Freshly Spilled Thoughts

If you believe in something that matters you should pursue it to the edge of your own sanity, undeterred at the odds weighing against you.

Your own belief is what will get you across the finishing line. If you fail then you can always say you gave it your best shot. No regrets.

Growing up I would never have classed myself as a fan of The Stranglers. Not that I disliked them, but I spent half my time listening to Guns ‘N’ Roses (I know the Appetite for Destruction album pretty much word for word). I used to do a paper round every morning before I started school and I’d always be listening to Guns ‘N’ Roses on my walkman.

True/funny story – I had this album blaring out through my stereo at home with the windows open once. This bloke delivering door to door heard the music and I could see him really rocking away to it all as he walked down the road. The next time he was delivering I was playing a dance type track by David Bowie.

This same guy looked up at the window looking really agitated, then walked off, continuing with what he was doing. When I went downstairs there was a hand written note delivered through the letterbox which read: “Guns N Roses was better!!”

Anyway, back to the Stranglers…

The big hits I like of course, including Peaches, Golden Brown and this one originally recorded by the Kinks…

This popped up in my social media feed earlier. Apparently it’s ‘workout motivation’.

When I started training, workout motivation was people saying things like, “Just 2 more reps” and “You’ve got this Dean”

Now apparently it’s a woman with her tits out holding a dumbbell, wearing clothing more suited to a fetish convention.

I could write 1000 words here but it’s not going to compete with the visual appeal of the above. It’s still a joke that they label this as any kind of workout motivation.

Imagine someone who has never joined a gym before, signing up expecting that. ha ha.

I’ve always been a big fan of Yootha Joyce, she often played the part of a really strong woman who would take no sh*t.

So sad that she fell victim to alcoholism at a relatively young age.

Always remember her in George & Mildred and thought she was a tour de force as a sitcom actress.

Have you ever heard this song where a bloke sings about seeing someone in a bar (presumably some kind of stalker) and it’s nice to see their face, but they are there for someone else and they are hope they are doing well. It was on the radio tonight as I was driving home in the rain.

Load of bollocks if you ask me. Nobody would bang on about hoping someone else is doing well while they are waiting for someone else. They’d be saying, “I can’t talk now because the person I’m meeting in is coming in shortly and they will kick off, so I don’t fancy a shit storm at 9pm this evening. Oh yeah, I also hope you’re doing well and everything ’cause it sells more singles“.

Do people actually buy songs? They must do and this it…

Just after legs, the second hardest body part to train is back. It’s just such a large muscle group.

Today I smashed a 20 minute run
Then I trained back and did body squats in between.
Nearest thing to torture you can do with air conditioning on.

A fair few people putting in the hard yards tonight. Maximum respect from me because it’s much easier to be sitting on the sofa on nights like this. I got a a compliment on my arms tonight – it was off a bloke but I will take it.

He said, “Can I just say you’ve got the most amazing arms”. So that was nice…

I came outside at 10:45pm and it was absolutely slashing it down outside.

Look at this for a view:

I don’t take my phone on the gym floor, so there aren’t many pics of me in there.

But there is this one. Good times with the gym brotherhood (we had some fun)…

I have started a new fitness mission. I sort of already had it but this is where it’s going to go into high gear.

I always start with running. Just lately every time I have ended up on the treadmill this Japanese guy appears next to me.

It’s not like Donnie Darko where you imagine someone. He’s actually real and everything. He’s pretty good at running so I always imagine him eating healthy Sushi, not that I want to stereotype someone from Japan or anything.

After that I do an hours weights, so the whole thing takes 1 hour and 20 minutes start to finish and today I am really looking forward to it.

I’m thinking about getting the Rocky soundtrack just to listen to Eye of The Tiger because at the moment my playlist seems to be mainly rap music. I randomly have a Rod Stewart song on there so you get Ice Cube followed by cheer up maggie I’ve got something to say to you, which doesn’t really go does it.

I have one Ice Cube song that has a lyric which goes, “You can do it if you put your back into it” and “why are we going in when there’s bitches in line”, which makes me feel more like I’m in a nightclub than a gym.

Time to change the playlist.

On Facebook you always get one that writes overbearing/personal things in the comments section instead of sending you a DM or an actual text message (or something)

Family members are the worst.

On the next social media profile I set up I’m not going to add anyone I know in real life. Certainly nobody who makes me nervous about what they are going to write in the comments. lol.

I preferred the internet when it was filled with wonderful strangers I could converse with, that didn’t connect you up with people you may know. You don’t need social media for people you see in real life anyway do you.

It’s absolutely bonkers and it gets worse when you’re with someone when they get jealous just because another woman has made a comment on something you’ve posted.

While I’m on the subject, here’s another tip. If you want to achieve anything and don’t want judgement passed on you, don’t add anyone you know to that ‘thing’. The more you can operate in a liberated and free way, the better.

They should ban jealousy and marmite.

Here’s a picture of me just before I was about to have a football kick around in the garden with my nephew…

Love is a funny thing. It’s a bit like playing cards.

You can show your hand and go all in but it doesn’t mean you are going to win the game.

You can’t go into it expecting to lose either, so you take your seat at the table.

The cards get dealt and you have to play with the hand you’re given.

Will you win? Who knows.

When it doesn’t work out at the table, you have no choice but to walk away, but you always wonder to yourself what you could have done to turn that losing hand into a winning one.

As ABBA once said, “The Winner Takes It All”

The big question then is will there ever be a card game in your life again that you wanted to win as much as that one.

Life is a bunch of sliding doors and you only get so many chances.

That’s my thought of the day.

Don’t you cry for me
‘Cause I come from Alabama with a B-A-N-J-O on my knee

The Great Family Dance Off:

Me Being Silly On A Keyboard A While Back

I do amuse myself at times, Zippy…

I hate it when I inexplicably cannot remember someone’s surname.

I knew it.

It was there.

Now it’s gone… and it won’t come back. Like a shit boomerang.

So you’re left with a name that could be anyone, which you can’t do anything with.

Dave who?

Jackie who?

It’s no good to man, nor beast.

So you sit there saying their first name over and over hoping some neuron that has been drenched in alcohol is going to start firing again.

“I would help you but you drank beer and rendered me useless.”

There should be a spell or incantation which you can do that summons up a forgotten surname.

Why haven’t they invented this?

Side Note: Isn’t it brilliant, though, that when you’re doing something relaxing like chopping bananas, the name magically appears in your head again. It’s a wonder of nature. The relaxation response is actually a thing, which is why I used to get my best ideas in the shower.

I’ll tell you something else I hate…

When they make you change a password you’ve committed to muscle memory.

The password becomes like an old friend and then one day when you login you get this message:

“You haven’t updated your password for 180 days. You need to change it now in order to login”

I know I’m nit-picking, but nobody is going to guess Wagagoo743££”!!**54D^& are they?

Would you have guessed it? No. Don’t make me change it then.

(that particular password never actually existed it was merely a vehicle for elaboration)

Ah, the old coffee date gag (chortle)…

The legend that is John Reese once did a podcast called “The Wacky Mind of John Reese”.

Don’t bother looking for it, he pulled it off every podcast site for some reason.

This blog should be called, “The Wacky Mind of Dean”

I quite like the fact that John sort of disappeared before he was past his sell by date and as far as this blog is concerned, I intend on doing the same thing at some point.

Except I won’t pull everything when I stop posting – I’ll leave everything I have ever written on here as a repository of sorts.

For now I’m quite happy to let the good times roll as writing on here helps sharpen my brain for other things.

It is true what they say, writing is quite cathartic. I don’t quite understand why, but for some reason it just is.

Kenneth Williams had a diary where he basically slagged off most celebrities he ever encountered (lol).

My main purpose on writing here is a place that is an outlet without any commercial intent.

The same thing you’d get if you plonked yourself down in front of me with a drink and packet of nuts.

The only difference is that on here it’s more of a monologue (can’t be helped).

I suspect over the next few weeks things are going to get busy at this end, so I’m not sure how often I’ll be able to post, but I should be able to set aside the odd 20 minutes here and there to unleash an assembly of words onto the internet.

If this didn’t exist I’m not sure I’d write any kind of journal. Maybe I should. I quite admire people who do that and keep it private.

Sunday is here.

Soon it will be Monday and it won’t be long before people are scraping ice off their car windscreens in the morning.

But we don’t want to talk about that right now.

After all it’s Sunday and the weekend is hanging on by its fingernails.

There is still time to indulge in what remains of it, before the 2 day interlude from the mundane becomes a blur in the rear view mirror.

On Monday people will say predictable stuff to you like, “Did you have a good weekend?” (it’s up there with asking a taxi driver if they’re busy or what time they finish).

You can say, “Yes. It was good thanks. The numbers didn’t come up and there was no call from Camelot. Now excuse me for an hour, I’d like to be antisocial until the caffeine kicks in, if you please.”

(Of course, if you’re already retired none of this applies. You’ve won. Collect £200 and do not go straight to jail)

While we’re all waiting for 6 numbers to appear…

Let’s indulge in the whimsical and imagine for a minute that God worked in a bookstore. What if you could pop in and have a chat with him/her/the omnipresent one.

I talk about it here:

When God Lived In Kentish Town

There’s this bloke who I would put at near savant level (maths genius) who was asked about marriage/significant others and he replied:

“I have zero interest in that kind of stuff”

The guy interviewing him asked, “Why’s that?”

He replied, “So many things. It’s a 4 digit negative for just getting married.” (that did make me laugh)

I’ve heard some things in my time about marriage but someone saying it’s a 4 digit negative tops them all

When pressed further on this he said:

“It’s so far into negative territory that it almost rivals robbing banks.”

Ha ha… he said it so seriously as well. Stone cold.

I wonder what Bonnie and Clyde would have had to say in response to that.