Tag: Humour

I thought holidays were supposed to be relaxing?

Evening guys. Tramadol is my friend this week.

We’ve just got home after a short break at Bluestones National Park and let me tell you I’ve never ached so much in my entire life. The wife, Diddy Dictator and a couple of friends and I embarked on an activity holiday, thing. We walked, we swam, we were exceptionally bad at Archery, well I was. (The wife was a crack shot at crossbow though.) And we climbed through trees. And that therein is where the aching comes from. 

Our friends and I did the high wires through the trees while the wife chilled out with the dude. Oh how I wished I’d never put my name forward now! I can’t even pull myself out of the bath! I’m not the most active of people, I’d like to be, and I do try, but holy hell I feel like I’ve been torn limb from limb!

 I started off so well, awesome zip line to start, first obstical, smashed it, second one, smashed that. Felt like I was in the final of Ninja Warrior. Then it all started to go wrong…

I am of the shorter variety and this next obstical had me stepping along logs that I was never gonna reach. That’s just small person discrimination! So naturally I fell off the logs and dangled 50 foot up for a couple of seconds before hauling my ass back onto the logs and shuffling along on my ass because getting upright again wasn’t happening. So that was my first warning sign, should have turned back then really, but no, on I went. 

Now in fairness, I completed the rest of that course with no other issues, so I’m back to feeling like Ben Shepperd is commentating on my round and I go into course 2 feeling confident. Oh how wrong I was. Firstly, just walking round the first obstical I twisted my bloody ankle. So, took a couple of mins, shook it off and soldiered on. Them came the cargo net. The second obstical on the second course, my downfall, the one that finally beat me. I was doing so well! 

I stated high, trying to use my legs more than my arms and half way across, I slipped. Into the net my legs go and my grip is gone. I try righting myself, while trying to get to the platform, but I’m slipping further down the net. Remember I said I’m not very physical, well this is where it was obvious. I’m so close to the edge, to making it to the platform, and I slip again. My biceps are on fire and I can’t feel my hand anymore. I’m one step away, and I slip again, by now, my arms have given up on  me. My hand has cramped up so much so I can’t even close it to grip, and I don’t even have the strength in my arms to even lift them now. I’m sorry to say, that net did beat me. I had to be helped onto the platform by one of the lovely instructors and I rested while the rest of the group went ahead. Including children. Children! Who had no problems whatsoever! Bloody kids. So after discussing the rest of the course, and where I’d need to use my arms, we figured it would be best if I came down, before we were at a point I couldn’t get down. I was so disappointed in myself that it had beat me. But now I’m paying that price.

I’ve not been able to lift my arms above shoulder height for the past 2 days and the wife is having to help me get dressed I’m in that much pain. The 7 hour car journey home didn’t help either with the winding bloody roads! ( it was only that long coz we stopped a couple of times and dropped in to my mums for tea and to pick the cat up) 

So I haven’t really slept since Wednesday because I can’t find a comfy position where it doesn’t hurt, and tonight, I finally gave in and had some Tramadol, which has helped me get movement back, just not with the pain, or knocking me out, which it usually does. 

But you know what, despite all the pain, the disappointment and the weather (it was a bit miserable) I’d do it all again. We had so much fun and the dude loved it, he was in his element and all his needs were being met, so he was a pleasure of a little boy for the whole holiday.  Just next time, I will have been in the gym for 6 months before hand and I’ll be able to bench 200kg and get my ass across that cargo net.

So from an achey and now and a little delirious me, I shall bid you adieu.

Sleep Well


P.S The only bullseye I got, and I wasn’t even supposed to…


She’s not even real Insomniac.

So, good going Dan, you start a blog about insomnia and your thoughts at stupid o’clock and you go and have probably one of the best weeks sleep in years. Good job, well done ya weirdo.

So due to the abundance of sleep this week, I don’t really have any unusual, sleep deprived idiotic thoughts, my questions have been answered by Google and my thoughts haven’t run away with me. Im such a let down. So let’s talk about me being visited by dead people in my sleep instead, because, well why not. That’s what this is for, to organise my thoughts really. See what ya think anyway.

So this week, I had dreams about dead people. Not random dead people, coz , y’know,that’s just weird, I mean people I know.

 First up was a guy I used to work with. He died a little over a year ago and in my dream, I was at my work station, minding my own business, when he was being shown around by one of my supervisors, only it wasn’t him in my dream, it was his brother, who is  the spitting image of him. So even in my dream world, I knew this guy was dead, but I collapsed in the dream at the shock of seeing him, because dream me couldn’t believe it either. Why would ot be his bro n a dream, why not him? Any things possible in a dream, why send your brother who I’ve never even met? And I could swear in my dream/half consciousness I could hear his voice as he had a very distinct Caribbean accent and way of saying my name. So that was a little odd, then on Valentine’s morning, 3:15 am I wake in a cold sweat, no reason for it, was perfectly warm and feeling just fine, when boom, awake, cold and sweating. I didn’t think anything of it again and went back to sleep. It wasn’t until talking with my mother in the morning that I realised that it was the anniversary of my Nana’s death, at that exact time. My nana clearly wanted me to remember her, and obviously scare the shit out of me. What’s that about Nana? So clearly the dead are trying to tell me something, just not sure what yet…

See, so nothing interesting. Maybe I’ll have to end this blog before its even started if I’m now able to bloody sleep. Or maybe that’s it?! Now I’m writing my thoughts down, they’re not playing on my mind and keeping me awake. Damnit! Must try harder not to sleep and have insomnia induced madness to entertain you with.

Anyhoo, as I seem to be doing OK this week with it, I shall bid you a good night. 

Sleep Well


Rich people have no taste!

Well, some of them don’t anyway.

So I’m lay here once again while the wife snores away. We came to bed early tonight as well coz we were both so tired, yeah, that didn’t work. So naturally my mind goes into overdrive and I’m lay here looking at mansions that I will never be able to afford. Because obviously that’s normal. My minimum price is a Mil and it has to have a pool  I’m just not interested otherwise, I want value for my millions people and I like to swim. So I type in my preferences to Zoopla, as you do;

Area: this one +10 miles (keeping our options open)

Min price: £1,000000

Max price: nope

Min beds: 5 (I have one child, why do I need 5 beds?)

Max beds: nope

Keywords: POOL!

And off we go. 37 matches. Excellent, let’s have a nosey around ex footballers houses and see how the other half live.

Shit. They live shit. Again, some. Seriously, if you were selling your mansion, you’d spruce the place up around bit, get rid of your clutter, but nope, these people just don’t give a fuck. They want you to see their unhealthy obsession with Rose Pink everything or their vast array of China plates. There’s crap everywhere, in every room! Books piled high, crystal figurines and all sorts of floral decor going on. Don’t get me started on the ones that haven’t decorated since the 80’s too! Whats with the heavy drapes? Dont you know how much dust they collect? Why would you put your house through that ridicule? Knowing that peasants like me are daydreaming about having a million pound house like yours and then just ripping it apart. Now people say ‘but you can decorate and make it how you want’ listen buddy, for a million quid plus, I want a fucking Butler standing at the foot of my sweeping, Beauty and the Beast style staircase with a glass of Strawberry cider greeting me! (I’m well classy, me.) Period houses are different, I expect a certain antiquity to them, I want old Persian rugs and Wing Back Chesterfields, I don’t want it in a house built in 1982 with the flat screen TV and ugly light fittings. Pick a style people, modern, antique, farmhouse cozy, just do it right and your house won’t be on the market for 2 years plus.

As for the pool, well, they’re all pretty standard, as long as I can swim before the tiny terrorist wakes and my ruins my day, I’m happy.

Anyways, Sleep Well.



‘Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday nights alright!’

That has been going round my head ALL day. And now it’s just took me 10 minutes to copy and paste the word Saturday on my bloody phone. That was after I spent 5minutes counting how many Saturdays it should be in the song. Thanks Elton. Why do songs even stick in our heads anyway?

Anyhoo, Hello! Welcome to my blog! My wife was getting annoyed with me waking her up at ridiculous times with stupid questions, so what better way to clear my head than put it all on the Internet! Yay, great idea that is..

So what can you expect from this blog? Well, more of the above for a start, songs are often stuck in my head and now they will be in yours once you read this, I bet you sang that first paragraph didn’t you? And now you can’t stop. Welcome to my world. It gets weird sometimes and I’m often surprised myself.  I don’t seem to sleep much sometimes, and it’s not through lack of trying, because lord knows I’m tired, but sleep evades me, like a becconing mistress, only to be cruelly ripped away as I am in touching distance.

I mainly have unanswered questions that I just can’t be bothered to Google and the occasional rant that is often an argument in my own head, least now somebody might help me answer some of my burning thoughts. Or just sing along with me when I have a song in my head.

So if you don’t mind,I’ll tell you guys all about the things I’m thinking now and then.

Sleep well!


(Oh look, it’s midnight too! Won’t always be but ‘the witterings of an insomniac between the hours of 12 and 5’ doesn’t quite have the same ring to it. Night all! 💤)