No, neither have I, but this blog is the 97th most popular on Technorati (apparently).
If I'd been to this particular woman's blog no doubt I'd be able to bitch about this or moan about that, but I haven't see, so I couldn't possibly comment on her much more popular world...
Okay, I admit it, I'm just bitter that no-one visits (and reads) this blog; that this blog is invisible to Technorati, let alone ranked; that no-one seems interested in the blog of a boring one.
(Why am I not famous already?)
;-)
Friday, September 29, 2006
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
The fog is starting to clear, at last...
and I say "yay" to that.
(Let's get out there and have a game of footty!)
(Let's get out there and have a game of footty!)
Monday, September 25, 2006
Reconcilliations
Normally I prefer to write about 'him' and 'her' and not me (the world famous Boring John. You think I'm joking about Boring John's fame? He's famous in my world, baby! Ya get me!)
Anyway, *I* met someone on Saturday that I haven't seen for nearly a year, for one of those reconcilliation-type gigs.
My very long day started at 4.30am, and I rode my bicycle into town in time for the 6.16am train headed for Manchester. I arrived in Banbury at 10am, and met my friend at Cafe Quay at 11am. I left Banbury at 7pm and arrived home at about 11.30pm (thanks to a friend who let me put my bike in her car).
I was very nervous.
Yes, it was just another one of those boy-girl friendships that became something more, and then became something very much less (spectacularly so!). One of those 'how could you let it happen' situations that it's easy to be glib, smug and wiser than wise about, when it's not you involved.
But it was me involved, and I had those 'I need the loo now' anxiety blues! (Thanks, Morrisons supermarket. You keep a fine Gents.)
It wasn't a nice feeling. (The reconcilliation went well, though.)
It got me thinking about another, more famous, reconcilliation that took place between two people I know on May 3rd, 2004. There was no nervousness, I'm told, just the feeling that the protagonists were bit-part players (for a moment) in one of those fantastical movies, y'know like The Fisher King.
And then it got me thinking about reconcilliations, full stop...
People sometimes just don't get on.
That's because, borne out of their own pain, people can behave quite horribly to each other.
People can act out their neuroses and fear, often in all innocence, and fail to understand how antagonistic and unwelcome their behaviour is.
However, and this is a 'feel good' story after all (at least to me), as long as there can be reconcilliation and forgiveness there can be hope; there can be love.
So I say Amen to reconcilliations (and turn that music up!)
Anyway, *I* met someone on Saturday that I haven't seen for nearly a year, for one of those reconcilliation-type gigs.
My very long day started at 4.30am, and I rode my bicycle into town in time for the 6.16am train headed for Manchester. I arrived in Banbury at 10am, and met my friend at Cafe Quay at 11am. I left Banbury at 7pm and arrived home at about 11.30pm (thanks to a friend who let me put my bike in her car).
I was very nervous.
Yes, it was just another one of those boy-girl friendships that became something more, and then became something very much less (spectacularly so!). One of those 'how could you let it happen' situations that it's easy to be glib, smug and wiser than wise about, when it's not you involved.
But it was me involved, and I had those 'I need the loo now' anxiety blues! (Thanks, Morrisons supermarket. You keep a fine Gents.)
It wasn't a nice feeling. (The reconcilliation went well, though.)
It got me thinking about another, more famous, reconcilliation that took place between two people I know on May 3rd, 2004. There was no nervousness, I'm told, just the feeling that the protagonists were bit-part players (for a moment) in one of those fantastical movies, y'know like The Fisher King.
And then it got me thinking about reconcilliations, full stop...
People sometimes just don't get on.
That's because, borne out of their own pain, people can behave quite horribly to each other.
People can act out their neuroses and fear, often in all innocence, and fail to understand how antagonistic and unwelcome their behaviour is.
However, and this is a 'feel good' story after all (at least to me), as long as there can be reconcilliation and forgiveness there can be hope; there can be love.
So I say Amen to reconcilliations (and turn that music up!)
Friday, September 22, 2006
What Women Want!
Three little words - what women say that they want:
It's just human nature, or the difference between conscious and sub-conscious thought.
Instead, I write the above merely as an aide-memoire (to me) so that I stop trying to nice my way into a woman's knickers. (Old nice-guy habits die hard you see, what can I tell ya! I blame me Mum. If only we had had the conversation beginning: "That's very sweet, John, but if you really want some booty action, remember this..." when I was at that impressionable age. Instead it went: "That's very nice, John... Ah, isn't he lovely?". Lovely! Who wants to be lovely when your hormones are raging!)
So now I know to say nowt, and say it with a confident swagger.
You see, I told you I know what women want: John Wayne, that's who!
("Get--on--the--dance-floor--and--take--my-- hand!")
PS If you are a woman, and know much better than me what women really want, then please do leave a comment. No, really! I'd also like to discuss why men lie, why your religion really is the only true religion, and whether your bum really does look big in this. :-)
PPS The truth is I nearly know what women want. I predict I will have complete comprehension of women a few seconds before I die. Nice. Just when you need it.
- Personality
- Physical attractiveness
- Excitement
- Confidence
- Mystery
- Self-respect
It's just human nature, or the difference between conscious and sub-conscious thought.
Instead, I write the above merely as an aide-memoire (to me) so that I stop trying to nice my way into a woman's knickers. (Old nice-guy habits die hard you see, what can I tell ya! I blame me Mum. If only we had had the conversation beginning: "That's very sweet, John, but if you really want some booty action, remember this..." when I was at that impressionable age. Instead it went: "That's very nice, John... Ah, isn't he lovely?". Lovely! Who wants to be lovely when your hormones are raging!)
So now I know to say nowt, and say it with a confident swagger.
You see, I told you I know what women want: John Wayne, that's who!
("Get--on--the--dance-floor--and--take--my-- hand!")
PS If you are a woman, and know much better than me what women really want, then please do leave a comment. No, really! I'd also like to discuss why men lie, why your religion really is the only true religion, and whether your bum really does look big in this. :-)
PPS The truth is I nearly know what women want. I predict I will have complete comprehension of women a few seconds before I die. Nice. Just when you need it.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
"Stuck in the middle with YOU"
"If you want to become [emotionally] unstuck, you have to identify what the reward is in your stuck position.
"[And then you have to ask yourself] 'Am I prepared to give up this reward?'"
If not, I humbly suggest dear reader, then you will be stuck in the middle with YOU.
Hey, it's been a few days already. You must have some more problems to solve by now!
"[And then you have to ask yourself] 'Am I prepared to give up this reward?'"
If not, I humbly suggest dear reader, then you will be stuck in the middle with YOU.
Hey, it's been a few days already. You must have some more problems to solve by now!
Friday, September 15, 2006
I'm a dreamer!
Are you?
I dream about a place where men respect women; where white laughs together with black; where people smile at each other (yes, even in London); where there is enough for all - enough time, enough food, enough love; where mistakes are tolerated and even forgiven...
Er, no!
(My mythical 'reader' must now imagine the 'scratched record' sound of a stylus being forced back to the beginning.)
I _____ dream _______ of
. . . . . . . much
. . . . . . . . . . . . . darker
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . things.
I dream of ex-Radio 1 DJ, now Classic FM stalwart, Simon Bates (that's scary enough as it is, let's be honest!) snogging a woman at a party that wasn't his wife. (For some reason, this reality of married man's life seemed to disturb me.)
I dream of weddings and getting my smart clothes dirty, and then (much, much worse in the world of dreams, this I can tell you!) I dream that I cut myself, that I am bleeding.
I dream that I'm speaking to people, trying to get their attention ("what food would you like me to cook, everybody?"), but no-one can hear me. No one is listening.
I dream of being shot in the head by troops rounding up insurgents (i.e. me) and despatching them mercilessly, almost gleefully, with the justice of war. I even feel the 'moment of death'; I even visit my dead body a few days later, see the bullet wounds.
When I dream of sex it either doesn't involve me and I'm just a frustrated watcher, or it does involve me and I really wish it didn't (I couldn't possibly tell all, here. Let me save it for my first post-success interview with, ooh, Psychologies magazine or maybe even The Big Issue.)
And even when I dream of Cowboys (no Indians), there's a sinister edge to proceedings. Caves are involved, and killings, lots of killings.
And I always, always, always dream of the scary geyser who, for some unknown reason, always wants to seem to run after me. And despite the fear that propels my legs, he always seems to be able to run faster than me. Alright, he's never quite caught me yet, as I always seem to wake up, but I really wish he had caught me in my teens, when he first appeared, as now I'd be able to just get on my with my much-needed sleep.
Is it any wonder, my fellow dreamer, that I completely understand the similar plight of one little yellow boy called Bart Simpson, who is often seen waking from disturbing dreams, screaming.
Ay caramba, what a dreamer I am!
PS I did dream of meeting the Dalai Llama once. I couldn't possibly tell you what happened now could I! Let's just say that there were no sex scenes and nobody died!
I dream about a place where men respect women; where white laughs together with black; where people smile at each other (yes, even in London); where there is enough for all - enough time, enough food, enough love; where mistakes are tolerated and even forgiven...
Er, no!
(My mythical 'reader' must now imagine the 'scratched record' sound of a stylus being forced back to the beginning.)
I _____ dream _______ of
. . . . . . . much
. . . . . . . . . . . . . darker
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . things.
I dream of ex-Radio 1 DJ, now Classic FM stalwart, Simon Bates (that's scary enough as it is, let's be honest!) snogging a woman at a party that wasn't his wife. (For some reason, this reality of married man's life seemed to disturb me.)
I dream of weddings and getting my smart clothes dirty, and then (much, much worse in the world of dreams, this I can tell you!) I dream that I cut myself, that I am bleeding.
I dream that I'm speaking to people, trying to get their attention ("what food would you like me to cook, everybody?"), but no-one can hear me. No one is listening.
I dream of being shot in the head by troops rounding up insurgents (i.e. me) and despatching them mercilessly, almost gleefully, with the justice of war. I even feel the 'moment of death'; I even visit my dead body a few days later, see the bullet wounds.
When I dream of sex it either doesn't involve me and I'm just a frustrated watcher, or it does involve me and I really wish it didn't (I couldn't possibly tell all, here. Let me save it for my first post-success interview with, ooh, Psychologies magazine or maybe even The Big Issue.)
And even when I dream of Cowboys (no Indians), there's a sinister edge to proceedings. Caves are involved, and killings, lots of killings.
And I always, always, always dream of the scary geyser who, for some unknown reason, always wants to seem to run after me. And despite the fear that propels my legs, he always seems to be able to run faster than me. Alright, he's never quite caught me yet, as I always seem to wake up, but I really wish he had caught me in my teens, when he first appeared, as now I'd be able to just get on my with my much-needed sleep.
Is it any wonder, my fellow dreamer, that I completely understand the similar plight of one little yellow boy called Bart Simpson, who is often seen waking from disturbing dreams, screaming.
Ay caramba, what a dreamer I am!
PS I did dream of meeting the Dalai Llama once. I couldn't possibly tell you what happened now could I! Let's just say that there were no sex scenes and nobody died!
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
What to say, today?
I'm not sure if getting everything done today, and being ahead, is better than feeling anxious about time and worrying about my future.
The former situation means I now have nowt to say.
The latter situation? Boy, I could rant on and on about women (and men) and their stoopid ways for days and days and days. But the moment seems to have passed.
Gone.
Perhaps lost forever to my new-found bliss.
Perhaps you should get in touch with me, yes you, and agitate a little. It's a volcano waiting to happen baby, oh yes. Just needs the right button punching for me to punch you right back!
In the meantime...
So, how you been?
PS do you think I'm sexy?
The former situation means I now have nowt to say.
The latter situation? Boy, I could rant on and on about women (and men) and their stoopid ways for days and days and days. But the moment seems to have passed.
Gone.
Perhaps lost forever to my new-found bliss.
Perhaps you should get in touch with me, yes you, and agitate a little. It's a volcano waiting to happen baby, oh yes. Just needs the right button punching for me to punch you right back!
In the meantime...
So, how you been?
PS do you think I'm sexy?
Monday, September 11, 2006
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Ah memories
Aaaargh technology.
I wrote this lovely (well not bad) piece about memories, about being reminded of being in a place called Ironbridge and of a place called Alhambra (in Granada, Spain). And how this then reminded me of the person I had visited both of the places with. And how I sent this person a text message after a year of not talking to her (after a nasty fall-out, via email), and how she replied, positively.
As I said I had written a piece, but then the Blogger technology died on me, and I lost it all.
Aaargh!
Technology.
(But ah, memories.)
I wrote this lovely (well not bad) piece about memories, about being reminded of being in a place called Ironbridge and of a place called Alhambra (in Granada, Spain). And how this then reminded me of the person I had visited both of the places with. And how I sent this person a text message after a year of not talking to her (after a nasty fall-out, via email), and how she replied, positively.
As I said I had written a piece, but then the Blogger technology died on me, and I lost it all.
Aaargh!
Technology.
(But ah, memories.)
Ah, memories
Someone - we won't name them, but they're close to me - was reminiscing today.
(Ah, memories!)
He walked behind Skipton castle (as you do), along a meandering pathway. From a certain viewpoint, next to the obligatory happy gushing waterfall, it looked very much like The Alhambra in Granada, Spain. And then he thought of an odd tourist spot called Ironbridge that he'd visited on a similarly sunny Sunday (very popular but you wonder why). And then he remembered the person that connected the two places: the woman he had experienced The Alhambra and Ironbridge with.
And then he sent a text message to that person, after a year of not doing so (due to an awful fight, lasting several emails).
And she replied by text message, about as positively as he could have hoped for.
Ah, technology.
Ah, memories.
(Ah, memories!)
He walked behind Skipton castle (as you do), along a meandering pathway. From a certain viewpoint, next to the obligatory happy gushing waterfall, it looked very much like The Alhambra in Granada, Spain. And then he thought of an odd tourist spot called Ironbridge that he'd visited on a similarly sunny Sunday (very popular but you wonder why). And then he remembered the person that connected the two places: the woman he had experienced The Alhambra and Ironbridge with.
And then he sent a text message to that person, after a year of not doing so (due to an awful fight, lasting several emails).
And she replied by text message, about as positively as he could have hoped for.
Ah, technology.
Ah, memories.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
I'm tired!
That's really all I have to say, actually.
I'm going to go for a lie-down. Back soon, pepped up and peppy! It will still be the same ol' same ol' but delivered with more pep.
(See what I mean! I'm tired.)
I'm going to go for a lie-down. Back soon, pepped up and peppy! It will still be the same ol' same ol' but delivered with more pep.
(See what I mean! I'm tired.)
Friday, September 08, 2006
More Banging On!
Hi
I like "banging on" as much as the rest of ya, I really do.
I can round up several of the usual (and unusual) suspects to vouch for it, too.
Admittedly sometimes I "bang on" when I'm not meant to be "banging on", and in a way that aint no fun for no-one. But I aint perfect. I'm saving perfection for my next life, see. (Clever, eh!)
Anyway, I'm 'banging on' a bit about "banging on".
Let's just say that the following videos represent 'Game, set, match' to me in terms of content and music. No stick figures they!
Or, and I'd like this be the final word on this particular matter, bang on this, Monkey Girl, bang on this!
Boring (Monkey One) John
PS Never forget, "I've got something to put in you!" ;-)
I like "banging on" as much as the rest of ya, I really do.
I can round up several of the usual (and unusual) suspects to vouch for it, too.
Admittedly sometimes I "bang on" when I'm not meant to be "banging on", and in a way that aint no fun for no-one. But I aint perfect. I'm saving perfection for my next life, see. (Clever, eh!)
Anyway, I'm 'banging on' a bit about "banging on".
Let's just say that the following videos represent 'Game, set, match' to me in terms of content and music. No stick figures they!
Or, and I'd like this be the final word on this particular matter, bang on this, Monkey Girl, bang on this!
Boring (Monkey One) John
PS Never forget, "I've got something to put in you!" ;-)
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
I've read hundreds of quoations, recently...
but these words are my own (I believe)...
"The truly wise wait when it's necessary to wait, and act when it's necessary to act. Truly. Wise."
So, yes, you can quote me on that (should you wish to).
"The truly wise wait when it's necessary to wait, and act when it's necessary to act. Truly. Wise."
So, yes, you can quote me on that (should you wish to).
The return of Sickish Mish!
Dear Sickish Mish
Firstly, can I say thank you so much for making me laugh this morning.
My alter-ego tells me you got in touch recently moaning (as ever) about the usual suspect problem! And, judging by the time of your moan, I can see nothing's changed.
I think he had a rather eloquent to solution to Problem No. 1 in your life - it made me smile, and marvel a little at EF's 'delicacy'. I'd have been more direct, however, in a poetic way of course. I'd have said that you need to extend your watering holes; to widen your notion of North and South.
Remember, Ms SM, "Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence..."
So, if you really do need a problem, get in touch!
Thanks again for the laughter - it made my day. I usually rely on the yellow family to do this, but today I can give htem a day off. [Htem? Homer! You promised me you'd stop letting the chickens update my spell-checker!]
Yours Boring John
PS You can put your gun away, I've got my own! ;-)
Firstly, can I say thank you so much for making me laugh this morning.
My alter-ego tells me you got in touch recently moaning (as ever) about the usual suspect problem! And, judging by the time of your moan, I can see nothing's changed.
I think he had a rather eloquent to solution to Problem No. 1 in your life - it made me smile, and marvel a little at EF's 'delicacy'. I'd have been more direct, however, in a poetic way of course. I'd have said that you need to extend your watering holes; to widen your notion of North and South.
Remember, Ms SM, "Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence..."
So, if you really do need a problem, get in touch!
Thanks again for the laughter - it made my day. I usually rely on the yellow family to do this, but today I can give htem a day off. [Htem? Homer! You promised me you'd stop letting the chickens update my spell-checker!]
Yours Boring John
PS You can put your gun away, I've got my own! ;-)
"I don't have any problems, what can I do"
So says someone called John Boring.
But Ego Fatigo is having none of it.
His reply is:
"Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."
So there you have it, John.
How 'bout you?
Do you have any problems?
But Ego Fatigo is having none of it.
His reply is:
"Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."
So there you have it, John.
How 'bout you?
Do you have any problems?
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Fear?
Are you afraid of anything?
I mean are you afraid of anything that you shouldn't be afraid of? Like commitment, love, change.
And what do you do if you recognise that you are afraid of something? Do you simply:
(But I guess it's summed up by oft-quoted phrase, feel the fear but do it anyway!)
I mean are you afraid of anything that you shouldn't be afraid of? Like commitment, love, change.
And what do you do if you recognise that you are afraid of something? Do you simply:
- Make it go away, like magic?
- Tell yourself to snap out of it?
- Be unafraid?
(But I guess it's summed up by oft-quoted phrase, feel the fear but do it anyway!)
Monday, September 04, 2006
Got 99 Problems
If you have 99 problems in your life (or less) then this is the place to go. Or, if your Ego is Fatigo, come on over to my place
Note: if you have 100 problems or more, then I'm afraid you'll have to find somewhere else to moan and whinge! ;-)
Note: if you have 100 problems or more, then I'm afraid you'll have to find somewhere else to moan and whinge! ;-)
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