Bah Humbug!!

So, the Christmas season is nearly over and has passed by very uneventfully for me!! This is by no means a complaint, infact I have loved the fact that I have had (almost) no one to please this festive period apart from myself!! This may sound selfish but it's been really relaxing to have a bit of time to myself to just relax and reflect on a great year. I have missed not spending time with my folks and my bro but I will be doing so soon and not under the banner of christmas. It is supposed to be a jolly time of year where one and all can enjoy the company of their nearest and dearest and have a break from the rigours of day to day life. For a lot of people who I have spoken to over the last few weeks it's been nothing but stress. Mad dashes for presents and crackers and turkeys. Constant cleaning and preparing for the influx of family and friends on the 'big' day. People are getting all hot under the collar to make sure it all goes down with a bang. Doesn't that defeat the whole purpose of having some time off to chill. I also dread to think the amount of hard earned cash that has been spent in this time of financial crisis, it baffles me. Call me scrooge or whatever but I can't understand the love for this fake time of year. Christmas is for kids in my opinion and they should have the time of their lives but us adults and even teenagers should chill out with the whole yule tide festivities. Yes, have time with your loved ones. Yes, have a drink and eat some crappy food. Yes, put your feet up and do as little as possible. No, don't drive yourself to distraction with presents and cleaning and cooking otherwise by the time January comes you'll need a week off to get over it all.

My christmas day was awesome, I finished work t 9am and went for a nice long run , worked out in the gym at work and went home. Once home I put my feet up and watched TV, felt a bit tired so went to bed for a couple of hours. I woke up and didn't fancy getting out of bed so stuck a film on and relaxed in bed for another couple of hrs. I then went to a mates house and had a couple of beers, watched a film and played on the Wii. It was almost perfect, I pleased myself. I would have loved to have seen my family of course but I will be there in the next week so no dramas.

I have decided that from this year forth I will not allow christmas to become a stressful time, it should be a time to recharge the batteries after a long, hard year and enjoy the company of those you care about. Here's to stress free Christmas' from here on in.

Pole dancing Extravaganza

Last friday was the Islington Red Watch christmas party, we went to the 'Miss Pole Dance UK, Christmas Ball. The lads went to the actual competition, where they crowned Miss pole dance UK, a few months back and had an absolute blast. The event was a masked ball and we had VIP tickets. It was all set up to be a good one.

We started in the bar over the road from the station and had to wait there for some time, firemen tend to be tarts and some spend hours preening themselves!!! We finally managed to get everyone together, about 13 of us all told, and headed for the venue. Dumber was already pissed by this point and his future was looking bleak! Into 3 taxis and on our way to Scala for a night of shennanigans. On our entry to the club we were handed our masks, I donned mine with pride and was looking hot to trot. It wasn't very busy when we arrived but the ratio of women to men was superb. All the women were dressed in pole dancing/ burlesque style and it was a veritable feast for the eyes.

We made our way to the VIP area but it was a bit detached from the stage area and dance floor, not an ideal location. Once everyone was masked up we had a team photo and then went our own separate ways, I wanted to be as far away from the guv as possible as he was getting the worse for wear and behaving like an embarrassing dad. Dumber headed straight for the dance floor and was hitting on anything that moved. Isn't it funny that drunk is attracted to drunk. Dumber managed to team up with the drunkest, not to mention largest, women in the club/world and together they caused havoc. They hugged and knocked each other off balance, taking out about 10 other revellers almost like ten pin bowling, it was hilarious. I noticed his beau being escorted off the premises a little while later, by 2 burly doormen, however, dumber was unperterbed and continued to harass anything in a skirt for the rest of the night. watching him get rebuffed over and over again was hilarious. Fair play to him though as he ploughed on regardless.

I was enjoying myself too, being one of only 30ish men in a crowd of hundreds of people is a lot of fun!! The pole dancing itself was a spectacle to behold, the strength and athletisism displayed by these women was incredible. I was in awe of the power and fitness they exhibited and was dying to have a go and see what my bad self could do. I was to be granted my wish, I was up in the VIP area with Dave and couldn't hold my urges back any longer. I told him the next time he saw me I would be atop the pole, he told me I didn't have the bottle and would never do it. Driven on by Dave's dare I plucked up the courage and made my way to the stage. I was welcomed by the lovely MC and then told to go my own merry way and have some fun with it. I climbed to the top of the pole, in my trousers and boots which are not ideal pole dancing garments, and surveyed the audience. There were a good couple of hundred folk watching and I felt I owed them a show. I proceeded to try and replicate some of the moves I had seen throughout the evening but don't think I was too successful. I got down, in one piece thankfully, and got a nice kiss from the hostess who said I did a good job. Later on in the night there were a few encore requests which I felt obliged to honour, scarily I enjoyed the pole dancing and may have found a new career should the fire service ever become too boring!!!

All in all it was a cracking night and much fun was had by most, would love to say all but there is no pleasing some people, of the Red Watch. Plenty of stories to be told round the mess table for a good few weeks if not months. Watch this space as this may be the launch pad for my pole dancing career!!!

Heart break boxing!!

I have just finished watching the big fight form the weekend, no, not that over rated Amir Khan bloke, Oscar de la Hoya vs Manny Pacquiao. I was amazed by the speed, skill and grace of the much smaller Pacquiao. It almost looked like David against Goliath, in this one however, David was kickin' Goliath's ass from the get go!!

Both these fighters are legends, one in the making and one soon to be done. Pacquiao is pound for pound number 1 on the planet whilst de la Hoya has won world titles in 6 different weight divisions up to middleweight. As I watched the 2 square off in the centre of the famous ring in the MGM Grand Garden Arena, I was nervous for Manny. He was dwarfed by Oscar and I feared he may be blown out of the fight. This wasn't to be, he was classy and rapid. Oscar began to look confused, he just couldn't get close to Pacquiao or trap him in the corner. It reminded me of the old Tom and Jerry cartoons. The giant cat Tom was being made to look foolish by the smart and elegant Jerry. Every time Tom thought he had him cornered, Jerry would just slip by and tap him on the shoulder and smile.

It actually brought a tear to my eye to witness a modern boxing legend being brought to his knees in such brutal but beautiful fashion. It was as if the old pound for pound Champ was being led to the door by the new kid on the block. To see Oscar de la Hoya sat forlornly on his stool at the end of the eighth round, left eye almost swollen shut, being asked by the doctor if he was OK and not really knowing how to answer, it made me sad. I felt for his pride at suffering the most emphatic defeat of his career. Yes, he had been stopped before but never in such a humiliating fashion. It really set me off emotionally, I felt his pain. Most of us have experienced defeat before and can empathise but for this great warrior to be left perched on his stool in front of the world, unable to answer the bell , I found it profoundly upsetting.

As always Oscar de la Hoya did not make excuses, even though prompted to by the interviewer. He said he was out boxed and outclassed by the better man. He didn't blame coming down in the weight divisions, going so far as to say he was fine in the gym so why should the fight have been different? I have always harboured the up most respect for the phenomenal athlete and upstanding human being that is Mr Oscar de la Hoya and am proud to have been around during his hey day. I hope now he hangs up his gloves and keeps giving to the sport via his promotional work, his business partner Bernard Hopkins could learn a thing or two about dignity from him.

As for Manny Pacquiao, the boxing world is his oyster. I would love to see him fight Floyd Mayweather Jnr next but think he may get a bout with Ricky Hatton in first. Whichever of those fights he takes, I will be watching and cheering for the little Filipino. It's not the size of the dog in the fight it's the size of the fight in the dog.

Weekend craziness!!!

I don't know what it is about BMF parties but I tend to get unceremoniously drunk at them. The xmas ball was no exception. It was a smashing evening of dancing, frolicking and drinking. Ok, scrap the first 2 it mainly comprised completely of quaffing cheap champagne. I took a couple of the lads from work ( fire brigade) and Rudie went berserk on his outfit. We were all tuxedo'd up but my man Rudie took it to the next level. Cream jacket with tails, cream trousers, bowler hat, white silk shirt, top hat, cane and white and black shoes. He went down gloriously with the Ballers!!!

There is always an amazing atmosphere at Bmf parties, I think it is down to the clientele of what I would describe as one of the best fitness company in the country, if not the world!! Everyone is out for a good time, there is never an atmosphere and although the punters are from all walks of life, everyone is there for the same reason, to get drunk as skunks!! No, to have fun I mean!!! I liked the little touch with the wrist bands of celebrities, trying to find your celebrity partner encouraged people to break out of the comfort of their own group and make new friends. I was Bobby Brown, naturally, and spent a lot of time searching for Whitney. She must have been hiding from me for fear of me kicking seven bells out of her. Later on that evening I did find her, she had put on some weight since I had last seen her but being the gentleman I am I decided to take her roughly by the arm and drag her up to the champagne bar to claim our free drink. I then gave her a sales pitch about joining BMF and fucked her bad self back off to her mates.

I must say I was also impressed by the efforts of the BMF ladies, they all looked superb in their evening wear and it was a veritable feast for a red blooded male. Obviously I was only looking as "it's not a dating agency". Famous quote from our venerable leader Mr Robin Cope. For me, another perk of the evening was catching up with the instructors who I don't see very regularly anymore. This helps in the getting drunk bit as well. The ball was superb, popcorn, ice cream and hot dog vendors wandered through the masses keeping everyone sustained. I think i must have eaten a dodgy hot dog as I felt very unwell the following day. 

The ball was a massive success and afterwards the warriors crammed into the bar next door for the after party. There was a small ruckus between 2 polish guys and a high ranking member of the BMF head shed, I shall mention no names but Kev Lomas was involved!!! I went to the after after party and stumbled home around 7am the following morning. I was up at 8 to take some of the fighters to Crawley for their first fights, not a shining example of professionalism but got the job done.

A massive thanks to Lou and all her staff who made the Ball a scream, thanks for the invite!!! Don't know where Crispin was mind you, poor show Moyles!!!

A busy week of normality.

Life is pretty hectic at the moment, nothing special but it's all go. I taught a class at 'the boxing clinic' last week. It was good fun and a bit of a culture shock for some of the punters. At the end of the class a few of the clients came up to me and asked me where I was from and before I could tell them I was from North London they had already decided I had come from Hell!!! I aim to please. They also commented on me on the companies blog saying, in no uncertain terms, that I am a horrible little man. Job well done, but being described as unsympathetic hurt, I have feelings you know.

At the fun factory, Islington Fire Station, we have 2 new guys now. 1 is a brummie who I struggle to understand, worst accent in the world. Good lad, though not the sharpest tool in the box. He has been with us 3 months and is settling in well. Just this week we got another new guy, he too is a few sandwiches short of a picnic. On his first day he forgot to shave, then when he was pulled up on this matter he tried to pretend he had. Unfortunately the facial hair gave it away!! The 2nd day on a drill he messed up unceremoniously but this has been put down to nerves, not by me, I attribute it to uselessness!!! On his first night he went to bed at 2230, stand down doesn't begin til' midnight. So, all in all, not the brightest of starts but at least it can only improve for him. Now we have dumb and dumber on the watch it could be quite a fun place to be. I have decided to embrace work and enjoy it as much as I can, no point in moping around, life's too short. With the arrival of dumb and dumber the dynamic of the watch has changed too, now the young blokes, myself included, match the fossils. Thank god for that.

A weekend of hard work, garage raving and budgie saving!!!

This weekend was a veritable mixture of socialising. On saturday night I went down to South London, God forbid, to meet up with the BMF instructors after the training day and have a couple of jars. We were in a lovely pub near Chelsea and it was remarkably civilised. Once we had had a few drinks down South my longing for the North grew ever stronger so we headed back to Hoxton Sq to continue the party. I always seem to have issues being allowed into bars in said Sq, after some serious negotiations and gratuitous Fire Brigade warrant card flashing we blagged our way in and met up with a group of mates. 

The bar was extremely crowded and a little pretencious so Dave, a mate from work, decided it would be good to go to a Garage night in Vauxhall. Back to the South and for shitty Garage music??? Oh well, if that's where the party is i'll give it a bash. We got to the venue and under went a vigorous body search and through metal detectors, not a good sign, or is it. At least they were taking security seriously. Inside this cramped and sweaty hole the music was blasting and the drugged up crowd, drinking beer out of cans, were throwing shapes all over the place. I had 2 choices, stand around and moan about the dated music and rough crowd, get me, or get stuck in. I chose the latter and started dancing like no one was watching. I was having a blast, good friends around me and a great atmosphere. Then I clambered up onto the stage and started dancing in a most un rude boy like fashion, it was hilarious. A few of the tough guys looked at me funny but I was in the zone and loving it, I was busting the old one potato two potato dance and all the cheesy moves I could dig up. We stumbled out of the club at 4ish as me and Dave had to be on duty at 0830. By the time we got home it was 5, Dave crashed on my sofa and I managed 2 hrs sleep before my pesky alarm went off for work.

I was in shit state at work, not from the alcohol just from lack of sleep. We had a rememberence parade for the fallen heroes which I wouldn't have missed for the world. Then we got a fire call, it was a small fire in a kitchen but inside were a budgie and a dog, with total disregard for our own safety, me and one of the boys pulled those poor creatures from the smokey house and saved their lives. It's a tough job but someones got to do it. That dealt with it was back to the station for more hard graft, scrubbing the motors for monday's inspection. A few more shouts and finally 6pm rolled around and I crawled off duty a broken man. I got round to my folks for a much needed home cooked meal, man i'm going to miss them when they are in Spain for good. All in all a superb weekend full of friendships, laughter and what makes my job exciting......... FIRE!!!

Training for sweet FA

I have been told this week, just 3 weeks away from the fight and after almost 2 months of preparation and hellish work in the gym, my fight is off! All that blood , sweat and tears and no chance to take it out on someone at the end is very frustrating. It is not unusual in the fight game for this to happen and I have been around for a while so shouldn't be too suprised. However, I am the best I have ever been, super fit, strong and techniqually excellent. On the plus side, I am in the best shape I have ever been so it wasn't all for nought. I am going to describe below what an average work out is like to give those who don't fight an insight into the horrible world of pre fight training camps.

Extra Cardio- This takes place before training with everyone else!! 3x5 min rounds with 1min rest in between.

Round 1

1st min bunny hopping over kick shields with a sprawl at each end (sprawl is where you drop to the ground forcing your hips down but keeping your back arched and your upper body upright) 

2nd min-jump once over kick shield then sprawl, then twice over and sprawl, then three time etc......

3rd min-rope climb constantly up and down

4th min-wall walk, sit with back flat against the wall legs outstretched. grip 8kg kettle bell against chest and stand up without using your hands, pushing in to the wall. repeat from start position

5th min- pick up heavy punch bag over shoulder and slam it into ground, repeat for whole min.

1 minute rest

Round 2- Everything in this round done with harness and someone pulling back against you.

1st min-sprint to rope, climb it, sprint to end of gym and back to rope, climb it etc... for whole min

2nd min-bear crawl (scramble run) on harness for whole min

3rd min- on harness sprawl then stand up and shoot ( place front knee on floor then drive through with the rear knee and stand up) constantly down the mat for the whole time working against the trainers resistance

4th min- more sprinting up and down the mat against the resistance of the coach.

5th min- non stop burpees with jump

1min rest thank god. Just enought time to put on 10kg weight vest and re attach harness.

Round 3 Circuit to be done as many times as poss in 5 mins.

circuit starts with a sprawl then 6 bunny hops over kick shield, bear crawl down to coach, harness sprint to rope, climb rope, pick up heavy bag and throw it, grab 2 x 16kg kettle bells and sprint to the end of the mat and back, sprint back to start, sprawl and repeat whole thing. My record is 8 laps in 5 mins.

Then fall down and die untill main class starts, 1 hour of boxing including 10 minute hard cardio workout and 20 mins, at least, sparring. Then change t-shirt and do 1 hour grappling including at least 15 mins of sparring. Then try to get home on the tube without looking like a dead person. i was doing this 3 x per week on top off running in my own time, teaching british military fitness and training 2 x per week, mainly sparring with some good fighters. It's tough as hell but I absolutely love it and am going to keep it up eventhough the fight is off, why let the fitness slide.

THAT WHICH DOESN'T KILL US, ONLY MAKES US STRONGER!!

The superficial womens' world of Las Vegas

I was absolutely amazed by the social dynamics in Vegas, I don't know why as it is, afterall, money town. I consider myself an amiable chap and like to get about and meet new people. Both male and female I hasten to add, although the males are for friendship only. ( Just wanted to clarify!!)

I was excited about going out into big, bad Sin City all by myself and having some fun, meeting some interesting folk and partying hard. I met a cool Latino guy at the bar in MGM and had a few drinks, he was an interesting bloke with many a good tale to tell, a bit full of bullshit but entertainingly so. We decided to go to 'Wasted Space' at the Hardrock to have a late drink and see what the ladies were like. It looked good from the off and outside the club we were approached by 2 gorgeous chicks. Game on, I thought. Small talk began and then one of the girls said " Let's go party in the club" I was down with that. As we walked towards the door the same chick mentioned that there was a $10 cover charge and that we should pay for them. Hold on a god damn, cotton picking minute here. Rewind, what did she say??? I should pay for her??? Really, why....? That was my next question. Because I want to party with her so it's the done thing. Not in my world darling!!

This may sound a bit of an over reaction but it's the principle. $10 is nothing and if she had of kept her mouth shut I may have offered, probably not but hey. I have no dramas in buying things for people and being generous but I usually prefer to do it off my own back. My parents told me " I want never gets" and I believe in that. After a while the girls sauntered off to find some mug willing to pay for them to get in. Not before they had tried everything " we really wanna have a drink with you guys" I said " well if thats the case there is a bar over there that is free, let's go there?" I didn't think so.

I payed my way into the club and was startled by the amount of cosmetically enhanced females in the place. All very pleasing on the eye I must add. I began to mingle and was encountering a similar problem in every conversation I had with a woman. "Blah, blah, blah, small talk, small talk, small talk oh and are you going to buy me a drink?" NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!!

In the end I had to ask a young lady why everyone wanted something all the time here. It's just the way it is in Vegas, guy's buy stuff for girls and we expect it. At least she was honest. Vegas was obviously not the place for me and after I bought myself a few more drinks I retired to the sanctity of my hotel and away from the money grabbers.

In a way I take an awesome positive from this experience, London is great and it's women are classy, sassy and intelligent. In stark contrast to the Vegas vampires. Maybe I just had a bad experience but Vegas is a fickel town and most of the female population are plastic. I appreciate London's women much more now. 

Vegas, bad beats, unplanned swimming and fake boobies!!!! Part II

I awoke the next day, well evening but in Vegas time means nothing, to a host of missed calls from a worried mate. If he was so worried then why didn't he stay up past 8pm? He told me we had a table booked for dinner at the Wynn, mega posh, and if I was going to join them I had an hour to get ready. I stumbled from my pit with a mouth like Ghandi's flip flop, found my way to the bathroom and was shocked at what I saw. My mouth was stained bright pink, from all the cranberry juice, and my eyes were like piss holes in the snow. After a shower and the tooth brushing from hell I looked, if not felt, normal again. 

We got to the Wynn and took our seats in our plush restaurant, table overlooking the lake where they had shows every 15mins. I was cutting up pretty rough and only managed to order a coke and some iced water. The rest of the crew were tucking in to their delicious looking starters and cocktails whilst I suffered in, almost, silence. I ordered a steak and awaited it with fear as to whether I would be able to keep it down. It was beautifully cooked and tasted sublime which made the fact that I couldn't finish it all the more distressing. The final nail in the coffin came when I got my share of the bill, $100 for a steak I didn't eat, a coke and a glass of tap water. Everyone else had cocktails and starters as well. I think they may have taken advantage of my good nature. That night Ed was up for a night out, shock horror, I tried to stay out but by 2am I was finished and had to turn in.

The next day I was back to 100% and did some chilling by the pool before deciding to head off to the gym. This gym is world famous in MMA circles and is home to 2 world champs and a plethora of other top fighters. I turned up for the 6pm class to find out, much to my delight, that it was to be taken by none other than the world, light heavyweight champion- Forrest Griffin. it was fantastic to be taught by this guy who has always been a favourite of mine and I was inspired by his humility and sense of humour. Not to mention his skill. That alone would have been enough to have made my trip to Vegas worth while, everything else became a bonus.

That was the last real adventure of my Vegas experience, did a lot more poker playing, it was a roller coaster of good results and bad. A lot more lounging by the MGM's wonderful pool. Admiring the bevy of beauties floating around without the need of floatation devices, if you know what I mean. All in all a great trip to one of the best places I have been, I love Vegas. Next time I go I want to go with people up for a party though, any takers??

Vegas, bad beats, unplanned swimming and fake boobies!!!!

I left sunny Vegas on monday and arrived back in sunny (unbelievably so) London early this morning. It is good to be back but I had a wicked time in Sin City and caused havoc in true Vickers style, back to the old sko0ol.

I arrived the first day and it was blazing, 80 at least, not a cloud in the sky, awesome. I checked into my hotel, The Monte Carlo. It's ideally situated and comfortable so I was happy. I had a few hours to kill waiting for my pals to arrive and went to have a mooch about and get my bearings again. The first thing I noticed was that it was way quieter than when Ricky Hatton's barmy army were in town. My friends called me to announce their arrival and I took over a bottle of VC to the MGM grand to start as we meant to go on. We popped the champers and wished Andy a happy birthday then went for dinner. We decided on the mexican we ate in before the fight last year as it was lovely back then. Big mistake, the food was awful this time around. I was all dolled up and ready to party but the team weren't having it and let me down and went to bed at 9pm. 9pm in Vegas is a very poor effort, gutted. With no one to party with I decided to hit the sack, could I sleep, could I fuck. I rolled out of my huge and extremely comfortable bed at about 7 and went to play a bit of poker. Did well in my first session, ended up $100. It's way harder to get the dough than when the drunken mancs were in town for the Hatton fight.

Had a lovely breakfast in the Venettion Hotel, poached eggs, hash brown, toast, bacon, sausages and gammon- boooooooooom. That's what I'm talking about, no wonder yanks are fat!! Had another winning poker session there too, but it was hard work. I have never played against such miserable fuckers in my life. I was in high spirits and couldn't get anyone to get into a conversation, I told all  my best jokes, no reaction, that's some quality comedy material. I knew I was in trouble then. Wasn't all bad though, had a couple of arguments with locals, mainly because they didn't like the baby faced poker assassin taking there cash, check me the fuck out. As expected I rose to the bait and enjoyed the mud slinging with gusto. That night I was sure we were going to have a big night out but once again my lightweight buddy let me down. I hit the town with his brother in law, a lovely fella, only 22 and a broad scouser who doesn't like talking to people he doesn't know!! I got talking to a lovely latina chick, the accent just blows me away!! We had a good evening knocking back Tequilla's and all kinds of horrible shit. Then me and Ed decided to go looking for some further action on the strip. Outside the Bellagio I decided it was a perfect photo oppourtunity, in my pissed as a ferret state I tried to climb onto the wall and pose for a shot. My balance betrayed me and I was there like a cartoon character, arms windmilling trying to save myself from the inevitable. Then it was all over, I toppled backwards and crashed into a huge, prickly bush. Fortunately the bush saved me from total immersion in the pond. I dragged myself out and brushed myself off ready to crack on. That's Vegas baby!!

The next night was even crazier, I was having a drink with Ed in the MGM grand bar when he decided that he was tired. Now I wouldn't mind but he's 22 and had done fuck all except shopping all day and it was only midnight. I was cool though cos' I had buddied up with this crazy mexican dude and we were gonna party, it's Sin city not fucking sleep city!!! So me and my knew pal ended up in The Hardrock, where I encountered some of the most beautiful but pretentious women I have ever had the msfortune of meeting. I will go into this more on another post as it really grips my shit and deserves it's own page!! That place shut and I went to the Wynn, I was alone by this stage but made a couple of new friends there!! I then decided it would be a good idea to play blackjack at my hotel. It was a right laugh, the table was fun and I was on top form, they should have been paying me for my standup comedy, eventhough I couldn't stand up by this stage. I somehow left the table up on money. I had to ask someone the time as I had lost my watch during my dive into the Bellagio pond. When they told me it was midday I nearly fell off my stool. I had been drinking for 16 hrs, time for bed me thinks. By this stage I wouldn't class it as drinking, more like pouring it everywhere other than in my mouth. My white shirt had plenty of vodka and cranberry down it on inspection the next day. I will continue this tomorrow, i am feeling ill just thinking about that night, binge drinking at it's best/worst.

Handbags at nando's, how dare they?!!

I went for a nando's yesterday after work. Nando's is a little piece of heaven to me. Not to mention the fact that I get 20% discount for being a fireman, there is one perk to my job. Anyway, I had ordered up and was patiently but eagerly awaiting my glorious chicken. All of a sudden a big hulabaloo erupted. There were some city boys having a ruck with one another, well more like handbags at 5 paces. Pushing, shoving and a lot of big talking with not much action. The checkout guy, all 10 stone of him, managed to seperate the warring factions. The action, or lack of it was all taking place around the service area. This pissed me off as my food was due any moment. I endeared myself to them by shouting "come on fella's leave it out, I want my food and you lot are in the way!!" That's typical Ben, sling myself into the firing line instead of keeping my head down, it's not going to change.

The one lot left and my food was delivered, a little tepid but still gorgeous, I went outside and was dissapointed to see the group of lads on their phones calling down the back up. Get over it lads, life is too short. I wasn't about to hang around to see these idiots go at it.

Training is getting tough.

With the fight creeping closer and closer training has intensified dramatically over the last few weeks. The cardio sessions (extra training before the classes that fighters do) have gone from 2 x 5 min rnds to 3 x 5 min rnds as per the fight. Paul and Harry and Nick constantly dream up ways to make me want to vomit and it never gets any easier because they just make me work harder. I have been tired in the cage before and am not prepared for that to happen again, it's a lonely place to be and there is no way out! In terms of cardio I am bang on track and feel super fit, up until this week, sparring had been going well too and the body was holding up OK as well. It seems that this week the wheels have come off a bit. The cardio is still going great but the last 2 sessions my stand up has been poor and my grappling is hurting my back. I will have a little time to recouperate in Vegas next week but will still be training. A week of semi chilling then 5 weeks of mega hard work and I'll be ready.

I had to laugh today, I was sparring and got caught with a good shot to the head, the guy I was sparring pulled away and said "Fuck me! You've got a hard head!!" He hurt his hand on my head, that's funny. It happened the week before with someone else too, my head is my secret weapon, hit it too hard and you'll hurt your hand. Love it!!

A real days work, I wont be making a habit of it!

Tuesday I sacrificed my lie in and day off to help a mate out screeding a floor, that's the kind of guy I am!! I dragged myself out of my pit at 0650 and shuffled through the rain to be picked up for work. Now I consider myself a hard worker but the work I do is short and sharp. I wasn't fully prepared for a day mixing up, putting sand, water and cement into a mixer and creating the screed.

Fortunately by the time we had driven to essex to start work the rain had stopped and it wasn't a bad day. We had no time to waste as the floor had to be done that day and I needed to be in the gym for my beasting at 5.30. For 4 hrs straight I shovelled, mixed and wheel barrowed, my back was in agony, my hands soaked and wrinkly like and old persons and I was covered from head to toe in a layer of whitish brown dust. Every time I tried to wipe dust from my face I just wiped more in. Nightmare!! 

At around 2 o'clock my slave master of a pal went and got us some lunch, savloy and chips- proper grub. Then it was back to work asap, if I had stayed sitting down much longer there is no way I would have been able to start again. Just as we were finishing the heavens opened and I dragged my weary body back into the motor for the trek to the gym. 

Dave dropped me at the tube station and I happily boarded my train for bethnal green. I could feel myself dropping off and kept waking with a jolt and kneeing the person next to me, I just couldn't physically stay awake. All didn't bode well for cardio with Harry the bastard. Harry is a fantastic trainer but takes no prisoners, just what I need with the fight not too long away but not after a hard days graft. There was no way I wasn't going to get through it though. After 30 mins or so I was breathing out of my hoop and wanted to re introduce my savloy to the world. That was just the beginning though, 90 mins later and bruised and battered with a dead leg and a sore head, I hobbled out of the gym and onto the central line to get my tired arse the fuck home. I must have looked a right state, covered in dust and sweat, limping heavily and struggling for every pace. Finally I dragged myself through my door and collapsed onto the sofa, what a day. A hot bath, a glass of wine and a episode of prison break later I crawled into bed and was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

I am not one to shy away from hard work but rest assured it will not become a feature in my life if I can help it!!

I think i'm going soft

I did the unheard of on saturday, I gave money to a begger. I have always made it a rule that I wouldn't give money to these people. I have given them dog food or food in the past. I was queuing at the cashpoint and the begger was sat in between the 2 machines. One became free and I was about to use it when he told me that it wasn't working. I thanked him and queued for the other one again. He told me that people don't normally listen to him because of who he is, I was having a little chat with him and not once did he ask me for money. He seemed happy considering and I just felt he was a good guy. As I got my money out I reached into my pocket and gave him all the loose change I had, not much maybe £1.50. He took it and was grateful. I asked him not to spend it on beer and he got up and said he wasn't going to and that he was off to get something to eat. I hope he didn't buy super strength booze with my money but he probably did.

I remember an incident many years ago when I was in the Army. They had made a error in our pay and for the christmas month I was paid only £200. I was set for a shite christmas but went shopping with my bro to get some pressies. He gave £5 to a tramp, I was fuming. There was I, a soldier not long back from Northern Ireland and skint and now this tramp had more money than me!! From that day I vowed never to give them money. I have no qualms about giving money/clothes etc.. to charity but tramps are a no no. I hope I revert back to normality and stop giving them money but I can't guarantee it.

The country is on a knife edge.

I was horrified and shocked to learn that Ross Mason , a ukmma standout fighter and good guy, was stabbed outside a nightclub in birmingham on friday night. I don't know him personally but know that he is a nice fella and a top fighter. What is going on with the knife culture in this country? Every day someone is killed or seriously injured by knife crime. Ross is in critical condition but will be helped by the fact that he's as tough as they come and has a warrior spirit. It just goes to show that it doesn't matter how good a fighter you are in the gym or in the cage, it may even be a disadvantage, cos' when these cowards come for you they are going to come in numbers, armed to the teeth and intent on serious damage. They know they can't win in a fair contest so have to take it to the next level. The most worrying thing is that these people do not care about the consequences, they don't think past the act. This means there is a problem with the legal system, most are not scared of going to jail and know they will only serve minimal sentences, it has to change. The main point is it doesn't matter how tough you are, how skilled a fighter you are, there are too many arse holes out there who will stick a knife in you without a second thought. There are no winners in a street fight that's for sure.

My best wishes go to Ross and his family, keep fighting mate!!!

How's your Doanld Duck!!

I decided to take a week off from the fire brigade last week for 2 reasons- 1, to catch up on some sleep and have some chill time. 2, My watch is going through a lot of changes and it's a shit place to be right now. 

In theory it was a shit hot plan, in practice however, it just went to rat shit!! There are substantial building works going on in my road at the moment, I didn't think this would be a problem as once i'm shattered I can sleep like a good un'. It just so happens that last week, the one I decided to take off, they decided to do all the extra loud demolition work. On top of this the lovely old dear who resides in the gaff directly above me has decided to have her place done up, in the week I take off to chill. I was lying in my bed and the noise from the drilling and the demolition meant that I may as well have dragged a sleeping bag into the fucking main road, it may have been more peacefull there. I found myself wishing I was in work for some peace and quiet. Not only that but even trying to sit on the sofa and kick back it felt like someone was drilling a hole directly into my swede. 

The result of my week being, no lie in's and a waste of a weeks holiday. On the positive side I got a few extra training sessions in and feel fit, good news with the fight just 8 weeks away now. Lets hope I get some kip in vegas- Yeah right!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway I better go to bed, early start in the morning- For a change.

Backpaupers are born

More Oz antics............

27th-29th march

So, the 27th I left Adelaide with mixed emotions. Was looking forward to meeting up with the girls but was having a great time there with Bianca. Anyway got into Brisbane and spent the night in some shitty hostel with a bunch of backpackers, i prefer to call them back paupers because they are all pikey, smelly student types who talk bollox!! Shit room, shit sleep, shit (w)hole. Left there at sparrow's fart to catch the bus to byron bay. I was the only one on it, what a result. Met Kerry and Hollie, we are staying in a nice guest house but the birds(flying type) don't stop fucking squarking which makes sleep difficult.

Had 2 lovely days lying on the beach and messing about in the sea, it's roasting. Been running along the beach, like paradise! Had a meal indoors last night, backpauper stylie. The girls cooked carbonara and it was nice, had a couple of beers and got the peanut down.

Going to hit the town tonight for a meal and maybe a couple of cheeky beverages, who knows?! There's a wet T-shirt competiton on at cheeky monkeys, trying to convince the girls. managed to talk them into it, was pretty average although there were a couple of nice sets of bristols, nothing special. Cool bar but full of backpaupers and other pikeys. Only had a few beers, early start in the morning to leave for surfers.

30th march

An early start to catch the greyhound up the coast to surfers paradise. Good journey, 2 hrs, with a very charismatic driver who thought he was flying an airline, good commentary Brian.

Found our pad, it aint bad at all- even got an en suite. Dropped the cases and headed for the beach. Weather is OK but a bit windy, a lot windy!! Went swimming then was lying reading my book when some bastard, cunting seagull shat on me. Fucking vermin, not happy at all.

Back in the room figuring out a plan for tonight.....

Just in from a good night. Walked into town and looked in a few shops, had a pizza and then had a game of mini golf. I anihilated  the poor girls by at least 10 shots. We got some ice cream and wanderd down to the beach and had a couple of pints at the surf club, very home and away!! Napper down time, peace!!

Newquay part II

We were out and about, enjoying each others company and bonding. I have only ever been to Newquay when it's been high season and full to the rafters so it made a nice change to not have to fight to the bar every time. The shortage of women was brushed aside and the ample amount of alcohol helped smoothed the night over. We stumbled into another pub looking for some life and they had a bloody quiz on. Some of the boys fancied it and there were some hot barmaids so it was all good. Whilst the lads were concentrating on the quiz I was concentrating on the lovely barmaid who was looking after us so well. As it transpires I left with her number, happy days. We went to a couple of other bars but it was dead everywhere so I pulled the pin and decided to get an early one, i wanted to hit the surf in the morning plus i figured if i could get a head start on the snorers I may get some shut eye.

I was woken from my slumber at some ungodly hour by 2 of the lads having a snore off, it was like sleeping in a warus enclosure( I imagine). I gave both the offenders a kick and they seemed to stop, I struggled to get back to sleep though. I was up at 9 and went off to have some breakie with Dave and Chris, not before I made all the lads a cuppa- I'm good like that. I had to go to the surf hire place cos' I left one of the lads credit cards there and he was panicing. It was a blessing in disguise as the tide was out and the conditions for us learner surfers were perfect. I put the call in to the boys "surf's up dudes!!" Only a couple of the lazy fuckers turned up but it was a good mornings surf. That afternoon we all got some scoff and I had to go pack my stuff up as I was moving out of the snore palace and into a little room with ensuite facilities! Going soft in my old age. I may have had other motives too!! The others went off for another round of golf, knowing the champ wasn't about they all enjoyed it more.

That evening we RV'd once more in the bar for some vittles and a catch up. The tour had taken it's first casualty. Poor old Graeme had gone down with an extreme case of the Ertha Kitts, he couldn't be more than 2 secs from the bog. Fed and watered we headed into town to begin the boozing again. You can't tell me it isn't a small world, I was in the bar, turned around and there was Bacon. A friend of my brother's and a frequentor of Pancrase London from time to time. He was on his own so became an adopted fireman and the group was back up to 9 again. Anither crazy night ensued, loads of booze and joviality. We ended up in the club dancing the night away until 3am. I then made my way back to my hotel and had a great night there, I shall say no more.

The next morning I checked out of my room and met the boys at te surf hut, it was gloriously sunny and the surf was even better than the day before. Everyone was shattered but raring to have one last crack at riding the ocean wave. It was quite calm for periods then the sets would roll in which enabled us all to get out the back. It was hilarious trying to watch some of the boys sit on the boards let alone stand up!! By far the best of all the surfing so far though. After that it was back to the airport and reality. A great weekend was had by all, roll on next year's excursion.

Saying of the trip "I will treat you like a princess while we're out and fuck you like a whore once we're in!!" Classic.

Newquay Glorious Newquay

At about 3.30 am on a dark and dingy morning in London, 9 firemen were rising from their slumber.  It was the big one we had all been waiting all these years for. Yes, it was the Newquay trip we thought would never come. Shame the flight was at shit o'clock but it meant we got a full 3 days down the coast. We all rendezvous'd at the bar in Stanstead airport. The flight was pretty empty but spirits were high. We sat near to Connie Huq, the ex Blue Peter presenter. I didn't recognise her and thought she was a bit of a pig to be honest.

We checked into our accomodation and it was rubbish. 4 bunk beds in one small room, 1 shower, 1 shitter and 1 sink. 2 of the lads are notorious for snoring, no sleep for me then. We settled in and went for a stroll, got some breakie and went for a wander. Found a 9 hole pitch and putt course, let the games begin. I won my first round with the lowest overall score. We then matched up the 3 best golfers from each team for the play off. I won this too!! Although one of the blokes who was one of the worst in the first rnd beat my score, stewards enquiry me thinks.

After golf it was time to get to surfing"!" We found a spot and hired out our 10 ft styrafoam barges and proceeded into the water. It was high tide and the water was raging. After 5 mins 3 of us had got caught in a rip and were being dragged into a cave. We all shit ourselves and swam for all we were worth, in my panic I managed to boot Dave in the face, sorry mucker. We all survived and made it back to the beach. we surfed for a couple of hours but conditions were tough for us rookies, definately a job for low tide next time. That night we all went out to eat and then got on the hit and miss!! It was the off season so the bars were not all that busy and there was a dearth of women. we were having a ball nonetheless!! It was cool to spend some quality time outside of the stresses and strains of the workplace. 

Gotta go to work now, finish the rest tomorrow!!

I am a rich man!

I class my self as a very rich person, the ironic thing is I haven't got a lot of money. Work that one out. What makes me rich is the fact that I have the most amazing group of family and friends around me that all the money in the world could not buy. 

My family have stuck with me through thick and thin, I have never been the ideal son or brother to have ( understatement of the year award for that!) but they have always been there. When I have fucked up and need a shoulder to cry on, some moral support and TLC who do I turn to, my family. They have never judged me, thousands have, they have never turned their backs on me. The same goes for my close friends, they have helped me out no end, I try to reciprocate when I can but it's usually me being assisted. 

My point is, without wanting to sound like a visa advert, you can't buy that shit!!! You can have all the money in the world but that doesn't guarantee your happiness. You don't buy a solid group of people who care for you unconditionally, it just doesn't happen. So this is basically my way of saying thankyou to all those that have stuck with me when the going got tough. Most of them will probably never read this but it's down here in black and white and written with sincerity, I can never thankyou enough.

From focused to fucked!!

Here's the next installment of ' OZ antics', it's pretty self explanitary!

20th march: FINALS DAY. GOLD, GOLD, GOLD, GOLD, GOLD!

Some fucking idiots stood outside my room talking bollocks for 2hrs last night, in their stupid drooling accents. Then again at 6am this morning- ass holes. Anyway after 12 hrs of no food I weighed in @ 63.10 kgs this morning ( in the nude, bollocks cupped in hand). I wont have to weigh in again til' july so happy days no more fucking dieting.

Just fucking hurt my back shadow boxing in my room but nothing too bad so still gonna bash borat's face in tonight, gold medal here we come. Just hanging around at the mo, this is the worst time and I don't even have a team here so no one to talk to. LONELY!!

Fuck me!!!!!!!!! That guy was the best I have ever fought, no way he was a novice. Tough Kazaghstani mutha fucker. Bashed me up good!! However, fighting is still great. Got a silver medal and a monster hangover this morning.

PARTY TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

23RD MARCH

WOW! It's been an amazing (drunken) few days. Since I finished boxing all I have done is party!! My fucking head hurts soooooo bad. Been kicking around with the FDNY ( Fire dept new york) guys, they're fucking awesome lads. Everyone round here smiles all the time, really good atmosphere. Can't be arsed to write anymore got partying to do!!

25th march

It's official, I can't drink! Went to the boxing finals on friday then met Bianca and we went out for a while. She is a great chick. She left about 0330am and I carried on drinking all night and half the next day. Got in a fight with some local gang idiots, Choked one of them unconcious but his mate punched me in the face whilst I was doing it and broke my nose again!! I just don't know when to stop. I am a prick when I've had a booze.

Anyway went to the closing ceremony last night- it's been amazing. Don't think i'll be drinking anymore- going to see Bianca tonight- she is set to give me a tour. Gonna be weird round here now the games is over.

Contender Muay Thai

I was watching the reality series Contender: Muay Thai this evening and it really brought something home to me. The programme is about 16 fighters who are at the top of their sport. Some are proven world champs, others up and comers being given a big chance to make names for themselves. Basically, they all fight one another in a knockout format, reducing the numbers each week until there are only 2 left. These 2 fight in the final and the winner gets $150,000 USD. That is mega bucks in Thai boxing. Obviously there is a lot to fight for.

In this series there were 2 Thai's. That amount of money would secure their families and many more for the rest of their lives in Thailand. These guys are from a different world to the rest of the contenders and have grown up in extreme poverty. They are also the best. A couple of weeks ago, by pure misfortune, the 2 Thai's were drawn to fight each other. They had been best friends for many years and fought out of the same gym back home. It was hard watching them trying to come to terms with this, they had to fight. Only one of them could advance.  One of them ended up knockin the other one out. It was heartbreaking to see the victorious guy stood in his corner, not looking remotely pleased to be one step closer to a lifechanging sum of money, watching his best mate getting oxygen and coming to without a clue what had just happened to him.

The competitors all live in a house with one another and become very close. They spend 24 hrs a day together and have very little contact with anyone else. Expectedly they become friends, they know that to win they're going to have fight each other but try to put it to the back of their minds. This week 2 more close allies fought. The end result was a devastating knockout victory. The victor was in bits, his mate was out cold and in a bad way. He had to do what he did in order to progress but it was abundantly clear that he took no pleasure from it. It's a harsh reality but in fighting there will always be a winner and a loser, although in my opinion anyone who steps into the ring is a winner as it takes imense courage. You will only really understand this if you have done it. 

My main point is the way that these fighters showed each other the love and respect really got to me and made me glad I am part of this way of life. There are not many other sports where the winner, and in extremely emphatic fashion, looks like someone has ripped his heart out.He is worried about his friend and fellow warrior so much that his success is marred by his friends trauma, I find it humbling. So next time you here someone branding fighters barbaric and thugish,aim a shake of your head to the uneducated idiot making these sweeping generalisations.

Oz Adventures.

I have just found my diary from my trip to Oz last year, I was competing in the World Police and Firefighter Games. I will be posting snipets from across the 3 weeks, note the difference pre and post competition. In other words the sober and drunk times!! Excuse the grammar but it's copied as it was written at the time.

12th, 13th, 14th march.

This is a fucking long journey!!

Had a result on the plane. Had a spare seat and also met this ozzie geezer who lives 6 months of the year in Thailand. Made a good travelling companion and also he had valium!!

Got about 6 hrs kip, watched Rocky and employee of the month (Jessica Simpson is fit btw).

Singapore airport is cool. Loads to do. Had a massage and fucked about on t'internet (it's free). There are some pics and articles from the fight floating around. I've been thinking about it and am happy and pissed off. I dominated round 1. All the articles say this. Why the fuck did I gas sooooo bad? Unreal and fucking annoying. I really should have won it. Gotta work out what's going on stand-up wise too!! Why do I never use my stand-up? DUMB ASS!!!!  This boxing tourney will do me good cos' there's no takedowns, gotta trade hands. I AM bringing home a medal....

It's fucking 2315, flight leaves in 35mins, hopefully i'll get some kip. Everyone's staring at me, I keep forgetting I got a shiner. FUCK EM' anyway.

Heaven in a Hot Room

So, I walked into the room, it was sweltering. There weren't many people around. I went to get changed and re emerged. A couple of lovely ladies had appeared, scantily clad and glistening in the heat, I was going to enjoy this. I placed myself in the centre of the room and began to relax. To this point I was the only male, result. I was really early so got to watch all the clients arrive, I was getting excited. I'm glad Big Ron talked me into this. Big Ron arrived and joined me in the middle of the room. By now there are chicks of all shapes and sizes dotted about the room, in various stages of undress. Some are sporting bras only, others are, thankfully, T-shirted up. Finally the instructor arrives and it's time to begin, the room is packed with mostly women. I would say it's a 4 to 1 ratio, if not more. However, the scantily clad thing isn't always a blessing. Seeing Big Bertha in her thong bending over isn't what I dream about of a night time. On the other hand the bird to my front is lovely and wearing baggy but tiny shorts (more on this later) and a little vest. The chick to my left is stunning and wearing see through leggings and a thong, plus a white vest and black bra. I was concentrating by the way, just happened to notice these things. What can I say, I'm observant!

The class is actually really hard, not to mention hot. I was sweating buckets and hadn't done a lot. I haven't done much yoga but this was the hardest class so far. Not only was it hard physically, the added distraction of some lovely ladies wearing next to nothing and sweating away without a care in the world, made concentration difficult. I was rewarded for my perseverance towards the end of the session, we were lying on our fronts, pulling our heels towards our heads (don't ask). The aforementioned babe in front of me with the baggy shorts must have been slightly stronger on her right side. Her shorts moved centimetres to the right and gave me a grandstand view up her jack and danny. Being a gentleman I...........continued to make the most of the opportunity presented to me and stared into the abyss for all I was worth. Sorry mum!!

In summary, Bikram yoga gets my vote. It's a bit like a dreaming your in a fitness video, except occasionally you glance round, see Big Bertha working it, and realise it's reality. Can't wait til' tomorrows class though- A great workout and perving opportunity of a lifetime, where do I sign up!

What's Religion Ever Done For Me?

I feel a rant coming on. What is the point in religion? It does nothing but cause problems and create divides. If there is an all seeing all knowing super power up there in the sky, sat on a fucking cloud, Lording over us all, he/she/it needs to get with the fucking program.

Why do bad things always happen to good people and vice versa. Why was my friend, a good man who never hurt anyone and gave his time to attend church, help others, gave his money to charity, robbed from this planet and his family and friends. Why are the scum that did it free and living their scummy lives??? Why have many of my friends had miscarriages when they've done everything right, don't drink, don't smoke and keep exercising then the village slut walks down the road pushing her pram with 2 kids in tow, one in her swollen belly. A fag in one hand can of beer in the other- It's bollocks.

Why do people blow innocent folk to kingdom come in the name of their lord and believe they are doing his work? People stand in the streets and preach hate in his name, this great and good lord!!! The only religion that hasn't caused a war is buddism, what does that tell us? I have been christened and dragged through church, attended sunday school and the rest of the bollocks, I don't buy any of it. The sooner religion is banned(which it never will be) the better in my humble opinion. 

AMEN

Pot, Grot and 8 Smoking Gangsters.

As we walked down the urban decayed street in West London I felt decidedly uncomfortable. I am not familiar with the area and am happiest when in North or East London. At least it wasn't south of the river, then I would have not been happy! We reached a decaying door and buzzed the intercom, after a couple of minutes wait we were buzzed in, straight down a set of stairs, through a set of double doors and into a lounge room. Various gambling machines were scattered around and a big black man welcomed us, he had a strong carribbean accent and only half of one of his front teeth. A big scar ran down the right side of his face. Despite his appearance he was very warm and welcoming. Scanning round the room, it was a shithole. No smoking signs stained yellow by the nicotine, how ironic!! 

An woman dressed in a short skirt and tight black top asked us if we wanted drinks. She had obviously been a looker in her day but that day has been a long time ago. Her lips were the victims of bad bottox which gave her a constant look of confusion. We were still waiting for a few more people to arrive. I ordered a coffee, when Pussy Galore fetched it to me it had scum floating on top of it and looked less than appetising. I didn't want to upset our host and make a fuss so I took a sip and placed the cup somewhere out of my sight. Pussy Galore was loitering, she wanted her tip, she wasn't on a wage. I gave her a quid and she scuttled off. I was checking out the competition, a couple of old carribbean fella's and some familiar faces from other clubs, nothing I couldn't handle. A couple of the guys were smoking spliffs and the smell in the room was dominated by weed and fast food.

Finally we were seated, it seemed that everyone was smoking. A quick head count and of the 10 players 7 of them were smoking. 2 of these puffing on joints. The smoke hung in a haze above the table and in a matter of minutes my eyes were stinging and my lungs burning. It was not ideal but I needed to put it out of my head. I maintained my usual quiet, unassuming persona at the table and was progressing nicely if not quickly. After an hour or so I was up but not by much. Then I started to feel weird, my normal persona dissapeared and I had turned into the proverbial chatterbox, I had all these gangster types around me and I couldn't stop taking the piss. I was doing it in my usual cheeky way and was getting away with it. I won a reasonable pot against the host, his scarred face turned into a smile and he said " you fucked me didn't you" there was no animosity and I replied " I prefer to say made love rather than fucked, I made love to you! " I said it then regretted it. The table was silent and I waited for his reposte. He just burst out laughing, as did everyone else at the table. I had got away with it. I think all the second hand smoking had gone to my head, I was buzzing and had developed verbal diarrhoea.

It turned out to be a very successful night and an eye opener. I will not be going there again though. At 5am we decided to call it a day, My eyes were burning my head aching but I was well in the black and achieved my aim. Next time I play poker I am going to make sure it's a non smoking club, it's disgusting.

Organised Chaos.

I woke up and scratched my head, yawned and reached for my fags. Still smoking I stumbled to the bog, head pounding with every step. I reached the bathroom and realised I had breath like a shit smuggler's duffle coat. Time was of the essence so a quick brush of the teeth and a shower in a can, I threw on some shitty old clobber, no need for designer wear today. I grabbed a slice of bread on my way out the door.

I was already running late, I walked briskly through the streets, there was an air of anticipation around and nervous tension and excitement filled the town. I bumped into the boys at the pre arranged meeting place, a fearsome looking mob, tattooed, shaven headed, scarred faces a prerequisite. The ring leader, a tall, accented and extremely well muscled man was stood at the centre of a little group. He saw me arrive and gave me a tight smile and a nod. This was high regard but he knew I loved this shit and wouldn't let him down.

The front group moved off, the rest of the masses moving slowly behind. We numbered about 80 at this stage. The usually bustling streets deserted in anticipation, the population either with us or keeping a low profile. As we scurried through the town our numbers swelled. We passed waste land, rubble piled up in corners, shrapnel stacked in big dust bins. The group was getting vocal and the adrenaline was coursing through my veins, it wouldn't be long now. I just wanted to get involved, once the red mist descended, that's when I was in my element. No one ever paid me any heed from day to day but on these days I was up there with the best of em'. Just 18 and loving it.

We rounded the last corner and genuine hatred could be felt throughout the mob. All 100 or so of us were like blood thirsty animals. I say all but there were a few who loitered at the back to ensure a rapid get away in case it all went upside down. My alter ego was rising, I was at the front with the ringleaders, the men who had been around the block and were happy to have me stood shoulder to shoulder with them. 

The debris started flying in from the crowd, the troops were generally, unflinching but a few of the younger one's were shitting themselves. The fear in their faces made me sick, faggots, they had shields, body armour, helmets, batons and safety in numbers. I had a shit pair of jeans, trainers and t-shirt but on top of all that I had a heart for this shit and genuinely loved the violence. The troops moved forward in a green mass, we stayed firm at the front until the line was just in front of us, no more than a couple of metres away. I was on the verge of losing it, the fuckers were mouthing obsenities at us and giving it the big one from behind their shields. I couldn't take any more, I saw they guy in front of me look to his left and seized the moment. I charged up to the shield and kicked it, it split from the shield next to it creating a gap just big enough for me to throw a punch through. I connected but only on the helmet, hurting me more than the soldier who was frozen in shock. The adrenaline took care of any pain though. All around me our guys were attacking the soldiers. every so often the shields would part and blokes would charge out and try to grab us, they had smaller shields and swung their batons relentlessly. I was clipped by a baton but managed to turn and land a shot on the face of the silly soldier who had forgotten to pull his visor down, as he staggered back I kicked him in the shins. I love it!!!

The squaddies were pushing us back at this point and we were getting split up, I looked around and saw my mates were still with me, a nod from them told me that we were all good and ready for the main attack. When we got to the wasteland the debris flew thick and fast, petrol bombs were going in softening up the shields, a couple of soldiers' trousers were alight, I chuckled to myself at the sight of these fellas dancing a jig with flames licking up their legs until their mates could put them out. Just then a little squad came out of the line and charged straight at me, it was going off big time. I took 3 or 4 hits with batons and flipped, I grabbed the nearest soldier to me and threw him on the ground, he had a radio so I seized my oppourtunity and grabbed it off his jacket. These radios were security coded and like gold dust. He pleaded with me to give it back so I did, right around the mouth. After I smashed him with it I was able to use the groups shock to sprint away. I got back to the front line and started again on the big shields. A gap opened up and me and one of my good pals got in amoungst it. I was swinging punches in every direction, I looked to my right and my old mate punched straight through this soldier's visor, good shot. I had taken my eye off the ball. In the split second I forgot about my predicament the soldiers got the upper hand. I felt a searing pain in my ribs then a blow came to the side of my head. If I went down I was fucked so I used all my strength to stay on my feet. The blows were coming thick and fast and I was engulfed by a swarm of angry, combat clad men. I was in big trouble when I heard a whistle blast, then a strong pair of hands grabbed me and pulled me out of the chaos. 

It was a member of the directing staff for the exercise, he had been following me since the radio incident. Thank god, these blokes would have battered me. All in a days work as a pretend rioter for the troops going to Northern Ireland to do all this for real, getting paid to bash squaddies was a blast. Best job in the world, painful at times though.

Escape frome the Shoe Factory!!

Way back when, in 2001, I was serving with the British Army in Bosnia. We were stationed at an outpost in a place called The Shoe Factory, Mrkonjic Grad, in the north west of the country. It was like being in prison, we were all go out of our minds with boredom. Chuck in a crate of Stella Artois and christmas day and this is what you get.

It's christmas day in Bosnia and moral is low, me and my mate Mo are getting hammered in the shit hole we call a bar, in this shit hole we call the Shoe Factory and life is not a bed of roses. We are drinking bottle after bottle of Stella and becoming more and more fucked off. Mo's got a wife and 2 kids at home, I've been out of Army prison for less than 2 months and we are generally not having a good day. Put yourselves in our position. Stuck hundreds of miles away from those that love you on christmas day, surrounded by hairy arse blokes and living in metal containers, it's minus god knows what degrees outside. All the toilets are outside, you risk catching pnumonia going for a slash, there's a craze of shooting people with BB guns sweeping through the camp, BB gun pellets and cold skin are not a good combo. 

I said to Mo "Lets go into town?" 

"Don't be a dick, we aren't allowed and it's more than our jobs are worth!" he replies.

"I don't give a shit, who gives a fuck about this job, I've signed off anyway, fuck it!"

"fair one, why not, lets go"

We creep round to the back of camp and hear footsteps behind us, this jock reservist has overheard our plan and wants in. After a bit of deliberation we decide it's cool, the more the merrier. Our duo is now a happy trio. Mo goes first, trying to climb a fence of razor wire. This was funny, he got stuck on the wire and tore his arse to shreds. After seeing the trouble he had getting over me and jock decided we would just walk out the front gate. Our mates were on guard and we swore them to secrecy. So there we are, bowling into a Bosnian town on christmas day with a pocket ull of cash and a language barrier, what an adventure. The dangers were many, we could get caught by an army patrol and dragged back to camp for a bollocking and a spell in nick. We could be caught by a gang of Bosnians not happy with us gate crashing their festivities, dragged into an alley and if we were lucky, beaten to within an inch of our lives.Worse case scenario, beaten to death.

If it's not risky it's not fun. We get to a bar and it's heaving, no one is really paying any attention to us. Get to the bar and order three beers, the only 2 Bosnian words I know are PIVO and STOY, beer and stop. Getting loads of practice with pivo and haven't had to use stoy yet. The night is going great, everyone is being super cool and we are having a ball. The local police are all in the bar, in uniform carrying guns. These guy's all speak english and we are drinking away with them. It's getting really late and we decide it's time to head back to camp before we start to be missed. As we are walking home, pissed out of our heads I spot a little bar and we decide to have one for the road. As we walk in it goes quiet, we walk to the bar, too pissed to realise or care the vibe is not good. We get 3 pivo's and start chatting to a copper. A bosnian comes up to me and starts talking to me, I get the impression he's not wishing me happy christmas!! With my extensive command of the local lingo my options are limited, pivo or stoy? I go with pivo, he spits on the floor and pushes me. Oh no he didn't, he obviously doesn't know not to fuck with a British soldier full of Stella. I turn to the policeman and he shrugs and says "in this country we deal with our own problems!" This to me was a green light to chin this fool. I turned to face the offending native and smack him in the mush. He went down like a sack of shit, his mates weren't happy mind. Mo and Jock grab me and drag me out the bar, I wanted to stay and take em' all on. As we get into the street the door opens and  little mob appears. We leg it back towards camp and after a few hundred metres the mob give up the chase. We walk straight in to camp past the amazed guards, they are sworn to silence too. When we get back to our rooms Jock goes to bed, me and Mo share a room. As the door to our room shuts Mo turns around and punches me in the face. " your such a dick head, you could have got us killed" I apologised, we had a man hug and went to bed. A christmas not to be forgotten.

Ironically, the 2 guys who were on guard when we walked out of camp, decided to go out the next night and they got caught. Fortunately for us they kept quiet. It's one christmas That will be for ever with me. We were lucky we didn't get seriously hurt,or locked up by the army and the key thrown away. He who dares wins!!!

Manners Maketh Man(or woman)

It seems to me that society no longer values manners. It is so easy to say please, thankyou, sorry or excuse me. These simple words make people's days. I love seing the surprise on the faces of folk when I come out with an "after you" or a "Thankyou very much". It costs me absolutely nothing and brings a little happiness, even if it is momentary, into someones life. You may think this is an over statement but it's not. Most people these days are rude, aggressive and impolite. 

I was out with my bro, his girlfriend and some other friends on friday night. We were in a very busy bar, we had a good spot and were leaning against the bar. A stumpy Irish bird walked up to the group and wanted to get to the bar, had she said "excuse me, would you mind if I got through to the bar?" or something along those lines, we would of happily made way. Instead she walked up with a face like a kicked bag of sick and said " I hope your not just loitering at the bar and are actually buying drinks" Not a good way to get what you want from me, ask me nicely and i'll bend over backwards to help you. Talk to me like something stuck to the bottom of your shoe and i'll ignore you or do my best to be a pain in the arse. Low and behold she didn't get to the bar!!

At grass roots level, i.e with young kids, old fashioned values that made this country great have been forgotten. This is down to us as adults to instill into the kids, society isn't going to improve if the kids don't know about respect or manners. 

Say something nice to a stranger today and watch the reaction. 

'Carpe Diem'

Life is not a dress rehearsal, you only get one shot and I believe in making the most of it. I love life, I moan a lot but generally, if i'm moaning i'm happy. It's an old army saying that if the troops are moaning then they are happy, it's when it goes quiet that you should worry. It's very true with me too. If I am dead quiet then beware, normally I talk the hind legs of donkeys so stand by if you find me moping in silence!!! It's the quiet one's you've got to watch.

My mind set changed a few years ago when a friend of mine was murdered aged 24. He was one of life's good guys and was stolen by life's bad guys. They are probably all out of prison now and cracking on with their lives, there is no justice in that. I was sitting in the church and looked around to see 60 or 70 tough, rugged, soldiers crying unashamedly. I was one of them. It was at that point I vowed to myself I would not let any parts of life slip me by. I had already wasted the best part of a year of my life in the 'Glasshouse' and that's when 'Carpe Diem' sprang to mind. It's definitely better to regret something you did, rather than regretting not doing something. Sure, I have done some crazy shit but if I die tomorrow I know I will have been true to my beliefs and lived to the maximum. I am definitely a risk taker and this amazes some people, it's makes perfect sense to me though, what have I got to lose. 

I am a firm believer in trying to live a healthy lifestyle, I train pretty much everyday of the week and try to watch what I eat, not to the point where I have to count every calorie though. This doesn't stop me going out on a weekend and filling myself up with alcohol. I have had phases of sobriety and quite frankly it's boring. You hear of these folk who have been T- Total all their lives, train every day, count every calorie then drop down dead at the age of 30. Then you have your chain smoking, liver bashing alcoholic who lives to a ripe old age. Who had more fun?!!! Obviously there has to be a balance but I am all for the work hard, play harder mantra. Would love to stay and write more but I have some living to do!!!

A Little After Thought.

I was just thinking about an incident that occured last year as I was cycling home from the gym, it's quite relevant in relation to my last post. 

I was cycling back from the gym, was in my tracksuit and knackered! My cycle route means that to save crossing the main road I cycle along the pavement for 50m to get to my house. So I get to the pavement section and slow down, I am aware I shouldn't be cycling on the pavement, I slow down and am basically rolling down the slight decline towards my garden. A big guy in a suit is walking towards me shaking his head, I move to the side to let him by and he jumps in front of my bike and grabs the handle bars. (if I am going slow enough for him to do this then I am hardly a danger to anybody) HE screams at me, right in my face " This is a fucking pavement you idiot" Now a coupleof years ago I wouldn't have thought twice, I would have jumped off my bike and knocked his fucking teeth out. Having grown up, I thought I would try to explain myself to this prick. Calmly I was explaining I lived about 20m away and was going slowly and giving way to pedestrians. Now at this point a crowd is building. I know for a fact this big guy wouldn't have been as brave if I was a big lad, but I am used to this. Again he started to shout at me, causing a massive scene. I was getting a bit pissed off but maintaining the moral high ground, he was the one swearing and shouting, being confrontational and bullying. I asked him politely to move out of my way as I didn't have much patience left. Then he came out with a statement that had me spitting feathers and proved what a knob he was. " It's dickheads like you" There was an end to this sentence but I didn't hear it. I lost my rag in a big way, but managed not to chin this motherfucker, kudos to myself for this. I said " What the fuck is a dickhead like me? A unemployed, dole bludging thug?" He had no answer. I continued " Or a bloke thats been to war for pricks like you and who could possibly pull your fat arse out of a fire if you were in trouble, now get out my way DICKHEAD!" At which point he walked off muttering and shaking his head.

I could have probably dealt with this situation better, I could definately have dealt with it worse!! I ended up justifying myself to this prick, why? I should have just ignored him. The point is, he saw a small bloke in a tracksuit, was probably having a bad day and decided I was a good candidate to feel his wrath. I hate stereotypes!!

Stinking Stereotypes

If I had a pound for everytime I heard the words "You don't look like a fireman" I'd be a very rich man. My retort is always the same "What does a fireman look like?" This is usually answered with silence, confused looks and stammering. If only people realised that half the sterotypical looking fireman are lazy and out of shape then maybe they would be a bit slower to come out with their nonsense. It really isn't that difficult just to have a little think about what we say before we say it but I would put money on it that most of us are guilty of this woefull habit. I'm conciously trying to slow down a bit and think before I speak, I am a past master of sticking the proverbial shoe in the mouth. Just a bit of food for thought.

I am probably guilty of bringing myself into a position to be sterotyped, after all it was my choice to have tattoo's and to be who I am and act the way I do. Having tattoo's and an accent a lot of folk automatically assume I am not the sharpest tool in the box. In all honesty this suits me, I love to be underestimated. I have had many a heated debate in bars and other places, with those who started trying to be clever thinking they would out clever me. As well as physical sparring, there's nothing I like more than a Verbal spar. If I am losing the verbal battle then I can always revert to stereotype and knock them the fuck out!!

My point is simply ' Don't judge a book by it's cover!!' this old adage rings very true to me. I am officially going to redouble my efforts to practice what I preach from this day forth. 

Modern day Robin Hood

Today I was workinf for British Military Fitness, helping them run a team building day for a TV company (television as opposed to transvestite!!). It was out in the beautiful Surrey countryside. Why is it when I'm going to be in the outdoors all day it rains? I know, 'if it aint rainin' it aint trainin!' After an early start and some horrendous traffic we made it to the venue. A greasy bacon sarnie and a coffee then I was dropped off in a field, set my event up and kicked back and waited for the first group to arrive. The idea was that for the successful completiton of the task the teams were to be rewarded with a currency, the team with the most dosh at the end of the day won- simple. My challenge was challenging, believe it or not, so I wasn't giving out much dosh. I had loads of fun getting the not so talented teams to grovel, on bended knee, kissing my feet. The power trip was awesome, all for fake money. If only it was that easy in the real world.

We had a BBQ lunch and then it was back out to the activities for the afternoon. This is when it started hotting up, I was getting hugs and kisses for my fake money but the piece de resistance came when the last team were trundling through as I was packing up. As they came running down the hill two of the young ladies in the team flashed their breasts at me. I couldn't believe my eyes, but held firm and refused to be bribed so cheaply. I was playing hardball, in more ways than one!! The girls in the team lined up in front of me and gave me a breastican wave, basically one by one they pulled there tops up to reveal their puppies, mamma mia!! Thankyou for the mamories ladies. It's a tough old life getting paid a handsome sum to have ladies flashing, hugging and kissing you all day, I feel like a whore!!

Before all the teams arrived we had some time so we had a go at some archery. I must say I was a bit of a modern day robin hood, I like all that stealing form the rich lark but the giving to the poor bit.......... I say fuck em', they should get a job! Charity begins at home!!

It's not the size of the dog in the fight, It's the size of the fight in the dog!!!

Today after nights I went to the gym to box with a mate from work. After a little warm up and some pads it was time to don the gloves, insert gumshields, touch gloves and get it on. A bit of back ground, Big Ron is todays sparring partner. Believe it or not he is called 'Big' Ron cos' he's a lump. In stark contrast I am not, but what I lack in size I make up for in stupidness. I must be giving away almost 25kg's in weight to the ronster. It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog. Unfortunately, as the little guy, this is often the case so it's not unusual for me to be outweighed. I was dreading feeling the first shot connect, it's always Ok after the first one. For 2 rnds I ducked and dived, bobbed and weaved- technical terms for 'ran away'. We were both getting pissed off and in the 3rd round I could take it no more, I bit down on my gumshield, tucked my chin into my chest and entered the danger zone. BAM, fuck me! It still fucking hurts. Then I'm back in the game and landing some shots of my own. We got through about 8 rounds in total and it was awesome, there's nothing quite like standing toe to toe with another man and duking it out. We had a man hug and the end and went to get some lunch, all tired smiles. Looking forward to the next bout.

I had a driving lesson in the afternoon. I know it's pathetic, 28 years old and can't drive but hey ho!! Got a bit of a gripe. I'm driving along in a car emblazoned with learner stickers and with a big sign on the roof, what does this say to you? How about, have a bit of patience I am pretty crap at driving? Or, Stay back I am over cautious and a bit unsure? Not in London, I stall at the lights, bad show I know. Do you think tooting your horn continuosly will aid the situation, methinks not!! My driving instructor had to pull me back in the motor cos' I was half way out ready to give the dumb ass mini cab driver a piece of my mind. God help us all when I get on the road on my own!!

Happy slapping rickshaw ravers!!!

I have been too close to violent London for comfort this week and the situation is out of control. The first instance took place on the tube as I was on my way to the gym on tuesday night. As I was leaving the tube I heard "don't push me you c**t!!" shouted in a well to do london accent. I turned around and saw a middle aged business man push another hard in the chest. Both of them were weilding briefcases, not the weapon of choice in london these days I hasten to add. I put myself in breifcase swinging range and told these 2 'respectable' white collar workers to "stop acing like kids, is it really worth it?" It seemed to work and I made my merry way but I was no more than fifty paces when I heard a commotion, I couldn't be bothered to return and just let them crack on. 

Then saturday night I found myself being in a position I had been dreading for a while now. I was out having a bit of a drink with a couple of mates and we were trying to hail a cab. I was tipsy but by no means hammered.A rickshaw came whizzing by with 3 young lads sporting hoodies in the back. As it passed me a hand came out from the back and I was slapped in the face, it wasn't hard but it pissed me off. I began to give chase, much to the amusement of the passengers of the rickshaw. Why is it that when I have to ru n aon a night out I am always wearing my timberland boots, heavy and cumbersome. I had to give up chase after 20m or so as there was no chance I was catching these idiots. In a way this was a blessing in disguise, there were 2 possible outcomes in my mind. 1, I catch the culprit and beat him to within an inch of his life, get arrested, lose my good job and all for what- a little tap in the face. 2. I catch the culprit, him and his mates jump off stab me numerous times and I lose more than my job!!! It's the way London is at the moment and it's no wonder the kids are running riot with knives and guns. They can't lose. They get bashed up then they sue you, or they stab you and their reputation in their gang goes through the roof. The working class, law abiding citizen is fucked, his hands are tied.

I look back now on this incident and chuckle to myself, it's actually pretty funny. Let's see what his week has instore!!! Never a dull moment in my life.