When I was little my mum would give me sixpence for going to the shop to buy her fags. I would become so engrossed in choosing sweets from the long line of jars behind Jack Wilson’s counter that I would lose all track of time. The jars were filled with brightly shining jewels in myriad colours, and sixpence, spent carefully, could garner a whole quarter of pick and mix. Sometimes I spent so long looking that my mum, desperate for her snout, dispatched my older brother to find me and drag me home. I think I might have wet myself occasionally when the excitement got too much…
Gosh! I’ve been rushing around like a fly with a blue bottom for the past couple of weeks or so helping organise stuff for the various UNFEST events I mentioned in my last blog. This has mostly involved buying a huge number of A4 “certificate” frames from a well known budget retail outlet and designing/ printing / laminating an equally impressive number of arty postcards (not that sort of “art” postcard, you filthy-minded buggers!) in a variety of sizes and finishes, but alongside that I’ve also been writing all sorts of rubbish to put on said postcards. Oh, and I made a big letterbox out of cardboard and covered it in duct tape too. Blimey, it’s an exciting life, isn’t it? Continue reading “Wordy Rappinghood…”
Blimey, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? As those who very kindly opted to receive update notifications will know I’ve become somewhat lax as far as blogging goes. I would love to say this is because I’ve got caught up in a whirlpool of exciting and lucrative-but-time-consuming ventures that have kept me far too occupied to post, but of course I would be lying. I’ve just been busy doing nothing (well, next to nothing), and as far as my financial situation goes I’m just as skint as I’ve always been. Gold-diggers be warned – seduce me by all means, but as far as payouts go fish and chips and the odd pint of bitter is about as far as my wallet will stretch.
Anyhoo, a blog saying ‘I’ve done bugger all since Christmas’ is probably even worse than no blog at all, so here are a few bits and pieces I’ve done / am doing that justify the parenthesis (that’s “brackets” for those standing in the corner with pointy hats on) in the above paragraph. Continue reading “How long?!”
As regular readers will know, I can be quite vocal about people doing things they enjoy doing recreationally and/or for personal satisfaction and claiming they’re doing it for charity. I wrote a blog about it, in fact, which you can, if the fancy takes you, read HERE.
So, let’s be clear, then: I am NOT running for charity on October 4th I am running for pleasure, and I would almost certainly have been running for pleasure on that date even if The Bridge Trust hadn’t been looking for people to run and raise money on their behalf.
That said, I probably wouldn’t be running a half marathon, and would probably elect to postpone my run should it be hissing down – an option not now available to me other than for the most severe meteorological anomaly prompting the cancellation of the entire event. And possibly an immediate and drama-filled evacuation of the area. So either way you will get your money’s worth.
The Bridge Trust, BTW, is a charity that helps homeless people in Kent, and both myself and my pet Pingwing, Pip, support them as much and as often as our very meagre bank accounts will allow. If you bothered clicking that blog link I included above you will have seen that the treatment meted out to the homeless in Kent prompted that particular
rant post too – so my endorsement of The Bridge Trust is not a casual one.
Anyhoo… It would be really REALLY lovely if you were to support me in my hypocrisy (remember, every pound you give is another ounce of powder in the petard I’ve chosen to hoist myself by!) by making a donation on my Just Giving page. I will be running the course anyway, and enjoying it in that perverse sort of way that runners enjoy knackering themselves out for pleasure, but if other people can benefit from that I’m more than happy to oblige them. Thank you for your (and I’m jumping the gun a bit here, I know) generosity, you lovely lovely people.
* I don’t like to tempt fate…
A few weeks ago I blogged about running the Tonbridge Half Marathon and the huge sense of achievement my new ‘hobby’ has given me. What’s that old saying about tempting the devil…?
After running the half I was a bit worried when waking on Monday morning to find my legs had been replaced with those of a (post crash) Douglas Bader. I hobbled stiff-legged down the stairs, fell into a chair and ordered my son to bring me a cup of tea.
‘I wonder if I’m meant to feel like this?’ I said.
‘Get your own tea,’ the lazy little git replied, realising I was in no fit state to catch him. Continue reading “I Am (R)undone…”