As I reflect on 2013 I notice a familiar pattern, all the best times were reported to others with the opening phrase “Nearly died”. Like Snowdon in may probably being the best example. Sitting on a rock, zero visibility, howling wind, hypothermia setting in, waiting to be pulled off the mountain by the RAF thinking “If I survive this, this’ll be an awesome story”. And then things got worse and we ended up climbing down 3000 ft of sheer rock face. Back on the path everyone looked at each other and just said, “Best day of my life”. 

Which is when I realised that my friends and I have an unhealthy obsession with adrenalin and staring death in the face. 



I wish I could down a pint of ice cold water right now. I don’t think there is anything more satisfying than ice water when you’re really thirsty. 


Of all the times I could get a stomach bug………………. Mind you it’s no where near as bad as the last one. I’m figuring it’s the same virus and my immune system is all, “I thought I told you to get out of town” and other such western cliches. 

Yada yada

You know what, I’m going mad. I know, I know I am mad.What I mean is that last night I was out as per and K and I were chatting a lot and hugging and eventually it comes time for her to go. So she’s about to get into the taxi and she says “Are you coming?”. I admit I was quite stunned and so the most I could get out was “Are you inviting me?”. Which in the hindsight that followed exactly four nanoseconds later I realised was a pretty dumb question. “Yeah, no sex though”. Now. This produces, in my eyes, a complicated situation. How many times has “No sex though” turned out to be a slight over exaggeration because let’s be honest putting two drunk people of the opposite sex in a room together tends to only turn out one way.   Then again though maybe she just meant, “Come back to mine, no sex”.

I don’t know, but I had a gut feeling that maybe this wasn’t entirely a good idea so I didn’t go, which is rather unlike me. I mean okay, to be honest, drunken sex doesn’t really appeal to me and sleeping in a strange place doesn’t really work for me either. Plus in this day and age one has to be a bit careful not to end up getting accused of rape, so going home with strange drunk women………not a good idea.  

So I avoided sex.

Now for four days? At least three days my mate has been pretty much demanding that I go over and do the dirty with her and at first this seemed like a good idea, but because I didn’t click my heels and go running over she’s got ratty and after x number of days of rattiness I’m just not really interested. 

In other news K started chatting to me on FB……..

Sexual politics

You know what? I’ve had enough. I’m not some horny twenty year old that’ll do anything to get laid anymore. You actually have to treat me with respect and as if you want to fuck me. Not like I’m the immediate go to guy every time some douche upsets you. How about showing some maturity in your choices? You know, like, getting to know someone before you decide that they’re the one for the umpteenth time. 

So I can’t come around and fuck you right now. You know why? I have a life. If you can wait 24 hours then sure, but I have plans I can’t cancel. Oddly I don’t exist so that I can come and give you a fuck whenever you want. If the situation was reversed you wouldn’t even think about sleeping with me. Believe me I know. The times when I feel unwanted and rejected have been the most lonely times in part because you weren’t about to jump into bed with me and make me feel better. You know what though? I never lashed out at you for it. I never expect other people to do what I want just because I want them too. 

In fact, did you not say to me not long ago “Don’t come over if you want sex”? 

I get fed up of it. As a guy you’re not allowed to turn down sex. If a woman says no to you, that’s the end of it, right? If you say no to a woman she goes ballistic. She goes into full on hell hath no fury mode. Zero to bunny boiler in 0.8 seconds and in my twenties I took this to heart but now I’m just like, I can’t be arsed with drama. You’re never going to sleep with me again, you know what? The sex was pretty shit and always on your terms anyway. It’s not like this was ever a reciprocal thing like between me and S where we look after each other because fundamentally we value each other.



On War

I’m watching this film about the Christmas truce in 1914. I’ve always wondered what would happen if the guys in the trenches just agreed to stop fighting. Or better yet decided not only to stop fighting but to back each other up against their own armies to enforce the ceasefire. Recently I read Storm of Steel which is an autobiographical account of a German officer in the first world war, it’s a bloody awesome read and it amazed me how much effort both sides put into not killing each other and how at every given opportunity peace would break out. In fact not just on not killing each other but on making sure as few of the enemy got killed as possible. On Killing is another fascinating book about war and how 98% of people are very careful not to shoot the enemy and just how much training and effort goes into getting soldiers to actually kill. 80-90% of casualties are caused by artillery or mortars. 

That’s not to say that there weren’t periods where both sides were very actively trying to kill as many people as possible, but it kinda restores my faith in humanity a bit to think that outside the heat of battle, getting one human being to kill another is a very hard thing to do. Even in war.

Message in a bottle

No person in the world can irritate me quite like Dakota. She’s one of these people that just feels no need to communicate with people. You can text her or send her emails and she won’t reply. So you stop sending messages because you assume she just doesn’t want to be friends with you and you think, “What a bitch”. Then you meet up and you’re alone and she says quite grumpily, “You’ve been quiet recently, I’ve not heard off you in ages” and for a second or two the little cogs whirr in your skull as you make sure this isn’t your fault “Well you never reply” you say. You know what she does? She smiles. What is that? What’s that all about?

Once we were out with friends and she was moaning that some guy she was seeing or was trying to get into her pants had a go at her for not replying and she shuffled in her seat oozing sass and she says, “I just didn’t feel like replying”. She knew how I felt by this time and I looked at her and suddenly she takes on this pained, guilt ridden, expression, reaches out and strokes my face. 

Yet I get a message off her and I’m all stupid grins and sighs and god I’m so sappy for her. It’s embarrassing.