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.