A story broke recently (here) about a heroic band of men who possibly saved hundreds of lives thanks to their bravery. It would be fantastic to know you are that guy who, in movies, throws themselves in front of a cowering weed of a man to protect them from a gun-toting lunatic or a bus. Sadly, I am not that guy. I am more likely to be the cowering weed.
I think I would be too much of a blubbering mess to do anything helpful in a crisis situation and I fear I would be unable to sacrifice myself, like the guys in the linked story did, and would probably use a small child as a human shield instead.

In the face of danger a hero stands tall before a civilian and protects them from a speeding vehicle or a bullet. In movies and books there is always that guy who dashes into a busy road, tackles a small child out of harm’s way and proclaims something like, “Go on son, my life has been lived. You can now live yours!” In a similar situation I would be watching from the street wondering why nobody is doing anything to save that small child.

There are even real-life ‘Kick-Ass’ type superheroes, who dress up in a morph suit and a pair of yellow dish gloves and kung-fu the crap out of the local drunks and druggies. These people are amazing and I admire them greatly but my Wednesday nights are reserved for The Great British Bake Off, not fighting crime on the streets of Stoke-on-Trent.

The most heroic thing I have ever done is run away from an angry mob of chavs during the summer of 2005. I am sure, however, that many of you have performed an abundance of heroic deeds throughout your rich and varied lives and I would love to hear them. Don’t forget to comment below and tell me your heroic actions, or make me feel better and tell me the most cowardly thing you’ve done when faced with danger.

This past week I have been back in touch with family after ten years of estrangement. Not blood relatives, oh no. The WWE. Now, I can already imagine a few people rolling their eyes when reading this and they are the reason for this post.

My fiancé (yes, it’s still new so any chance I get to use it, I do) has been taking the absolute piss out of me ever since I started watching it again. I understand why. It’s scripted, it’s fake, it’s this and it’s that. I know this, believe me I do. I am not under some illusion that it’s all real, they all hate each other and yet decide to road trip around the world together. I know it’s scripted. However, I enjoy it. The fact that people still believe ‘they don’t get hurt’ is of course ridiculous because each and every time they step into that ring they risk their lives. Whether they fall badly or simply get screwed over by gravity, their necks are literally on the line and one mishap could spell not just the end of their careers but also their life. A broken neck or spine is no laughing matter and that should be taken into consideration before badmouthing the profession.

Why are some sports considered prestigious and worthy of adulation whilst others are ridiculed?

Football, for example, is placed on a pedestal and people worship the ground the players walk on and this is considered normal. However, football is full of spitting lunatics who get angry with other spitting lunatics for stealing a bag of air from under their feet and kicking it into a giant net. I can understand the appeal of watching football but in relation to a sport like wrestling, where skill is imperative – a matter of life or death (or at least very serious injury) – football is surely less worthy of such respect?
If grown men cry at football, nobody bats an eyelid. If I was to cry over a wrestling match, however, everybody would lose their minds and call me childish.

I am unable to comprehend the reasons. Society is a very strange thing indeed.

I have been to live events and the atmosphere is, as the commentators say, electric. You can feel the excitement in the air like rain before a storm and the camaraderie among fans is fantastic. Never have I felt threatened around WWE fans. The fans live for the sport and don’t take it, or themselves, seriously. That is how I sum up the WWE – good, clean, harmless fun that doesn’t take itself seriously.
The same cannot be said for sports like football, where violence is every bit a part of the sport as the games are.

Returning back to the WWE after ten long years away genuinely feels like returning home to family. So please, on behalf of the WWE Universe, stop telling us it is fake and let us enjoy it.

Oh and for anybody who still thinks wrestling is childish . . .

I posted just over a week ago about some of the reasons I left Facebook. Today, much like Professor Farnsworth, I no longer want to live on this planet.

I know how you feel, buddy.

I know how you feel, buddy.

I stumbled across an article today, during my routine morning stroll through Twitter, that made me question if Earth is a real place. The article in question (this one) is literally about a seventeen-year-old girl changing the colour of her hair. Disregarding the article’s obvious spelling mistakes, it offends me on a cultural level too. We have survived for two hundred thousand years as a species only to be paid to publish poorly written material about the colour of a teenager’s hair. What is even worse is that people read this rubbish! They lap it up in their thousands. They huddle around their glowing screens of broken promises and take nourishment from inane ‘gossip’. If they could pour milk over it and eat it with a spoon they would.

Particular highlights (that is a pun) of the article, for me, lie in the parts where the journalist informs the reader of what colour the ‘reality star’ usually ‘dies’ her hair. A good article, as we all know, relies on the details and the research.

I have said this before on an old blog, that we should just stop reading newspapers. I still believe this. If we stop reading this rubbish, they will stop printing it. I promise you.

I will remind you once again of how ridiculous we have become. A grown woman has been paid actual currency to write actual words about . . . a teenager dying her hair. For all her trouble she didn’t even bother to use spellchecker.

Facebook is a many-splendoured thing and by that I mean tragically depressing.

I recently deactivated my Facebook account because it was beginning to feel like a competition for ‘most desperate attempt to look like you’re having fun.’ If people are not posting selfies with a bottle of vodka in their claws, professing their love for the latest city/country they have visited, or rabbling on about how dearly they love their latest beau, people would think they were dead. What’s that I hear you cry, people would not think they were dead? Well, someone should perhaps tell them that because the Facebook generation have pigeonholed themselves into a very tight corner and cannot seem to be able get out of it. Everyone seems to think that everyone needs to know what everyone is doing. What I noticed most whilst being on Facebook is that, like school, there are cliques. To illustrate my point I have compiled a list, for your amusement, of the kind of people you will find.

The McCartney Wannabe.
You may often scroll down your timeline to find a video made by one of your fellow Facebookians. You wait for it to load, watch the first millisecond of it and then continue to scroll down because yes, you guessed right, it is yet another video of them strumming inanely on a guitar to a tune you couldn’t guess even if a gun was put to your head. Do yourself a favour and enter this person into X Factor so they can be publicly humiliated thus ending your pain.

The Savage Selfie Taker.
This breed of Facebookian can be seen mainly in their homes or at the pub. Their Instagram account will be firmly linked with Facebook so they can bore ALL of their friends at the same time with their unimaginative snapshots of not only them but their cat, dog or Dave the bouncer.

The Family Fiend.
This family member will disturb you to the very core. Families, in your mind, will be a wholesome collective that can do no wrong. WRONG! This family member, usually uncle Terry, will post the most outrageous, offensive drivel you will ever see in your life. They can usually be found sharing posts by ‘Britain First’ or the ‘EDL’.

The Foodie Fapper.
Beware the foodie fapper. This one will eat anything you put in front of them but not before taking a photo of it first. Burgers, salads, toast, you name it, they will shoot it and then devour it. Best not to get in a selfie with these guys if they ask.

The Chav.
This one is pretty straightforward. The chav will usually have more ‘friends’ than possible for them to meet at their age, numerous photos of their five children and the grammar of a dyslexic goat. Their trademark is the misspelling of words such as ‘definitely’ (defiantly), ‘your/you’re’ and ‘haven’t’, which they will replace with ‘aint’ (yes, without the apostrophe).

The Perfect Prince/Princess.

Ugh, is there anything more annoying than a prissy little achiever when you’re trying to trudge through your pathetic, mediocre life? No! This person will consistently make your life a living hell with their sporadic updates on how their latest foray into whatever it is they have tried their hand at has turned out brilliantly.
Top Tip: Find something they are bad at and memorise it for when times get particularly bad.

The Mistaker.
This is the person who has mistaken Facebook for their Twitter account, where it is acceptable to post every five minutes. This user can be found on every other post on your timeline.

To get the most from this list you may want to create a bingo board and mark each one off when you see them on your next scroll down Facebook.

You may be thinking ‘well, why don’t you just unfollow them so you can’t see what they post?’ Believe me, it is not that simple because each and every one of your ‘friends’ will fit into one of these categories. By the time you have finished unfollowing everyone you will be left with your best friend and your mother, which would be like not having Facebook at all. This, my friends, is what I suggest you do – not have Facebook at all. We have a very short time on this Earth, which is shortened on an almost hourly basis by the blue teat of social media. During my four days away from Facebook I have been so much more productive, not least of all returning to this very blog. I urge you to do the same so you too can see how detrimental it really is. Do not live to post, live a life that is worthy of posting.

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