Who would want Charles on their postage stamp?

My one claim to fame in life is that I once played rugby with Prince Harry ... 

Many of you won't believe me, mainly because the image of me playing rugby in your head is utterly ridiculous, but it's true okay. Back in 2003, he came to my school to do some coaching with young people. If you don't believe me here's the picture: 

Okay it's pretty small but that's me in the blue jumper and that tall ginger guy in the middle, I swear on my life is Prince Harry. I have this photo as an A4 print out if any of you need any further evidence ...

That's right, he came to that grotty little place called Aylesbury that everyone hates, so yeah, jealous? 

Now at this time, I didn't really take much notice of the Royal family but I found a lot of respect for this guy that day.  There were no diva moments, for two hours in the pouring rain, he played with a group of kids who didn't have a clue about rugby, got covered in mud, slipped over and laughed about it, and didn't care about his hair getting wet. He was genuinely such a nice guy. 

Ten years later, and the Royals are in the media much more regularly, what with the Jubilee last year, Prince William's engagement to Kate and now their baby on the way. It's sad Harry sort of gets over looked; he doesn't have a beautiful princess for a wife (although I'd be willing to fill that position given the opportunity), he's not next in line for the throne and if he is in the newspaper it's because he's dressed up as a Nazi or has got pretty drunk, but do you know what I say: 'fair play'. 

He's young, and represents his country in a much more important way like fighting in Afghanistan and his charity work. This has brought him to the news this week whilst in South Africa. He's touring all of the schools supporting his charity Sentebale. However, he doesn't just engage in a flying visit, have some photos taken and move on. No. He engages with the children, attempting to read Braille, watching them play football, dancing with them, and this is not the only charity he supports. 

The media can't seem to make a story without mentioning his Mother, but why can't they look at him in his own right.

He's down to Earth and I think he'd make a brilliant King of England. It's a shame he probably won't get the chance, not that I'm wishing the Queen, Charles or William dead or anything, more that they step down. William's not too bad but he's just not half as entertaining as Harry and he looks like his Dad already.  

I'd much rather have Harry on my postage stamps. 

Kamikaze Pheasant

POLICE CALLING FOR WITNESSES OF FATAL COLLISION

"There was a collision on the Buckingham Road this week, involving one vehicle. 

Phyllis Pheasant, jumped in front of a Ford KA at approximately 10.37, Monday morning. Emergency services were called but Phyllis died at the scene. 

The KA was travelling at approximately 60mph, when Phyllis, thought to have attempted to take her own life, jumped out of no where. The driver tried to swerve but was unsuccessful. 

Police are calling for all witnesses and family members to come forward to identify the feathers."

*****

Jokes aside, I could not feel more awful about this. I've been driving for just under 18 months and I hadn't experienced any road kill until New Years Day this year when I hit a pheasant. Monday saw my second victim, another pheasant, who we'll call 'Phyllis' for ease of reference. 

Now many of you are probably thinking 'yeah right, bit of a coincidence, definitely a murderer' and that I was playing human Angry Birds or something, but I risked my life and the lives of others trying to save this bird; an emergency stop from 60 mph is no mean feat. Let's just say it was lucky there was nothing behind me ... either way, there was genuinely nothing I could have done. 

I personally believe it was suicide. One minute Phyllis was innocently at the side of the road, the next she was a cloud of feathers behind me. She literally just jumped out of no where which leads me to believe maybe she was depressed and trying to take her own life.  This doesn't stop me feeling any less guilty though. She might have had a husband, several young children and I've killed her... 

With this being my second victim already this year it worries me that this is going to become routine each month and before long, I will be the cause of a pheasant extinction ... 

It took me a good few hours to come to terms with what I'd done and the way it affected me got me thinking how much of a hypocrite I am; I eat meat and yet I clearly couldn't personally take an animal's life. Don't get me wrong, I'm not thinking of turning vegetarian or anything; bacon and KFC are an integral part of my existence and equally, I'm not criticising those who do kill animals, on behalf of the squeamish of us, I thank you. In all seriousness though, the majority of us eat meat, and clearly don't know where it comes from, in light of the horse meat scandal, and we couldn't do the deed ourselves; it's quite literally just handed to us on a plate. Do we really have the right to consume animals with this frame of mind? 

Just a little food for thought ...

RIP Phyllis. I hope you'll be my last road kill for a while. 

Tick tock.

The concept of time frustrates me: getting up early in the morning, being late, not having enough time to do something ... I hate the confinement. It is frequently argued that we as humans are the most powerful beings and that we have free will, but ultimately, time rules us; we are governed by a tiny ticking sound, physically and metaphorically.

The dictionary defines time as 'the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole' but it seems to me to be a constriction of our own creation of which we can no longer escape. 

It's something that's always been there. Even before the first clock was created in the 1300s, people were working out the time from the stars and the seasons. However, these predictions were much less precise and flexible in comparison to the modern human's introduction of definitive numbers. 

When I was little, everyday when I came home from school, I would sit down and watch Bernard's Watch on CITV. It was fascinating as it consisted of a boy who had a watch that had the ability to pause time. Can you imagine the possibilities? I'd have five extra hours in bed a day and still get to uni on time. I'd probably give myself a weeks extension on my current assignment. I wouldn't have been late for work this evening but most importantly, I'd give myself more time to do the things I enjoy whilst I have 'my time' here on Earth.

Everybody's always in a rush and although I desperately try not to be one of these people, I still don't get time to do the things I love such as reading for pleasure, pursuing illustration, even something as simple as spending time with the people I love.  

It occurred to me recently that this is just the start; I am aiming for a high flying career, but do I really want to be driven by time and deadlines for the rest of my life? It's a scary concept but it's reality. No matter what I decide, it's always going to have an inevitable hold over me, but this won't stop me trying to defy it. So, in order to get this assignment finished this week, I may have more than a few sleepless nights and I will extend my day into the night, I will find more time to do the things I love, and I will find a way to appreciate time, rather than resenting it, not everyone gets this luxury. 

Back away Bowie ...

So it's been a whole decade since David Bowie last released any new music. This year however saw his 66th Birthday, and he marked this occasion with a new single, 'Where are we now?' This is to be followed by an album, Next Day, due to be released in early March. 

Now although, I wasn't even born when Bowie was at his peak, I'm still a fan. I love his eccentricity, his confident, androgynous style, but mostly his diverse range of music. He's truly a superstar and his three decade career is testimony to this.  

However, I'm disappointed to say his latest song didn't exactly grab my attention.

I was hoping that he would bring back a small part of those seventies and eighties parties for those of us who missed it, but there is no sign of quirky Ziggy Stardust, no fascinating, striking videos, no sign of energy, vibrancy or colour. All that's left is a grand piano, laboured lyrics and an overwhelming sense of tiredness. 

If this is a flavour for his new album, I doubt I'll be rushing to download it. It's slightly too comfortable, and if it wasn't for his distinctive vocals, it would simply have blended into a blurry backdrop of 'easy listening'. 

What happened to the legendary Jean Genie and Rebel Rebel? It's a sure certain fact I won't be putting on my red shoes and dancing the blues to this ...

I have a lot of respect for Bowie. He looks great for his age and his vocals are as strong as ever. To come back after ten years and at 66, I think is a brave and admirable move. I only hope he's making a come back for personal enjoyment, and if this is the case, I will continue to look on him fondly and say, 'fair play'. 

However, I can't help feeling it is an attempt to regain the success of his hey day. For me his reputation was enough. His songs have exceeded his career already, they're timeless and generation after generation will enjoy them. You only need to look at the popular BBC TV series Life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes; these enjoyed great success, largely due to the soundtrack of which Bowie was a significant part. I'm slightly concerned his latest album may be the ink splash on his clean white page and I would hate for this to overshadow the legacy he has made for himself.

I will be interested to see the finished product when it's released, through loyalty if nothing else, but I personally will remember Bowie as the genius of the 70s and 80s: the catchy melodies, the synth sounds, the deep, narrative lyrics, the legend. 

Turn that frown upside down.

It's a proven fact that it takes less muscles to smile than it does to frown; a mere 17 to be precise. So why do some people find it so difficult? 

On a day to day basis I encounter miserable people. Don't get me wrong, everyone has those 'down' days and in some cases, I have no doubt that there is more of a reason to cry than laugh, but I really feel people should be making more of an effort to be more smiley, mainly because their grumpy face dampens my mood. 

I get this a lot at work, both customers and staff. You get couples who sit there in silence, no conversation, no laughter, not even a smile. Why do you honestly bother coming out of your house? You make me grumpy and make my job a lot harder because I find it difficult to make an effort with people who very clearly don't want to be there. Equally, if one of your colleagues are miserable and short tempered, for no apparent reason, it's going to extend to everyone, and all in all, you're all going to have a thoroughly awful day thanks to one single person. 

Similarly, just walking along a street, why don't people smile at strangers any more? Probably because you'd be accused of some form of mental disorder but it shouldn't be that way. It should be common courtesy to smile and even say 'Good Morning' to random strangers; my neighbours don't even say 'hello'. They say strangers are just friends you haven't met yet; you're never going to meet them if you ignore everyone else in the world. 

I just don't understand it, everyone has so much to smile about. We don't live in a third world country, the majority of us are blessed with at least some family or friends and quite frankly, life could be a whole lot worse. 

Now I won't lie and say a smile a day keeps the wrinkles away because that'd be a lie, you're still going to get wrinkles. However, they're going to be good wrinkles. Wrinkles that tell a story. Stories worth laughing and smiling about for years to come. So for those conscious of ageing,  if you've got 'crows feet', be proud of them, you've smiled enough, if you have those deep crinkly ones on your forehead however, I have no sympathy, you're simply a grumpy person. 

So smile more. It doesn't take much, just a little tweak of that crooked mouth of yours. If not for yourself, for others, you're currently that big black cloud blocking the sun. Smiling is contagious. Start spreading the smiles and that grumpy old man you encounter regularly, might break the habit of a lifetime and smile with you. 

'Oi , put that graffitti back?'

I bet none of you thought you'd ever see the day when people were protesting to have graffitti back on a wall. However, this is currently the case on the art scene, with an iconic Banksy piece, being mysteriously removed from a wall last week.

Slave Labour appeared on a wall outside Poundland in North London last year around the time of the Queen's Jubliee. It now however, is sitting awaiting auction in Miami, and is thought to fetch around $500,000.

Unsurprisingly, many have been up in arms about this. What's evoking most controversy however is the way it's been taken. It was shiftily moved during the night, and the seller is remaining anonymous, leaving his auctioneer in Miami to take the abuse.

The auctioneer's argument started with him trying to justify his client's actions in that they were 'preserving' the work (surely you've caused more damage by cutting the lump of concrete out of the wall and flying it to Miami?) but after eventually realising he was clutching at straws, he stated that it was a private wall and it was therefore legal for them to take it. Legal, maybe. Moral, no.

There were several things that annoyed me when I heard this story, one being the nerve of people to claim ownership over it, it belongs in England: fact ... and secondly, the people of North London are now left with an ugly crater in the wall.

Now Banksy remains anonymous, and there was never any solid evidence that this particular piece was by him, only art expert's opinions. In my eyes however, even if it isn't by the infamous Banksy, it is still a British piece of art, by a British artist, making a social comment on Britain. Thus, for it to be sitting in America, ready to make them money, is disgusting. Remaining anonymous, Banksy clearly does not create his art for financial gain. He offers his creative expressions free of charge for the public to enjoy. The fact there's such controversy about this shows that he's changed the way people view street art and for that, who ever he is, he must be admired.

His work is a social comment. It is powerful, sometimes moving and genuinely forces society to address it's faults; to move this work out of it's context, for me, makes it meaningless and indeed worthless. It is one of the many symbols that make Britain truly 'great' and to take it under such circumstances really poses many questions of security for artists.

Whether Britain gets this work back or not, whoever has taken it upon themselves to attempt to sell it, has stolen a truly beautiful piece of work from the entire population and should be ashamed of themselves.

It was acceptable in the eighties.

This week has seen the release of plans for a PlayStation 4. What does this have to offer that the previous PlayStation doesn't? Apparently not a busting lot besides a couple of GB more potential data, and a worryingly realistic portrayal of gang culture available to mere five-year-olds ... 

 

It's the first new PlayStation in seven years, so for avid fans, I guess this is a big deal,  I however will remain in the eighties, with my Super Nintendo and Super Mario World.

 

This game repeatedly blows my mind more than any modern, technical PlayStation. Despite the fact we have a limited number of games, on account that they don't even produce them any more, I have wasted significant hours of my life on this console and will continue to do so for as long as it lives.

 

Some may find my fascination difficult to understand but here's what keeps me coming back for more: you don't have to wait half an hour for your game to load; I still find myself humming the theme tune from time to time; there is no violence with the exception of throwing a couple of shells and fire balling some tortoises here and there, and the 2D graphics are just irreplaceable.

 

I have never been a gamer, nor have my brothers to be fair. We lived in the country for the majority of our childhood and making dens in fields and trees was much more appealing. However, this has been the game, if any, that I have played. I've lost count how many times I've completed it but it's given me no end of joy and entertainment over the years; you can never save Princess Toadstool too many times from Bowser's kingdom.

It didn't cost the price of a car and it hasn't broken despite the fact that it's 25 years old. Given the choice, I'll always favour Nintendo. Although the DS and Wii in recent years seem to have been five minute wonders, their eighties products are undoubtedly the ultimate video games. When I was sixteen, my Mum brought me Super Mario Bros for our Wii and I can count on one hand how many times I have played it; the controller is just not the same, nor is the life like, animated graphics; nobody wants to see little 'Pavarotties' running around. 

 

The graphics don't need to resemble real life. It's a world where little Italian men can fly. They ride green dragons and they seem to have an indispensable amount of lives. If you ask me, it sounds like the effect of an evening of hash cakes but this is why I still revel in it: escapism. I don't want to kill people, I don't want to race cars in Japan or fight wars in COD. There's too much horror and suffering daily on our news screens. I want to climb up bean stalks, save the princess and live happily ever after. Simple.

So, no matter how  many versions PlayStation introduce, they will never top Super Nintendo. It disappoints me that  I now struggle to find a TV old enough to accommodate the fuzzy graphics but I won't let it die until it's ready. My Mario has several green mushroom lives left yet. 

Jeremy Kyle Juries?

So many of you may have heard that the Vicky Pryce trial was thrown out of court this week due to a 'fundamental deficit in understanding' among the jury. In other words, the jury who held the key to a person's freedom, were too stupid to make a fair judgement. 

For those that don't know, Vicky Pryce is alleged to have taken driving points for her MP husband Chris Huhnes, which would have resulted in her husband losing his licence. They have since split and he has pleaded guilty whilst she denies perverting the course of justice and claiming 'marital coercion'.

The judge demanded a retrial after ten questions posed by the jury highlighted a severe gap in understanding. Here are some of the most worrying: 

1. Please expand upon the definition, specifically "was will overborne".

2. Can you define what is reasonable doubt? 

3. Can a juror come to a verdict based on a reason that was not presented in court and has no facts or evidence to support it either from the prosecution or defence?

4. Can we speculate about the events at the time that Vicky Pryce signed the form, or what was in her mind at that time?

Now I've never been called up for jury service but how stupid do you have to be, not to understand that you are there to make a judgement purely based on the evidence given in that court room? Why would you speculate or infer anything; you have the responsibility of the rest of someone's life in your hands.

This is incredibly worrying but I have to say it doesn't surprise me when you think that these kinds of people could potentially be on the jury ... 

Equally, this isn't the first time that the validity of juries has been questioned; in 1993, a group of jury members consulted a ouija board to contact the murdered victim, to make their decision ... enough said. 

People are now questioning if juries are becoming less intelligent. Evidence says not, but in my opinion, more investigation is definitely needed when you look at the potential candidates. If I had these people judging me, I'd be pretty concerned. The extension to get a more 'representative' sample of the population is definitely having an effect to say the least.

Equality. Fairness. Unbiased. Yes. This is great in an ideal world but in reality, look at what you're left with when you treat everyone 'equally'. The world is not ideal, people are not of equal intelligence but in my opinion listening to what is explicitly put in front of you does not require intelligence but mere common sense and manners. There are a minority which currently don't hold these traits and this is only going to turn to a majority in years to come. 

People may not be becoming 'less intelligent' but certainly 'more ignorant' to intelligence and education and this definitely needs to be addressed before allowing the likes of Jeremy Kyle regulars to determine someone's fate. It makes a mockery of the whole judicial system and you may as well leave it to Judge Judy. 

I rest my case.

Cold turkey

My name's Aimee and I've been clean for seven days now.

 

It's been tough, really tough ... the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.

 

I knew I had a problem from a young age, but it took me a long time to face up to my problems. The turning point for me was when I woke up on the kitchen floor, face down, in a bag of Doritos. I couldn't remember what had happened or how I'd got there, but I knew I couldn't let people see me like that. I was ashamed. I was scared. I looked in the mirror and I didn't recognise myself; beneath the crumbs and the orange cheese powder on my face, there was a ghost of who I used to be.

 

My life had just started getting out of control, I'd started falling behind at uni, skiving work, getting in debt, isolating myself from my friends ... I was feeding my habit with change from down the back of the sofa or loans.

 

There have been moments of weakness this week I have to admit. I've been longing to hear the rustle of the foil packet, or the pop of a Pringle pot; to breathe in the flavour of a freshly opened packet; to feel the crunch between my teeth. The first two days were the hardest, it was very emotional, like a part of me was missing. I haven't been sleeping very well and the headaches are the worst. I still dread when the clock strikes twelve, I feel the shakes and the cold sweats coming on. The patches and the gum are really helping though and thanks to the support of my therapist and the group, I'm finally making progress and rediscovering who I used to be.

 

For the past seven years I've been in an incredibly dark tunnel, but now I can see the light: I'm on the way to recovery.

 

My name's Aimee and I'm a crispaholic.

Jokes aside, I've never lasted more than two days when I've given up something for Lent, so hello new-found willpower. Here's to hoping I can apply it to other areas of my life.

Real Women

Sometimes, I look around and I just hate girls. Often, they're judgemental, obsessed with their looks and are quite frankly, pathetic. More often than not, I'd rather socialise with men; at least you know where you stand. 

 

For hundreds of years, legendary women sacrificed blood, sweat and tears in the fight for equal rights and yet some girls of today, are exactly the reason it was such a tough battle. They play up to stereotypes of weak, vulnerable females who need rescuing. What happened to the girls who wanted to be Prime Minister? Now, the most common aspiration is to be a model or a TV star. They act stupid for attention, put on a poor American accent and get through life by fluttering their eye lashes.

I feel lucky and privileged to have been born into a family of strong, confident women. My Nan, hasn't had the easiest life, but has worked her fingers to the bone and is a fighter to this day. She brought my Mum up with the same attitude; she rolls her sleeves up in the face of adversity, isn't afraid of getting her hands dirty and was always more likely to have a dribble-laden dummy in her handbag than a pair of hair straighteners: truly Super-Mum. I can only hope to do them both proud by becoming strong and independent myself. 

 

When I'm at work I see a clear divide between women and 'girls'. On one side you've got all the rich 'girls' who look down their pampered noses at you; who elegantly sip wine and whose laugh just grates you the wrong way. Those who allow their husbands to pay for everything and whose biggest worry is that they can't fit in a manicure between their hairdressers appointment, and their yoga class tomorrow. 

Then you have the women. The real women. Those who the 'girls' laugh at. They come in and proudly drink pints of ale. They have clearly forgotten to brush their hair that day, or have dirt under their nails but they don't care. They will happily buy a drink for their husbands, and although they are clearly worried sick about their daughter suffering with cancer, they still manage to find something to smile about and don't moan about life's trivialities.

 

If you got in a fight with these women, they wouldn't pull your hair or scratch you with their nails, they'd punch you in the face because they are strong, independent women. These are the kind of women I admire. 

 

When I left school, I thought I'd left the Mean Girls culture behind me, but I'm coming to realise that no matter where I go, I'm always going to encounter that annoying minority of 'girls' who bring shame to fellow females. 

All I know is, I will smile in the face of their critical glares, I will work for everything I own, I will proudly drink a pint in public and I will eat Yorkie bars. 

 

Cheers to all the amazing women everywhere, I'm proud to say my friends and family are some of them. 

Neighbours from Hell.

So, when there's a 'gripping, exclusive' documentary about Aylesbury, all the people that live there, unsurprisingly tune in to get that little buzz from hearing and seeing your home town on the TV. However, Inside Her Majesty's Prison: Aylesbury, was more warped curiosity as to what exactly is sitting on our doorstop, what lies behind those cold, steel doors we drive past on a daily basis and try not to think about. 

For those who didn't see it this evening, Her Majesty's Prison, in Aylesbury, is a young offenders institute, not so far from the centre of town. The oldest inmate is just 21-years-old and yet it was revealed that some by this time, are on their fifth sentence. It is home to some of the nastiest criminals: drug dealers, murderers, rapists; you name it, we apparently have it ...

The documentary focused on some of the most difficult inmates. This alone was shocking; the fact that most of them were younger than me, the fact that they all have children, the fact that these absolute nut cases will eventually be released back into society. What was more shocking however, was the kind of lifestyle they lead whilst in prison. Now this 'prisons are too soft' debate, is nothing new, but to see it with your own eyes, I have to say, a number of things struck me. 

Firstly, the way authorities casually hand out weapons in a volatile environment to some of the most violent prisoners in the country. It's no secret that prisoners get leisure time, but out of all the items that they could have given them, was a pool table really the brightest idea? You could kill someone with a pool ball. You snap the cue in half and you potentially have a knife ... personally I'd advise maybe dominoes? Something like that ...

Secondly, the way inmates dictate and bargain with authorities. They can appeal to transfer because they 'don't like the prison' . They can negotiate benefits by threatening the safety of other inmates. Good behaviour reduces their sentences. They know their rights and play the system at their own game. However, human rights are for humans, no?

Finally, the sheer amount of luxuries they get. One guy refused to go back to his cell because they'd taken away his TV. Another dragged out what looked like a sentence supply of cigarettes from under his bed, whilst an armed robber was smoking what looked an awful lot like a spliff on camera ...  

There was one situation where three inmates took another inmate hostage after being there just  a matter of hours; they tied him up and threatened to rape him. On the one hand, even if prisons  are 'too soft', I think we can safely say being surrounded by the likes of these people, ensures that it's certainly no joy ride. On the contrary however, the way the hostage was beside himself with fear and too 'scared' and 'distressed' to prosecute disgusted me. I'd say what he experienced was a mere half of what he put his victims through to end up in prison in the first place. Man up and face the reality you've created for yourself ...

The programme wasn't all negative though. One inmate seemed genuinely remorseful. He was in there for GBH and when you think about it, one single, stupid drunken night and a pub brawl later, and you're in prison, surrounded by cretins and you miss your little boy's first words, his first steps, his first day at school ... Fair play to the odd one, out of four hundred and twenty, who was trying to turn his life around. This contrasted with the rest of them, who were very clearly playing up to the camera, getting their five minutes of fame.

Equally, it evoked a lot of admiration for the prison officers who keep them in check. It's a real test of character to put your personal morals aside when faced with a rapist or a murderer. It takes both physical and emotional control to stand up to such brutes. If I was wearing a hat, I'd take it off to them, because I certainly couldn't do it. 

So, after living in Aylesbury most of my life, I never knew what was going on just minutes away. It was eye opening to say the least, and as much as I don't want to give the 'contestants' in this messed up, Big Brother situation, the satisfaction of viewers, I'm sure curiosity will get the better of me once again, along with the rest of my town, and I'll tune in for the second instalment next week.

'Sorry, one moment, my shoe's ringing ...'

Companies are constantly experimenting, trying to develop that product that stands out from all the rest, its uniqueness having the potential to sell millions. 

Technology undoubtedly offers an endless amount of possibilities, and if the opportunities are there, we'd be fools not to take advantage of them most of the time, but the current investigations into wearable technology quite frankly baffle me. 

Since the start of the year, companies have been putting forward new technological innovations related to fashion, all of which I consider a complete waste of time. 

For example: 

- Clothes that display twitter updates ...
- Mobile phones that connect with your watch ... (I've never seen a phone without a clock on it, why would you need both?)
- Google Glasses ...  

I cannot imagine ever needing or wanting any of these items. It's just applying technology for the sake of it.

- I do not want to be stood behind someone in a queue reading a years worth of tweets thinking #you'reanidiot. 
- Sure a watch with the capabilities of a smart phone would be cool, but it's not like people are going to replace their phones with 'smart watches', after all it's missing the main feature, being able to make calls. 
- As for a constant computerised lens over your eyes, it doesn't take a scientist to suggest that's going to come with health warnings ...

The most ridiculous however, was by far the 'shoe phone'. Don't be fooled, this isn't some foreign, forward, complex new phone, it is quite literally a phone ... in your shoe ... 

This is without a doubt the most impractical idea I've ever heard in my life. Just imagine it, if you want to make a call, you're going to have to stop, sit down and remove your shoe. If you need to answer your phone, again, this is going to involve you removing your shoe, you can just imagine the hassle of doing this on the tube, or even along a busy street... 

What if it's an emergency, you need to call 999 but you're wearing Converses therefore it unsurprisingly takes you half an hour to unlace them. If you're wearing stilettos,  that's a fairly dangerous thing to press to your head. What if you tread in dog mess, you're not going to want to press that to your head either. Literally, there are no positive uses for this invention. 

Surely these supposed 'geniuses' could find something better to do with their time. I don't know, technological advances for hospitals? Things that really will benefit the world. 

Welcome to the Wearable Tech Revolution: pointless, ridiculous, items that you could most certainly live without, but that I can guarantee everyone will go out and buy for the sake of it.

The Silent Predators.

The eyes. The slinking tail. The claws. These creatures were just made for savage attacks. 

They're always watching you, calculating their next move. You think they innocently sleep all day, but I assure you, they sleep with one eye open, plotting, planning ...  

They curl around furniture, innocently, almost affectionately brush your leg, but it's all part of their plan. The scariest thing is that there's no escape. They freely walk our streets and some naively welcome them into their homes. 

That's right people ... 

Don't be fooled. This is a ruthless, trained killer. 

With moves like ninjas, they are silent but deadly. 

Some may find this an unusual phobia, and I genuinely don't know where it stems from. I've always been more of a dog person and I was allergic to them as a child, but I've never had a particularly traumatic experience with them to make me fear them so intensely. 

Now when I say phobia, I'm not overstating my fears, like some of these spider haters. It's got to a point where I can't even walk on the same side of the road as them. If I see a cat I will go out of my way, even pick up the pace to make my desperate escape. If I see a picture, or even imagine them, it sends shivers down my spine. The way they glare at you, their speed, their silence, it just unsettles me and after some research I can conclude that my fears are justified: 

Yesterday however, my phobia reached a whole new level when I was held hostage by a cat in my own car. As I pulled up into my road, I saw a cat sat by my front door, literally directly in the  centre of the door, barring any entry. Out of all of the houses in my road, it just had to choose mine; I'm telling you, they're out to get me ... 

It watched me pull into the road. It watched me roll up onto my drive and it didn't even so much as flinch. It just sat there, staring me out. 

I genuinely didn't know what to do. Everyone told me to just 'shoo' it away, but that was easier said than done when I couldn't even bring myself to meet its gaze. I tried to telepathically stand my ground, this was my house, but he was having none of it, he was taking my territory. After eight minutes of deep breaths and coaxing, I built up the courage to step out of the car. I stood there frozen for a while, trying to look intimidating but after several futile attempts, I just ran. I ran to the back of my house, through the back gate, slamming it and clumsily locking it. Then I realised that cats can jump fences. So I ran even quicker to my house and stayed there until my Mum got home. The cat was still sat there, making his point, and yet she just sauntered over as usual and he just sloped away, not before he threw me a cold, smirking glaze however. 

I'm still a little scarred I have to say. It was incredibly traumatic and I think I might need some therapy. A cat kept me out of my own house ... They're clearly getting stronger. They're invading. 

Beware. 

They'll claw you in the back when you least expect it.

Man Vs. Vending Machine

I never considered myself to have particularly large hands, but today I discovered that I was either deluded, or vending machines were made for hobbits.

The only time I come into contact with these peculiar beings is at university but although I'm starting to realise that they are more trouble than they're worth, I will not be beaten by an impassive, intellectually deprived robot.

During my first week at university, I thought I'd squeeze in a snack between lectures; the Mini Cheddars were calling me ... 

Upon bending down to retrieve them from the machine however, I realised they didn't actually fit through the flap; there was far too much air in the bag and they physically did not fit. Now I was pretty hungry, so I found myself in a full on fight with a vending machine, a fight which I lost I hasten to add. The outcome of the brawl was a bag of crumbs, half of which I left in the machine, after having to break the bag to get them out. 

Sad I know ... but desperate times, call for desperate measures ...

Vending Machine: 1 

Me: 0

A few weeks later, I tried my luck at some crisps. However, I faced similar difficulties and to avoid embarrassment in front of all of the second year students in the lecture next to me, I surrendered and abandoned the crisps in the machine. There the machine was, laughing at me, 70p richer and holding my crisps hostage ...

Vending Machine: 2

Me: 0

Today however, I opted for something a bit smaller: a Kit Kat. There was absolutely no way I was leaving this in the machine ... The Kit Kat fit through the flap fine, as for my hand though, I cannot say the same. As soon as I put my hand in, I knew it was a bad idea as I felt it instantly get wedged. At first I panicked; I thought I was going to have to awkwardly call security to come and release me from a vending machine ... 

Before I lost all dignity however, I was determined getting my hand stuck was not going to be in vain; that Kit Kat was coming out if it meant losing a limb ... there had to be a justified reason for getting in such a predicament after all ...

After desperate stretching, pushing and prodding, I got my Kit Kat and a free bruise on my hand. I managed to spare myself the humiliation of asking someone else for assistance and  painfully manoeuvred my own way out. 

Despite my war wounds ...

Vending Machine: 2 

Me: 1 

Next time vending machine, just you wait for the equaliser ... this isn't over. 

$5 for a girlfriend.

So with today being Valentine's Day, I'm thinking many people might have been a bit lonely, but how lonely do you have to be to hire a girlfriend for the day? 

I personally have had a lovely day. Those that read yesterday's post, will know I had an epiphany. So today, despite being single, I wined and dined with two men (who also happened to be two of my close friends) and had flowers and chocolates bought for me. So I'll conclude the day by saying, although Valentine's Day is over for another year, it doesn't mean you have to stop showing the people you love, that you love them.

For some however, being in a relationship seemed the be all and end all. If they were single they were depressed, if they were in a relationship they had to tell the whole world about it, posting photos of their gifts. If I didn't know any better I'd say they were trying to convince themselves ... 

How far would you go to be in a relationship on Valentine's Day?

It became clear some would go very far when I was pretty shocked to see that a guy had paid a girl on Facebook to be 'his girlfriend'  ... 

Well I say girlfriend but what I really mean is that he paid $5 to be 'in a relationship' for a week ...

I've heard of people hiring escorts, it's an age old tradition that still happens today, most recently in the 'Lewis the con man saga' in Coronation Street and in the film The Wedding Date. In these cases, at least you're getting a service; they attend  events with you and a lot of the time, people are paying for the company, but this guy literally just wanted his friends and family to think that he had a girlfriend.

I have to say, it was good value for money. For $5, 'Sophia', as she calls herself, gives you a package deal... 

- A week of being 'in a relationship' status with her

- A few status comments 

- A few 'likes'

Not much I guess ... but enough to start the gossip running through the grape vine. 

The 'online escort' doesn't take her role too seriously but the way she said, 'It's not a big deal really' hit the nail on the head: Facebook means absolutely nothing.

So why the need to lie to people? I have to say this story disappointed me; it really devalues the idea of a relationship. I'm not a Romantic, quite the opposite in fact, but this just makes a mockery of the whole idea. If Facebook is that official, it made me question what honestly is a relationship and what makes it 'Facebook Official'? 

The possibilities with social networking are becoming endless. You can be whoever you want to be to on line 'friends' but if you can't be yourself with them and they can't accept you for who you are, are they really your friends? 

As a Facebook user myself, I enjoy the social aspect of it and I have never been subject to any of the horror stories you hear about. I don't accept people I don't know, I don't broadcast my whole life on there, and if I was in a relationship, I wouldn't feel the need to tell everyone about it straight away. Facebook is cheap and meaningless. 

As a generation, I think we need to be very careful ... before long people could be having virtual 'marriages' with people they have never even met.