The World According To NED
I’m blaming @special_noodles (Andy Keetch) for this…. you bastard. But, it’s a Donkey and it’s called Dominick.
I can’t not really…. ‘Cos it’s Dominick the Christmas Donkey
As many of you who read this blog (or who have read it in the last 12 months) know my Nan passed away 3 years ago, someone who meant loads to me…. and today was the 3rd anniversary of her funeral and, what would’ve been her 95th birthday, and I forgot until 10pm tonight. I’ve been thinking of her all week and when it came down to it, I missed the mark.
So, thinking of a blog post to write about her on this anniversary I realised that I already wrote the best post I could; so better than BHCC can do, I’m going to recycle………
This is the post I wrote last year, and every fucking thing I wrote then still makes me happy but sad too…
It’s the 2nd anniversary of the day we buried my Nan.
It’s been a weird day today, she was around for years and I miss her loads.
It’s not often that I use this blog to discuss things that are hard emotionally to discuss, but she rocked! 
I have great memories of my Nan, and thankfully, I remember her as she was when I was young and wearing a Cub Scout uniform (yes I was in the Cubs)
My Nan looked after me when I was off for school holidays as I went to a private school (yes another confession) and finished earlier for the holidays than my parents, who are both teachers.
I remember spraying the kitchen with Angel delight; my Nan cutting the electric cord to the fire with a kitchen knife and it going bang ‘cos the electric was still on, her coal bunker, the shed and hitting the sheet of asbestos behind it with anything I can find (it wasn’t dangerous then); Granddads chair (I never knew my Granddad, he sadly passed away when I was a baby), a broken wrist, lavender, a black and white TV, plasticine and the slope at 4 Landseer Close.
My Nan never could cope with me using the word piss, but fuck was OK! Never wore a seat belt (she always held it over her shoulder until we were around the corner from my folks (sorry Mum, I let her get away with it) then took it off)
But the years took their toll, and I saw her less and less as she became older and more ill, and in a way I am glad. I am glad that I remember my Nan for the things above, not ill and not the person I loved sick in a hospital bed, but I miss my Nan loads, I always will…….
So this is for you Nan, I bloody miss you, I’ll come and say hi in March, I promise!!
I’m back to Tunbridge Wells soon, I’ll come and see you then.. I miss you Nana xx
Ok, I have tried to write this post many a time and deleted it the next day, as I have written it when I have been too many beers in and pretty shit faced (note to self, don’t write drunken blog posts, ‘cos anyone with it set up as an RSS feed gets your posts anyway!!!)
I miss Australia, I miss it loads. Not just ‘cos it’s now dark at work; or it’s cold or any other 1000 reason I can mention…
I miss it because my life was different there; I was healthier; tanned and happier than I am in the UK
I know Brighton rocks, it’s great to see my family and friends again but I feel all at sea here. I’m not settled, I am working out everyday how to get back, and in my reckoning it’s going to be 2 years to get back there once I pay off my parents (they helped me out to get home and also get settled here, as always they bailed me out…again); get enough money in the bank to come back comfy and find a new job…. but it’s hard, very hard everyday.
I had a great group of friends there (hello all; or should I say G’day!); a couple of which have a son that I have never seen after Isaac was born within days of me leaving; another couple who have a baby on the way (not sure Rich has grown up past 6 months though himself) and 6 weeks of winter that is a great amazing thing.
So, what do I do? At this stage nothing unless the lottery fairy lands in my lap. So I just have to suck it up; chill these 2 years until I get back there, as there are no other options (not enough grannies to mug to get the money to go)
So I will try to put a smile on my face and grin and bear it…. just praying that the next 5 months of shit weather flies by
Sorry for the delay in posting my blog post re: Egypt, but as anyone who speaks to me regularly knows I have been, and still is ill, 16 days to date. A Egypt bug and now a cold…. Colds, more snot than you know what to do with and no point to it either.
Anyway, here are some pictures from Egypt, the biggest hassle country I have ever been to. Where the word no means yes in 100 different ways; where hygiene is an after thought and the temperatures hit 40 degrees everyday (that last fact is a bonus, I love that heat…. so so much)
I went to Cairo for 2 days, a stopover of sorts on my way to Luxor. So I went uber tourist and saw the Pyramids @ Giza and the Egypt Musuem
Or the thing that I love the most in Cairo……
So there you go, Cairo
As many of you know (well the 6 of you that now read this blog) I bought a BMX a little while ago when I was living in Perth.
This Sunday 2 of my good friends came down with their BMX’s and we went out around Brighton and Hove for a bit of childish fun.
Now, as you will see from the title I am now 35, the youngest of the 3. Jim is the oldest, but I must say the most accomplished of BMX riders…. 5 10 (I have been told by Jim, although I didn’t see it, it was a longer wheelie than 5 metres) metre wheelies is one of his tricks
Anyway we tooled around Brighton, drunk a couple of beers on the beach and enjoyed the sunshine. We rode from mine in Preston Circus to the higher level of the road at Kemptown to watch the extreme sports festival (or the biggest recruiting drive by the armed forces I’ve ever seen!); then to Hove (actually) lagoon and all the way back again via the marina.
It was an amazing day, one I hope to repeat again. It ended at the Open House, near where I live, with a beer and a chill.
It wasn’t roasting, as Jim said, “Perfect BMX riding weather”….. So I look forward to the next time, I hope it’s not too soon in the future
PS, bugger did my knees hurt in the morning….. 35, not 14!!
So my 2nd new post to the resurrected Ned’s World is about the loss of another one of my heroes
Keith Floyd past away last night, age 65 from a heart attack, I was gutted. He has been a major part of my childhood and teen years.
He wasn’t always that special to me, in fact he fucked me off something rotten when I was growing-up. Sundays with my Dad (a more massive Floyd fan than me) watching him again and again and again……… to the point of despair… (Hence why I read so much and am great at computer games)
But as I grew older (or was it some kind on brainwashing) I grew to enjoy his shows, his love of food, wine, international culture, wine, the shambolic nature of his shows, wine, “back to me Clive” and, does it need mentioning again, wine!
So here we are, the best fucking Chef in the world….. Rugby (we should’ve been wearing clogs);The Theme Music and Langoustine in in a pinquante tomato sauce
This is for you Dad, thanks for making me love this drunken bugger; I think I’m as gutted as you and the rest of us are (sorry couldn’t find zee little doog with zee little nooze zat findz zee truufles video)
OK, so it’s been months since I wrote here, but the eve of my 35th birthday seem like a good a time as any to start again.
As the title says, and many of you know who know me, I don’t have an issue with growing old. The gray hair, wrinkles and tiredness are all part and parcel with becoming, what is technically, middle aged.
However there are a few thing that start to give concern: A) I still think I’m 21, but that was 14 years ago; B) my dad is only 26 years older than me now, less than it is more; C) I’m technically middle aged! D) I’m not married or have kids E) I have friends I have now known for 19 years, and I am still friends with now F) my joints ache when it’s cold and damp (and at sometimes when it’s not) G) It takes me too fucking long to recover from a night out on the piss! H) My childhood heroes are dying more regularly than ever before.
However, I am not planning on growing-up soon. I still laugh writing “boobies” on a calculator; I still stick my arms out and be an aeroplane; I like jellybabies, jellytots and Tootie-Frooties; I still love my folks and need their help at times! I have a BMX, and XBOX360 and a penchant for Lego.
So all I am going to say is, growing old sucks, but it’s better to grow old than up.
So I leave you with this important note: Grab the nearest calculator and turn it upside down and type this: 5318008 it’ll make you smile!
It has been a great day, weather wise, in Brighton today. 19 degrees and sunny….
I went for a walk along the beach at sunset, it’s not as goods as Perth, but it still has its perks
Well, that’s what it feels like.
The government has given me 52 GBP (still no pound sign on this laptop, it also says the time is 9.01pm) to live on each week. An OK amount, but you have to not do anything to survive on it.
Every morning I walk to the job centre to check on jobs; a good 3 mile walk to make sure I get out of the flat at least once in a day.
But you can’t grab a coffee out and read a book for an hour; you can’t grab a pint or 2 or even buy the Guardian daily. You are left with the option of going for a walk (not a bad thing when the sun is shining and you live in Brighton) or you can sit back at home and try not to eat everything in the flat.
I have applied for jobs; 32 to date. 1 job had 456 applications; another 206! So I keep applying for anything I want to do, can handle doing or anything. The problem I have is that I am over qualified for a lot of the jobs on offer or underqualified for others. In a recession I am double fucked, my skills are in recruitment (one of the 1st things to go in a recession) and I recruit for marketing people (the 2nd thing to go)…..
Anyway, I will keep you posted what happens with work, but if any of you hear of anything let me know. Ideally I want something that will allow me to retrain in a digital marketing/web design/web development type role, get some experience and jump on that plane back downunder.