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September 30 Claims to fame...One thing that I always find entertaining is when I meet people who have a good 'claim to fame' - and some of my friends have some absolute belters.
For instance, I know a number of people are related to famous folk.
There's SuperKev who's a distant relative of The Verve's Richard Ashcroft.
And then there's Andrew 'The Lothario' Best, whose cousin was the singer in 80s one-hit wonders The Cutting Crew - the band responsible for the supremely cheesy 'I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight'.
Actually, The Lothario has a couple of claims to fame - because he also went to school with a lad called Ed, who played the part of the boy who could turn into a dog in the legendary 80s children's TV series 'Woof'!
I'd always thought though that the greatest claim to fame among my circle of friends was that of one of the lads I play football with - the fact that he's related to the darts commentator Sid Waddell!
Let's face it, it doesn't get much better than that!
Or so I thought - for last night, I discovered out of the blue that another friend of mine has a claim to fame that blows all of the above out of the water.
Enter Steve Best!
Now Steve is a chap I've known for the past couple of years, since he started going out with my mate Susan... who I've known since my college days.
I always knew Steve was into his footy - however, I was literally gobsmacked when I saw him last night, and he casually revealed that he once played in the first round proper of the greatest competition on earth... yes, the FA Cup!
It all happened some years ago, when Steve was reserve team goalkeeper for non-league outfit Crawley Town.
In an almost Roy of the Rovers fashion, he was called up to the first team when the first-choice keeper got injured - and it just so happened that the next game was in the first round of the FA Cup... against league opposition.
So, it was Steve's job to keep the goalscoring might of Stockport County at bay!
And did he succeed?
Well, not quite - Crawley ended up getting hammered 9-1!
But fuck it - that's immaterial as far as I'm concerned.
The fact is, Steve can say that he's played in the FA Cup!
It ceftainly beats my own personal claim to fame - the fact that I appeared as an extra in a video for a pop song.
Granted, this could have ended up being quite a cool claim to fame. After all, I could have ended up being as iconic as the actress that played the blind girl in the video for 'Hello' by Lionel Richie'.
It it was though, 'You Make No Bones', the 2001 single by Mancunian folk-pop band Alfie, only managed to limp to about number 70 in the charts... meaning that my starring role as a bongo-playing chef probaly never got shown on TV!*
If any of you who are reading this have any cool claims to fame though that I haven't heard about, feel free to 'out' yourselves..!
September 28 A very funny film that's well worth checking out...Though I'm not a massive film buff, there's a film that's being released at British cinemas this weekend that I'd strongly urge you all to go and check out.
The film is called 'Kenny'. And you may not have heard of it... as it's not being backed by any massive marketing campaigns or anything. However, it's one of the funniest flicks I've seen in ages. I actually saw 'Kenny' some six or seven months ago, as it's an Australian film - and it was kicking up quite a stink during the two months I spent travelling through the land of kangaroos in early 2007. And when I say 'kicking up a stink', I mean it literally - because 'Kenny' is actually a spoof documentary that follows the life of a bloke who has the rather unenviable job of cleaning portaloos! Needless to say, the film is packed with toilet humour that all of us Brits will be able to identify with... I'll say no more - but seriously, go and check it out! September 26 Thoughts on my first few weeks as a trainee teacher!Well, the last few weeks have seen me finally get started in my mission to get qualified as a primary school teacher. And I'm pleased to report that it's been an incredibly enjoyable experience so far!
For the benefit of anyone who I haven't bored yet with these details, I'm doing my training with Nottingham Trent University, having successfully bagged a place on their one-year Graduate Teacher Programme.
This is basically a work-based training scheme, where for the whole year you spend pretty much all your time in an actual school - and learn 'on the job' the many and varied skills required to gain qualified teacher status.
The school where I've been placed is a primary close to Nottingham city centre.
With around 500 children in total it's quite a large school - and I'll be spending the majority of the year with a class of year three children... which is basically seven and eight-year-olds.
Needless to say, I haven't been entrusted with the responsibility of looking after the class all by myself!
I mean, can you imagine?!
It'd be like Jack Black in 'School of Rock'!
In actual fact, I'll be spending the whole year working alongside an experienced teacher, who at present is calling pretty much all of the shots.
As of yet, all I've really been doing is just observing... and doing odd bits of work here and there with small groups of children.
However, the idea is that I gradually take on more and more responsibility as the months progress - and ultimately, by June 2008, end up doing 80% of the teaching!
As I said, it's been a case of 'so far so good' - though I must say, I was incredibly nervous in the run-up to my first day!
I think this was mainly because I'd been waiting for so long to get started. After all, it was way back in October 2006 when I applied for a place on the Graduate Teacher Programme... then December 2006 when I went into the university for my interview... and then January 2007 when I got conformation that I'd successfully bagged a place.
Happily though, my new colleagues at the school have been brilliant from day one in making me feel welcome. I had expected the first few weeks to be utterly bewildering - but it hasn't been like that at all.
More than anything, it's simply been a lot of fun!
While some of them can be little shitbags at times, the children are generally fantastic to be around, and constantly come out with entertaining comments - though often without actually meaning to be entertaining!
And while their are certain parts the National Curriculum that don't fill me with quite as much excitement as others, one great thing about working in a primary school is the sheer variety of subjects.
As someone coming from a previous career that was centred around writing, I've found myself particularly enjoying literacy lessons. One particularly great moment was getting the opportunity to hear children read from 'Flat Stanley' by Jeff Brown - which was one of my very favourtite books when I was at primary school myself!
P.E. is also very random and entertaining, though it was a sad moment when the reality dawned that I'd have to go out and buy a pair of tracksuit bottoms - thus relinquishing my previous proud status as having never owned a pair of the wretched things during adulthood.
Apart from a really grotty cheap pair that I bought once for a chav-theme fancy-dress party!
Some consolation for this though came when I was officially presented with my very own teacher's whistle - an 'Acme Thunderer',no less. Needless to say, it was one of those moments when you feel like you've well and truly arrived!
All in all, I've been so immersed in the whole teaching thing that I feel already like I can barely remember what life was like befotre I started the course. It's certainly great to feel once again like I have a sense of purpose in life.
To complement my experience in the school meanwhile, I also have to go into the university for lectures one day in every fortnight, along with the other 30 or so people doing the same programme.
As a group, we won't reallly be seeing a great deal of each other over the year, as we've all been placed in different schools. They're a good bunch though - and there was a great moment on first day at the university when we were given a rousing welcome by the Dean of the university.
"Be under no illusions," she said, or words to that effect. "You're all here because we decided you're the best." Honestly, it felt like being in Top Gun or something!
So overall, I'm feeling very positive about what I hope will be a very rewarding new career. However, I'm not under any illusions. Unlike my previous days as a student when I spent 90% of my time either sleeping or getting drunk, the months ahead are going to be incredibly hard work.
Indeed, whilst I sailed through the first couple of weeks - probably on pure adrenaline from the excitement of it all - I'm now starting to find that the long days in school leave me feeling incredibly drained.
This has not helped by the fact that I've been full of cold for pretty much the last week - my immume system still to adjust to the fact that I now work in an environment where I'm constantly surrounded by snotty kids.
Still, the fact that there's a lot of hard graft ahead is fair enough. I mean, teaching is an incredibly important job as far as I'm concerned - so there'd be something wrong really if it was a doddle to qualify.
Needless to say, I'm going to have to make a lot of sacrifices over the coming months in order to give the Graduate Teacher Programmel the level of commitment required.
For one, whereas I was enjoying the luxury of two or three games of five-a-side football per week before I started the programme, the fact that I'm now required to work well into the evening most days means I'll probably only be getting two or three games a month from now on.
And that's if I'm lucky.
Other adjustments are also going to have to be made as well - including no more late nights on 'school nights'!
In my previous career, I found I could easily get away with going out drinking in midweek... and then stumbling into work the next day with a raging hangover.
After all, when you work in an office, you can just just switch your phone onto voicemail to give yourself some much-needed peace and quiet... and then simply attempt to look busy as you slowly recover!
There's no such hiding place however in a classroom when you have 30-odd raucous kids to contend with!
Still, in the grand scheme of things, I like to think that these things will prove to be a small price to pay for - all being well - a long career that I'll hopefuly never get bored of... September 22 The joy of season tickets and having your very own seat at the footy...Anyone who knows me will know that probably my biggest vice in life is my beloved football team, Nottingham Forest.
And if you're a regular reader of my ramblings, then you may recall that I wrote a few weeks ago about the fact that, apart from a two-year exile when I was away at university, I've had a season ticket at Forest every season since I was ten years old.
My very first season ticket was actually a 'half season ticket' - something Forest don't seem to do any more.
For the uninitiated, half season tickets were season tickets that the club used to start selling midway through the season - usually in the run-up to Christmas.
Indeed, mine was something I unwrapped to great delight on Christmas Day 1989... as a present from my parents.
What's more, my dad had got one too for himself - and so the two of us were able to go to all of Forest's home league matches during the second half of the season.
Now if any of you who are reading this go and watch footy regularly yourselves, then I'm about to state the bleeding obvious. But for the benefit of any of you who don't, having a season ticket usually means that you have the exact same seat for every match.
My first season - or half season - as a season ticket holder at the City Ground saw dad and me have adjacent seats in the upper tier of the Executive Stand... or Brian Clough Stand, as it is now known.
The following season then saw us move to the lower tier of the same stand... with my brother Al joining us as we claimed row six, seats 100 to 102.
The three of us kept these seats for five seasons - though at the end of the 1994-1995 season, dad decided that he wasn't going to bother coming anymore.
And in hindsight, you can't really fault his timing. After all, though the 1994-1995 season had seen an exciting Forest team finish third in the Premiership, they have never managed to scale such heights since.
Still, Al and me weren't to know at the time of the years of disappointment that lay ahead - and having both got the Forest bug in quite a big way, there was never any question that the two of us weren't going to carry on going.
By now we were aged 17 and 15 respectively - so we were old enough to go to matches on our own.
And to prove what big hard men we were, we decided for the next season - 1995-1996 - that we were going to broaden our horizons by moving from the relatively sedate environs of the Executive Stand lower tier to what, traditionally, had always been the true heart of the City Ground. Yes, the Trent End!
A brand new Trent End stand had been built during the previous season - and so we bagged seats in the upper tier for its first full season of operation.
And to be fair, it wasn't a bad season really. Granted, Forest didn't quite manage to repeat the league success of 1994-1995, only managing to finish ninth in the Premiership. However, they did manage to reach the quarter-finals of the Uefa Cup, which led to me bunking off school to travel to go on trips to cheer them on in France, Germany and Sweden!
Unfortunately though, it was obvious that the rot had well and truly started to set in at Forest - and having clearly sensed this, Al decided not to bother renewing his season ticket for 1996-1997.
Well actually, I seem to recall that his decision was actually far more to do with him being completely under the thumb at the time with his first serious girlfriend!
Either way though, it turned out that, like my dad, Al had picked a good time bad time to stop going. For 1996-1997 season was absolutely dismal, and saw the Reds relegated after finishing bottom of the Premiership.
Muggins here, of course, was there to see it all... having decided to keep my seat in the Trent End.
It wasn't much fun though sitting on my own watching a desperately crap team lose most of their matches. What's more, though the old Trent End had always historically been the noisiest part of the City Ground, two seasons of sitting in the newly-built stand had found me thinking more and more to myself that the atmosphere just wasn't the same.
Indeed, the hub of all rowdiness at the City Ground now seemed to be 'A Block' in the Main Stand - and so for 1997-1998 season, I decided to wave goodbye to the Trent End and get a season ticket there.
And happily, it proved to be a decent season - with Forest winning promotion back to the Premiership seemingly without having to break sweat.
But good season or not, it was then time for me to relinquish my status as season ticket holder - because shortly after the start of the following season, 1998-1999, I was off to Liverpool to start university.
In an ideal world, I would've liked to have carried on going to Forest matches - however, a combination of distance and limited funds meant that it simply wouldn't be possible.
Not that I lost much sleep over the fact that I was missing my fortnightly dose of the Reds, mind.
After all, the fact that I was busy doing all the things that young people tend to do when they first leave home and go to university - and I don't mean studying in the library! - was more than enough of a distraction!
Indeed, with frightening speed, I was transformed from being an avid fan into one of those people who just followed Forest from a distance. During each of those first two seasons while I was away, I only went to about four or five matches - usually on occasions when I'd gone home to Nottingham for the weekend and the Reds happened playing at home.
It could've easily remained this way forever more - and given that Forest's fortunes were starting to go into freefall by this point, it would probably have been for the best really!
However, the third season of my exile in Liverpool - 2000-2001 season - saw me get well and truly sucked back into the world of the Reds, and once again assume season ticket holder status!
And it all happened pretty much by accident really - thanks to a sequence of events that took place during the back end of the year 2000.
Now my first two seasons in exile at university had not seen me meet a single other Liverpool-based Forest fan. And it can be quite lonely supporting a team when you have no-one to share your passion with.
Indeed, I remember one particular occasion when the Reds were having a home league game against Huddersfield televised on Sky on a Sunday lunchtime - and so I duly donned my Forest shirt and went up to the student union bar to watch it.
I was half-hoping there might be some other Forest fans who had had the same idea, who I could watch the match with and maybe make friends with. As it was though, there were only about six other people in the whole bar - and all of them were Huddersfield fans!
And to compound my woe, Forest slumped to a dismal 3-1 defeat!
Finally however, the autumn of 2000 saw me meet a kindred spirit - Mr Andrew 'The Lothario' Best.
Despite being from deepest darkest Sussex, The Lothario is a massive Reds fan - and I got to know him one night when he sidled up to me in the student union bar and uttered the immortal words "This might sound strange... but did you go and watch Nottingham Forest play away at Crewe last season?"
I had. And so had he. And with us both having spent the previous two years attending lectures in the same building, The Lothario had recognised me... and duly made a mental note to collar me next time he saw me around the university.
Naturally, I was glad that he did. For finally, I had someone in Liverpool with whom I could go for a beer share my despair over the idiocy of then-Forest manager David Platt!
What's more, Forest fans exiled in Liverpool proved that they are rather like buses - yes, you wait for ages for one to turn up... and then two come along at once!
For within days of making acquaintance with The Lothario, I met another Reds fan - the lovely Miss Rachel Emily Hardy.
And it's quite a cool story as to how I met Rach - as we actually initially got chatting on a platform at Stockport station... where we'd both found ourselves stranded due to the fecklessness of Central Trains.
A bit of polite smalltalk had revealed that Rach, like me, was at university in Liverpool... and, like me, was on her way back there after a visit home.
But most excitingly of all, she was also a Reds fan!
Naturally, it wasn't long before arrangements were between the three of us - The Lothario, Rach and myself - to go and watch Forest together.
A few weeks later you see, the Reds had an away match just down the road from Liverpool - at Stockport, funnily enough.
Much like the Three Muskateers, The Lothario, Rach and me set off from Liverpool - and pleasingly, the result was victory.
What's more, we headed back to Liverpool afterwards, and embarked on an epic piss-up which, randomly, saw us bump into much-reviled D-list celebrity Darren Day!
Hilariously, I seem to recall that The Lothario ended up getting the infamous love rat to autograph his Stockport v Forest ticket - though with none of us having a pen, he ended up using some girl's lipstick!
Of course, such japes are the bedrock upon which lifelong friendships are built - and there numerous further trips to go and see Forest together.
But how did this lead to me getting a season ticket again?
Well, the Christmas of 2000 saw me head home to Nottingham - and with Forest having a home game on Boxing Day, I naturally went along.
I can't actually remember who they were playing or what the score was... so it couldn't have been a particularly great game!
At half-time however, the club started advertising on the scoreboard the fact that they were selling half season tickets for the rest of the 2000-2001 season - with the price for people aged under-21 just £43 for a seat in the upper tier of the Bridgford End!
With Forest still having a dozen or so matches remaining, this was an absolute bargain. Indeed, even if I only made it to half the matches, it would still be money well spent.
And with my previous season tickets having all been in either the Executive Stand, the Trent End or Main Stand, getting one in the upper Bridgford meant I could lay claim to having had a season ticket on all four sides of the ground!
So, I found myself popping into the ticket office straight after the game and handing my money over - and as a result, the next few months saw me suddenly heading back to Nottingham pretty much every other weekend... often accompanied by The Lothario.
By the end of the season, I'd got the Forest bug again to such a degree that there was no question that I wasn't going to renew my seat for the 2001-2002 season.
And I've had the same seat ever since.
It's a great seat too. It's right on the very front row of the upper tier, so I never get my view obscured by people standing up in front of me.
What's more, since 2001-2002 season, I've been joined once more by my brother Al, who also got the Forest bug again... and duly bagged the seat next to me.
What I really like about my seat though is the fact that it really is mine!
After all, apart from the odd few occasions, the City Ground isn't really used for anything else other than Forest matches.
So generally speaking, the only arse that ever gets plonked upon it is my own.
This week however saw one of those 'odd few occasions' though when that wasn't the case - namely, a cup tie at the City Ground which saw Forest take on Leicester City.
Now this game was actually a rearranged fixture - as the original match was abandoned at half-time after a member of the Leicester team suffered heart failure.
At the time, Forest had been leading 1-0 - and to their immense credit, the rearranged game saw Leicester make an amazing sporting gesture by allowing Forest to score an uncontested goal from kick-off to restore that advantage.
Being a bunch of useless gits, Forest still went on and lost anyway! But it was a bizarre scenario, and one which will stick in many fans' memories for a long time to come.
This aside though, one notable aspect of the Forest v Leicester game for me on a personal level was the fact that I was unceremoniously turfed out of my own seat!
Now as a season ticket holder at Forest, your season ticket only covers your admission for league games. However, you usually have the option of buying a ticket for your usual seat whenever the Reds are playing at home in one of the cups.
The Leicester game was an exception to this rule though - as with Leicester only being a few miles down the road from Nottingham, it was always a given that they'd be bringing quite a lot of fans.
Usually, away fans at Forest sit in the lower tier of the Bridgford End - and the 4,000 or so seats there are usually more than enough for most teams.
When word came from Leicester though that the wanted to bring more than 4,000 fans, the powers that be at Forest decided to let them have the upper tier of the Bridgford End as well!
And so those of us who usually sit up there were forced to go elsewhere!
Initially, this didn't bother me - and indeed, I thought it might make for a nice change to sit somewhere different.
I obviously hadn't realised though just how fond I'd become of my own seat - as on the night, I found it quite bothersome throughout the game that some unwashed pimply-faced oik from Leicester was sat in it!
Maybe it's just because of who Forest happened to be playing - after all, there's never been any love lost between the Reds and Leicester.
One thing's for certain though - I'm definitely going to be taking a bottle of Dettol and some kitchen towels with me to this afternoon's match against Gillingham, in order to give it a good clean..! September 21 A pirate-related story that amused me this week...Every so often, I read something in the paper that really tickles me.
The fact that I love all things pirate-related is no secret - but I was particularly amused by a story that appeared in today's 'Metro'.
As you may or may not know, Wedneday this week was International 'Talk Like a Pirate' Day. Yes, really! And to mark the momentous occasion, two pissed blokes decided to dress up as pirates, get in a dinghy, and set off from mainland England in an attempt to 'invade' the Isle of Wight! You can only salute these intrepid buccaneers - though sadly, things ended up going a bit tits-up... Without further a do, I'll let 'Metro' take up the story...
Pirates of the... Isle of WightWhat should we do with the drunken sailors? Arrest them. That was the simple answer when police caught up with two wannabe swashbucklers off the Sussex coast. The pranksters, dressed as pirates complete with pistols, a cutlass and a bottle of rum, had set sail on a dinghy to 'conquer' the Isle of Wight. But, after a few hours of life on the ocean wave, they ran out of steam. Reports that their dinghy was in trouble prompted lifeboat crews to rush to their rescue off Selsey, West Sussex. Back on dry land, things went from bad to worse when they were arrested for possessing offensive weapons. 'When we got there they were sitting in the boat quite happy,' said a Selsey Lifeboat spokesman. 'The police were waiting for them because they had a cutlass that was real.' The pirates, from Reading, were released without charge. They have not been named (but we think one's called Jim-lad...) September 17 A Mighty Boosh-speckled weekend in Liverpool...This last weekend saw me spend a couple of days up in the city of Liverpool - which is one of my favourite places in the whole world.
As most people who know me will know, I went to university up in Liverpool, from 1998 to 2001. I then stuck around for nearly a year after I graduated - and were it not for the fact that employment prospects were pretty dismal in Scouseland at the time, I think I could have easily ended up staying and settling there for good.
Of course, Liverpool is by no means without its faults. But I love the place warts and all... and indeed, I'd never rule out the possibility that I might end up moving back there one day.
I've certainly got far more friends up in Merseyside than I have in Nottingham!
Plus, part of me really wants to end up getting married to a Scouse chick - largely because this world offers few finer sounds than that of a girl with a Liverpool accent saying the word 'chicken'!
And imagine having that on tap?!
Joking aside though, I do try and get up to Liverpool as much as I can to catch up with friends and revisit old haunts - though being a busy kind of guy, it's nowhere near as often as I would like.
Indeed, this last weekend was my first visit in nearly a year.
Well actually, that's not strictly true. For only last month, I did actually set foot in Liverpool - only it was possibly the briefest visit of all time!
Early August, you see, saw me go away on a lads' weekend down in Somerset. And out of the six of us who went, I was the only non-Scouser.
The others were all driving down to Somerset from Liverpool - and making a detour to pick me up from Nottingham on the way would've added a couple of hours to an already-epic journey.
This being so, I decided it would be easiest for everyone if I got the train up to Liverpool... so I could set off from there with the rest of the gang.
Geographically of course, it was a crazy thing to do. But hey, sometimes you just have to take a hit for the team!
And if I got first train out of Nottingham at Silly O'Clock in the morning, surely I'd arrive in Liverpool with time for a good mooch around... before we headed off to the land of cider and the Wurzels?
Alas though, this wasn't to be!
No, the lads all had the hearts set on being comfortably sat in a Glastonbury boozer by lunchtime - so when my train pulled in at Liverpool's Lime Street Station at around 9.15am, I was immediately bundled into Mikey B's people-carrier... which promptly roared off in the direction of the south-west.
I would say that my trainers had been in contact with Scouse tarmac for no more than about two minutes!
Still, my sojourn up in Liverpool this last weekend meant that I didn't have to wait long to properly reacquaint myself with the city! And it was a great couple of days...
The reason for my visit was because one of my Scouse friends, SuperKev, turned 30 last week - and so it seemed only fitting to have a bit of a get-together to mark this milestone.
The eventful couple of days that resulted involved a bit of a Saturday afternoon drinking session in Liverpool city centre, which saw us rub shoulders in one particular bar with Everton stalwart Tommy Gravesen!
We eventually ended up back at SuperKev's - where his living room provided the perfect venue for a spot of Singstar!
For those of you who don't know it, Singstar is a Playstation game where you plug in microphones and sing in a karaoke style - only you actually get scored based on how in-tune your singing is!
When there's a few of you playing, it usually ends up getting quite competitive - particularly given that some of the song choices offer you the option of doing a 'duet duel' against one of your fellow players.
JHH and me duly locked horns in this fashion by having a bash at 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart' by Elton John and Kiki Dee - with him as Elton, and me as Kiki!
Naturally, JHH was the hot favourite - however, I somehow managed to hit all of the high notes and pull off a shock victory!
Overall highlight of the weekend though, for me, was a birthday surprise for SuperKev that JHH and me successfully cooked up between us.
SuperKev, you see, is a massive fan of the TV comedy series The Mighty Boosh. And if you're familiar with The Mighty Boosh, you'll probably be aware that there's a character in the show called Old Gregg - who likes nothing more than getting people to drink Bailey's from a shoe!
Now a month or so ago, I was up at JHH's in Leeds - and happened to notice that he had a beer glass shaped like a boot lying about in his flat.
Knowing at this point that we'd both be heading over to Liverpool for SuperKev's birthday, I immediately came up with an inspired idea.
Yes, if JHH brought his unusual drinking vessel with him to Liverpool, and I came equipped with a bottle of Bailey's, we could give SuperKev an authentic Old Gregg experience!
Pleasingly, both of us actually remembered the vital components. Cometh the hour, we insisted that a rather scared-looking SuperKev put on a blindfold for full dramatic effect... before whipping it off to reveal the surprise!
Needless to say, it went down a storm - so much so, that I've decided to start a Facebook group called 'I've saluted the Mighty Boosh's Old Gregg by drinking Bailey's from a shoe'!
If you're reading this witterings on my blog site - www.softbulletin.co.uk - then you'll be able to see a blow-by-blow photo diary of SuperKev's surprise below.
If, however, you're reading this witterings on Facebook - well, you'll need to go to www.softbulletin.co.uk!
September 11 Some witterings about my blog...Some of you may be reading these witterings on Facebook.
Some of you, meanwhile, may be reading them on www.softbulletin.co.uk - my online blog that I started writing back in the summer of 2006. If you're among the latter camp - well, this update is for your benefit really! Cos I just want to explain a subtle change I've decided to make to the blog - starting with this entry! Now if you're a regular visitor to www.softbulletin.co.uk, you'll know that I've always used song lyrics as titles for each of my blog entries. Occasionally, the lyric in question will have vague relevance to what I'm writing about. More often than not though, I simply go with whatever song happens to be stuck on my head at the time! Now I know that some of you who visit www.softbulletin.co.uk regularly have enjoyed my use of lyrics, and have enjoyed trying to 'name that tune'. However, from now on, I shan't be using lyrics. Sorry folks! Instead, I shall be writing my own titles - which will offer a snappy summary of the contents of each new entry. Or at least that's the plan! So why the change? Well, as some of you will be only too painfully aware, the social networking site Facebook has recently taken over the world. And one of the latest gimmicks on Facebook is a function aimed at people like me who do a blog. Yes, each time you write something new on your blog, the function in question automatically informs all your 'Facebook friends' - by sticking a note on the 'newsfeeds' that appears when they first log on to Facebook. However, the only information you actually get with these notes is the title for your blog entry. In other words, my last entry on www.softbullertin.co.uk would've flashed up on my Facebook friends' newsfeeds as nothing more than...
You know that song by Phil Collins 'In The Air Tonight'? By Rich Fisher
Obviously, to read that as a title on it's own, it's a bit vague! Which is why, from now, I'm going to start being a bit more descriptive and specific. It is kind of sad that I'll no longer be using the lyrics! I've actually just been through all the dozens of blog entries that I've written since I started www.softbulletin.co.uk... and I'd say that the lyrics I've chosen as titles offer a pretty good snapshot really of my overall music tastes. The Beatles are a clear winner, with me having used their lyrics on no fewer than 11 occasions! They're followed by Belle and Sebastian (7), The Arctic Monkeys (6), the Stone Roses (4), and the Libertines, Manic Street Preachers, Radiohead and Oasis (3 each). For the anoraks among you, here, in alphabetical order, is a full list of all the bands and artists whose lyrics I have stolen for titles since I started www.softbulletin.co.uk. Each band/artist has had a lyric used on one occasion, unless it says otherwise in brackets. Toto - what the hell was I thinking?!..
10CC ACDC The Animals Adam Ant (2) Alabama Three Arcade Fire Arctic Monkeys (6) Badly Drawn Boy JJ Barrie The Beatles (11) Beck Belle and Sebastian (7) Beta Band (2) Black Sabbath Blur Boney M Bon Jovi David Bowie (2) Billy Bragg The Breeders Ian Brown Buzzcocks The Charlatans Chas & Dave Alice Cooper Ray Davies Dead Kennedys Dire Straits Jason Donovan Driver 67 Elastica Elbow (2) Eminem The Fifth Dimension The Flaming Lips Girls Aloud Grandaddy Guns N Roses (2) Half Man Half Biscuit (2) Nick Harper (2) Rolf Harris (2) PJ Harvey Robin Hitchcock I Am Kloot Interpol Iron Maiden Michael Jackson Joy Division Judas Priest Kaiser Chiefs (3) Kiss The KLF Jean Knight The Levellers The Libertines (3) Love Madness Madonna Manic Street Preachers (3) CJ McCall Motorhead (2) Mud Jim Noir Oasis (3) Billy Ocean Ooberman Pet Shop Boys Pink Floyd Pogues Elvis Presley The Proclaimers Pulp (2) Queen (2) Radiohead (3) Jerry Reed R.E.M. (2) Resistance 77 Righteous Brothers Rocket From the Crypt Simian Six By Seven Stan Ridgeway Carly Simon The Smiths (2) Spandau Ballet Spinal Tap Edwin Starr Status Quo Steppenwolf (2) The Stone Roses (4) The Stranglers The Streets Survivor Tatu Terrorvision Toto Travis The Village People The White Stripes The Wildhearts September 05 You know that song by Phil Collins 'In The Air Tonight', about that guy who could have saved that other guy from drowning but didn't?...Though my life is by no means perfect, there's one area of it where I feel I'm truly blessed. And that is the fact that I have a good number of fantastic friends.
But what is it that makes us value our mates?
Well, I think it's fair to say that there are all sorts of reasons. For instance, it might be their unerring thoughfulness. Or it may be simply the fact that they make you laugh.
One sign of a truly great friend though is when someone well and truly sticks their neck out for you. And I was fortunate enough to have that happen to me recently.
Back in June of this year, you see, the time came for me to renew my Nottingham Forest season ticket. And apart from a couple of seasons when I was living away from Nottingham, I've had a season ticket at Forest every year since I was ten years old.
Of course, the mighty Reds have had their ups and downs over the years. Nevertheless, even during the lean years, I simply couldn't imagine life without the ritual of the fortnightly pilgrimage to the City Ground.
This summer, however, I had a problem. Yes, after returning home practically penniless after my five months of gallivanting around the world, I simply couldn't afford the cost of renewing my seat - a cool £361.
Of course, as a fully paid-up member of The Generation That Buys Everything On Credit And Worries About It Later, I could have just gone down to the Forest ticket office and handed over the ol' flexible friend.
Call me old fashioned though, but I'm a big believer generally in only spending what you actually have in the bank. So after much knashing of teeth, I decided I'd simply have to relinquish my season ticket-holder status, and join the ranks of the Fans That Just Go To The Occasional Game.
Or so I thought!
For a few days after having made this decision that I wasn't going to renew, I got a call on my mobile from Graham.
Now I first met Graham right at the arse-end of the year 2000, when I first acquired the seat that I've sat in for the last seven seasons.
At first, Graham was simply The Bloke Who Sat Next To Me. And indeed, when you're a season ticket-holder, you sometimes sit next to the same person week after week and maybe even year after year without ever really conversing with them beyond rudimentary pleasantries.
Graham, however, is someone who over the years has become a great friend to me and also my brother Al. The three of us all share quite an offbeat sense of humour - and regardless of the standard of the football, we never fail to have a right good laugh when we're sat together at the match. There are numerous in-jokes that we share between the three of us - and I'd be only too happy to tell you about some of them... but I strongly suspect that no-one else on the planet would quite understand our banter about Paul Hart's Crusty Sweatshirt, Smashie and Nicey, or Terry The Foul-Mouthed Fucking Kitman!
And happily, Graham's phone call revealed that it's not just me who appreciates all the jocularity.
"Rich, I've been having a think since you told me you're not going to renew your seat," he said. "I've decided I'm not going to allow the gang to be split up - so I want to lend you the money to pay for your ticket. And you can take as long as you want to pay it back."
Needless to say, I didn't quite know what to say to this amazing gesture.
But while I always have reservations about borrowing money... espercially from friends... I did accept Graham's offer.
Sadly though, Forest have been fucking shit since the season began a month or so ago, failing to win a single game so far!
This probably explains why a great number of Reds fans turned up last night for an event billed as 'An Evening With Stan Collymore'.
And no, before you ask, this didn't involve furtively arriving at a layby somewhere off the M6. Rather, Stan The Man was at The Approach - a bar in Nottingham city centre - where he took to the stage and was interviewed in a chat show style about his colourful exploits on the pitch and various misdemeanours off it.
Now Stan has been a much-vilified figure in recent years. However, Nottingham is one of the few places where he is still held in massive affection, through him having been one of the undisputed stars of the last decent Forest team - namely, the Frank Clark side that finished third in the Premiership back in 1995.
I'm probably a bit biased, but the Stan who turned out for Forest remains to this day the most exciting footballer I have ever seen. And a nice bloke to boot.
Yes, he's certainly had his problems... but I'd prefer to remember him as the guy who once gave up half an hour of his time to let me interview him back when I was an aspiring 14-year-old journalist.
How many of today's prima donna Premiership stars could be arsed to do that?
Yes, I was a bit pissed off when Stan left Forest in search of bigger and better things. But time is a great healer - and given Forest's rapid demise since his departure, you can't really blame Stan in hindsight for deciding to move on.
Stan certainly got a good reception when he was introduced on stage at The Approach - and his insights made for a hugely entertaining evening.
Particularly amusing was his succinct verdict on Vanilla Ice, with whom he appeared on the reality TV show 'The Farm' a few years ago: "A big American dick."
There was also an amusing faux pas when he started talking about Forest "trying to get out of League Two".
"League Two?" came an indignant response from the audience. "Come on Stan, we're shit... but we're not THAT shit!"
I was particularly pleased when the audience were invited to put questions to Stan, and I managed to get in there by asking him what he thought of the Glastonbury festival - what with him having been spotted there this year. His favourite bands of the weekend, for the record, were Kings of Leon and Maximo Park - though he wasn't massively impressed with the mud!
On a general note, one thing that was commendable about Stan was that he was searingly honest, and didn't try and skirt round any of the controversies that he's been involved with over the years.
And he was also a consummate pro in dealing with the inevitable catcalls about dogging, putting one heckler well and truly in his place by pointing out the rather unfortunate resemblence he bore to Terry Nutkins!
Still clearly unable to shake off my journalistic tendencies, I actually recorded the whole evening on my dictaphone - so if anyone wants to hear what was said, just shout... and I'll happily run off a copy.
It was a great evening on the whole, and I'm sure I was by no means the only person present who was left feeling all hazy with nostalgia over all the tales from much happier times for the Reds.
I just wish Forest could unearth another Collymore-type player to drag them out of their current malaise - or else I may start looking back on Graham's kind gesture as a curse rather than a blessing..! September 03 Little things I should have said and done. I never took the time. You are always on my mind. You are always on my mind...There are many things in the world that make different people happy. For me personally, I like to ensure that my life is peppered with regular lashings of randomness.
My love of the randomness is such that my good friend Mikey B often refers to me as 'The Totally Random Man' - and whether it's taking part in the infamous Gloucester cheese race or throwing fancy dress parties that require guests to dress up as deceased rock stars, I've always had a tendency to embrace the absurd and the ridiculous.
So why am I babbling on about this?
Well, simply because this weekend just gone involved more randomness than I think I've ever managed to cram into a two-day period!
It all happened during a trip down to deepest darkest Sussex to visit my great friend Mr Andrew 'The Lothario' Best.
Now I'd chosen this last weekend to visit Andy for good reason - because The World Beard and Moustache Championships happened to be taking place in Brighton!
Having often been a trusty sidekick of mine over the years during my quests for randomness, Andy was immediately in agreement that this event would make for an excellent day's entertainment. And so come Saturday afternoon, we found ourselves wandering along the sea front towards the Brighton Centre... a venue more accustomed to playing host to touring rock bands such as Franz Ferdinand and the Flaming Lips!
But let's start the story five weeks prior to this - as that's when our preparation began in earnest.
"Wouldn't it be funny," I thought, "to not only attend the championships... but also to get into the spirit of things by attempting ourselves to grow the most ridiculous taches that we can possibly muster?"
Alas, Andy's efforts on this front turned out to be pretty feeble!
Never one to do things by halves though, I caused a great deal of amusement among my friends and family by cultivating a full Dirk Diggler-style handlebar!
Whilst pretty pleased though with my efforts, one drawback of my new face furniture was that I felt utterly, utterly ridiculous whenever I was required to go out in public!
I felt like EVERYONE was staring at me!
One thing I learned though above anything else from the World Beard and Moustache Championships is that everything is relative.
Yes, as soon as we arrived, it was immediately apparent that my efforts would pale in significance compared to... well, virtually all of the serious contenders present!
Honestly, you've never seen anything like it. Just have a look at the pics I've uploaded to my photo gallery - as words can't possibly do justice to some of the spectacular sights that were there to behold!
The event was actually a lot bigger than we'd thought it would be. For starters, it was actually a complete sell-out - though fortunately, Andy and me had acquired tickets in advance. All in all, there were approximately 500 people there, split probably about 50-50 between spectators and competitors - with some of the competitors having come from as far afield as Australia, America and, naturally, Germany!
And most of them were desperate to win!
Visiting the gents, we stumbled upon one guy who was stood in front of the mirror, furiously teasing his flowing handlebar 'tache with the aid of a hairdryer!
Indeed, given the seriousness with which the contest was being taken, you couldn't help but wonder whether the event - which is held every two years, each time in a different country - has ever seen rival beardies resort to foul play by attempting to sabotage each other's facial hair!
As for the format - well, it was pretty much like a facial hair version of Crufts... with contenders in each of the different categories required to take to the stage and parade in front of a panel of judges.
The categories ranged from 'Best Dali tache' to 'Best Garibaldi beard'.
And to add to the surrealness of it all, one of the judges was the pop star Nick Cave!
Andy just spent the entire time with our mouths agog, taking in the madness And it got more and more entertaining the longer the event wore on - mainly because there was a bar at the venue, and the audience were getting increasingly drunk and raucous as the afternoon rolled on!
Amusingly, 'Best Chinese-style tache' saw the judges overlook a guy with a full Fu Manchu-style drooper, who had clearly been a crowd favourite to win the category. It genuinely looked at one stage like the event was going to degenerate into a small-scale riot as the masses expressed their grave disapproval!
All in all then, a hilarious afternoon. And surely more than enough madness for one weekend, right?
Wrong!
For the weekend saw two further doses of what can only be described as randomness!
The first dose came immediately after the World Beard and Moustache Championships, when we decided to go for a Chinese meal. Only it wasn't just ANY ol' Chinese meal!
No, we had decided to go and dine at Gracelands Palace - an establishment in the town of Tunbridge Wells that has the proud boast of being the world's only Elvis-themed Chinese restaurant!
The place is basically run by a Chinese guy called Paul Chain, who is obsessed with Elvis. And every night, he gets to live the dream - by dressing up in full Elvis regalia and serenading his customers with the hits of the King!
Along with Andy's fiancee Amanda and some of their friends - Scott, Becky and Claire - Andy and I waited with baited breath for this spectacle.
And I can honestly say it turned out to be one of the funniest things I have ever seen!
The funniest thing about Chinese Elvis is the fact that, though he puts his heart and soul into his performance, he can't actually sing for shit! That and the fact that he has a tendency of randomly accosting his customers mid-performance, slapping them on the back, and shouting "ELVIS LOVE YOU TOO MUCH!"
Oh how we laughed!
Meanwhile, the second post-Beard and Tache Championships piece of randomness took place the following afternoon, when Andy casually announced that one of his local football clubs - Buxted FC - were playing a charity match against a 'celebrity' team!
Now long with the drummer from Iron Maiden and Hunter from Gladiators, one of the celebrities turning out happened to be Mark Morriss, singer with the Bluetones - a band best-known for having a number two hit single with 'Slight Return' back in 1996.
Having long been fans of the 'Tones, Andy and I figured it'd be a laugh to go along and watch. And what's more, I suddenly found myself conjuring up an ingenious and mischievous plan!
Andy and me, you see, have a friend called Rachel who we went to uni with in Liverpool.
And if I had to tell you one significant piece of information about Rach, it would probably be the fact that she's long been absolutely besotted with Mark Morriss!
Naturally then, it only seemed appropriate to go along to the match with the aim of collaring the erstwhile crooner either before or after... and getting him to ring Rach to say hello!
Happily, we cornered our quarry by the beer tent within minutes of arriving - and being a top bloke, he was more than game!
I would have only loved to have seen Rach's face when she answered a call which would've flashed up on her mobile as 'Rich mobile' - only to find herself stammering like a shellshocked buffoon not to me... but the very man she has long had incredibly deviant sexual fantasties about!
So, cheers to Marky Mark for being a good sport! He also went on to put in a man-of-the-match performance in the charity game, which ended in a 3-3 draw.
Given the fact that it had ended in a stalemate though, it was decided to have a penalty shoot-out to decide the winners - and the celeb team lost after our man perpetrated possibly the feeblest spot-kick of all time, scuffing his effort wide.
A sad end then to the afternoon - but all in all only really a minor blip really on what was a hilarious weekend!
Naturally though, I am now in big trouble with Rach - and suspect I possibly ought to brace myself for some form of revenge in the very near future.
Watch this space! |
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