person. You can lift them up and slam them down far more easily than you can ever imagine. Behind a screen it’s even worse because you know, you can’t see someones tears behind a screen.

It’s strange how the world operates, but just as I’d began to compute what I was dealing with, I saw an unusual message from someone I’ve known on and off for a while. Someone who lights up wherever she goes, someone who never ceases to make people smile. I reached out and checked in. The conversation flowed and I must have struck a chord because just like that, everything came out. It was like I’d undone the pressure cap and my word my heart ached. I completely forgot about my insignificant woes and listened intently to someone who was struggling so much. I had no idea, but why would I? Take a happy selfie, post a silly picture, tell a stupid joke (they are stupid mate) and everyone behind a screen smiles and laughs. Who’s making you laugh though?

Social media is a blessing and a curse, it can lift these lonely moments, on demand company from people who share the same interests. But, let your guard down and it can consume you, take over your life, so much so that you find yourself checking WhatsApp last seen, hoping upon hope that someone who doesn’t deserve you is okay. You become a social media version of yourself and when the screen lights up, it’s show time, put on your happy face and please your audience when inside you heart is shattering.

It’s okay not to be okay, Karma really doesn’t work as a mirror and I know my incident wasn’t karma, it was just a way of ending a connection that wasn’t necessary and leading me to a new one that absolutely was, for both of us.

Everything for a reason, no matter how hard it is and how many tears it causes. People that are meant to be there will be, and people that care will always step up, even when you don’t know you need them.

Music And Lyrics

No no, not the ‘noughties’ Hugh Grant Rom-com silly. I just mean literally Music & Lyrics. I have heard a phrase uttered in many different ways but basically relates to
“When you’re happy you hear the melody, but when you’re sad you hear the lyrics”
It’s true, as a rugby league fan, there are songs that are played at the end of both major finals. Having been fortunate enough to witness my side win many finals, whenever I hear the opening chords to Depeche Modes’ Just Can’t Get Enough or Hermes House Bands version of Country Roads I can’t help but be transported back to those stadiums, a sea of cherry and white, and smiling faces, of friends and strangers but particularly of my daughter. But it’s those distinctive sounds that bring a smile to my face.

Conversely, when I hear Mr.Brightside, despite the catchy guitar riff, it’s the lyrics that remind me of a love once lost.

It Started Out With A Kiss, How Did It End Up Like This

The Killers – Mr Brightside

Additionally, Fleetwood Mac’s Go Your Own Way

Loving You, Isn’t The Right Thing To Do

Fleetwood Mac – Go Your Own Way

My final example was actually quoted to me by someone about me, when I kinda messed up something before it even had a chance. Blackout by Freya Ridings.

If you’d have just let me in, who knows what could have been…

Freya Ridings – Blackout

Even songs with no meaning to me, make me feel in the moment, like no other artform can.
Another song by Freya Ridings always hits me hard.
Lost without you
“Standing at the platform, watching you go, it’s like no other pain, I’ve ever known.
To Love someone so much, to have no control, you said I wanna see the world and I said Go.”
Typing this whilst listening to the song, with a lump in my throat. you see love is the most powerful emotion. It can lift you up and slam you down, like nothing else on earth. Have you ever loved someone so much it hurts, that you spend nights alone, not sleeping because you are consumed by thoughts of that person? Sometimes they are good thoughts, excited because you get to see them tomorrow. Sadly, other times they are grief riddled thoughts, praying for that message to come through, worrying if they are safe, or if they are being faithful. Gut wrenching, pit of the stomach fear.

Even songs of Friendship can send a shiver down your spine. One of the most powerful songs I have ever heard is Tom Walkers’ – I Will Leave A Light On

If you look into the distance, there’s a house upon a hill,
Guiding like a lighthouse, it’s a place where you’ll be safe to feel our grace,
Cos we’ve all made mistakes, if you’ve lost your way.
I will leave a light on

Tom Walker

Although the song is about a friend losing their way with drugs, it’s poignant on so many levels. We are all human and we all make mistakes. Some bigger than others, but when you’re at rock bottom, the relief when someone takes time for you, that tells you it’ll be okay is indescribable. They might not know it, or believe it, but it’s critical for someone to have faith in you. Once you start believing in yourself again, then you can start to build and flourish.

2020 has been quite a year. My 2019 was pretty crap and as the clock struck on New Year I thought, ‘thank goodness this year is over, next year will be better’. In many respects it hasn’t been. Having a temporary career change, not being able to see my close family because of the Rona’s. A Twitter shitstorm ( which maybe I will write about one day ) It’s definitely been a year of Lyrics rather than Melodies.

However, despite all the downs, losing people that I believed were important and wanted to be a part of my life, there have been many highs too. People I never in a million years expected to stand by me did. I encountered a new crowd of people on twitter and they are all incredible. I’ve connected with people over writing and especially music. I’ve not had any negative experiences and I have found some people that I absolutely cherish. They’ve helped me find the melody in life. A simple message, a tag, a DM makes me smile so much. Being accepted into the #VirtualPubCrawl has been amazing. Every other Saturday my phone goes nuts as people from all over comment and share and follow. All in the name of good music, good laughs and even raising money.

I guess I will end by saying that in my darkest moments in 2020, when I have sat up at night, staring at my phone, wondering if it was me. When I have just sobbed for no reason at all, or over people that ultimately didn’t care. Those deep dark moments have only enhanced how happy I am when things are going right, to cherish them and enjoy them because they should never be taken for granted. Life really is too precious and too short. We only get one crack of it and every day spent being miserable is a day wasted. I am not dismissing those that have very real issues, and my heart goes out to them, but there’s always help, IF you are willing to help yourself. Keep smiling and try to hover towards the songs that give you melodies rather than lyrics when you’re feeling down.